DISCLAIMER: Do not try any of these things mentioned in this fic below. If you decide to get yourself electrocuted to see if you survive it, and if you do you say that proves you're a seishi, then the authoress will surely laugh uncontrollably right in your face. Oh, and by the way: she doesn't own this.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, here it is... my try at writing romance. ~shrugs~ I don't think it's a bad story, but... eh, I'm not a romance writer, and it kinda shows.
When I put out Mattaki Sekai, one of my reviewers (Stormlight, thank you so much! ~_~) said I should try my hand at writing a Nuriko/Miaka romance. To tell the truth I'd been thinking of doing it for awhile, even knew what scene I wanted to rewrite. But it kept getting lost in the shuffle of other things I was working on or just HAD to write, and it got pushed back a lot.
I'm actually glad it got delayed, I had a chance to work on my Nuriko characterization with Mattaki. And then I jumped into this...
Well, please be honest and tell me what you think of this. Thank you!
(PS-- Is it just me, or do I seem to have a thing for the word "perfect" in my titles?)
They were in bad shape.
First off, all three of them had managed to get swept off the ship and end up on that miserable little hunk of rock of an island, which fortunately had a cave. Unfortunately, the cave also looked like it could fall apart at any minute, but it was the best shelter they had. The storm raging outside drove the rain into their eyes, blinding them and making them susceptible to falling in the churning water again - a thing Tama had already proved was not the wisest of decisions. The poor boy was stretched out on the ground near the wall, unconscious from the lightening strike but at least alive. Nuriko and Miaka were trying to get a fire going. Well, Nuriko was, Miaka finally gave up trying to help and sat leaning against another wall, watching the seishi perform the old rub-two-sticks-together trick interestedly and trying to put away the knowledge for future use.
"I think this is a fisherman's cave," Nuriko commented as he finally got the pile of dry tinder to emit a small flame. "We should be safe here until Chichiri finds us." Their only hope for rescue lay in the blue-haired monk, who could trace their ki back to its point of origin, essentially, themselves. If it worked, then soon the royal ship would sail into view. But Nuriko, as least, was fairly sure that this storm was nothing common. How else could it have produced lightening right in Tamahome's area just before he was able to get out of the water? But no use worrying about it, if worst came to worst they could wait out the rest of it on top of the cave, it looked fairly easy to climb.
Nuriko kept rolling the stick quickly between his hands, getting up enough friction to produce more and more sparks, eventually setting the small fire ablaze. What he wouldn't give for Tasuki's tessen at a time like this… ahh, but no use dwelling on that, he didn't have it, did he? He gently blew on the flames, wafting them to the other logs, grinning with joy when the fire was snapping and crackling merrily and couldn't possibly go out. Now to do something about those clothes… His clothing was sticking heavily to his small frame, pressing down until he thought he weighed twice as much as usual. His hair was also sopping, but he just needed to squeeze out the rope-like braid hanging over his shoulder to take care of that. The clothes, though, needed special attention… and most likely so did Tamahome's and Miaka's.
He looked at Miaka directly, a "no arguments" look he'd learned in the harem. "All right, out of those clothes."
She gaped at him. "WHAT?!"
"You heard me. I said take 'em off." He stood up and began to advance on her, ready to forcefully remove them if she refused to cooperate.
Of course she refused. "NO!"
"This is no time to be modest, you'll get incredibly sick if you wear those things! Now take them off!"
"No way!"
"Gahh!" He pounced on her, holding her down alternatively with his left and right hands while he used his free one to pry the brown fabric off her body. She tried to fight, of course, but she could never match him in strength. He tossed the clothes over his head in the direction of the fire, not really caring if they landed in it, that would serve her right for not listening to reason…
He finally let her go and scooted back over to the fire. "Molester! Freak! Pervert!" she shrieked, scrambling to cover herself with her arms at the same time.
"Yeah yeah." He didn't know what she was so upset about; he, not to mention several others, had already seen her in what she still had left on, or less. Nuriko spread the clothing out over the rocks ringing the fire, privately amazed that seemingly so little fabric on Miaka turned out to be so many different garments. He left enough room for his and Tamahome's tunics, and quickly pulled his own shirt over his head, squeezing it out over a dip in the floor and shaking it out, ridding it of half the water that had decided to take up residence there.
