Quicksilver's Quill Offers
Tears of a Child
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
standard disclaimers
Story One of Seven- Glimpses of a Fallen Star
Spoilers- Up to 33
Author's Notes: "Ototochan"- younger brother, "oniisan"- older brother
I want my mother.
It seems ridiculous, doesn't it? I am one of the chosen warriors of Suzaku, and yet I am afraid. His blood is so red- I didn't realize that red could be so bright. He lies in a pool of his blood, the very substance of life itself, and he's dead. I've read about death so much and can give tell anyone who asks about the stages- soon the pupils will go flat and the body will be begin to decompose- I can't bear to think of it. Just because I've read about it doesn't mean I'm ready to deal with the real thing.
I didn't even get to say good-bye. Nuriko, I didn't know you well enough, but you always acted younger then I did. Still, with you, I could be the child I am. My childhood was stolen from me by this destiny, but when I was in your company, I could forget about that now and then and grasp the fleeting remnants of my youth.
Do you remember that time? The time when we went to town together, just the two of us?
It was after the ceremony to summon Suzaku failed. You invited me to go into town with you, and I must admit to being surprised. We had never had much to do with each other- I was too busy planning on going to get the Shinzaho, while you were dealing with the daily traumas of Miaka and Tamahome. I wonder who will make sure things go right for them now without you to watch over them.
But one day, bright and early, you stuck your head in the doorway, smiling at me with good cheer. You invited me to go along with you to town, but I was reluctant. I had work to do, but you shook your finger in my face and told me that all work and no play was not a good thing for anyone, even Seishi. That still didn't convince me you were right, but by that time you had grabbed me and started dragging me out the door, passed all the servant who shot me commiserating glances. You were well known for your peccadilloes.
I remember asking you where the others were, but you only shrugged your graceful shoulders with the panache that was so much a part of you. With a wink you told me that they were most likely in bed- none of the others recognized what a wonderful thing mornings were. Besides, you wanted to get to know me.
I wasn't sure what to think. Here I was, practically getting kidnapped by a perfect stranger (and we were strangers) who told me they wanted to get to know me. No one had ever wanted to know me- they simply assumed all there was to me was my brain. You didn't make that assumption, and I thank Suzaku that you were one of my brother stars.
That morning stands out as one of the best in my life. We raced from shop to shop, and you told me stories of the others. No one else had really bothered to let me know what had gone on before I arrived- I guess they assumed I knew. As you pulled out shirts and held them against yourself while gazing in a mirror, you laughingly teased me and treated me like I was a kid brother you were affectionate towards, rather then an adult in a child's body. Still, you never were condescending, striking a delicate balance that no one else had ever achieved.
We bought so much stuff! It was fun- you insisted that I spend the stipend that Hotohori allowed the Seishi on gifts for my family, and I'm glad you did. With your help, I chose the perfect present for kaasan... a pair of opal and sapphire earrings that dangled so they brushed against the cheek. I never would have found them, but you did, and haggled like a fishwife to get a good price, even though money was no object. I pointed that out, and you teased me, telling me that it wasn't logical to pay more then you had to, no matter whose money you were spending. Then you paused and looked thoughtful, adding that if it was Nakago's, you'd make an exception to that rule.
Finally we came to a halt outside of a kiosk, carrying a variety of packages. You had offered to take them all, but I was so proud of my purchases that I wanted to lug them around myself, a part of the shopping experience. You grinned at me mischievously and we bought lunch, some of the most disgustingly unhealthy foods we could find. We ate like pigs, until we sat together, leaning on one another, licking our fingers clean to get the last crumbs.
I couldn't help it. The day had released all sorts of pent-up tension in me, tension I hadn't been aware of. I burst out laughing, and laughed so hard and so long that my sides started hurting and my lungs ached from lack of air. You didn't get offended in the slightest- rather, your expression changed to one of gentle satisfaction.
"There. I've been waiting for that," you said.
"Huh?" I replied, not understanding.
You tugged uncomfortably on your braid, and I could see that you were having a hard time finding the right words.
"It's not your fault, you know. Amiboshi tricked the rest of us into believing he was you. It's not your fault that the ceremony was ruined, Chiriko," you said gently.
I felt tears fill my eyes, and I lunged forward into your welcoming arms. No one else had even guessed that something was bothering me, much less what it was. But you did, Nuriko. "If I had arrived earlier, I would have stopped him before the ceremony started!" It had been bothering me for so long, but I hadn't had the nerve to confess my guilt to anyone.
