Chapter 15: Ghosts of the Past

"Most people are on the world, not in it —have no conscious sympathy or relationship to anything about them—undiffused, separate, and rigidly alone like marbles of polished stone, touching but separate."

--John Muir

They departed from Sairo at dusk, taking advantage of the cool night to travel through the desert. Miaka had bade farewell to Subaru and Tokake, taking their words of encouragement to heart. She promised them that she would not give up, no matter what happened.

As they journeyed further away from Sairo, she could not help noticing how the desert gave way to lush plains and gently rolling green hills. The land was as fertile as the desert was barren. Another thing that was hard to miss was how Nakago seemed to become impossibly more distant and more reticent the more the landscape changed. The pace he set was fast and unforgiving, forcing her to have to run at times to keep up with him. Before, the conversation between them had been restricted to bare necessity and most often, to insulting each other, but at least they had talked. Now, Nakago seemed bent on ignoring her, and her attempts to strike up a conversation inevitably failed miserably.

He had not even made any derogatory comments when she'd done up her hair in her old odango style. He hadn't even seemed to notice. That in itself, was disconcerting. The blonde shogun had never missed an opportunity to insult her.

The strangest thing was, Miaka could almost feel the icy waves of cold indifference emanating from him. And his eyes, which had been a pale, flinty blue in all the time she had known him had turned almost completely silver-grey…

It had been a week since they had entered this land of undulating hills and deep valleys. A week since Nakago has built an igloo around himself and forgot to put in the entrance, she thought with acidic humour. She was getting tired having to be so close to a walking freezer.

It was almost sunset when Nakago finally halted to look around. In fact, he stopped so abruptly that Miaka almost ran into his back. It seemed as if he was searching for something, and she watched in confusion as he suddenly turned off the main path onto a side trail. In typical fashion, he did not offer any explanation for his actions.

The trail was so overgrown with plants that it was almost unnoticeable. It was obvious that no one had gone that way for years. Miaka was sure that she would have missed it had it not been for Nakago. She heaved a sigh, and realised that she had little choice but to follow him. Wearily, she trudged after him.

She was exhausted. Where does this damned trail lead? If Nakago thinks that he can just disappear on me he's got another thing coming…She thought irritably as she forcefully shoved plant foliage out of her way…

…and stepped out onto a cliff.

All around her was a breathtaking view of the landscape. The sun was already dipping low on the horizon, bathing the valley below in warm liquid gold light. "Kirei…" she breathed in awe, her voice hushed.

Nakago stood with his back to her, ostensibly watching the sunset.

He had known that she would follow him without question…had heard her gasp of admiration at the magnificent view. Beautiful…she had whispered.

A breeze wafted gently past them, ruffling his blonde hair and he closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to enjoy the feel of the cool air against his skin. This place held too many memories…and he had not wanted to come back here. Fourteen years…This was where the nightmare had began, fourteen years ago.

"What Chichiri said before, about the Hin…it was true, wasn't it?" Miaka asked suddenly. She remembered Chichiri questioning Nakago just before the summoning of Seiryuu. She had finally managed to put all the pieces of the puzzle together and it all started to make sense now…Nakago's cold silence, the complete lack of any emotion ever since they had set foot here.

She stepped forward, until she drew level with him, "This is where it all happened, isn't it?" Her voice was sober.

The wind rose a notch, whistling around them.

He remained rigidly silent, but she knew that he had heard her. His only response was the abrupt tightening of a fist. Miaka didn't think it was humanly possible, but his expression became even colder than before. The temperature around them felt as if it had dropped below freezing point.

And she was getting more and more pissed off by the second. The stubborn jerk! Who does he think he is?

"Why?" she demanded, unable to contain herself any longer. Turning her head to glare angrily at the blonde man, she let loose. "Why won't you tell anyone? How long do you think you can keep everything inside before you explode? Or go crazy?" Her mouth pressed into a grim line, "Oh wait…you're already crazy."

"Insulting me won't get you anywhere," he said blandly. "Don't you know it is unwise to annoy someone when you are standing so close to the edge of a cliff?"

She ignored his not-so-subtle threat and let out an extremely unladylike snort, but didn't push the issue. It was useless trying to force anything out of him. It was like trying to get blood out of a stone. He would tell her only if he wanted to, and in his own good time. Despite everything, she was concerned about him. Heck, I even did my hair up in odangos just to try to get a reaction out of him, she thought with bitter irony. She wondered when she had started actually caring about her arch enemy. She frowned, trying to pinpoint the exact moment she had stopped hating him…

"Fourteen years ago, Kutou's soldiers attacked this place," the sound jerked her back to the present, "They killed everyone; friends, family…" he smiled mirthlessly, "Yes, I used to have a normal life." Not waiting for a response, he continued, "And I watched them all die."

He stared into the distance, his eyes glazing over as he relived the memory. He wasn't sure why he was even telling her anything, just that something compelled him to trust her. "I saw them raping my mother. It was then that Seiryuu's power awakened, and I killed all of them…including her."