He heard a slight gasp behind him, and the sound of rocks being knocked aside in a hurry. He glanced in Miaka's direction and saw her sitting with her back to him, arms still wrapped tightly around herself. He knew she was as red as the sun. A wicked idea popped into his head, but at the moment he had to take care of Tamahome. He made his way over the pebble-strewn ground to the younger seishi, checking his pulse (at the right tempo) and his breathing (normal). He seemed to be okay, which Nuriko knew was due to the fact that he was a seishi - the lightening would have killed anyone else. He had no idea how long the boy would sleep, but he also needed to be out of the wet clothing. Nuriko couldn't very well strip the pants off him - an act which would go beyond all sense of decency, not to mention he couldn't bring himself to do it - but the shirt could definitely come off. He quickly freed Tama's arms of the clinging red and white sleeves, supporting him behind his shoulders and pulling the fabric over his head before setting him down gently on the rock floor and wringing out the water. His shirt joined Nuriko's by the fire, hopefully to dry enough so they could be fully dressed again.
Something nudged Nuriko at the back of his mind, but he couldn't tell what it was. He shook his head slightly to chase it away, then looked at Miaka again, the wicked idea bubbling to the top. He grinned. This was going to be fun. He scooted over to her, laughing silently at the violent blush and pushing away another little mind-nudge. He stopped just behind her and made himself put on a serious expression. "What's up Miaka? Thinking about me?"
The girl didn't look at him, didn't respond in anyway except for her blush to deepen. This was even better than he thought it'd be.
"Now that I know I have no chance with His Highness, maybe now…" He gently touched her chin, turning her head to face him, watching her seriously but laughing inside. He hoped he could still remember how to do it… ahh, yes he could. His pitch dropped to an unmistakably male tone, spiraling down a good two octaves or more from the androgynous voice he'd used for the last few years. "... I should go back to being a boy and try chasing girls, instead."
Miaka could only watch him, looking frightened and confused, green eyes wide.
That was when his mind exploded.
W-W-What was he doing?
He was right there in front of her, talking different, acting different, even looking different. He looked… she didn't know how to describe it. He looked thoroughly, unmistakably, entirely male. She'd known he was male, known for longer than anyone else, but somehow he'd never seemed that way… he'd always just been "Nuriko," and there was no gender… if anything, he was female to her. But now…
And he was her best friend. She could admit, now, that even if she got Yui back from Nakago and Seiryu, it would be a long, difficult process to return their friendship to what it once had been, if it ever could go back. And Nuriko had been there, through everything, watching out for her, protecting her, laughing and crying with her, until he was almost an older sibling. But now…
Now he was next to her, so wholly and unquestionably not an older sibling, or a woman, and all she could think was… why hadn't she seen this before. The look he was giving her was slightly frightening, and she was confused; confused because he shouldn't be doing this, yet he was, just like she shouldn't be thinking these thoughts, yet she was…
She scrambled for something to weigh her down to reality, and remembered the boy still unconscious in the corner. Yes, that was it. She loved him. That was right. He'd asked her to marry him, and when this was all over she would. She couldn't now because of Taiitsu-kun's orders. Yeah! Nothing could happen now because she was forbidden from touching even Tamahome! That was right. So nothing… could happen… but… why did Nuriko look so… so much more… everything than Tamahome at the moment?
What was going on with him?!
Where had it come from?!
Why couldn't he stop it?!
He was being swept through a jumble of emotions, colors, sights, sounds… seeing her, saving her, those eyes looking at him with easy friendship, every one of the little nothing moments they had spent together, growing closer and closer, to be almost as siblings, but he… he hadn't known it, but now he was sure…
He had fallen in love with her.
And there was nothing he could do to pretend otherwise. Might as well ask the sun not to rise, or the birds not to fly. He, the shichiseishi Nuriko, had become another victim of her easy ways and happy laugh, binding him to her as strongly, perhaps even more so, than he had been bound to Hotohori. Yes, Hotohori. He loved Hotohori… didn't he? He thought he did. Or, he thought he had. Perhaps he never really had… but he had, because he'd felt the same emotions when he looked at the emperor that he felt now, looking into Miaka's confused expression in this suspended moment in time. But he knew, knew long ago it would never come to fruit, and he had given it up, content to let Hotohori be happy and himself swoon from afar… and apparently the sleeping side of him had awoken, bringing his thoughts more and more to Miaka. He hadn't felt it, hadn't known it, but now he was certain…
No! He couldn't! She loved someone else, there was no changing that. However much pain Tamahome caused her, she loved him, HIM! No one else. Not even the seishi in front of her now. They were best friends, she was almost his little sister, but she didn't love him. She loved Tama. He couldn't, wouldn't betray his "little brother," the one he'd had to protect almost as much as Miaka. Suzaku, they were both so dense! But they were made for each other, and he couldn't get in the way… But he loved her…
His body made up his mind for him.
