Disclaimer: It ain't mine.
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, I've been too damn busy with school. But, WOOHOO! I finally get to explain my thinking! Thanks Mew. (And I mean that, I'm not being rude or sarcastic. I've been WAITING for someone to bring it up so I could get into it! I owe you!) About Chichirri knowing better then to get revenge, typically yes, he would. But think about it, the poor bastard has been drained of all fluids. He's dry. Dehydration leads to madness. All in all, Chichirri ain't all there. He's not going to be the calm, rational gentleman we're all used to in the series. People go crazy in the desert. Heat + Too Much Time + No Water = One Mad Monk who isn't Rasputin. As for Miaka remembering Yui. She doesn't. She only thinks she remembers Yui because the name "kinda, sorta, maybe" sounds familiar. She needs something to cling to, it'd be pretty devastating to wake up with no recollection of anything at all. And what do people do? (Especially people like her?) They make themselves feel better through little things. Miaka doesn't really remember Yui. She's been told she knows her, so she's tricking herself into thinking she REALLY knows her. She, like anyone else, wants to be the person they're told they once were. Hence her 'knowing' who Yui is. How would she know, much less like, Tamahome if she's never been told he exists? And on a personal level, I really hate those two characters. Miaka and Tamahome and their whole thing makes me cringe. So don't be expecting Tama-homeboy to come rescue his love. This is written by a Pro-Seiryu kind of FY fan. Now, let the wild rumpus start! (Can we all tell I've had a tad too much sugar?) And if, dear readers, you're not following this, just say something and I'll type up a more coherent explanation backed with legit information.
The Gods were conversing for the first time in many human millennia. Of course, to them no time had come or gone. It was eternity in which they dwelled outside in the ether of the universe amid endless stars and eons. Genbu and Byakko were less inclined to be interested in the situation that had arisen, their Mikos had completed their purposes and were years away from returning. It was Suzaku and Seiryu's situation to handle, not theirs. Nonetheless cosmic decorum called for them to attend and act as mediators between the two clashing deities. They could not afford to have the universe collapse in on itself, could they? It was in a language that mortals, with their infinite limitations, could never hope to comprehend that the debate took place. Fire and water clashed as the Phoenix and Dragon argued, nearly coming to blows. The roughest translation into the human language could be interpreted as such:
"This goes against protocol, common garden newt. As it was written we shall not concern ourselves with the welfare of mere mortals." The bird beat his wings, bearing his chest and rising. A roar blasted through the ether, momentarily capturing Byakko and Genbu's interest. Teeth were bared as the dragon writhed into another ring and rose to meet his adversary.
"These are not mere mortals. These are my Seishi and my Miko. It is no fault of mine that yours have been so foolish as to be killed. If I, Seiryu, have deemed that the conditions in which they entered this world are repealed, then so be it. Neither you nor that had on any mountain can change my decree!"
A stream of fire spit through space as the phoenix twisted its neck. "This goes against all that is natural! You are going against the laws of the Universe that existed prior to our own! The state of being which any Miko exists in can not be altered!" The indignant screech pierced the ears of Byakko. The tiger roared, calling for silence.
"While I do not approve of Seiryu's actions, Suzaku, there are no laws that dictate that the existence of the Miko can not be altered. That was merely a precaution Genbu used to assure his Miko a smooth transition home once she completed the summoning. If Seiryu wishes to allow his Miko to age, and to continue her growth, it is allowed." The Deity of Fire raged and drew back, prepared to strike.
"This is unorthodox!"
"That is not your concern, pheasant. How I conduct those who are to summon me is my own matter, and not yours. This will ensure that the Miko is not destroyed by superstitious peasants and will ensure she will still be alive to summon me." An evil shine glinted through his cold eye. "Since your own Miko inhabits that same village, it would be wise of you to follow my actions. Despite your sudden scarcity of Seishi. It would be a shame to see them burn such a young girl for witchcraft, her being unable to age and all."
