Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi and all its characters belong to MOI~~hahaha! (Watase and lawyers come running, threatening bloody murder) Okay...I take it back... (huaaaaa! Where'd that machete come from!?)(blends into the horizon) All right. On with the story...
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Chapter two: Mornings After Only Get Weirder and Weirder
If the sun was shining, there was no way she could tell. Screens she never noticed before were propped at the windows, completely blocking the sun's morning light. Her bed curtains were drawn, flooding the space with a cocoon-like darkness. Lolita thought whoever was behind it mighty thoughtful, for Tasuki's little therapy only left her with a massive headache like she had never known before. Somewhere in the hazy spaces of her room, a door opened and closed.
"Lolita-chan, na no da?"
She froze, heart stammering at the voice. Seconds later, Chichiri had drawn the bed curtains apart and she was staring up at him, foggy mind clearly registering the gentle expression. Uninvited, he sat on the edge of her bed, causing her to ignore the horrific protest of her head as she scrambled up.
"Aren't you hungover, no da?"
"I am."
"Then maybe you'd rather lie down, no da."
Ignoring him, she blurted out, "What are you doing here?" and then bit her tongue with a mental reprimand.
"We were wondering why you weren't at breakfast, so Tasuki told us about your trip to town yesterday," he replied calmly. "I came to see how you're feeling, no da."
"Just dandy, thanks." Swinging her legs over the bed, she moved to push herself up, but only succeeded in staggering in al directions as the world tilted around her. Reflexively, Chichiri reached out, catching her arm before she fell face-forward.
"You should stay in bed, no da."
Lolita complied, snuggling back under the covers, back to him. She hoped Chichiri would get the message and leave, but he continued to hover by her, sending little jolts of electricity down her spine every time his hand brushed her as he smoothed down the covers. Her head continued to pound, and the relentless hammering in her chest did nothing to alleviate the discomfort.
"Stop it," she finally said after forcing her eyes closed and having them involuntarily fly open.
"Stop what, no da?"
"T-" she was going to say "touching me," but her face flushed at the very words that she settled for, "Go away."
His frown could be sensed a mile away. "Are you angry at me, no da? Tasuki hinted that you would."
"He's wrong," she sighed, and it was one that carried regret a hundredfold. "But that doesn't make it less weird."
"What's weird, no da?"
Sighing again, she carefully rolled over to face him. A part of her said it was a very bad idea. "You don't pick things up quick, do you?" Chichiri looked at her blankly so she continued, "What's weird is how you're still so nice to me. You pretend nothing's changed."
"But nothing has changed, no da."
The griping throb came again when she rolled his words over in her head. "Things have changed, Chichiri. Ever since I told you..." she trailed off, glancing away and then stubbornly adding, "Things have changed."
He shrugged. "It's not reason enough to pretend I don't know you, no da, nor you, I. Still, you must listen to me...and do what I told you to."
Let us just be friends. Forget me. Forget him. Ha. "That's easier said than done. You of all people should know that emotions cannot be dictated like that."
For a moment he fell silent, and Lolita knew exactly what he was thinking about. "I know," Chichiri finally replied in a tone as soft as hers. "But you will be able to get past it because over time the heart forgets."
The heart forgets and disappointment numbs itself. Is that it? Well she wasn't buying because for years her heart remained steadfast. It would only scream Chichiri, and had refused to learn any other name. If only he knew... If only he was willing to listen... But he was a monk. And he said he couldn't love. Ever.
"I hope you're right." She really did, because it hurt so much.
Bending down, his lips grazed her forehead very lightly that she thought she imagined it. "I hope so, too." Then he stood up and left her poor heart to race after itself, beating so fast the blood rushed in her ears and it hurt her to breathe. If she had to learn to forget, to erase the automatic hyper-mode her body flew into at the thought of him, she would break down before she was even half way there.
***
Towards mid-afternoon, Tasuki decided to pop in and see how his counselling patient was faring.
"I don't want to see you," was the immediate rejection, sharp from within the shaded bed.
"What?" Just a little annoyed.