Suddenly he found his lips pressed against hers, softly but insistently, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek gently. Her loose, damp hair brushed against his own face, her skin was soft beneath his fingers, and it was… perfect. He hadn't known love could feel like this, wonderful and heart breaking all at once, the strongest emotions he'd felt in years. His numbed heart had thawed, and she had been the one to do that, the girl he was kissing, the girl he loved, the one he couldn't give up even if it cost him his life…
He pushed himself away, almost angrily separating them, but it was anger at himself, not at her, no, never at her. He'd done it. He'd betrayed his friends. And with Tama right in plain sight, even if he was unconscious. He couldn't forgive himself for that. "Sorry… I'm sorry," he murmured, turning himself away from her, busying himself straightening the already wrinkle-free clothes drying by the fire, watching the ground in front of him, frightened to look up and see the hate on her face.
He was… He was… He was kissing her…
He was doing something only Tamahome and Hotohori had done, and even the emperor had only done it twice. Her heart belonged to Tamahome, everyone knew it, especially Nuriko, who had helped the two of them come together in the first place. But here he was… kissing her… caressing her cheek softly with his small, delicate hands, so different from Tamahome's… and the worst part was… was that she was glad.
Yes, she admitted to herself, she was glad Nuriko was kissing her… she had no idea why, but she was. Her skin tingled beneath his touch, her lips felt electric with his on them. Part of her mind screamed at her, saying she was a fool, the little idiot Tamahome jokingly called her when she did something exceptionally stupid. It screamed she loved Tamahome, she was going to marry him, they would grow up together and be happy and raise a family… but here she was, feeling another man's touch, and she wasn't horrified as when Hotohori had kissed her, but glad…
And suddenly his warmth was gone, his lips almost ripped from hers. She barely saw a glimpse of a torturous, longing expression on his face before he turned himself away violently, facing the fire and the clothes near it. "Sorry… I'm sorry," he murmured, so low she could barely hear it. He began fiddling with the clothing, fussing over it in an obvious attempt at taking his mind off what had just happened, not looking in her direction.
Miaka slowly went limp, almost falling back against the rock wall, unable to support both herself and the weight of the revelations that had just come to the surface. She was only fifteen… in her own world she still had trouble convincing her mother to let her go certain places by herself, but here she was considered an adult, of an age to be married. But she hadn't been raised like that, she was a child of the twentieth century, and she didn't know of anyone her age who was willing to commit to a life-long relationship that young. Some of her friends had boyfriends-of-the-week. Was this telling her she shouldn't be so ready to commit to Tamahome before she had seen all there was to see, experienced more of the world around her?
She watched the violet-haired seishi silently, wondering why he'd done that, yet knowing the answer. And as much as it tore her inside to realize that maybe she wasn't ready to be with Tamahome, even after all they'd been through, she knew that right in front of her was a man who cared about her deeply and would be willing to give her space if she asked it of him. She… she loved him, maybe not as completely yet as he did her, but it had definitely grown.
She glanced at Tamahome's still form. He looked to be sleeping peacefully, his body recovering from the lightening attack. She couldn't help but smile gently at his quiet face. He would always hold a special place in her heart. He was the one who had introduced her to love in the first place, had given her the first kiss she'd ever had, risked his life for her time and time again. But now she needed… needed space to make her own choices, to determine if he truly was the one she was destined to be with.
Nuriko was still fussing with the clothes, running his hands over his tunic to smooth out non-existent wrinkles. He hadn't looked at her once in all the time she'd been thinking. Hadn't even looked up from the ground. He was nervous, afraid of what she might say or do. She could understand that, and the thought warmed her heart to him even more. "Nuriko…"
He jumped slightly, his gaze involuntarily swinging to her, then blushing furiously and dropping to the floor. "H-Hai?"
"Nuriko… you don't have to be scared." She slowly made her way over to where he knelt, sitting next to him, smiling slightly. "I'm not angry."
"Y-You're not?"
"No," she said softly.
His hands tangled together in front of him and he stared at them, twisting them nervously as the worlds tumbled out of his mouth like a waterfall. "M-Miaka, I'm sorry, it was a stupid thing to do and you can hate me if you want, you can hit me and detest me if you want, I shouldn't have done it, you love Tama-chan, and I know that and I want you to be happy and-" He was cut off by Miaka's hand in his.
