Something was crawling across her hand.
Miaka groaned and gingerly turned her head, hoping that it was another one of the dreams she had been having over the last two months from which she always woke up shaking and disoriented. Broken snippets of conversations, flashes of images in bright colours which might have been memories, and always…always that vision of an unknown man…
Unfortunately, she had no such luck. She screwed her eyes shut, counted to ten, then opened them again.
A pair of beady eyes on stalks stared back at her.
To add to the insult, the small white and orange speckled crab waved its tiny claws menacingly under her nose. Kami-sama, I don't believe this! With a snarl, she shook the creature off and watched it scuttle sideways to the safety of a nearby rock. There was sand everywhere, sticking to her skin, her hair. To her left, a sheer cliff-face rose towards the sky. To her right, a shimmering turquoise ocean stretched out as far as she could see.
The most incredible thing was the sand under her fingers was a dark pearly grey, almost black. Soft and fine to the touch, it was warm from the sun which was already sinking below the horizon. Miaka drew in a deep lungful of the fresh sea air and scanned the area. The Book of the Four Gods had transported her to a beach; although it was arguably one of the most beautiful she had ever seen.
The Book!
Miaka leapt to her feet, her eyes frantically searching for her satchel. Spotting it half buried in the sand a few paces away, she staggered over to it, just in time to save it from the waves which were beginning to lap at the edges.
Her textbooks and notes were dry, but the Shijintenchisho has nowhere in sight.
"Looking for this?"
She whirled around to face the unexpected voice, and almost moaned with despair, for a fate worse than death stood behind her, the Book dangling from one hand. There was no outward emotion on his face, but even at a distance, she somehow knew that he was furious. Possibly angry enough to kill me…Slowly and very painfully! Miaka hugged her bag to her chest protectively and lifted her chin defiantly, determined to go down fighting if she had to. "Give it back!" she demanded without preamble, standing her ground as he approached. His sleek movements brought to mind a documentary she'd seen on television recently, of a leopard stalking its prey...
A leopard never changes its spots. The old adage popped into her mind unbidden.
Flinty silver-blue eyes raked over her, "Would you care to tell me, Suzaku no Miko," the former shogun came to a halt barely an arm's length away, "Why this was in your bag? I doubt it has been included in the list of prescribed high school texts," he drawled with enough sarcasm to sink the Titanic.
Miaka made to snatch the Book from him, and to her astonishment, he let her take it. "I don't know!" she snapped, baring her teeth at him for good measure, "It was probably on the desk in the study. I must have accidentally packed it along with the rest of my books last night!" The Shijintenchisho had fallen from her bag when she had pulled out her keys, transporting both herself and the person in her immediate vicinity here. But exactly where was Here? And why did the person in question have to be Nakago? She opened the Book to the last printed page, but it yielded no clues.
Daylight was fading quickly. Her arch-nemesis smoothly turned on his heel and started off towards the cliff with long-legged strides.
"Hey! Wait! Where are you going?" she shouted after him. The insufferable man did not stop to answer. In fact, he gave every indication that he was about to happily abandon her on an unfamiliar, deserted beach. Mentally cursing at the Powers That Be which had so cruelly put her in such a situation and at the unpredictable leader of the Seiryuu seishi whom she was now forced to endure for Suzaku-knew-how-long, she hefted the satchel over one slim shoulder and scrambled after the tall figure of her former enemy.
Her shoes sank into the loose sand, and she was panting with the exertion by the time she reached the base of the cliff. Surprisingly, he stood waiting for her, as if he had known all along that she would follow like an obedient puppy. Miaka stared silently up at the broad but steep flight of stairs which had been carved out of solid rock. She was hungry, tired and her temples were starting to throb once again with the onset of a pressure headache. There were exams to sit for! She did not have time to hang around a beach with someone who made Machiavelli look like a kind-hearted soul! Subsequently, it took all her willpower not to just flop down on the bottom step and cry like a baby.
She did not bother to even glare at him when he spoke, his words soft and somewhat mocking, "Ladies first."
