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Only You - 7

~*~*~*~

He knew he was asleep...but the echoes of reality flooded around him, washed over him in a shadow of half-heard murmurs and half-understood insinuations.

"@*$& look at 'em, 'Chiri. How the hell they gonna do us any good gettin' that Shinzaho? Miaka...I mean, @*#$&$, she's..."

"I know, Tasuki. But, what else can we do no da? We can't leave them behind..."

"Perhaps we can."

"Demo, Mitsukake..."

"Miaka is not going to heal quickly from this. If she goes into a battle situation with something like this weighing on her shoulders, she'll find a way to die. That's not a prediction. That's a fact."

"But, @*#$&, Mitsukake, what the hell can we do for 'er? It's not like we can just @!*&$ send her back to Konan or somethin' so Hotohori can take care of 'er..."

"Hm. Why can't we na no da?"

"Hai. Nuriko and Miaka should both return to Konan--both of them will need a long time to recover...and, I think we would all agree that neither of them will be able to help in getting the shinzaho the way they are now."

"Well...yeah...but...@(#*$&, Mitsukake, we can't just send the two of 'em off by themselves the way they are now, either. They'd never @(*$&@$ make it! At least when they're with us, there's somebody to look out for 'em..."

"One of us should go with them then no da."

"Yeah, that's @#(*$& great...but who? I mean, hell, I'd be glad to go...but...@$*&$, 'Chiri, I ain't runnin' out on you, Chiriko, everybody. I came here to find that @(*#$& Shinzaho, and I'm not @*(&#$ leavin' until we do!"

"Maybe no da...it would be best if you went with them, Misukake."

"Hai. I was already planning on it."

"That way...if Miaka gets any sicker no da..."

"Hai."

"@(*$& damn it. Why the (*#&$ did this have to happen? Tama...@(*&$ (@*#&$@ damn it."

"I know, Tasuki no da. I know."

~*~*~*~

He was warm.

It was the first thing he noticed, and thus the first thing that started him on the slow ascent into wakefulness. He was warm.

For a long moment, he lay there in darkness and silence, unmoving, simply breathing...savoring. There was a soft, sweet, honey-like fragrance pervading his senses, joined by the far-off, steaming mint of hot tea, the tangy, buttery fluff of cooking eggs, and the more distant scent of a crackling wood fire--dark, dusky, smoky, but vaguely pine-scented...like home, he found himself thinking. Where was he again? He shifted a bit where he lay, eyes still closed, and tried to concentrate on his other senses, on...touch. Now that he focused, he could feel the warmth of the morning sunlight sweeping its smooth golden rays over his cheeks, his forehead, granting the shadows of his eyelids a warm, reddish hue that made everything feel like sunset. He could feel, also, the silky presence of the bed sheets, clumped at his waist, and the wispy tickle of hair, hanging in thin, silken strands over his skin.

But...there was something else, too. It took him a moment to remember, to know why he was warm where the sunlight hadn't touched yet, to know why that soft honey fragrance seemed so familiar... And then, abruptly, he remembered, and, even as the ache started again in his heart, even as he felt the stirrings of guilt and shame gnawing again at his conscience, Nuriko opened his eyes...and stared out into the world that seemed to keep betraying him.

He was lying on his back in the bed, a flood of blankets tangled around his legs, a soft blue feather pillow resting comfortably beneath his head. And...Miaka was still there, still with him...still asleep. She was lying twisted on her side in the bed, her legs and lower body hidden beneath a mass of blankets. The rest of her, however... She was clinging to him, her small arms wrapped around him, tucked up behind his shoulders, and her head was resting comfortably on his chest, the soft auburn of her hair whispering lightly against the bottom of his chin.

He could feel her heart beating as he lay there, could actually feel her breathing against him...feel her breathing in his arms. It was a sensation unlike any he'd ever experienced before, and he realized with a dark, tearing suddenness that he didn't want to leave this moment, didn't want to take so much as a step outside of this cautious circle of safety and touch and drowsy warmth.

But...

He sighed, lifted one hand from where it had rested, protectively, over Miaka's back...and touched lightly at the top of her head. "Ne, Miaka..." His heart ached. His fingers, meanwhile, stroked gently at her hair, even as his voice--trembling only slightly--rose softly into her ears, that same gentle, lilting alto he knew she probably more closely associated with the female side of him. But...it was all right.

"Ne, Miaka..." The false cheer hurt more than anything...but, how was Miaka going to heal when everyone around her was treating her like she should be upset? How was she going to heal if someone didn't make it seem like things were how they'd always been...?

"Time to get up, ne, Miaka?" The girl stirred a bit at the sound of his voice, squeezed her eyes shut and yawned. He frowned, poked her not-so-gently on the top of the head. "Miaaaaaaaaaaaaka. Time to get up."

She shifted again, and, slowly, those dark eyelashes parted, made way for the soft, mottled green below. Miaka blinked, lifted her head from his chest and stared up at him. "N...Nuriko?" She looked vaguely surprised. He wondered, briefly, how much of the day before she remembered...if she remembered why his arms and shoulders were red, scratched...if she remembered what she'd said.

Not seeming yet to be quite fully awake, Miaka let out a heavy sigh, lay back down on him and closed her eyes. "I had...a bad dream," she murmured. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his flesh as she spoke, could still feel the rise and fall of her breathing melding into his own. "I...I dreamed that you went...you went to get the shinzaho...and that monster...he..." She broke off, squeezed her eyes shut more tightly. "I want to go home," she whispered.

What could he do? He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, held her close. "I know," he murmured. "I know..." Abruptly, a memory struck into him, and he sat up a little straighter, drew in a sharp breath. "We're...going back to Konan," he said. "With Mitsukake."

Miaka only nodded, not seeming to have heard or understood at all. Her eyes were still closed, her arms wrapped around him so tightly that it was almost hard to breathe. Was she afraid...of letting go?

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[AN: More to come. Until then, let me know what you think! ^_~. ~Ryuen]