"Nuriko…"
He had to be the stupidest person in all four empires. Nuriko no Baka, that's what all the history books would call him. He had known, KNOWN that she was in love with Tama, that she would never give that up, she wouldn't want to. And he had vowed to himself not to come between them, to not disturb her happiness, and he had done it, all because he couldn't control his feelings. Yes, he was Nuriko no Baka. Any moment now she'd yell, or hit him, or burst out crying. He didn't see what he was doing, his hands just kept running themselves over his shirt as his mind panicked.
But… but she wasn't… angry… how could she not be? He wouldn't argue, it gave him a chance to make his apology and clear his conscious, but she didn't seem to want that either. Then her hand was in his and it felt so wonderful, as if it was perfectly sculpted to rest there, but he quickly shoved the thought from his mind. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, he wasn't worthy enough to do so, even with the pleading note in her voice.
"Miaka, I'm sorry." He sighed and closed his eyes, waiting for the blow.
It never came. Instead two arms, even more slender than his own, wrapped themselves around his chest and a head of soft hair rested against him. His eyes flew open in surprise, and there was Miaka, leaning against him, a contented look on her face. "Thank you, Nuriko."
He blinked in surprise. "F-For what?"
"For… helping me see reason." She tilted her head to smile up at him. "Did you know Tamahome asked me to marry him?"
"He what?!"
"Shh, you'll wake him up. But he did. He asked me to be his bride when all this is over."
Nuriko felt a terrible wrenching in the pit of his stomach. He knew without a doubt what her answer had been. And it made his crime ten times worse. "Oh gods… Miaka… I'm so sorry."
"I didn't say yes to him," she said quickly, throwing him for yet another loop. What was with her and surprises today?
"You didn't? Why not? You love each other so much…"
He felt her wince minutely. The feeling made him want to wrap his arms around her and comfort her, but he held himself back. No use making things worse than he already had. "After the ceremony, when Taiitsu-kun wanted to talk to me alone, she told me I couldn't touch any man with love, otherwise I wouldn't be able to call Suzaku." She tightened her hold around him when he tried to pull away, refusing to let him go. "The miko must be pure. She told me I had to give up my relationship with him, or we might go too far." She looked down again. The pain of the incident was still in her heart. "He didn't know it, and that night he asked me. I told him no without him knowing why, and it hurt us both. Later, at the festival, I told him and we made up."
"Was that when you disappeared from me and Tasuki?"
She nodded against him. "Mm-hmm. So he agreed to wait for us to be married. But… This is kind of hard to explain. Just now, when you… I wasn't thinking about him. Only you."
"W-What?" He knew there was no way one kiss could change her mind that radically, that quickly.
She continued as if he hadn't said anything. "Nuriko, I'm only fifteen. In my world, I'd still be considered a child by many people. Definitely not an adult. I was raised so much differently than all of you. I don't know anyone my age who knows for sure who they want to spend the rest of their life with. I know there are exceptions, but… maybe I'm not one of them. Maybe Tamahome and I aren't meant to be together forever, maybe we are. But your… your kiss showed me there's a whole world - or two-" she smiled slightly at the irony "- out there for me to see."
"Then… Then you're… not angry I did that?"
"Not at all. I'm very glad, in fact." She smiled. "But there is something you could do to make up for startling me like that."
"Anything." Anything to get back in her good graces. He'd break his own neck if she asked him to.
She grinned outright. "You could do it again."
His jaw dropped. "W-W-W-W-What?!"
"You heard me. What is it with you today, you're not usually this shy!"
"A-Are you sure?"
"Why would I ask if I wasn't?"
He hesitantly brought his arms up to wrap around her waist, his skin warming where it touched hers. This wasn't right, neither of them were wearing enough clothing, especially not her, but it felt so right just to touch her… and nothing else would happen anyway, she had her duty to Suzaku to fulfill, and much as he hated to think about it, Tamahome was still there, still unconscious. Boy, would he get a piece of his mind when he woke up, being a stupid hero had cost him so much more than he knew… He felt Miaka's arms shift and entwine themselves around his neck, and it felt even better to have them there, have her looking at him lovingly, as he thought no one would ever look at him… "As you wish, Suzaku no Miko."
And he bent to her and she rose to him and again their lips met. He tightened his hold on her, drawing her closer to him, and so did she, as if she didn't want to let him go, and she knew she didn't. He knew he didn't either. And it was perfect.
AUTHOR'S NOTES II: ~fidget. wince. shuffle~ So how bad was it? Please let me know!