"A really nice person just came by with medicine, so I'm fine, thank you. But no, I will not be dragged back to town for another sake-swigging afternoon."
Long sentence. A grin spread across his face. She was better. He marched right up to the bed and pawed the curtains apart. Instantly, Lolita threw her arms up over her eyes, squinting at the sudden glare of the afternoon sun. "What happened to the screens?!"
He laughed. "What're you? Some kinda vampire? `Fraid of a lil' sun?"
"Who told you about vampires?" she demanded, forgetting to retort that that logic would make him a hydrophobic bloodsucker.
"Duh." Rolled eyes. "Ever heard of Miaka? She was the Priestess of Suzaku by the way, an' came from 'nother world where vampires're celebrated creatures o' th' night. And oh, wait. `A think `A missed tellin' ya 'bout Konan's bloodthirsty corpses."
"Whatever." She wasn't going to have this stupid argument the minute the world was coming right back into focus after its alcohol-laced convolution. Flopping back down onto the mattress, she drew the covers up over her head. "Leave me in my blessed darkness."
"Ooh, Shakespeare now, huh?"
"It's not Shakespeare!" came the muffled objection from underneath the blankets. There was a long pause as Lolita let it sink in. Then she threw the bedspread away and stared at him curiously. "Who told you about Shakespeare?"
"Ya did."
"I did?"
"Sure. About Einstein, too."
"I did?"
His grin widened at the flabbergasted look on her face and, before she could protest, he hauled her up and dumped clean clothes on her outstretched arms. "Get changed and I'll bring ya somewhere. Ya look terrible with your hair sticking up all over th' place."
Self-consciously, Lolita ran a hand through her locks. "Where are we going now?"
"Not far."
She glared at the smug reflection in the mirror. "Tasuki, I adamantly refuse to follow you anywhere without you first informing me where you want to go and hereafter swearing – no, promising – that we will go exactly where you said we will go and nowhere else."
"Ya're no fun," he complained, tousling her hair.
"Then I'm turning in for the afternoon." Dumping the clothes back onto a nearby chair, Lolita moved to return to bed, but the bandit held her arm firmly.
"What?" He said nothing. They stared at each other for a long minute. The staring turned into glaring. The glaring turned into a sizing-each-other-up contest. The contest lasted a full five minutes.
"Fine!" Dropping her arm, Tasuki stomped to the door. "We're goin' no further than the Imperial gardens if that makes ya feel any better. Now go get intuh' yer clothes!" He halted, flushing as he realized what he said and quickly amending, "Intuh' the right clothes!" before stalking out, slamming the door behind himself.
He waited for her in the hallway just outside, leaning against the sun-warmed wall. Arms folded, Tasuki closed his eyes and let his head drop to his chest. For all he knew, the silly thing was still in over her head about Chichiri. He had seen the monk emerge from her room that morning with a serious set in his usually jovial face, one that showed plainly even through the mask. Instinct had prompted him to march right up and demand what he was still doing in Lolita's room, but a part of him held back, thinking that if Chichiri didn't choose to share that bit of information with him, he would have to live without knowing. That or finding out from Lolita herself.
Lolita. She was another thing to consider long after the three-month romp in Konan yielded no answers as to her purpose for appearing. He had often tried to pry it out of her, sneakily injecting questions about her origin into the most mundane conversations. Fat lot of good that did. The answer was always the same: she wished in a well, offered a sacrificial bit of metal, and found herself messing up his life. When that didn't work, he attempted to ask what exactly she wished for. Then the girl would smirk her irritatingly 'I-know-something-you-don't-know' smirk, lean forward, and whisper, "Secret."
He was pretty sure she had a lot of secrets. Hell, everybody had a secret or two. Okay, maybe more than a couple, but the girl obviously had a whole store of them. Her life before Konan was a secret, though bits of insignificant details would leak out once in a while. Her hobbies were a secret.
Previously, Tasuki snorted to add.
