Author: Lily Kalanoa

Story: Winter Storm

Genre: Fushigi Yuugi – romance / angst

Rating: T / PG13

Warnings: Yaoi. Angst. Uh, nothing else I can think of.

Pairings: Tasuki / Chichiri, eventually.

Spoilers: A few for the end of the series and several for Chichiri's past.

Author Notes: Ah, I'm so sad. Apparently there's not a very large FY following on ff. Oh well, thank you to everyone who did read and continues to read. Seiru, nice to meet you! And tasukigirl! You were reading 'An Heir' weren't you? I'm updating that again, if you haven't seen. Anyway, I'm so glad everyone seems to like this, though I'm a little sad for the low views (and reviews). On this story, I'm not begging for reviews as much, I mostly just want to finaly post this, it's been waiting for attention for far too long. I do like the way it turned out, I hope you all do too. Enough babbling, here's the next part for you to enjoy.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Tasuki reclined against the wall, watching his friend sleep. It hadn't taken long for the monk to fall back into slumber; a true sign that he was really hurt. Tasuki sighed again. If this were the old days, Mitsukake could heal him in minutes. But this wasn't the old days. Chichiri would have to heal the old fashioned way, his own healing spells not nearly as effective. And they'd been moving around so much, aggravating the wound, the monk would be lucky not to walk with a limp in the future.

His eyes were slipping closed and Tasuki shook himself to stay awake. With a groan of true protest from his aching joints, the fire seishi stood and began to explore the cave. He stayed near the entrance, not wanting to lose what little light filtered in through the storm outside. And not wanting to let Chichiri out of his sight.

Of course, he wanted to rest. He needed to sleep. The few hours he'd gotten earlier had been nothing. Nearing forty-eight hours of searching in snow, being awake even longer than that, his body could not be pushed any further. But he lived in harmony with his mortal vessel and it knew he needed to be awake. He had awoken once he crossed the line of unbearable exhaustion, but he had gotten no time to rebuild his energy stores and that boundary was quickly approaching again.

Tasuki reached the end of the light and gazed into the inky blackness in front of him. Curious, he picked up a small stone and hurled it into the nothingness. He pulled back in shock when the stone rebounded, hitting him squarely in the forehead. Even more curious now, Tasuki reached out his hand. A few inches forward and he encountered cold stone. Well, that answered how deep the cave was. Bored again, the bandit headed back to his companion.

Tasuki settled down again with a shiver. He had to admit, it was a whole lot colder without his coat, but at least he was dressed for this kind of weather. He was a bandit – a mountain bandit at that – and his wardrobe had been selected accordingly, from his thick lined boots to his warm pants and heavy coat. Not like the monk he traveled with, dressed only in light pants and shirt. Tasuki debated for a moment before indulging himself. He lifted his coat turned blanket, allowing some of the trapped warm air to billow out to greet him and gazing at the vision beneath it.

Chichiri had been out for quite a while, but Tasuki could see that he was improving considerably, the skin around the tessen especially starting to regain some color. Briefly Tasuki wondered if his face was that pale and reached for his mask.

He was barely able to stop himself, knowing what would happen if he removed that mask. He'd almost lost himself once already when he'd undressed the monk. They had been traveling together for so long, Tasuki had grown accustomed to the other man's presence and the thought of being apart from him was too much to bear. He'd been denying his feelings for a long time now, but seeing Chichiri fall away into darkness had forced Tasuki to own up to them. To the fact that if the monk died, there was no reason for him to go on living. If he gazed upon his unmasked visage again, he wasn't sure he could keep from kissing the older man. As it was, the only thing stopping him was the knowledge that the thin paper barrier was in his way.

His hand had strayed without his realizing it and now rested lightly against the monk's chin. His fingers even pinched the delicate paper, poised to remove it. He stopped cold, knowing what would happen if he did remove it, but unable to pull away.

"It's all right, Tasuki. I know a lot of people are uncomfortable seeing my scar."

The words startled the flame haired man and he pulled away, pressing his back against the cold stone wall. "It ain't that, Chiri. It's just . . . I . . . Er . . ." Tasuki frowned and lowered his eyes. "Sorry to wake ya, you need yer rest."

Chichiri struggled up into a sitting position. "It's okay. I'm awake now, I don't think I can get back to sleep. Don't you need your rest? I can keep watch."

Tasuki shook his head immediately. "Yer hurt, buddy. I'm fine, but you're actually really hurt." There was more than a little self blame in his voice and Tasuki heard Chichiri sigh. "But since you are up, I guess we should see to your leg, eh?"

Chichiri winced, as if the mere mention of the break made it hurt more. "You're right," the monk muttered and lay back down. "Do you have everything you need for this?"

Tasuki shook his head. "Got everything we need right here. I'm gonna use your staff for the splint, all right? It'll be awkward, but strong." The bandit repositioned, kneeling at the monk's feet. "Brace yourself, Chiri, this is really gonna hurt."

