@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---
The Calling
By Moonsong
tsukinouta@yahoo.com
Part 2: Challenge Accepted
For once, Kishuku was enjoying the walk home. No bullies, no one
waiting to push him into mud puddles, no one making fun of him or
his family; it almost felt like heaven. And it was all due to the
white-haired stranger who strolled leisurely next to him.
"Once the seven seishi are gathered, the miko can summon her god
and save the world," the older man finished, glancing over at the
young boy for his reaction.
His forehead was lined with concentration as he absorbed the
entire legend. "So, all this is to protect some girl?"
"Yes."
"I'm not risking my life for some stupid GIRL! If she's so
special, she should be able to defend herself!"
Lan couldn't help but laugh. The boy was standing in the middle
of the street, hands on his hips, an indignant expression on his
red face.
"You WILL protect the miko and you WILL like it," he admonished,
trying to look stern.
"Iie!" the boy replied playfully, his eyes lighting while he
tried to keep up his indignant pout.
"Kishuku? Is that you?"
The boy's face broke into a smile. "Hai, okaasan!" he called and
bounded into one of the small huts lining the road.
Lan paused a moment, then followed gingerly, taking care to duck
under the low doorframe.
The inside of the dwelling was dim, in contrast to the bright
sunlight outside, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.
Once they did, he almost wished they hadn't. The place was
shabby; the furniture, or what passed for it, was threadbare,
some of it in desperate need of fixing. The walls were patchy, so
thin in some places that sunlight streamed through the dirty
straw.
Still, it was not his place to judge; and Tamahome certainly
seemed happy enough to be home. Smiling, he watched his young
charge disappear into one of the rooms.
"Kaasan! Tousan! I brought a friend!"
"Kishuku! Hush! I just put your little broth-"
The words froze in her throat as they emerged from the room. Her
eyes fell upon the handsome stranger standing in the middle of
their hut.
Laughing, Kishuku let go of her hand and went over to Lan.
"Sensei, this is my-"
"Older sister, I'm sure," Lan interjected smoothly, taking the
woman's hand and brushing it with his lips briefly.
Kishuku's mother colored becomingly and she snatched her hand
from his grasp, avoiding his gaze.
"Who are you?"
"Boku wa Hahm Lan-uan," he answered, straightening. "I have come
to teach your son. He has been chosen as one of the Suzaku
Shichiseishi and-"
"You will NOT do any such thing!" a masculine voice bellowed from
the doorway.
The little boy's face fell. "Otousan..."
His father entered the room, eyes blazing. He did not like this
stranger telling him what to do with his son and he definitely
didn't like the look the other man was giving HIS wife. Crossing
the small room in an instant, he planted himself slightly in
front of his wife, eyeing the interloper icily. "He is not to be
trained."
Lan was appalled. Tamahome... not be trained? The idea was
preposterous... unthinkable! Did these people not realize the
honor bestowed upon them by their very god?
His emotions must have leaked into his expression for Kishuku's
mother started walking towards him, an apologetic smile on her
face. "Hahm-san, you must understand, our family is poor and we
simply cannot afford to have Kishuku trained to become this
warrior you speak of."
Immediately, her husband's glare transferred onto her. She looked
away. Lan noticed as well but chose to ignore it.
"Iie," he began, "you would not have to pay for this training. It
is my duty to teach your son; to prepare him for the time when he
must defend his country and his miko."
"You will do no such thing!" the other man repeated vehemently.
"You will not take our eldest son away from us, to perish in some
holy war. Find your seishi somewhere else!"
By now, Kishuku was close to tears. "Otousan," he pleaded,
"onegai..."
Lan stood his ground. "I cannot do that. Seishi are chosen by
their gods and are marked as such. I do not control who
Suzakuseikun chooses, any more than you can. You must understand,
this is a great honor for your family-"
"Iie!"
That was it. Lan's patience evaporated and he fixed the
confounded man with an icy glare of his own. "Whether you like it
or not, whether you accept it or not, your boy IS a Suzaku Seishi
and he WILL fight when the time comes. If you want to send him
into battle untrained and defenseless, that is your choice but I
do not want the blood of this child on my hands because you
refused to let me train him!"
The other man backed away slightly, surprised by this outburst.
He didn't know what to think. "I-I think you should leave now,
Hahm-san..."
Lan deflated, his anger leaving in a rush. Dammit. He shouldn't
have lost control like this. He shouldn't have...
Sadly, he looked down at Kishuku, the boy's mournful gaze meeting
his. He looked away, unable to meet those dark eyes. He'd failed
the boy. He'd failed Suzaku.
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hahm-san?"
It was Kishuku's mother. By the four gods, he did not want them
to see him like this. Suddenly, leaving sounded like a very good
idea.