She kept many funny things in that backpack of hers – things that blared music loud enough to knock your brains once plugged into your ears, a stick thing that wrote without the need for an inkpot, a square thing that rubbed pencil marks off, a funny pencil thing with lead so thin it was a wonder it didn't break, thick books printed with foreign letters that looked uncannily like a spell book, and many others. But the thing she most treasured – something hidden from anyone's sight for the longest time – was a thin book more than a foot wide and several inches long.
After her arrival, Tasuki was the hardest to convince that Lolita was just a regular girl, and took to spying near her bedroom to soothe his suspicions. Then late one night he happened to walk by her window. The light was on, and the girl was hunched over with the book on her drawn knees, her back leaning against the opposite side of her bed from the window. The mysterious book was open, and she was writing something in it.
Convinced that she was a sorceress of some sort out to render Chichiri's magic impotent so she could take over the kingdom and then the world, Tasuki broke through the window, diving straight towards the bed. Sadly, he miscalculated, and shot forward over his mark, crashing right into Lolita, throwing them both to the floor. The book skittered across the polished wood, lying open a few feet beyond their tangled mess of limbs, its contents finally displayed before admiring eyes.
He saw a sketch of the plants growing in contained profusion as seen through her bedroom window. It was rendered in morning light and had yet to be finished, but the striking clarity of line was there, along with tiny notes that dotted the margins of the page. Picking herself up, Lolita gathered the loose pages scattered across the floor, stuffing them back into the sketchpad with a glare thrown his way now and then. At that moment, Tasuki was pretty sure she was vowing never to speak to him ever again. It would have suited him fine, except that he knew the fault was completely his. So as soon as he had recovered his senses, he apologized, throwing in a stammering praise that at first met with a narrowed stare. The girl had a problem with self-confidence – something slightly alleviated only after he had reinforced the first compliment.
It took a few days, but at last she relented and allowed him to scan the pages. Eventually, she even tolerated him peering over her shoulder while she worked. Then one night he asked her about it and she told him it was the one thing she most treasured – that ability to create. He told her he liked it, then and there feeling a glow of pride as he realized that she had just let him in on one of her secrets.
"Yo."
"Took ya long 'nough," he mumbled, still half-lost in thought as Lolita emerged from her room. Pushing away from the wall, Tasuki rubbed the drowsiness from his face and turned to lead the way down the corridors into the exit towards the gardens. Halfway there, he paused, turning very slowly to look her up and down. Immediately, his gaze stopped at her head.
"`Sup with yer hair?" he complained, marching back into the room to retrieve a comb.
"Ever head of 'bed head'?" Crying out, she swatted at his hand as he attacked the knots hanging mussed down her back.
Sure he did. It looked like... Forget what it looked like. He wouldn't be able to concentrate on helping her move on if she trotted along beside him looking like that. Now that he thought about it, the dishevelled hairstyle actually suited her well. Very...what was the term...? Sexy.
At once, Tasuki slapped the word from his mind, returning to the messy locks with renewed fierceness.
"Ow! Let go!" she screamed, wriggling free of his grasp just as Nuriko came floating by. They stood across each other, Lolita on the verge of whimpering, and Tasuki red-faced with effort, the comb brandished at his side.
"Tasu-chan, be nice to the young lady," the purple-haired ghost tittered, gracefully settling between them. "And what, may I ask, were you both doing, hm?" The mischievous glint in his eyes was far too obvious to go unnoticed.
"He started it!" Sticking out her tongue, Lolita swept past him down the hall, straightening out the abused locks.
Nuriko's attention settled back onto the fiery-haired bandit. "Tasu-chan?"
"I was tryin' to teach 'er good groomin'!" At which, the former let loose a ringing laugh. "What's yer problem?" the younger man demanded.
"Oh, nothing," Nuriko sweetly replied, flying back to the farther recesses of the ceiling. "I just wondered what possessed you to suddenly lecture on that. Toodles!"
Growling vengeance, Tasuki strode off in the direction Lolita took. He found her near Chichiri' favourite spot by the pond, still tugging at her hair. Pretty soon, the monk strolled by, pausing to offer a smiling greeting before sitting down right beside her. They were talking, and Tasuki edged closer to hear better.