His voice flat as he spoke. Flat and dead, as though he was relating something that had happened to someone else. He told the story as if it was nothing more than a fact, or something he had heard from a friend of a friend who had known someone who'd read about it.

Miaka was horrified, finally realising for the first time, the extent of pain and suffering he had seen and endured. To watch his own mother screaming for help as brutal soldiers did unmentionable things to her…He'd accidentally killed her while trying to protect her. Dear god…I had no idea…It must have been horrible for a child to go through all that. So dreadful…

She could almost understand why he had locked away all his emotions…why he had turned out the way he was. The words he had said to her by the river came back to her.

You think you're the only one who has experienced loss?

She finally knew what he had meant. He had been talking about himself.


Yui slowly came back to consciousness. Opening her eyes, she saw Tetsuya sitting next to her, looking at her with relief.

"Yui-chan! How are you feeling?"

The girl frowned slightly, taking inventory of her own condition. Except for the bone-deep weariness, she felt perfectly fine. Suddenly, her eyes widened as she remembered making her last wish to Seiryuu… being absorbed by the sacred beast…Miaka making a wish to get her back from the dragon…"Miaka! Where is Miaka?" She tried to stand up, but her knees felt wobbly.

Tetsuya quickly moved to support her, "Whoa! Hold on a second! You're not fully recovered!" Gently, he pushed her back down onto the bed. At that moment, Keisuke entered the room, holding a very familiar looking book.

Yui recognised it at once. The Book of the Four Gods. She noticed the strange expressions on both Keisuke's and Tetsuya's faces. With growing trepidation, she asked, "What happened to Miaka?"

Miaka's older brother sighed, exhaustion evident in his voice, "She was absorbed back into the Shijintenchisho."

"What?! But…" Yui was at a loss for words.

Tetsuya took her hand, squeezing it. "And that's not all, Yui…Tamahome is dead."

"Tamahome…is dead?" Yui lifted a trembling hand to her lips, her eyes filling with tears, "Oh no…Poor Miaka! How did this happen? Did Nakago…kill him?" she whispered.

Keisuke shook his head, "Iie, the blonde bastard didn't kill Tamahome. Miaka sealed Seiryuu, then used her last wish to repair all the damage caused to this world. After that, everyone was sucked back into the universe of the Four Gods. There's a new enemy called Tenkou and Miaka must summon Suzaku again to stop him. What's more, Miaka is with Nakago, he actually saved her life…" he said tightly, as if he still did not believe it.

"She's with NAKAGO??" her voice was incredulous. But Nakago tried to kill her! He wanted to destroy all of us! "That's…That's impossible! He'll kill her!"

Tetsuya did not say anything, but handed Yui the Book of the Four Gods. With shaking hands, she opened it. Words were still appearing on the blank pages. Slowly, she read them out aloud as they became visible.

"…the man that Seiryuu no Miko met in Kutou; the man whom Tamahome fought against in the Miko's world, was not even a half of a man…He was but a shadow of a person with a shattered soul. Yet, the wheels of fate are turning and things are changing. With every turn of a page and the passing of time, the ice is melting, a little at a time…"


Miaka caught sight of his eyes and shivered involuntarily. There were no tears…no feelings. She felt as though she was looking into the eyes of a corpse. They were as cold and dead as the bleakest, most barren winter landscape. They weren't even blue anymore.

He stared down at the dizzying drop where the ground ended just inches from his feet, lips curling into a bitter smirk. "Don't waste your tears, Suzaku no Miko. I neither need nor want your pity." The words came out harsh and clipped.

Tears…? She had not even realised that she was crying, but the tears were trickling down her face in a steady stream. She was taken aback by his words. Pity? No…not pity…What she felt was compassion. Maybe even sympathy. But never pity. Why did he think that she would pity him? If anything, she felt the exact opposite. The loss of each and every one of her own seishi had hurt immensely. Losing Tamahome had almost killed her, and she tried not to think about it.

Morbid as it sounded, at least she'd had time inbetween each loss to recover. But Nakago…

He had lost everything in one devastating moment. Everything he had ever known…and everyone he had ever cared about. If she had been in his place, she knew with terrifying certainty that she would not have survived such a thing.

"How can you be so indifferent to all this? How can you be so cold?"

He ignored her, instead focusing his eyes on some invisible point on the distant horizon. She did not need to be psychic to know that he considered the discussion closed. Her faintly accusing questions hung in the air between them, as she turned her attention back to the setting sun. The sunset had painted the sky a dazzling pink-gold. In the distance, she could just make out a meandering river, glistening like a silver ribbon.

How could such a beautiful place harbour such a dark past?

Miaka imagined a race of people who must have lived here, all of whom possessed golden hair and blue eyes. The women, like the landscape, would surely have been breathtakingly beautiful, and the men would have been dashingly handsome…if Nakago was any indication.

Nakago had been a part of this beauty once, but fate and circumstance had taken an innocent boy and turned him into a man twisted by revenge, pain and hate.

It isn't fair! A whole race of people, just destroyed in the whim of an insane emperor…What saddened her the most was that the only living legacy that the Hin had left behind was a man so cold that he might well have been a statue carved from marble with a block of ice for a heart.