"Hai," he said softly. "I will go." He turned towards the
doorway, then paused and looked back. He couldn't leave without
trying at least one more time. He owed Tamahome at least that.
"Please think upon what I have said. This is a grave situation
and I am looking out for your son's best interests."
The father nodded slowly and Lan took himself out of the house.
~*~*~*~*~
"You'd think being a seishi would have taught me to not be so
d*mned ^&*%ing STUPID!"
Lan growled and drove his fist into one of the wooden beams
supporting the roof above his porch. The entire structure shook.
The front door opened and closed. Lan rested his forehead on the
warm wood, shutting his eyes in frustration. Two arms encircled
him from behind, holding him gently.
"Daijoubu," she said, her voice muffled against his back. "You
will try again tomorrow."
The figure moved to his side, keeping a comforting arm around his
waist. Sighing softly, Lan rested his head on hers, allowing
himself to relax.
"Sensei!"
The breathless voice drew him out of his reverie. He shot up and
hurried down the steps and into the street.
"Kishuku, what are you doing out here? How did you find me?"
The boy shrugged. "I followed you."
Lan frowned. "Your father would not be pleased."
"I know," came the defiant reply. "But he doesn't understand. I
WANT to be a seishi. I want to learn."
"Kishuku..."
"Iie!" The boy stamped his feet and stared at the older seishi,
determination setting his mouth in a grim line. "Iie," he
declared quietly. "I want to be called Tamahome."
~ TBC ~
Author's Notes: *points an accusatory finger at the ML* See what
happens when you people write me? See? I hope you guys are happy!
^_~ Anyway, I don't know how much longer I can keep this up but
let me tell you, feedback helps! A LOT! So use it!
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html
Also, HUGE hugs to Laurelgand and Quicksilver, both of whom I
grilled for information on the oh-so-lecherous one and his past
with our dear seishi. Thanks for putting up with my incessant
questioning you guys! ^_^ Oh, Laurel also gave me the idea to
have Tokaki flirt with Tama's mum a bit. Thanks again! ^_^
Oh, and again, I'm posting this before Q could beta so all
mistakes, grammar errors, and such are mine, mine, MINE! You
can't have them! Lyra did give it a once-over though just to make
sure I haven't completely disgraced myself. Arigato imouto-chan!
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission
before posting it anywhere else.
The Calling © August 5, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---
The Calling
By Moonsong
tsukinouta@yahoo.com
Part 2: Challenge Accepted
For once, Kishuku was enjoying the walk home. No bullies, no one
waiting to push him into mud puddles, no one making fun of him or
his family; it almost felt like heaven. And it was all due to the
white-haired stranger who strolled leisurely next to him.
"Once the seven seishi are gathered, the miko can summon her god
and save the world," the older man finished, glancing over at the
young boy for his reaction.
His forehead was lined with concentration as he absorbed the
entire legend. "So, all this is to protect some girl?"
"Yes."
"I'm not risking my life for some stupid GIRL! If she's so
special, she should be able to defend herself!"
Lan couldn't help but laugh. The boy was standing in the middle
of the street, hands on his hips, an indignant expression on his
red face.
"You WILL protect the miko and you WILL like it," he admonished,
trying to look stern.
"Iie!" the boy replied playfully, his eyes lighting while he
tried to keep up his indignant pout.
"Kishuku? Is that you?"
The boy's face broke into a smile. "Hai, okaasan!" he called and
bounded into one of the small huts lining the road.
Lan paused a moment, then followed gingerly, taking care to duck
under the low doorframe.
The inside of the dwelling was dim, in contrast to the bright
sunlight outside, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.
Once they did, he almost wished they hadn't. The place was
shabby; the furniture, or what passed for it, was threadbare,
some of it in desperate need of fixing. The walls were patchy, so
thin in some places that sunlight streamed through the dirty
straw.
Still, it was not his place to judge; and Tamahome certainly
seemed happy enough to be home. Smiling, he watched his young
charge disappear into one of the rooms.
"Kaasan! Tousan! I brought a friend!"
"Kishuku! Hush! I just put your little broth-"
The words froze in her throat as they emerged from the room. Her
eyes fell upon the handsome stranger standing in the middle of
their hut.
Laughing, Kishuku let go of her hand and went over to Lan.
"Sensei, this is my-"
"Older sister, I'm sure," Lan interjected smoothly, taking the
woman's hand and brushing it with his lips briefly.
Kishuku's mother colored becomingly and she snatched her hand
from his grasp, avoiding his gaze.
"Who are you?"
"Boku wa Hahm Lan-uan," he answered, straightening. "I have come
to teach your son. He has been chosen as one of the Suzaku
Shichiseishi and-"
"You will NOT do any such thing!" a masculine voice bellowed from
the doorway.
