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XXVI
It's a thief in the night
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In one day, they were due to arrive at Eiyou, home to the man Nakago had murdered. Nakago was still alive. Nakago was still traveling with Miaka. And Miaka was growing increasingly desperate.
She felt she was being torn into pieces, as if one false step of hers would effect an avalanche. The promise she had made to Soi had set off this depression. It was too great a burden in combination with her other problems. Save the world, and save Nakago, too!
She did not know how to speak to Nakago after learning what she had from Soi; pity for his former self warred with the knowledge of what he had become; fury at his cruelty outweighed her guilt for her own thoughtless words. Consequently, they spoke little on their journey, and the awkward silence did little to soothe Miaka's feeling of dwindling sanity.
That is – until the third day of their near-silent journey together. That was the day that everything went wrong; the day that heaven seemed to decide to take a hiatus from making sure the world ran right and let darkness have its fun as it liked. How fitting, that it was two months to the day after Tamahome's death.
This realization came to her as they ate wild duck silently during their noonday stop. It was as if a rock had suddenly settled behind her ribcage, bringing with it a leaden heaviness, which crawled into her throat. The slightest thing was suddenly enough to remind her of what she had lost. They were sitting beneath pine trees, and the scent from the rising sap brought at once to her mind the wood of Tamahome's dresser – pine, and sharp smelling. It had infiltrated his clothes, and so it was a scent she had come to associate with him in her mind.
She lowered her head, but no amount of forcing could turn her mind off the scent which surrounded them. The sky was dark, but not dark enough to hide her tears, which built up behind her eyes. Pressure forced them out, the pressure of a hundred memories that battered her skull and buffeted the backs of her now-closed eyelids. Her cheeks were wet; she could feel the tears tracing sticky tracks down her chin, dripping onto the ground like saltwater rain.
Please, she thought, let me stop crying so that I can pack camp and we can leave this place. She continued to hide her face, even as the minutes ticked by, even though she knew it was time to break camp. Nakago could not see. Nakago –
"Miko," said Nakago. She could not move, crouched against the pine tree, hair across her eyes. He reached a hand forward, and before she could stop him he had lifted the curtain of hair from her eyes.
"Hm."
There was a sneer to his voice, or perhaps cold laughter, as his glittering eyes met hers. She did not know how she knew, but Miaka suddenly understood that Nakago wanted to humiliate her, had been waiting for this opportunity for the entirety of their journey alone together. What had brought on this newfound malevolence she did not know; she only knew that he wanted to drive painful words beneath her skin like splinters. Had Miaka thought, she might have drawn some connection between their departure from Soi and Nakago's ill temper. She did not consider this. It seemed much too far a stretch that Nakago's malevolence might be the product of worry.
"Nakago," she said, her voice more sob than words.
"Pathetic, Suzaku no Miko."
"I have a right to be sad," she said harshly. "It's exactly two months since my world was ruined forever."
"And that gives you right to be sad?" he said cruelly. "Do you think sadness is a right, Miko of Suzaku? Do you intend to sit here bawling as demons overrun this world? Will tears stop them?"
"You don't have to be so cruel!" she cried.
"Weak, helpless miko. What use are you to anyone? If the brat were still alive he would see what a useless, weeping thing he married. I wonder if he would still or reconsider. But the boy always had poor judgment."
Her eyes blazed. "DON'T-" she screamed.
He caught her wrist before she had a chance to flame him. She was scorching his hand – she could smell burning flesh and it sickened her – but still he hung on, still his eyes lanced her skin like needles. "Don't what, Suzaku no miko?"
The sky had threatened thunderstorms all morning, and these seemed to decide that now would be a fair time to break. Cascades of rain poured down around them – frozen miko and cruel seishi of Seiryuu, gazes locked in pure hate, until finally Nakago, lip curling, released her wrist and murmured, "Break camp."
That afternoon, Miaka concluded two things.
The first was that Nakago did not deserve, and would never receive, her pity.
The second was that – whatever Soi's opinion might have been – no one had ever needed less protection than Nakago, Emperor of Kutou.
-v-
Nakago watched the miko. Her sleep was restless; he suspected his words regarding Tamahome still disturbed her. That did not trouble him. Her lack of control was a continued annoyance which weighed on his mind like a heavy sack. She was thin, frail, impossibly vulnerable, with no hope of completing the mission to summon the gods. He could so easily be rid of her. He had only to call on Tenkou and the demon would appear, right here, right now.