The muscles in her back protested when she shifted the heavy load of her book bag, trying to ease the soreness where the leather strap was beginning to cut into her shoulder. She clamped her teeth together and started the weary climb to the top. There weren't that many steps actually, but she was exhausted from her long day at school, not to mention the strain of dealing with the main star of her nightmares. Nerves strung tight with anxiety which she refused to let him see, Miaka kept her head held high, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.
She was roughly halfway up the cliff, her legs starting to tremble with fatigue, when the weight of her bag was taken off her. Being so abruptly relieved of the burden caused her to sway precariously and almost lose her balance. Swinging around, Miaka was just in time to see her blonde adversary sling the carrying strap over his shoulder. He met her startled eyes for a second before wordlessly brushing past her and continuing the climb upwards with enviable ease.
And the worse thing was, he did it without even the slightest hint that he was flaunting his superiority over her.
Miaka felt her nails scoring tiny red crescents on her palms and had to make a conscious effort to unclench her fists. With a angry glare aimed at the back of his head, she followed behind more slowly, stubbornly refusing to feel grateful for his—almost gentlemanly—gesture. Past experience had taught her that he was self-centred and ruthless, with a notable lack of anything that might pass for a conscience…
…Or so she had believed. The problem was that many things did not seem to add up. The cold Seiryuu general she remembered fighting against had displayed nothing but contempt for her and her seishi. This man, while not the most personable of companions, appeared to be slightly more…human. Between giving her a ride home and carrying her books for her, Nakago had yet to do anything she could fault him for. Damn him! she seethed inwardly, disgusted at her own weakness as well as how her arch-enemy was making it difficult to hate him.
Her anger propelled her up the last few steps, only to have her stop dead on her tracks as she beheld the large house in front of her. It certainly did not look like any building she had seen previously in the Shijintenchisho. For one, it was unmistakably modern in design with a lot of glass and steel.
"Oh crap…I don't think we're in Tokyo anymore…" she muttered, staring at the structure as if it might somehow get up and bite her.
"It would appear not," he agreed dryly with a hard amusement which failed to reach his eyes as he unlocked the door and walked inside. A moment later, she heard the thud of her overstuffed bag unceremoniously hitting the floor.
The sound snapped her back to the reality of their situation, "Stop manhandling my things! And we can't just walk into someone's house like that!" Gingerly stepping over the threshold, she looked around the beautifully decorated interior, with its gleaming hardwood floors and tasteful furniture...just in time to see him toss a set of keys onto a nearby glass table. "Where did you get those?"
Nakago shrugged, the infuriating gesture seeming to mean everything and nothing at the same time. "They were in my pocket," he said matter-of-factly as he moved to examine the magnificent view of the shoreline afforded by a large window, leaving her to draw her own conclusions. It looked like whoever or whatever that had transported them here had intended for them to stay in the house. As far as accommodations went, this one was positively luxurious by any standard…Miaka was not entirely sure whether that was a good thing.
Sighing, she picked up her bag and cautiously made her way towards an open doorway which led to a bedroom. It was with much relief that she noted that there was another bedroom just down the short hallway. If not… her stomach twisted itself into a knot at the thought of having Nakago as a room-mate. Ewww! Not quite enough to be classified as outright nausea, but disturbing enough to make her want to lock the door and barricade it…
…Which she almost did, only this time, from the outside.
For floating inches above the large bed, was the hideous form of the being who presided over the Universe of the Four Gods.
"Tai—Taiitsukun!" she squeaked, resisting the urge to back away from the ugliest face she had ever had the misfortune to encounter.
A gnarled hand was waved dismissively in Miaka's direction, heavy-lidded bulging eyes taking in the dishevelled appearance of Suzaku's current priestess. "What took you so long? Had some fun on the beach with that blonde Seiryuu boy, eh?" the old witch waggled her almost non-existent eyebrows suggestively, seeming to delight in the fact that the Suzaku no Miko was now becoming distinctly green around the gills.