She wondered if there had ever been a time when he had been truly happy.

There must have been…before the soldiers came. A long time ago…

She took a step forward, until she was standing right on the edge of the precipice. She drew in a deep breath, committing every detail she saw to memory. She felt even more determined than ever that no one else should suffer. This world, its people had seen enough pain to last an eternity. Maybe two. The people deserved some peace and happiness. Tenkou will not win, I swear it. Her eyes glittered with the force of her conviction.

Miaka turned slowly back to face him, noting how the light had streaked his pale blonde hair with orange and rose highlights. It cast shadows over his face, softening the hard planes, making him look younger, almost…angelic.

She blinked. It was only an illusion caused by the quickly fading light. Like the land, the physical scars had healed, leaving no trace of the abuse, but the emotional scars…

She lifted her head, firmly meeting his wintry gaze. The wind dried the remnants of her tears.

"I've never pitied you, Nakago. Not for a moment. Pity is only for those who deserve it. I don't think you deserve to be pitied…do you?" A trace of a challenge. Her voice was firm, resolute. It wasn't Miaka Yuuki speaking…it was the Priestess of Suzaku.

She paused briefly, her eyes softening. "This place really is beautiful. Thank you…for showing me this."

And thank you for letting me see a part of your past.

She brushed past him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.


Nakago stood unmoving as he considered the Suzaku no Miko's words. To anyone else, what she had said would have sounded unforgiving and uncaring, but he recognised the true meaning behind them.

He had told her that he hadn't wanted her pity…

She was telling him that her knowledge of his past would not cause her to treat him or look at him any differently. The tears he had seen…hadn't been out of pity.

Once again, he had sorely misjudged her.

He felt…different. Not exactly better, but it felt as if a part of him which he had not even known he'd possessed had been laid to rest. The bitterness which had become his constant companion was still there, of course. It would always be there, having become so firmly ingrained in his psyche that he wasn't sure if he could live without its presence.

You're really twisted, you know that? His annoying mental voice remarked in the most acerbic tone he had ever heard…or more precisely, thought.

Self-deprecation at its best, Nakago thought fatalistically. That's what you get when your own mind starts insulting you.

The sun had almost completely set now. He remembered how he used to watch the sunsets on this very cliff with his mother. That had been in another time. In another life.

Are you watching this sunset 'Kaasan? I remember how you used to love them…Do they look different from heaven? A tiny voice at the back of his mind whispered before he could clamp down on it or even acknowledge it.

Fourteen years was a long time, and memories had dimmed. He could barely recall how his mother's voice had sounded as she had sung him to sleep. He could not remember what the other boys he had once played with looked like. He had let go of so many memories over the years…had willed himself not to think of so many things.

He had forgotten so much…

…including how beautiful the sunsets here could be.


He did not have much trouble finding her. All he had to do was follow the sound of her voice.

She was on her knees, trying to kindle a fire…and failing, apparently, if the way she was glowering at the small pile of dry tinder was any indication. Nakago was almost surprised to see that the wood had not spontaneously combusted at the intensity of her glare, or at least melted from the array of unrepeatable epithets she was directing at it.

She did not notice his approach as she let loose another string of less-than-polite phrases under her breath.

"I don't think you can do that to a cat, especially when it's hung upside down. Really, Suzaku no Miko, your fluency at colourful language astonishes me. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" he interjected from behind her.

She jumped at the unexpected sound of his voice, her head whipping around to glare at him instead of at the wood. Miaka valiantly fought the urge to growl something which involved the smirking blonde man standing behind her, a hot poker and a very intimate place where he was unlikely to ever get a suntan. He met her glare with an air of cool amusement.

She watched as he effortlessly started a fire. Damn the man. He makes everything seem so easy. It left her feeling very stupid. She had noticed the difference in his attitude the moment he had spoken. He was back to being cold and obnoxious as opposed to cold and indifferent. She wasn't sure what exactly had changed or whether it was a good thing.

Sighing, she buried her face in her hands. What have I done to deserve this? Yui was lucky. At least she didn't have to put up with a world-class jerk…

She wondered whether there would ever come a day when Nakago would actually be nice to her. Yeah right, and pigs will learn to fly. 'NICE' probably isn't in his vocabulary. She rolled her eyes. The chances of the blonde shogun being nice to her were equivalent to the chances of Miaka being the top student in her class at school.

In other words, never.


Notes:

1) Oh man...writing this chapter was exhausting. Waaaaay too serious in my opinion, so I decided to insert that little scene at the end. Usually I try to inject as much humour as I can into the story...writing serious stuff makes me sleepy...and I type really weird things when I'm sleepy. You'll see what I mean when you read the next few chapters! Consider yourself forewarned...

2) This chapter is a turning point in the way Nakago and Miaka interact with each other. They become more comfortable with each other's company. Not that Nakago will start actually being NICE to the Suzaku no Miko. Not a chance. : :Evil cackle: : He's still gonna be his wonderful evil self, and it's going to drive Miaka up the wall. Verbal warfare and humorous situations abound.