Had he trusted Tenkou fully to uphold his promises, the miko would already be in Tenkou's possession. It was the assassin that had stopped him – the assassin that Tenkou had sent the morning the miko had left the palace at Kutou. The appearance of the assassin told Nakago that Tenkou did not fully trust him, that Tenkou was testing his resilience. It had filled him with wariness. And yet, Nakago could still turn the miko in to Tenkou now, claiming that his protection of her on the ridge had been key to making her trust him utterly.
He knew the time was coming when he would have to make a choice; it was a dangerous game he played, balanced upon the edge of a knife, on neither one side nor the other. He was realistic enough to know that such a position was precarious, untenable. Soon he would fall, unless he stepped off the knife-blade of his own will.
His mother would have had him side with the miko – whose power was still undeveloped, tenuous, unpredictable at best. Did she have the strength to fulfill a quest which seemed to him increasingly unlikely to be completed at all?
His fingers found something small and soft in the mess of dirt and rubble on the ground beneath him. He lifted the blue flower that had been growing in the most improbable of places, crushing it between his fingers.
"I do not require your continued interference, Mother," he said coolly. "I know very well where you stand on this matter."
The wind caught his words, carried them out of the cave and upward. Perhaps they would reach Mount Taiitsukun; perhaps they would be lost on the wind like the scent of the blue flower, now crushed in his hand.
-v-
Miaka met Yui Hongo on a cloud overlooking the mountains. The air should have been cold but Miaka didn't feel it, which was how she knew it was a dream. The fact that she was 3000 feet in the air and not falling also played a role in this conclusion.
It was not the first time Miaka had met Yui in this way, but it was the first time since Tamahome's death. Even before his death, their conversations had been infrequent, perhaps once every two or three months. Miaka did not know what rule of the universe Taiitsukun was bending so that she was still able to keep this one last, fragile tie to her native world, but she was grateful for it.
Yui's arms encircled her now, oddly solid in spite of the fact that they were communicating by dream. Miaka had just told Yui of Tamahome's death, in as few words as was possible to convey so heavy a circumstance. Now, Yui watched her as though worried Miaka would vanish into a void of despair at any minute; Miaka found her look strangely stifling.
"I'm not sad now," said Miaka. She was surprised to find that this was true. Her earlier sadness had vanished, leaving behind something like blankness.
"Yes you are," said Yui. "Don't lie!"
Perhaps I am losing my heart, thought Miaka. She pulled herself free of Yui's grasp to look at her friend. "How much time has passed?" she said. "What's happened back at home?"
She tried to force out of her head the demon's jeer: You will never be free to go home, even if you succeed.
"It's been twenty days in our world since you summoned the gods," said Yui.
Miaka would be an old woman when Yui was barely out of her teens. It was a grim verdict, and one she had tried not to dwell on.
"Tetsuya asked me to go on a date," Yui said. "I said yes." She said it matter-of-factly, as though she was discussing the results of an exam, or the weather. "You look worried," she said.
"I have to figure out how to escape someone who is impossible to fool," Miaka murmured. With her toe, she poked one of the clouds they sat on.
"You are traveling with Nakago?" A frown marred Yui's brow. "The book did not explain why."
"I won't be with him much longer," said Miaka. "Soon we'll reach Eiyou, and I don't know what will happen if he's still with me by then. What Hotohori will – what Nakago will do to Hotohori."
"Are you planning to kill Nakago?"
Miaka's head flew up. Yui's words had been dispassionate, but her eyes were not. She looked sad. Miaka remembered that for her, it had only been three weeks since the gods had been summoned. Miaka was not the only one that the Shijintenchisho had changed.
"I've never killed anyone!" Miaka said emphatically. She shot a sidelong glance at Yui. "Are you saying I should? I guess no one has ever deserved it more than Nakago –"
No, that wasn't true. After what Soi had told her, she did not know if he deserved it still or not.
"I do not know why he is here!" It was a cry of frustration, furious and miserable. "Do you know what he said to me today? How he insulted Tamahome? I despise him."
Yui watched her quietly, hands drifting through the clouds. This was a dream, so they felt soft, like feathers brushing against her skin.
"Miaka," she said slowly. "I don't think you should kill Nakago."