The comment served to rouse her, and the russet-haired girl choked on her indignation, "No way!" she spat out with alacrity. Struggling to hold on to what was left of her self-control, she growled at the deity, "Where exactly is this place and why are we here? Wait! Let me guess, this the part where you say 'Suzaku no Miko, your mission, which you have no choice but to accept is…'. Is this house going to self-destruct in five seconds?"
Taiitsukun seemed amused by her derisive response and floated towards Miaka, "The Fates have decided that you needed a vacation."
Miaka gaped speechlessly at the unexpected announcement. It took her a few tries before she managed to find her voice. "Vacation? I don't need a vacation! What I want," she bit out, dropping her satchel lest she was tempted to swing it at the divine being's face, "Is for you to send me back! Now! My exams are coming!" A silent battle of wills ensued, until her eyes started to hurt and she was compelled to blink.
"It is out of my hands. I may oversee the Universe of the Four Gods, but the Fates preside over the past, present and future. They are not to be trifled with." Taiitsukun's face ceased with distaste at being forced to admit that she was out-ranked. "You will be sent back when the conditions of destiny have been satisfied."
"And exactly how long would that take?" Nakago's voice came from just outside the bedroom door, where he had obviously been listening in on the conversation.
The old crone shifted her gaze to the blonde man, eyeing him lecherously, "That would depend on you, wouldn't it?" Wrinkled lips parted in a gap-toothed grin as the witch sent a very significant glance towards the girl, then to the bed. "As I said, the conditions of destiny have to be satisfied."
All at once, the true meaning of the words hit Miaka with the force of a careening ten-ton truck, "WHAT? No, no, NO!" the phoenix priestess shrieked for emphasis. "I'm not going to do THAT with HIM! Never!" Hot pink coloured her cheeks as the next words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them, "Taiitsukun no Hentai! Why do you keep telling me to have sex with him anyway? He'll probably kill me in my sleep at the first opportunity!" she raged, whipping round to send her arch-enemy a look of utter revulsion.
"Don't," he told her in a low, deadly calm voice, "Tempt me."
A loud clearing of the throat which sounded like someone trying to start a rusty chainsaw, forcibly drew the attention of the two feuding adversaries. The old hag smiled unpleasantly, "I had nothing to do with that incident in Hokkan. That was Tomo's illusion. It wasn't my fault that you were gullible enough to fall for it!" Impatience showed on her wizened features as she shook a warning finger at the steaming miko, "Now, children, play nice. The sooner you two get to it, the sooner you will be back in your own world. Don't worry about missing your exams either, Suzaku no Miko. Both of you will be returned to the exact moment you were taken. Oh, and by the way, this house is equipped with everything you might need, including…" The grating sound of Taiitsukun's cackles lingered as she faded out of sight.
The frazzled priestess let out a shrill war-cry, and lunged forward with the unconcealed intention of throttling the odious deity…Only to end up sprawled across the bed in the most undignified manner. Nicholas tried not the notice the way Miaka's skirt had ridden up, revealing a most indecent glimpse of her thighs. She levered herself up, muttering a few choice profanities directed at the most powerful being in the Universe of the Four Gods. Her odangos were coming loose; the scarlet ribbons holding them in place had unravelled, leaving her flushed face softly framed with wisps of russet hair. Combined with the fact that she was currently lying on a rather large bed… Did the fiery little miko know how alluring and innocently sexy she looked, with her hair in disarray and her slender legs on display? He felt the sharp burn of desire in his lower body and forced himself to walk away from the scene.
The truth was, it would not be any hardship for him to make love to her now and bring a swift end to their exile (which was what the old hag seemed to be hinting at). Unfortunately, it was very unlikely that Miaka would consent to that, when she did not remember what they had together. He knew that her virginity was precious to her, and that she would not give it up lightly to any man, least of all someone she appeared to dislike quite thoroughly. He had no right to take it from her, and he refused to do so unless she was completely willing.
In other words, they were going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future.
My life officially sucks! If I had known that this was going to happen, I would have not bothered getting out of bed today! She pounded her fists against the mattress in frustration and fought the urge to scream very loudly. How could fate do this to her? Why of all people? The questions circled around endlessly in her mind.
