NF2 Okay, now we get to the interesting stuff. A Tomo without makeup is a Tomo without a mask, and a Tomo without a mask makes for angst, angst, and more angst.

Chapter 2

Mitsukake, ever the devoted healer, refused to sleep until Tomo's health was assured. He sat at the side of the wounded Seiryuu seishi, steadily cleaning away the makeup that covered the man's face.

Why does he wear this? the Suzaku seishi wondered. Some kind of trauma, most likely. But what kind? There's no way of knowing until he wakes up.

His gaze skimmed over the pale skin of his patient's face. You couldn't tell with the face paint, he realized, but he's younger than I am. And handsome. What could have scarred him so deeply?

As if in answer, Tomo's eyelids flickered. He moaned low in his throat, twitching restlessly. His face twisted as his lips parted, his eyes blinking slowly as they opened.

-

I'm--alive... How? Wha--Suboshi? Ryuuseisui--through my chest--how did I survive? Nakago-sama?

He opened his eyes and stared straight into the grey-blue gaze of the Suzaku seishi Mitsukake.

Suzaku shichi-- He jerked to the side, then cried out sharply as pain flashed through him, agonizing and bright. Gasping hoarsely, he fell back to the pallet, his chest heaving. Each breath sent tearing fire through his side and chest. Glaring balefully up at the older man, who stared at him in silence, he swallowed, his throat scratchy and dry. Pain tore at him again and he closed his eyes, his lips moving in a breathless curse as helpless, excruciated tears leaked back into his hair.

"I'm not going to hurt you," a deep voice said above him. "Don't move. It will only things worse. Those wounds haven't closed yet."

Tomo opened his eyes again, his teeth clenched around the bitter laugh that coiled within him. He stared searchingly into the Suzaku seishi's eyes. Nothing greeted him but concern and mild rebuke.

He turned his head away, glowering at the far wall and biting back another cry as fresh pain struck at him. I can't do anything. My strength is gone. They can do whatever they want to me, and there's nothing I can do about it. Rage burned in his stomach, throbbing in his heart, screaming indignity at his state.

"I'm sorry," the man next to him said quietly. "I didn't have enough power to heal you completely. I was exhausted, and you were severely wounded. It will be another day, at least."

Tomo refused to answer him. Once you have healed me, fool, he thought viciously, you'll be the first I destroy.

A rag, cold and dripping wet, was placed by strong, sure hands over his forehead. Startled, he looked back--and realized for the first time that his makeup was gone.

Panic spilled through him, quickening his heartbeat as sweat broke out all over his prone body. He clenched his hands, struggling to return his expression to its normal blank impassivity. But he was drained, his last defense wiped clean away, and he could see in Mitsukake's eyes that every second of that brief attack of shock and fear had been clearly seen and recognized.

The older man looked down at him, surprised. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, leaning down. "Does it hurt?"

Cursing himself, Tomo shut his eyes tightly and schooled his face to cool disdain. "I'm fine," he whispered venomously, opening his eyes and fixing them on the healer's face.

Staring at him in complete disregard of the poisonous hatred in Tomo's gaze, Mitsukake straightened the blankets around the Seiryuu seishi's body.

"Try to get some sleep," he said, leaning back. "If you need anything, tell me." He shifted positions slightly, tipping his head to rest against the wall, and shut his eyes. "And don't move around so much. You'll make those wounds worse."

Tomo stared at him, trying to contain his surprise. He's just--going to sleep? With me lying right here?

Sardonic humor sparked in his mind. Why not? I'm helpless right now. Seiryuu...

He snarled up at the ceiling, choking back a moan as pain lanced through him. Lay still, he thought firmly, forcing himself to relax. Lay still! The sooner you heal, the sooner you can get back to--

He broke that thought off before it could start, staring up at the cracked whitewash. Pain muddled his thoughts, and, despite his best efforts to rein them in, they began to wander, bearing him helplessly along with them.

Helpless. Again. I hate that. I hate not being able to act. Not being in control. Left at the whims of another. I try so hard to escape it. But I never can. Can't do anything to escape it.

Blue eyes, bright and sharp. They saw him, and they knew him, instantly and without hope of a mistake.

I love him. I'd do anything for him, and we both know it. He doesn't care. He never will...

He bit his lip, fighting back tears. No, his heart cried. Stop thinking about this! You know where this is headed! But he couldn't stop; the pain overwhelmed him.

No one ever cared. Ever! Always alone. Always being hurt. Always hurt...

The cry of a young boy echoed in his memory, and the harsh sound of fabric tearing.

Stop thinking about it! Stop thinking about it! He twisted his head, trying to shake loose the sounds, but the movement only fired new agony through his body. With a choked whimper, he fell limp again.

Please... Please, stop...

Always needed the makeup to protect you. You're so weak. Weak little fool.

Please...

And now that it's gone, you can't even control your own thoughts. You're pathetic. No one could ever love a person like you.