"And if you had arrived later, we would all be dead. The ceremony was destroyed, hai, but what's important is that we're all alive. We're going to go get the Shinzaho. It's important that we're all brave, but we need to rely on each other. If you need a place to cry, ototochan, I'm here for you," you said with caring warmth.
I liked that word- "ototochan". I wanted to be your ototochan more then I could say. So I ignored the crowds that moved around us and sobbed onto your shoulder for a good ten minutes, crying out all the pain and frustration my destiny had placed on me. I cried so hard my eyes were red and swollen. I could hardly see, but you helped me to my feet and suggested we continue our shopping.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of colors and sounds. I don't remember many clear events, a rare occurrence considering my eidetic memory, but I can remember your smile and laugh, the way you gently worked me out of my depression. Finally, the night came.
There was a parade in town- I think it was celebrating Suzaku. I hated being so short- I couldn't see over the heads of the other people. It was insulting- I was thirteen years old and was barely the height of an eight years old. Stunted growth, maybe.
You must have seen the frustration in my eyes. You winked, and before I could say anything, you hoisted me to sit on your shoulders with easy strength. "I won't tell if you don't," you promised.
The parade was wonderful. Some dancers performed the special "Dance of Suzaku", and for the first time, I saw it clearly. That dance will forever be associated with the smell of your hair, which I played with unconsciously.
Finally the parade was over, and it had grown late. I was asleep on my feet, but you carried me back to my rooms, I guess. I don't know for sure, for somewhere on the way, I fell asleep.
Nuriko, do you have any idea how much that day meant to me? Most likely- you were always the most perceptive of us, knowing when something was wrong.
This isn't right. You're not suppose to die. You promised to be there when I cried, and I'm crying now. For you.
I want my mother. Mothers are always able to make things better, no matter how bad things seem. And didn't you call me "ototochan"? That makes you my oniisan. I'm sure my mother would like to meet you.
But she won't. You will stay here, buried in this heathen land, away from the warmth of Suzaku. You died too young. Even I know that. Maybe Mitsukake will let me cry with him later. I have to rely on the others now. I promise you that, Nuriko.
My oniisan.
Tears of a Child
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
standard disclaimers
Story One of Seven- Glimpses of a Fallen Star
Spoilers- Up to 33
Author's Notes: "Ototochan"- younger brother, "oniisan"- older brother
I want my mother.
It seems ridiculous, doesn't it? I am one of the chosen warriors of Suzaku, and yet I am afraid. His blood is so red- I didn't realize that red could be so bright. He lies in a pool of his blood, the very substance of life itself, and he's dead. I've read about death so much and can give tell anyone who asks about the stages- soon the pupils will go flat and the body will be begin to decompose- I can't bear to think of it. Just because I've read about it doesn't mean I'm ready to deal with the real thing.
I didn't even get to say good-bye. Nuriko, I didn't know you well enough, but you always acted younger then I did. Still, with you, I could be the child I am. My childhood was stolen from me by this destiny, but when I was in your company, I could forget about that now and then and grasp the fleeting remnants of my youth.
Do you remember that time? The time when we went to town together, just the two of us?
It was after the ceremony to summon Suzaku failed. You invited me to go into town with you, and I must admit to being surprised. We had never had much to do with each other- I was too busy planning on going to get the Shinzaho, while you were dealing with the daily traumas of Miaka and Tamahome. I wonder who will make sure things go right for them now without you to watch over them.
But one day, bright and early, you stuck your head in the doorway, smiling at me with good cheer. You invited me to go along with you to town, but I was reluctant. I had work to do, but you shook your finger in my face and told me that all work and no play was not a good thing for anyone, even Seishi. That still didn't convince me you were right, but by that time you had grabbed me and started dragging me out the door, passed all the servant who shot me commiserating glances. You were well known for your peccadilloes.
I remember asking you where the others were, but you only shrugged your graceful shoulders with the panache that was so much a part of you. With a wink you told me that they were most likely in bed- none of the others recognized what a wonderful thing mornings were. Besides, you wanted to get to know me.
I wasn't sure what to think. Here I was, practically getting kidnapped by a perfect stranger (and we were strangers) who told me they wanted to get to know me. No one had ever wanted to know me- they simply assumed all there was to me was my brain. You didn't make that assumption, and I thank Suzaku that you were one of my brother stars.