It did not take her long to realise that taking her anger out on the pillows solved none of her problems. She glanced at the still-open doorway, belatedly remembering that she was not alone in this house. However, there was no sign of blonde hair anywhere in sight. She snorted; the fearsome shogun had probably backed off in horror at the prospect of having to sleep with her. Not that she would allow him to come anywhere near her or her virtue…and she would make doubly sure that her door was locked at night, Miaka vowed grimly as she got to her feet.
A quick circuit of the room revealed an attached en suite with a large tub and a shower. She breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she would not have to share bathroom facilities with Nakago. Taiitsukun had not been lying when she said that the house came equipped with everything they might need… her favourite brand of bath gel and shampoo stood on a white marble ledge next to a toothbrush and toothpaste. One cabinet held all the necessities a girl would need, including feminine hygiene products and a bottle of aspirin, while another contained fluffy white towels.
Liberating one of the towels to use, she carefully secured the bathroom door and proceeded to have a very long, very hot shower.
After successfully scalding away her headache, she slowly padded back into the bedroom on bare feet and cautiously opened the wardrobe, only to discover that it was filled with clothes that were definitely not hers but were—unsurprisingly—all in her size. Everything looked expensive and brand new. Even right down to the beautiful silk-and-lace underwear which she had always admired in up-market stores, but could never afford to buy.
Whoever was behind this crazy idea to get herself and Nakago together had certainly pulled out all the stops. Miaka gritted her teeth, fighting down the rising panic as the delicate, filmy scraps of cloth took on a far more barbaric significance. The intention behind them was painfully clear. Sucking in a harsh breath, she quickly selected what she needed along with a pair of beige Capri pants and a pale orange shirt with a pretty ethnic Indian design around the neckline. Once she had put on the clothes, she resumed her exploration of the room. Glass doors framed by gauzy white curtains opened out into a small balcony with a postcard perfect view of the sea. There was a vanity table with a large mirror against one wall, which she noted—with somewhat fatalistic resignation—held a familiar bottle of her strawberry scented body spray and lotion, among other things. Close by, a matching cabinet stood next to the bed. She soon realised that curiosity killed the cat when she idly opened the top drawer…
Nestled discreetly inside were at least a dozen little silver foil-wrapped packages…Obviously placed within convenient reaching distance from the bed. Her face flamed as she hastily slammed the drawer shut, finally registering the innuendo in Taiitsukun's parting remark. She suddenly felt like crawling under the bed and never emerging. Or better still, she wondered where she might borrow a very sharp sword so that she could hunt the overseer down and run the old hag through with it.
She groaned and buried her face in her hands. What am I going to do? The thought was swiftly followed by a loud growl from her stomach. Wincing in mortification at the bad timing, she fought back her apprehension and decided to brave the unknown…and Nakago.
Cool and business-like, she reminded herself when she marched across the living room towards the kitchen. Something smelled delicious, and she was hungry enough to eat a moose! Squaring her shoulders, she rounded the corner…and came face-to-face with the sight of Nakago with his shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows, stirring something in a saucepan. Seeing him so domesticated caused a funny sensation in her tummy. Or was that her heart? She shook her head to clear it of the strange thought.
His voice cut across her inner musings, pulling her back to the present. "Make yourself useful, Miko and set the table," he said abruptly, not turning to look at her.
"Nani? Don't order me around!" Miaka crossed her arms stubbornly, only to realise that the gesture was lost on him, since he was facing away from her. Unless, of course, he had eyes on the back of his head. The aroma of tomatoes, basil and garlic wrapped around her, causing her mouth to water. She wanted to ignore it, but her stomach let out another loud rumble. It did not take long before she conceded defeat and reluctantly stepped into the spacious kitchen-area to hunt for plates and cutlery.