Stop...

You don't deserve to be loved. The only reason you're still alive is because you're Seiryuu shichiseishi. You shouldn't even be that. Why should you be one of the heroes of legend? You, a frightened little boy who isn't even brave enough to face the world without a mask?

No... Stop it, please!

He couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they streamed out of closed eyes in salty rivers through the strands of his hair and down his neck.

Please...

-

"You're Byakko shichiseishi?" Chiriko asked.

The old woman who walked beside him nodded, smiling. "My shichiseishi name is Subaru, and my husband is Tokaki."

"What is your power, then?" the boy asked curiously, his thirst for knowledge kicking in.

The Byakko seishi considered for a moment, searching for the right words. "I--manipulate time," she said finally, carefully. "That's how we healed Tamahome. I brought his body back to the state it was in the day before he fell from the cliff."

Chiriko absorbed the explanation, looking thoughtful. "So--you could easily heal Tomo-san, couldn't you?"

She looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I could. Do you know why I haven't?"

He responded instantly. "You and the others are still worried that he'll try to fight us if he gets all of his power back."

She nodded as they neared the room where Tomo lay. "Yes. We--"

She stopped as Chiriko halted suddenly, tilting his head. "Do you hear that?" he murmured.

She listened as well, and her aged hearing caught the edges of the sound.

"Someone's--crying," the young Suzaku seishi said, turning to look up at her.

She stared down the hallway. "It's coming from his room," she answered in an equally soft voice.

The two crept down the hall and cautiously peered into the room. Subaru's eyes widened; Chiriko gave a small gasp.

Tomo lay on the bed, his eyes closed, tears staining his face, which was twisted by grief and pain. He was folded into a tight ball, the blankets tangled around him, his body wracked with choked weeping. Coughing whimpers of anguish wrenched forth from his throat. The heavy sounds stabbed into Chiriko's ears and he rushed into the room as Subaru turned to wake Mitsukake.

Kneeling down, he grasped one of the Seiryuu seishi's arms and shook it gently.

"Tomo-san? Tomo-san!"

The older man's eyes flew open, and he stared at the boy in raw, unmasked pain and confusion. Then, he convulsed again, a cry of agony ripped out of his throat. He wrapped his arms around the half-healed wounds in his chest, looking away. "Go away," he whispered harshly. "Go away!"

Mitsukake, now fully awake, was instantly at Tomo's side. "Calm down," he said, his eyes dark and anxious. "Calm down! You're going to kill yourself this way!"

He grabbed one of the Seiryuu seishi's shoulders and pulled it back. "Tomo! Lay down! You have to let me look at those wounds!"

The younger man's breathing was fast and shallow. "It hurts," he moaned, wrenching away and curling up again, desperate tears sliding down his face. "It hurts!"

"I know it hurts, Tomo, but you have to lie still!"

Chiriko had pulled back, his hands rising to his face as he stared at the illusionist. "Tomo-san!" he gasped. "Please, be still!"

But the Seiryuu seishi was beyond hearing.

His hands flying, Mitsukake plucked a small vial of medicine from the floor near him. Leaning over, he firmly pulled Tomo's head back, staring into the man's wild golden eyes.

"Drink this, Tomo," he instructed. "It will help."

Gasping, Tomo opened his mouth. With skillful efficiency, Mitsukake poured it down. Swallowing convulsively, the younger man stiffened. His lips moved for a moment, then he fell limp, his eyes sliding shut. His shuddering breaths continued for a moment, then subsided to a fine shivering.

Mitsukake sighed deeply, his eyes worried. "There's more to this than the physical wounds," he said without preamble as he began to gently straighten Tomo's limbs, untangling the blankets and pushing them slightly aside.

Subaru nodded solemnly. "Something hurt him deeply," she replied in a hushed voice.

"We can't help him unless we find out what happened," the healer said, sponging at the blood spilling over Tomo's pale chest.

Chiriko sat quietly in one corner, his legs hugged to his chest. He'd learned long ago that he thought best if he was silent and patient, letting his Suzaku-given gift do its work in peace. He watched as Mitsukake and Subaru held their soft discussion, the man unrolling a fresh bandage and wrapping it over the wounds.

When he'd finished, the healer glanced up at Chiriko.

The boy nodded silently, tilting his head towards the door. Mitsukake hesitated, then left silently, Subaru trailing behind him.

The Suzaku seishi watched Tomo's face as the Seiryuu seishi slept. The man whispered something. Leaning in close, Chiriko caught the airy breath of the word.

Nakago.

It wasn't the only thing he said in the hours that followed, as evening turned into night.

Yamete.

Hanase.

Onegai.

Kaa-san.

Kaete kudasai.

By the time morning came, Chiriko had pieced together most the events of Tomo's childhood.

-------------------

Translation Guide
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yamete--stop
hanase--let go
onegai--please
kaa-san--mother
kaete kudasai--come back