It was with these parting words that the Lizard God returned to his realms of comfort, leaving the three deities behind. Soon after Genbu and Byakko departed as well, leaving the phoenix to sulk between time and space. Accepting the reality of the situation he prepared to make arrangements for Suzaku no Miko. Before his jump to a calmer plane of existence, a thought crossed his mind that caused the surly God to smile. He was, after all, the God of Fire, all that was passion in the world. With Seiryu no Miko away from the chilling influence of her Deity, and with a Seishi whom already had feelings for her . . . whose feelings she would have readily reflected under different circumstances . . .and with the proper guidance of Suzaku's influence it would only be a matter of time before that boy rendered her useless as a Miko. Both willing, naturally. With an appreciative thought to young love, Suzaku jumped dimensions that much calmer, his thoughts turning to the best way to execute his plan.
* * * *
Nakago had killed two horses under him in his haste to return to the safe house. Soi had managed to maintain pace with him for the greater part of the journey until he ordered her to rest at the last Inn and wait for the guards and spies to catch up. The closer he got the greater his premonitions of disaster grew. He was nearly there. Suboshi would be punished, severely. It was an unfortunate fact that Yui would be crushed if he died, even in an accident or completing his duties as a Seishi. Nakago smirked slightly, imagining her reaction if he openly killed that arrogant youth, he was quite aware of the amount of disdain and animosity the boy held for him. He recalled the recent events that had occurred immediately after Ashitare's human half, if that's what it could be called, had been killed. Suboshi had been rather distraught and impertinent enough to burst in on a meeting he was having with Yui, demanding answers. As Yui had pointed out later, Nakago's evident indifference had most likely triggered a reaction due to his brother's demise. He really couldn't care less either way, snot-nosed boy Seishi were simple tools, not the objective. The objective was to keep Yui willingly on a tight chain until Seiryu was summoned. He had thought it would be more difficult to manipulate a Seishi, but after what Yui had been through, as far as she knew, she had become quite self-destructive. And Suboshi, despite his best intentions, was still too cowed without his brother to do a damn thing about it. No matter how much he wanted to save his precious Miko.
All at once his placid train of thought was derailed by the sight of the safe house before him. He brought his horse to an abrupt halt as confusion wormed its way through his mind. Taking a moment to compose himself, lest anyone be on the premises, Nakago slowly approached the seemingly abandoned manor. Calculating the scene that lay before him, the Shogun came to two conclusions. Number One, there had not been an attack on the manor, it had been voluntarily abandoned. Number Two, someone was going to pay very, very dearly for this. He rode past the stables while noting that all the horses had been taken, there had been more horses then soldiers. He glanced at the ground, studied the tracks that tore up the soft ground of the region. Soft chunks of turf lay all over the compound. Nakago frowned, whoever was riding the horses had left rapidly, all within a few minutes of each other. They had fanned out in all directions. He continued to the manor, noting the traces of debris around the courtyard. Various weapons and loose articles of armor and clothing lay in the torn turf, battered from passing horses. Nakago reflected that he would have suspected the troops fleeing with the Miko due to an ambush, but there was a curious lack of damage . . .anywhere. What the hell happened here? He dismounted his horse and plodded up the main stairs into the house.
The manor mirrored the chaos of the courtyard. Valuable paintings had been knocked from the walls and lay trampled and dirtied on the floor. The light bamboo doors had been torn from their hinges where it seemed two or more men had attempted to storm through at once. The makeshift mess hall was worst of all. Slowly, Nakago picked his way among the scattered bowls and upturned tables. There had been a rapid mass exodus from the room. Judging from the contents in the bowls, the troops had been eating their lunch moments before they fled the room. He did not call out into the house, he had no need to be an irrational fool. Striding along the ruined halls Nakago finally came to the Miko's small suite of rooms. Of course, she wasn't there. He would have felt her chi long before he entered the manor. What slightly shocked him was the amazing order her rooms were in. Aside from a few doors ajar, and a few pieces of furniture moved from their original places, the Miko's room was by far in the best shape. Nakago closed his eyes and stretched his chi out, attempting to feel anything that remained. Faint residual chi from the Miko remained, she had been asleep the time last she was in this room. There was another chi force, though it was too weak for Nakago to distinguish. The power of raw terror from the troops interfered with his clairvoyance. With a brisk, irate step Nakago exited the manor just in time to see the man he left in charge coming charging up. Nakago stood still, drawn up in a full regal manner, projecting the power that he was.