Biting her lip, she nervously skirted around Nakago to get to the water glasses. On the way, she could not resist peeking into the industrial-sized refrigerator and discovered to her surprise, that it was fully stocked with an impressive array of food items. She removed an apple from the vegetable drawer and almost dropped it when another appeared to replace the one she had taken out.
"It magically restocks itself. Taiitsukun's doing, no doubt," the former Seiryuu seishi supplied dryly at her stifled exclamation of surprise.
Which meant that they were in no danger of starving. It also seemed to imply that they would be stuck here for a while, until they—…her mind shied away from the idea. Miaka twisted around to find her nemesis regarding her with an unfathomable expression on his chiselled features. They held each other's gaze for one timeless moment until the blonde man turned his back on her in order to deftly scoop pasta out of a pot of boiling water.
Before she knew it, a plate of heavenly-smelling spaghetti smothered in a rich homemade tomato sauce was being held out to her by her former enemy. Despite the insistent demands of her stomach, she eyed the contents warily.
She opened her mouth to ask whether any of the ingredients contained rat-poison.
Nakago skewered her with an impassive stare, silencing the words before they made it past her lips. "Whether you eat it or not is up to you, Miko," he stated very evenly as he picked an identical plate off the kitchen counter and walked out to the dining table without a backward glance.
She looked down at the plate in her hands and sighed. Could she trust him? She recalled, with perfect clarity, what he had said that day in the hospital after she'd tried to attack him. I am not here to kill you, Suzaku no Miko. If only it were that simple…The recollection brought a frown to her face, as she wondered what he had meant by that. And then, there were also the resounding testimonies from Yui and Keisuke about how much Nakago had changed. Was there something preventing him from harming her? Perhaps a spell or curse? Maybe with both Seiryuu and Suzaku already summoned, the time for fighting each other was truly past, and there was no longer any need for them to be enemies. Her mind conjured up several likely scenarios, however, none of them brought her any closer to finding out the real reason.
In the end, hunger won out. The blonde man at the table did not say anything when she seated herself at the opposite end. However, she did not miss the distinct mocking gleam in his blue eyes, which prompted her to dig her fork almost viciously into her dinner, imagining that he was the one she was stabbing with the utensil.
It was of little consolation to her when she put the food into her mouth, discovering that the spaghetti was actually very good and the sauce had definitely not come out of a jar…
As each day unfolded into the next, she found the silence driving her to near insanity. A social creature by nature, Miaka could never stand being cut off from people. She had been trapped in this place for what seemed to be interminable length of time, and had spent most of it wandering around the house or down at the beach exploring the shoreline. Nakago did not seem to mind the isolation, but she would not know, since she had yet to exchange more than a handful of words with him…something in her instinctively prompted her to steer clear of him whenever possible. Any conversation comprised of meal-time verbal warfare with the arrogant blonde man whom she was currently sharing accommodations with. He did not seem inclined to talk to her unless it was to bait her, and if she didn't know better, she would have sworn that he was avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him!
She hardly saw him around, leading her to wonder what he did with himself the rest of the time. One of the rooms in the house had been converted into an impressive library stocked with books covering a wide variety of topics, so she assumed he spent most nights in there, reading. She chewed thoughtfully on the end of her pencil, staring down at her exam revision notes but not seeing the mathematical equation in front of her. Instead, she contemplated the far more complex puzzle of her former enemy. It was late, and all was quiet except for the sound of the surf far below. With a sigh, she shut her book and lay back against the pillows, her thoughts chasing each other in circles.
It seemed that she had only just drifted off to sleep when she was awakened by the soft sound of the front door being opened and closed.
A glance at her watch revealed the time to be six-thirty in the morning. She groaned, Trust Nakago to be up and about at the crack of dawn. As tempting as it was to roll over and go back to sleep, Miaka suddenly remembered the decision she had reached the night before. She was going to follow the blonde Seiryuu seishi today to find out what he got up to when he wasn't playing the role of a cordon bleu chef! Grumbling under her breath, she hauled herself out of bed, and staggered to her bedroom balcony. It was still quite dark outside, but she could just make out the tall silhouette of her house-mate heading down the stairs to the beach. As she watched in confusion, Nakago stood motionless atop a large flat rock and seemed stare across the sea to where the sky was just beginning to turn pink. After a few minutes, the figure smoothly folded itself down into a cross-legged sitting position.