The little boy's face fell. "Otousan..."
His father entered the room, eyes blazing. He did not like this
stranger telling him what to do with his son and he definitely
didn't like the look the other man was giving HIS wife. Crossing
the small room in an instant, he planted himself slightly in
front of his wife, eyeing the interloper icily. "He is not to be
trained."
Lan was appalled. Tamahome... not be trained? The idea was
preposterous... unthinkable! Did these people not realize the
honor bestowed upon them by their very god?
His emotions must have leaked into his expression for Kishuku's
mother started walking towards him, an apologetic smile on her
face. "Hahm-san, you must understand, our family is poor and we
simply cannot afford to have Kishuku trained to become this
warrior you speak of."
Immediately, her husband's glare transferred onto her. She looked
away. Lan noticed as well but chose to ignore it.
"Iie," he began, "you would not have to pay for this training. It
is my duty to teach your son; to prepare him for the time when he
must defend his country and his miko."
"You will do no such thing!" the other man repeated vehemently.
"You will not take our eldest son away from us, to perish in some
holy war. Find your seishi somewhere else!"
By now, Kishuku was close to tears. "Otousan," he pleaded,
"onegai..."
Lan stood his ground. "I cannot do that. Seishi are chosen by
their gods and are marked as such. I do not control who
Suzakuseikun chooses, any more than you can. You must understand,
this is a great honor for your family-"
"Iie!"
That was it. Lan's patience evaporated and he fixed the
confounded man with an icy glare of his own. "Whether you like it
or not, whether you accept it or not, your boy IS a Suzaku Seishi
and he WILL fight when the time comes. If you want to send him
into battle untrained and defenseless, that is your choice but I
do not want the blood of this child on my hands because you
refused to let me train him!"
The other man backed away slightly, surprised by this outburst.
He didn't know what to think. "I-I think you should leave now,
Hahm-san..."
Lan deflated, his anger leaving in a rush. Dammit. He shouldn't
have lost control like this. He shouldn't have...
Sadly, he looked down at Kishuku, the boy's mournful gaze meeting
his. He looked away, unable to meet those dark eyes. He'd failed
the boy. He'd failed Suzaku.
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hahm-san?"
It was Kishuku's mother. By the four gods, he did not want them
to see him like this. Suddenly, leaving sounded like a very good
idea.
"Hai," he said softly. "I will go." He turned towards the
doorway, then paused and looked back. He couldn't leave without
trying at least one more time. He owed Tamahome at least that.
"Please think upon what I have said. This is a grave situation
and I am looking out for your son's best interests."
The father nodded slowly and Lan took himself out of the house.
~*~*~*~*~
"You'd think being a seishi would have taught me to not be so
d*mned ^&*%ing STUPID!"
Lan growled and drove his fist into one of the wooden beams
supporting the roof above his porch. The entire structure shook.
The front door opened and closed. Lan rested his forehead on the
warm wood, shutting his eyes in frustration. Two arms encircled
him from behind, holding him gently.
"Daijoubu," she said, her voice muffled against his back. "You
will try again tomorrow."
The figure moved to his side, keeping a comforting arm around his
waist. Sighing softly, Lan rested his head on hers, allowing
himself to relax.
"Sensei!"
The breathless voice drew him out of his reverie. He shot up and
hurried down the steps and into the street.
"Kishuku, what are you doing out here? How did you find me?"
The boy shrugged. "I followed you."
Lan frowned. "Your father would not be pleased."
"I know," came the defiant reply. "But he doesn't understand. I
WANT to be a seishi. I want to learn."
"Kishuku..."
"Iie!" The boy stamped his feet and stared at the older seishi,
determination setting his mouth in a grim line. "Iie," he
declared quietly. "I want to be called Tamahome."
~ TBC ~
Author's Notes: *points an accusatory finger at the ML* See what
happens when you people write me? See? I hope you guys are happy!
^_~ Anyway, I don't know how much longer I can keep this up but
let me tell you, feedback helps! A LOT! So use it!
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html
Also, HUGE hugs to Laurelgand and Quicksilver, both of whom I
grilled for information on the oh-so-lecherous one and his past
with our dear seishi. Thanks for putting up with my incessant
questioning you guys! ^_^ Oh, Laurel also gave me the idea to
have Tokaki flirt with Tama's mum a bit. Thanks again! ^_^
Oh, and again, I'm posting this before Q could beta so all
mistakes, grammar errors, and such are mine, mine, MINE! You
can't have them! Lyra did give it a once-over though just to make
sure I haven't completely disgraced myself. Arigato imouto-chan!
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission
before posting it anywhere else.
The Calling © August 5, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/