That morning stands out as one of the best in my life. We raced from shop to shop, and you told me stories of the others. No one else had really bothered to let me know what had gone on before I arrived- I guess they assumed I knew. As you pulled out shirts and held them against yourself while gazing in a mirror, you laughingly teased me and treated me like I was a kid brother you were affectionate towards, rather then an adult in a child's body. Still, you never were condescending, striking a delicate balance that no one else had ever achieved.
We bought so much stuff! It was fun- you insisted that I spend the stipend that Hotohori allowed the Seishi on gifts for my family, and I'm glad you did. With your help, I chose the perfect present for kaasan... a pair of opal and sapphire earrings that dangled so they brushed against the cheek. I never would have found them, but you did, and haggled like a fishwife to get a good price, even though money was no object. I pointed that out, and you teased me, telling me that it wasn't logical to pay more then you had to, no matter whose money you were spending. Then you paused and looked thoughtful, adding that if it was Nakago's, you'd make an exception to that rule.
Finally we came to a halt outside of a kiosk, carrying a variety of packages. You had offered to take them all, but I was so proud of my purchases that I wanted to lug them around myself, a part of the shopping experience. You grinned at me mischievously and we bought lunch, some of the most disgustingly unhealthy foods we could find. We ate like pigs, until we sat together, leaning on one another, licking our fingers clean to get the last crumbs.
I couldn't help it. The day had released all sorts of pent-up tension in me, tension I hadn't been aware of. I burst out laughing, and laughed so hard and so long that my sides started hurting and my lungs ached from lack of air. You didn't get offended in the slightest- rather, your expression changed to one of gentle satisfaction.
"There. I've been waiting for that," you said.
"Huh?" I replied, not understanding.
You tugged uncomfortably on your braid, and I could see that you were having a hard time finding the right words.
"It's not your fault, you know. Amiboshi tricked the rest of us into believing he was you. It's not your fault that the ceremony was ruined, Chiriko," you said gently.
I felt tears fill my eyes, and I lunged forward into your welcoming arms. No one else had even guessed that something was bothering me, much less what it was. But you did, Nuriko. "If I had arrived earlier, I would have stopped him before the ceremony started!" It had been bothering me for so long, but I hadn't had the nerve to confess my guilt to anyone.
"And if you had arrived later, we would all be dead. The ceremony was destroyed, hai, but what's important is that we're all alive. We're going to go get the Shinzaho. It's important that we're all brave, but we need to rely on each other. If you need a place to cry, ototochan, I'm here for you," you said with caring warmth.
I liked that word- "ototochan". I wanted to be your ototochan more then I could say. So I ignored the crowds that moved around us and sobbed onto your shoulder for a good ten minutes, crying out all the pain and frustration my destiny had placed on me. I cried so hard my eyes were red and swollen. I could hardly see, but you helped me to my feet and suggested we continue our shopping.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of colors and sounds. I don't remember many clear events, a rare occurrence considering my eidetic memory, but I can remember your smile and laugh, the way you gently worked me out of my depression. Finally, the night came.
There was a parade in town- I think it was celebrating Suzaku. I hated being so short- I couldn't see over the heads of the other people. It was insulting- I was thirteen years old and was barely the height of an eight years old. Stunted growth, maybe.
You must have seen the frustration in my eyes. You winked, and before I could say anything, you hoisted me to sit on your shoulders with easy strength. "I won't tell if you don't," you promised.
The parade was wonderful. Some dancers performed the special "Dance of Suzaku", and for the first time, I saw it clearly. That dance will forever be associated with the smell of your hair, which I played with unconsciously.
Finally the parade was over, and it had grown late. I was asleep on my feet, but you carried me back to my rooms, I guess. I don't know for sure, for somewhere on the way, I fell asleep.
Nuriko, do you have any idea how much that day meant to me? Most likely- you were always the most perceptive of us, knowing when something was wrong.
This isn't right. You're not suppose to die. You promised to be there when I cried, and I'm crying now. For you.
I want my mother. Mothers are always able to make things better, no matter how bad things seem. And didn't you call me "ototochan"? That makes you my oniisan. I'm sure my mother would like to meet you.
But she won't. You will stay here, buried in this heathen land, away from the warmth of Suzaku. You died too young. Even I know that. Maybe Mitsukake will let me cry with him later. I have to rely on the others now. I promise you that, Nuriko.
My oniisan.