Meditating? Miaka could scarcely believe her eyes. She had not pegged him as the type to find peace in such a way. She retreated back inside, in case he happened to look up and spot her.
Three-quarters of an hour later, freshly showered, dressed and somewhat more awake, she looked out at the rock…only to discover that her arch-enemy had disappeared. Spurred by curiosity and other emotions she could not identify, she made her way down to the beach to investigate.
Keeping his eyes open, he allowed himself to sink beneath the surface.
Underwater, everything appeared different. The sounds were muted, the colours painted in shades of green and blue. He savoured the feeling of weightlessness, the almost-sensual rippling caress of the water currents against his skin. He allowed himself to drift along until his lungs were burning with the need to breathe and wondered if she would miss him if he were to die now.
Except, it would be such an ignominious death, after all that they had been through. Suicide was for the weak, an easy way out…Nicholas did not consider himself a coward.
Surfacing with a heaving gasp, Nicholas inhaled deeply as he treaded water. The salty air tasted sweet on his tongue. Nothing like a reminder of one's mortality to put everything in perspective. Blinking the stinging seawater out of his eyes and running his fingers through his wet hair to push it back off his forehead, he let out a soundless sigh. This forced exile with the girl who not only no longer loved him, but who was also deeply suspicious of him was slowly wearing on both of them. It hurt badly, to be so near her and not be able to touch her, to know that she did not trust him any further than she could throw him…
…Which wasn't very far, given her tiny stature and the fact that he was easily twice her size.
Swimming back to the shore at the same punishing pace that he had set when he had started out, he could feel his muscles straining with the effort. Just as he felt himself tiring and slowing down, he saw that the strip of secluded beach was closer than he had realised and that the water had became shallow enough for his feet to touch the sandy bottom. He stood up in the chest-deep water and silently regarded the lone figure sitting on the rock beside his discarded clothes. She must have come down to the beach sometime during his long swim.
"I thought you were trying to drown yourself…I didn't want to miss it," she said lightly, sounding as if she would have happily have helped bring about his supposed demise if given an opportunity.
At least she had not bothered to tell him a lie about wanting to watch the sunrise. The one positive thing which had come out of this whole farce was that being in close proximity with him put the Suzaku no Miko under so much stress that she no longer seemed to have the energy to hide what she was thinking and simply said whatever came into her mind.
His lips twisted mockingly, "Sorry to disappoint." Lifting a hand to wipe excess water off his face, he made no move to approach her or his clothes as yet. "I suggest you turn around, Miko…" he tilted his head and paused meaningfully, a suggestive smirk lurking at the corners of his mouth, "Unless, of course, you wish to see me in the nude?"
He watched as she turned a brilliant crimson, reminding him that she was even more innocent now, since she did not remember the little intimacies they had once shared. How he had missed watching her blush for him. Wondering just how far he could push her, he slowly started forward until the water level receded to his waist. Still, his stubborn little miko kept eye contact with him, her misguided sense of bravery apparently did not allow her to back down. A game of 'Chicken', he thought with amusement, one which she was most definitely going to lose since he was not about to stand around in the sea all day.
Shrugging slightly for her benefit, he glided a few feet closer. Besides, he had asked and thus considered her adequately forewarned. Nicholas was not ashamed of his body, and if she was going to act so ridiculously, then she was in for quite an eyeful.
At the last possible moment before he would have exposed himself completely, she averted her eyes in embarrassment, leapt to her feet and stomped off in the direction of the stone stairway.
"You surprise me, Suzaku no Miko. Economics?"
She could almost feel his breath on the vulnerable nape of her neck and fervently wished that she had not chosen to wear her hair up in her favoured odango style this morning. What would it be like, to be kissed there…? A tiny treacherous voice in her mind whispered. She shot up from her seat, almost causing the stool to topple over. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" she hissed as soon as she was safely on the other side of the granite-topped kitchen counter, praying to every god in existence that he would not hear the tremor in her voice.