Miaka relaxed. "You don't?" she said.
"No," said Yui. "I would worry more if Nakago were treating you as though you actually thought you worth his time. I doubt he is toying with you."
"But what if he kills Hotohori?" said Miaka.
"Then," said Yui, "the second emperor in a month will have died, and Hong-Nan will have a new king."
-v-
The flush of cold water across her face and neck brought her out of her sleep and off the pallet with a furious shriek. Coolly, Nakago tossed the empty cup away.
"I gave you a chance," he said.
"I said ten minutes!" Miaka cried.
"You have said the same thing the last three times I tried to rouse you," he said unflappably. "It is your turn to keep watch. I would like some sleep before the night is out."
The top of her tunic was soaked. The mountain night air was not frigid, but neither was it warm, and Miaka felt like shouting. They were camped inside a cave, which sheltered them from the wind, but it did not stop her from shivering.
It was three in the morning, far too early for any reasonable person to be awake, much less without coffee. Miaka changed quickly in the dark of the cave, shooting glares at Nakago. He was not watching. When she was once again dry, she crept to the mouth of the cave beyond their small fire.
From there, she regarded the man she was supposed to protect. His face was as coldly beautiful by night as it was in daylight, features highlighted by the splash of firelight off his cheekbones. He was close enough to the firelight that she could see every detail of his face, from the way his lashes framed his closed lids to the arch of his cheekbones, thrown into sharp relief by the dying flames.
Miaka's heart sped up, but did not soften, at the sight.
"Although some would call your fascination for me flattering, you are not keeping watch, miko."
Her face went a sharp red, hidden in the shadows. "Stop pretending to be asleep when you actually aren't," she hissed, and she turned toward the front of the cave.
She felt unnerved with her back to him, as though suddenly Nakago had become more of a menace than any demon that walked the night. Fifteen minutes passed before she dared glance toward him again.
This time, his breathing was more regular, even and measured like the beat of seawater on a shoreline. She counted seconds between breaths. Without even realizing it, she found herself breathing in time to Nakago. She relaxed.
He was asleep.
It was time. Time to act, time to ensure that Nakago did not ever enter Eiyou, did not bring his malevolence to bear on Hotohori, or on the others she cared about. Time to show that strength and not weakness governed her actions; time to cease being afraid.
She did not know what Nakago's intentions were, but they could not be anything but bad; their exchange in Mitsukake's garden, when she had accused him of targeting Hotohori, burgeoned in her mind like a cancer. She could not let any more harm come to the people she loved; she could not be convinced of Nakago's good intentions; and thus, she must stop him. His cruelty to her that day proved that he could not stand for anything good.
She raised her hands in front of her. Red light blossomed before her fingers in a curved arc, spreading gently across the cavern, to cover Nakago's form in a glowing orb.
She would run. Nakago would be trapped here, until she was too far from the cave to maintain her barrier, until she was practically at Eiyou's gates. He would likely sleep through her departure and not even realize she was gone until morning.
She picked up her pack, shoving the remains of the night's food inside it. Here, she hesitated. Surely Nakago would not miss some of his provisions, not when they were this close to civilization. She removed a few cakes from his bag. She was still growing – at least, in the horizontal dimension.
She smiled and reached for the staff. Throughout all her activity, the barrier had continued to glow softly, testimony to her newfound skill. She stepped back, toward the edge of the cave.
Nakago's eyes opened.
Author's note:
Heh. Cliffie. Thanks for all your reviews and encouragement; it's good to know some people out there are still reading this! ^_^
-v-
Questions from you:
1) Does lanxing represent Miaka? Is it a symbol that Nakago's mother used to remind him that he has to maintain a semblance of humanity?
Both of those things, but maybe a bit more the former.
2) I am looking forward to more Nakago x Miaka sparring/bonding.
Good, so am I.
3) I feel bad for Soi as she's going to be left behind after all she did for Nakago. Will she find her happiness at the end of this story? or at least…a happy closure?
If all goes well… I do like happy endings. But no guarantees that her life won't be even more screwed between now and the story's end.
4) How does Nakago feel about Tenkou?
Maybe this chapter answered that question, at least a little. Nakago holds no love for Tenkou. At the same time, he respects the power Tenkou wields, and he has no intention of sacrificing his life on a fool's journey where he has no hope of succeeding.