"Lord Nakago!" The fellow called the gasp rasping clear in his voice. He half fell off his horse in the dismount. The beast itself had sweat running down it's flanks in rivers and visible sores from where the saddle had been rubbing against its hide. The foam at its mouth a sign of its suffering. Nakago noted, without amusement, that the man was foaming at the mouth nearly as much as the horse. The crusted white build up that signified exertion on the body without the water to hydrate it.
"What has happened here?" He demanded as the man collapsed at his feet, out of exhaustion as opposed to respect. The man looked up, his fear revealed in every nuance of his face and eyes.
"Lord Nakago. Found. Lady Soi." The man rasped, speaking in gasps as he forced air into his lungs. "Came as. Soon as. Possible. Right. Away. The Miko. Gone. Yesterday. Taken." Nakago felt his eye twitch.
"Taken? Did you not have the guards positioned as I ordered?" Somewhere deep inside him the primordial urge to destroy this incompetent was growing. He pushed it back down. For the time being. The man nodded.
"Doubled guards too." He was breathing slightly better now. "Every precaution taken. Nobody saw anything. When we thought we might check on the Miko . . .she was gone. We all rode out. As soon as we heard." The last few words were said with such a tone of incredulity that any thought's of the man lying left Nakago's mind. "Lord Nakago . . .there's no way . . .and no one saw anything, but she wasn't there!" Ignoring the now groveling man, Nakago strode past him and mounted his waiting horse.
"And Miboshi?"
"Lord Miboshi continued to the monastery before we discovered the Miko's absence. Riders have been sent after him. Scouts have been dispatched in every direction, we are doing our best to locate her, Lord Nakago." He paused, unsure. "Do you think it was the Suzaku Seishi?" Nakago coldly looked down at him.
"No." No sense in misleading the simpletons, it would only delay finding the key to his power. "I believe it was Suboshi." That Captain gasped, his eyes flying wide and mouth gaping open. "As you know he has been mentally unstable for some time now. It grew worse after his brother was killed."
"B-But Lord Nakago! Surely that boy couldn't have-"
"Tomo was found dead by his weapon. Now the Miko is gone. Surely you are aware of his obsession with her?" The man nodded slowly. "If we do not find her soon, I fear that he may harm her." The man nodded and stoically rose to his feet, grabbing the bridle of his horse. Nakago almost laughed at how readily these fools believed anything he told them. Suboshi hurting Yui was about as likely as Miboshi bedding Soi. "Have you . . .questioned the locals?" The tone implied the words that went unspoken.
"Yes, Lord Nakago. I assure the Shogun that the locals have been questioned to the full. We can positively surmise that they have not seen anyone with the Miko. Nor Suboshi." Already the Captain was spitting the boy's name as an obscenity. Nakago smiled, turning away towards the gates of the manor.
"I shall send a rider to Kutuo for additional scouts and muster what I can from local supporters. Until a satisfactory force is available, or the Miko is found, your men will have no rest."
"Lord Nakago, they would not rest even had you not given the order. Our prime concern is the quick and safe retrieval of our Miko." The Captain mounted his horse. He followed Nakago out of the compound. Suboshi . . .Nakago brooded as they rode back to the Inn. When I find you . . .I will not stop at killing you. A cruel smirk played on his lips. It would be an amusing challenge to find a punishment suitable for the one who had dared to disrupt his otherwise smooth transition to immortality.