He had the nerve to arch an eyebrow at her, but did not utter a word…Which was not particularly necessary, seeing that he somehow managed to convey a wealth of meaning with a single glance.
Folding her arms defensively, she glared daggers at him, "Go on, I'm sure you're dying to insult my hair. See if I care! It's not like you've never done it before…" her tirade halted abruptly, belatedly realising what she had just said.
He seemed to freeze for a split-second. All traces of mockery vanished, and she found herself on the receiving end of an unsettlingly intense appraisal.
"Do you remember when?" he questioned in a soft demand, his eyes narrowed into shards of glittering blue ice.
"I…" she tried to focus on the fleeting images. The memory of him referring to her by a truly unflattering name surfaced in her mind. "You called me…Odango Atama," she frowned at him. "In a forest…T-Tamahome…" she faltered momentarily, but quickly pushed forward as the recollection became clearer, "Tamahome was there with us. We were lost…And you insulted my hair…" she finished lamely.
"Anything else? Does your flashback extend to why we were there in the first place?"
Miaka shook her head, "No. Yui told me about Tenkou and how we stopped him together, but I don't remember being there and living it! To me, it's just like another story." She looked up at him, expecting him to….What? That annoying little voice in her mind intruded once again. What were you expecting him to do, hmmmm…? it purred like a giant, well-fed cat. She huffed and proceeded to give it a well-aimed mental kick.
Something moved behind the perfect veneer of his handsome features. Had it been anyone else, Miaka would have been willing to swear that it had been…disappointment. Whatever it was, it was immediately suppressed with the ease of long practice. In fact, he does it so often that he's turned it into an art form, she shuddered inwardly at his cold detachment and wondered how any human being could live like that. However, at the moment, she was glad for his icy reserve. Instead of pressuring her to recall more details, he said nothing and efficiently began preparing their breakfast.
"You looked better with long hair," she blurted out suddenly before clapping her hands over her mouth in horror.
Nakago stilled, "Hardly acceptable in this day and age, Miko, unless you happen to be a pop star."
His expression was as unreadable as always, but she thought that she detected a smile lurking in his tone. Miaka didn't miss the fact that he was referring to Hotohori, but since he did not pursue the subject any further, she decided not take up the issue. Watching the graceful movements of his long fingers as he swiftly sliced mushrooms with almost surgical precision, He has nice hands, she could not help musing. And he's a good cook…she blushed at the direction her thoughts were going. I'm not falling for him! It's just…He fascinates me, she told herself resolutely, refusing to delve too deeply into it. Nakago had taken on the task of preparing their meals, telling her on no uncertain terms that he had no intention of testing the limits of his digestive system by eating her cooking. In a way, she was finally beginning to see why Yui and Keisuke seemed to trust him so much. He was not the man whom she last remembered trying to kill her in downtown Tokyo, and while she would not go so far as to say that he had turned into a saint, he was showing remarkable consideration and patience towards her aside from the verbal jabs he dished out at her from time to time.
Not that she didn't secretly enjoy their skirmishes.
Miaka sighed and returned to the thick textbook lying open on the counter. She had been staring at it since the morning's fiasco down at the beach, alternating between trying to figure out what all the graphs with various coloured squiggly lines meant and being distracted by the sound of running water from the bathroom where one lethally desirable and very naked blonde man was showering.
Damn the arrogant jerk! This was all his fault! No sane person would go swimming in the ocean (in his birthday suit, no less) at an ungodly hour the first thing in the morning!
Despite her best efforts to adopt a blasé attitude, her face burned at the memory of what she had been mere seconds away from seeing. Like most girls her age, she had a healthy curiosity about the male of the species and their…er…equipment. But to think that she had almost been treated to an X-rated view of Nakago's—…she gulped and attempted to hide behind the book. On one level, she was desperately trying to banish any thoughts remotely related to the former shogun being in any state of undress. Or taking a bath. Or…being wet. On another level, her worry over her exams loomed just as large in her mind. If she failed the Economics paper, she would not be able to graduate and would have to repeat her final year. Given that her knowledge of the subject was rudimentary at best, it was about to become a very definite possibility.