"Tasuki's abnormal," he heard her say, as she angrily ripped the knots apart. After her weeklong drama fest, the bandit had expected Lolita to ignore Chichiri, or maybe even leave when he approached. But nooo. She just sat there complaining away, pausing to blush when Chichiri offered to help.
Decline, decline. Tasuki was so sure she wouldn't allow the blue-haired monk to touch her. But then, just as he was composing a cheer, she nodded, and the said monk's fingers found themselves buried in a confusing mass of long, female hair. If face alone could be the basis for judgment, Tasuki would say that Lolita was about blowing up with giddiness inside. Yet she knew that Chichiri's actions were but platonic.
He had to shake his head. The girl was either clueless, plain stupid, or masochistic, rubbing salt into a fresh wound like that. Seemed like he would have to be the hero again, rescuing the damn damsel from her self-inflicted distress.
"Oi, Chiri!"
The monk looked up as Tasuki crunched down the gravel path waving the tortoiseshell comb. "You might need this." Ignoring the acid glare Lolita bore into his face, he deposited the thing into Chichiri's waiting hand.
"Thank you Tasuki, no da."
"You're being awfully helpful," Lolita sardonically agreed, adding extra emphasis on the word 'awfully'. Deciding that rolled eyes was answer enough, Tasuki plopped down across the pair.
"Tell me again why you're still here." The words were muttered so softly no one should have heard. Except of course, she had to. Casting a wry look at him Lolita replied,
"I guess that's because I still haven't found the magic wishing well that would whisk me back home."
Chichiri sighed at their bickering. Tasuki's fondness for the girl was plain as day, but the bandit would insist on exasperating her. "Lolita-chan, I don't think Tasuki really means it, no da. He just likes annoying you, no da."
"He's sure making progress," she grumbled. Chichiri was doing his job well; the comb slid through her hair almost without difficulty now, and the rhythm of the teeth gliding up and down her scalp was perfectly soothing. After Tasuki fell silent, Lolita found time to feel pleased about the fact that her beloved Chichiri was handling her hair. Was. He had stopped.
"Chichiri?"
Her companions shot each other nervous looks, now and then scanning the surrounding foliage. However, before she could ask what the matter was, a bright glow expanded from the sky, for a second brightening the surroundings with brilliance stronger than the light of day. A scream trailed in the air for the length of time that they had to shield their eyes, growing louder and louder as it plummeted closer towards land before being silenced by a painful splash into the icy depths of the pond.
"That was a human scream!" Frantically wresting his garments off, Chichiri plunged into the pool, slicing through water in a desperate search of the source of the sound. Several metres away, he saw a female figure drifting aimlessly, suspended between the surface and the murky, rocky bottom. He swam towards her, panic slowly replaced with relief when he saw one of her arms lift towards the surface. The newcomer swam upwards, weakly paddling until Chichiri grasped her around the waist and hefted them both to safety. On shore, Tasuki and Lolita were waiting to take his bundle.
The girl let herself be pulled to land, sucking in huge lungfuls of air as she crawled further into the bank, and then flopping onto her back. Dripping wet, Chichiri carefully approached her.
"Are you okay, no da?"
She nodded, wheezing a barely comprehensible reply between gasps. Then, pushing soggy bangs from her face, she gingerly sat up to look at each other them in turn. Growing wider and wider with disbelief, her eyes finally settled upon her saviour.
"Oh, my god! Chichiri!" In a flash, she was up and clinging to his neck, throwing him backwards onto the grass as he unsuccessfully teetered to keep his balance. "I can't believe it's really you!"
Tasuki snuck a look at Lolita. He expected her to be livid with jealousy, or maybe snapping with unsuppressed rage. Anything but that lost look she wore as she sat there on the grass, wet sleeves clinging to her arms, dress fanned out very becomingly, but with no one to see. His heart went out to her whose object of love was currently sprawled underneath a stranger he had just saved.
Just then, for the first time in his life, Tasuki was angry at the injustice of it all.
A/N: Is anyone still reading? :::crickets::: Oh, my. Anyway, a big thank you to whoever found his/her way down here after actually reading. If it' not too much trouble, please leave a review. They keep me inspired. :)