* * * *
An arid wind blew over the desert, whipping sand into the red, irritated eyes of the mage monk. He held one torn hand futilely against the blowing winds in a vain attempt to shield his face. Chichirri almost wished for his mask before remembering how the sweat boiling from his skin had rendered the weak adhesive he used useless long before it had been torn beyond any form of protection. He had survived another bitter, chilling night without shelter. His reward . . . living another day, being baked alive and forcing himself across a wasteland, footstep by bone wrenching footstep. The weak murmurs of dying comrades ringing in his ears, blocking out the soft, empty sounds of the vast open space. Thinking back to the mask, he ran a bleeding hand over his brow. He was no longer sweating in rivers. He was no longer sweating at all. When he had first woken from his stupor of the Seiryu spell, and seen his dying fellow Seishi, he had accepted that the next few days would be the last. Vengeance was worth it. He needed his retribution. Everything in him demanded it. Feelings he had not felt since the betrayal of those closest to him had come rushing back, filling up the inner void he had felt over the death's of Chiriko and Mitsukake. A few hours after . . .Tasuki. Tasuki who had been convinced he was merely very drunk. Chichirri had deemed it more merciful to allow the bandit to believe he was still with his fellow bandits and Koji on his beloved mountain, to vehemently deny he was a Suzaku Seishi, then to open the dying man's eyes to reality.
He had his reason to live. He was getting closer and closer. For reasons unknown to the Seishi, the two Seiryu had stopped moving all together. Here it was at mid day and they had stopped. Trying to beat the sun, are you? Only move at night when it's cooler? A nasty smile etched its way across the monk's face. Their precaution would be their undoing. He had nothing to live for after this. No motivation to conserve his energy for a valiant escape from the desert. He imagined the two 'safe' in their tent, napping lightly. Sleep was a rare commodity in this heat. Chichirri dragged himself across a flat stretch of sand. Closer. This had been his ritual for the eternity of past miles that lay behind him, his footprints always erased by the wind and shifting of the sand. His staff would sink into the gray/yellow grit before him and lurch behind him as the monk forced his body forward in a morbid rhythm. Glazed eyes never truly taking in the surroundings. Not much to see. The bitter sentiment burned across Chichirri's mind.
Seeing was seeing what he had seen for . . .how long had it been? He could no longer remember. He no longer cared. There were looming, rolling dunes that piled before him, too shallow to provide shade and too towering to trip over. Too shallow to roll down and spare his legs was an added insult that often played. Peering past a swollen tongue at bloodied, burnt feet covered with encrusted pus and blisters. The vast spans of yellows, browns, grits, grays broken by streaks of pure white. The white sand of distant shores that stood out to mock his parched mouth and dry mind. Oh yes, the scenery had remained the same. Sun. Sand. Carrion. The steady shuffling sound of the sand. The crunching under his tread. The hollow howling of the wind. The cracking of his joints. Deafening silence and caws of the blood drinking birds of carnage. Chichirri stumbled and lay at the base of a dune.
A curse rang through the air.
Chichirri raised his head from the sands. His blue hair stiff from the long gone sweat and scraping at his eyes. Scrambling to his feet, clutching the staff, he reached out into the Universe with his training. The force of the Seiryu chi blasted through him in his weakened state, knocking the monk from his feet. Crawling on his belly like a slithering lizard (Irony, the monk smirked through cracked lips) Chichirri struggled against the tides of sand that pushed against him and slowly, slowly made his way to the crest of the dune. Yellow. Not the dull yellow of the sand. The mild glitter of hair. The tan flesh of the hand running through the hair. The boy . . .Suboshi.
The killer. The child murderer. Cold-blooded. Evil. A feral snarl flew over Chichirri's face. Blood boiled in his veins, heated by the anger the rushed through his body, refreshing him. A palm clenched on the thick, heavy staff. The Seiryu had his back to him. The Seishi was knelt over, stoking a small camp fire. Vaguely, the monk was aware of the Seiryu no Miko off in the distance. Out of sight, judging from the bowl shaped formation of the surrounding dunes. The small tent, the fire and the boy were in the bottom of the bowl. Back turned.
Staff in hand, Chichirri descended.
* * * *
Yui had taken the time, as Shun had suggested, to cleanse herself thoroughly in the oasis. A faint blush came over her face as she thought of the kind young man, with his innocence and naive charm. She shook her head slightly, tugged at the sleeves of her dress. The sun was nearing its harshest glare of the day. She hoped Shun would have their lunch ready, then they could eat and rest before continuing home during the cooler hours of the evening.
"Gahhh!" The scream pierced through the air and jerked Yui from her thoughts. She stood stunned and still a moment, before hearing a shout of shock and anger. Shun! She began to run for the camp.