It was a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Neither seemed appealing.
The sound of a platter being set down in front of her startled her so badly that she nearly ended up on the floor. How long had she been sitting there battling with her inner turmoil? Apparently, she had been far more preoccupied than she had realised, to miss the delicious smell of food which now filled the kitchen. Looking up, she collided with yet another patented smirk.
A mouth-watering mushroom omelette sat just under her nose, along with some buttered toast and bacon. Across the counter, a similar plate had also been laid out.
"I never thought I would see the day that you would be so absorbed in Macro-Economic Theory that you would ignore food," Nicholas stated, gauging her reaction carefully. He had been aware of her introspection while he had gone about making their breakfast. Instead of the expected outburst, her huge, expressive hazel eyes had flicked nervously back to her book as she murmured a soft word of thanks. She did not touch the food on her plate. That, in itself, was sufficient cause for alarm.
He could feel the tension radiating from her; had seen the dark insecurity written across her face. Deciding not to crowd her, he turned to retrieve the appropriate cutlery from the cabinet drawer on the other side of the kitchen. Something was definitely bothering her, and he wished she trusted him enough to tell him what it was.
Miaka's hands tightened on the textbook as she came to a decision. Nakago had been almost nice to her for the majority of the three days they had been trapped here together so far…and those few days had been long enough for her to admit to herself that she could not do this alone. Biting the inside of her cheek, she waited until her former arch-nemesis made his way back and impassively handed her a knife and fork. It's now or never, Yuuki! Miaka told herself as she prepared to throw her lot in with the devil, "Nakago, I…I need y-your help with th-this," she stammered awkwardly, indicating her formidable text. Swallowing her pride, she forced out one last word, "Please."
Although she half-expected him to flay her with a hurtful remark about stupidity before turning her down flat, his lack of acknowledgement of her request proved even more unnerving. He calmly pulled up a bar stool and settled himself on it, facing her squarely across the narrow polished surface of the counter.
"All right."
She let out the breath she had not been aware that she'd been holding, "That's it? Just like that? You're not going to make me beg and grovel?" she could not prevent herself from asking a little suspiciously.
"That was never my intention." A ghost of a smile touched the corners of his mouth, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. Pale silver-blue eyes held hers steadily, as if he was stripping away all the layers of her soul and examining them, one by one.
Suddenly feeling small and petty, Miaka looked down at her food. Once again, it seemed that she had misjudged her erstwhile enemy. Despite all her misgivings about him, she had every confidence in Nakago's ability to help her with her studies…it was securing his agreement to do so that was difficult. But she had managed to overcome that hurdle and relief surged through her. Just like that, the exam did not appear so daunting anymore. Her stomach growled loudly, heralding the return of her appetite. Blushing, she smiled tentatively at him as she picked up the fork, letting him see the hope blooming inside her. "Thank you," she said gratefully.
"You only had to ask, Miko," was all he said before turning his attention to his breakfast.
Notes:
1) In memory of those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001.
2) Some of you might recognise the title "Here there be dragons" or simply "Here be dragons" as a notation found on old English maps. It was often used by map-makers to indicate areas which were unexplored, and therefore believed to be inhabited by fierce dragons that would spell certain doom to the unwary traveller. In this chapter, I intended it to reflect the fact that Nakago represents Miaka's greatest fears…he is the unknown that she must slowly explore and discover. It was purely by chance that Nakago is a Seiryuu seishi, hence also a 'dragon' in a sense.
3) Machiavelli was an Italian author and statesman, who wrote a series of political commentaries. The famous quote, The ends justify the means, is found in his book "The Prince".
4) Extra points to those of you who spotted my parody (and subsequent butchering) of the famous line from the Mission Impossible series: "Your mission, should you choose to accept it…this tape will self-destruct in five seconds."