Chichiri nodded, gripping the jacket on top of him tightly. Tasuki grabbed his friend's foot and started counting. "On three. One. Two." Without proper warning, Tasuki pulled hard on the monk's foot. Chichiri screamed loudly as the limb was twisted, forcing the bone back in place. When Tasuki pulled away at last, Chichiri was panting heavily; he had not been ready for that. Tasuki was right there, talking constantly to the monk. "You okay, buddy? That was the hard part, we're almost done now."

Just at that moment, Chichiri was unable to reply, but he nodded dazedly. He was aware of Tasuki scurrying around him. Fetching his staff and pressing it against his side. Wrapping the whole length of his leg in . . . something. He looked down to see the bandit was using his own belt and several pieces of fabric that looked suspiciously like the ones he wrapped around his wrists and ankles. "Tasuki-"

"Almost done, hang in there."

Chichiri obeyed, shutting his mouth and laying his head back, focusing on anything other than the pain. Slowly his mind drifted to the past, naturally recalling the happiest memories he held. Unfortunately, those memories were of Kouran and the good quickly gave way to the bad. The pain, both physical and emotional, closed in on the monk and a pained sob threatened to escape him. "Kouran . . ." he whispered.

Tasuki looked up at the sound only to see his friend was crying. At least, he thought he was crying. It was hard to tell, but it was hard to mistake the whimpers that escaped him. The fire seishi immediately decided to ignore the spoken name, pretending he hadn't heard it. He tied the last knot securely and moved so he was nearer the other man's head. "Shit, man. I know it hurts, but we can get through this. You'll be better in no time, just wait and see."

"I . . . Tasuki, I . . ."

The bandit's hands were moving again without his permission and he gently gripped the frail paper mask on each side. He pulled it away slowly, drinking in the surprise on the other man's face. "It'll be okay, Chiri. I swear I'll get you trough this." Caution be damned! Tasuki rested his hand against the right side of Chichiri's face and bent slowly towards his lips. The monk's eyes widened – though whether from fear or anticipation, Tasuki wasn't sure. At the last moment, the bandit seemed to come back to himself a bit and the gentle kiss landed instead on a scarred cheek.

Tasuki stood, face burning, and went to the cave's opening. He stood there for some time in silence and when he finally turned back around, Chichiri was unconscious again. The bandit knelt again beside his companion, resting a hand on his forehead. He thought so; the monk was burning with fever. And the storm showed no sign of letting up. Tasuki sighed: they had to get to town . . .

-o-o-o-o-o-

Chichiri's sleep was restless. For a long time he hovered on the brink of wakefulness when the body seems to be asleep but the mind is active. He would slip into slumber, dreaming of Kouran and Houki, but he kept returning to that almost awake state. It was almost like he was moving – on a wagon or something. Twice, he was sure he would be sick, but somehow he avoided it. And it was warm, so blissfully warm. Heat radiated into his body from both sides, lulling him into a deeper sleep time and time again.

Chichiri hovered on wakefulness again. It felt as if he were surrounded by warmth and softness and he was tempted to give in to slumber once again. His stomach, however, and his bladder protested the surrender loudly. Fluttering his eyes open, Chichiri looked around automatically for Tasuki, expecting the same grey stone walls he had fallen asleep to. The monk sat bolt upright when he saw neither. Instead his eyes were greeted with paper walls and warm, fluffy beds. There was an older man kneeling beside one of the other beds, apparently tending to another sick person. He looked up at Chichiri and smiled. "You're finally awake."

Chichiri looked around wildly. Beside his bed were his things, his clothing folded neatly and his beads and mask resting within his hat. "Where am I?"

"Why, you've finally made it to town, young man." Chichiri stared at him, clear disbelief on his face. "Your friend left, only telling us that you'd been hurt trying to get here. You've slept nearly a day straight."

"I don't understand. How did I get here?"

"He carried you. Got to the city gates and yelled for us to let him in. Barely heard him over the storm. I was actually starting to worry he'd gone to the trouble for nothing, but you're awake now."

"Where did he go?" Chichiri couldn't imagine. That whole trip, carrying his dead weight? This couldn't be what happened. He'd find Tasuki and ask what happened himself.

Chichiri was starting to push himself up, but the old man's hand settled onto his shoulder and pushed him back down. "Where do you think you're going? I'm sorry, but your friend left earlier today, we barely got him to rest and eat before he was gone. But regardless, you aren't going anywhere until that leg of yours heals. My guess, you'll be in that bed at least a week and it'll have to stay splinted longer than that."

Chichiri settled uncomfortably back onto the futon. He didn't like the idea, but he had to admit even that small movement had hurt quite a bit. "When you say he left . . ?"

"He left the city entirely. Said to tell you that Mt. Leikaku was only a few days journey from here and that you'd know what that meant."

Chichiri felt the energy drain out of him. "He went home." He slipped his eye closed and, ignoring the protests of his stomach, meditated until he was slumbering peacefully once more.

-o-o-o-o-o-

A / N: Ah, good to see our seishi safe and sound, ne? Not together, but at least safe. Please review. I'll probably post the next chapter Friday, if I remember, so I'll see you then. (PS Reviews help me remember)