Fushigi Yuugi, nor none of it's characters belong to me as I'm sure you
know! They are the property of the brilliant Watase Yuu whom we all love.
Any characters I do create are my property, but truthfully i dont really
give a damn.
OHK! This is my first shot at fanfiction so please don't be too hard on me! ^_^; This is going to be a reincarnation fic with lots of angst and death and the whole lot! Also, it's definately going to have much shounen ai, with limish parts in the future! I'm too scared to actually trust myself to writing any lemon, so i think it will be only lime. But that is all in the future! Anyways for now and forever C&C is greatly appretiated and flames used to warm me hands during these long winter months! Ohk,... I'm rambling so iim going to shutup! Enjoy (hopefully)!
Prologue: The Mirror's Edge...
Once more Nuriko stared deeply into the cold, unyielding surface of the mirror. Its silver seemed to reflect not him, but the life he had lived. His lament, and his lonely existence shining mockingly back with a solemn expression.
Sometimes, long ago when he still had hope for this plane of existence, he used to stare into this very mirror, pondering the dimension beyond this barrier of silver and glass. He used to be sure that if he waited, silent and unmoving, the glass would melt into a portal to this other world. There, he would be happy, there would be people he could talk to; he would have real friends, a real life, and would be content. He would sit there, sometimes for hours, waiting, just waiting for the right moment, and when he was sure that the time had come, that he would be freed of this miserable existence, he would stick his hand out tentatively to enter his new life, but then as it always seemed to happen, his hand would hit the frigid glass and he would be thrown once more into a void of tears and screams for rescue from this perpetual isolation he seemed to be trapped in.
Tonight was not one of those nights, he had hours ago cried every last tear and drained every last hope from his tormented mind. There was nothing left for him to hope for. He knew there was no other side to the mirror, there would be no rescue coming for him. Hotohori hated him, Nuriko knew from the disgust written in his eyes whenever his purple haired harem neared him, and the others, they all thought that he was just some perverted freak, even Miaka, the one he had come to think of as some sort of sister, still laughed at his perversions and joined in with the jests of the others. He was alone.
He listened once more as this realization echoed in his mind, and felt his stomach lurch in pain. He was disgusted with himself. The image that stared back at him in the mirror was the epitome of feminine beauty. Long indigo hair flowing over his slight frame, his gentle and delicate features framing a pair of soft, deep chestnut eyes leading into the abyss of his psyche. All this was just a façade, nothing but an illusion, to fool the world and to fool him into believing that Nuriko, Ryuuren, was actually Kourin. But Kourin was long dead, and he could no longer live in delusion. It was time for this to end.
Slowly, he pulled his hair back into a loose braid. With a final thought he looked over at the pair of scissors that lay beside him upon the vanity, there would be no turning back after this… was he sure? Yes. It was time to end his act. Nuriko reached over and picked up the scissors. He stared at them for a moment in hesitation, and then quickly and deliberately cropped off the thick rope of a braid. It fell to the floor with a thump, and the sound brought tears to his eyes. Now there was only one thing left to do to end this game. Abruptly he stood and slammed his fist into the mirror in front of him, smashing its tranquil surface as his own control snapped and the tears began to fall. He fell to his knees among the broken glass. Only one thing left to do. Nuriko reached out and tentatively touched one of the cold shards, and gently lifted it, never taking his eyes off the image staring back at him, that angelic beauty that he so loathed still intact even in his suffering. He closed his and sighed deeply, then moved the razor edge to the soft milky white skin of his wrist, and lightly pressed down. The first drops of crimson dripping onto the wooden floor.
Where the hell was he?! Tasuki had been searching all over the massive palace for the purple haired seishi. He was worried about Nuriko. When Nuriko rushed out of the dining area, he could see something was wrong. The others didn't notice, he was sure of that, but he had seen tears in Nuriko's eyes. Something had snapped in his dear friend's mind.
The day hadn't been different than any other, apart from the lack of attempts on their lives, but this time when Tamahome began his usual barrage of attacks on Nuriko's feminine behavior, instead of punching Tamahome into a nearby wall as was the standard, Nuriko simply stared at the ground meekly. Everyone else just went about their usual business of laughing and going along with the comments that usually bounced off the seemingly thick-skinned seishi, but Tasuki saw the difference in his behavior and was about to pull Nuriko aside to inquire of him the problem, when Nuriko abruptly got up and ran out of the room. And still the rest of the room seemed to remain oblivious.
Tasuki slapped himself in the forehead with annoyance. Of course Nuriko's own room is the last place I think to look. Tasuki thought to himself as he changed to course to head in the direction of Nuriko's personal quarters.
Tasuki began to panic. Something's wrong. He had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He began to run faster, causing the other occupants of the hallways to stare wide eyed at the flame haired man practically flying by. Nuriko! Don't do anything stupid before I get there! Tasuki screamed out with his mind, hoping frantically that Nuriko would hear him. Finally, he found himself in front of Nuriko's room. Quickly he rushed in, practically tearing down the door in the process, and he almost collapsed in anguish when his eyes met the scene laid out before him
Nuriko lay sprawled across that floor in a pool of blood and shards of glass, his chestnut eyes, framed by roughly shortened indigo, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Tasuki stood frozen in the entrance of the room, his body seemingly unable to move despite his mind's pleas for it to do just this. He just stood there and gaped at the sight that lay before him, unable to take his eyes off the horrific vision. Tasuki could feel his heart shattering like the very glass that was his undoing.
Tasuki had not ever told Nuriko, or anyone else for that matter, but he had for a long time had very strong feelings for the beautiful cross dresser. He certainly hadn't expected it, but he had grown progressively fond of Nuriko since their first meeting. At first Tasuki had been quite ashamed of his feelings, of course he had always known that he was 'that way' as people always said, but beside the few times with Kouji, he had never really fulfilled, or let himself comprehend his desires. But after awhile his emotions just became too overwhelming, and he was forced to accept them, for better or worse. He wasn't sure how the others would react, he tried to convince himself that they wouldn't care, but the way they sometimes treated Nuriko made him doubt this. So he would just display his sentiments with a strong protectiveness and desire to always be the finest companion possible for the object of his affections.
Because of this, the sight before him was more than horrible. It was heart wrenching and sickening. But still he could not seem to move.
Suddenly, Nuriko seemed to regain consciousness. His eyes seemed to clear for a brief moment and his head rolled to the side, looking at Tasuki. The flame haired seishi could almost feel the joy bursting from him. Nuriko was still alive!! The icy hand that had held Tasuki too long in place finally melted away and he rushed to Nuriko's side. Tasuki kneeled beside him and picked up his beloved's hand.
"Nuriko! It's going to be ohk! You're going be fine!" Tasuki exclaimed. Nuriko gazed up at him adoringly, his eyes full of unbounded affection.
"Tasuki, I'm sorry… I'm sorry …" he cut off as he began to cough softly, and tightened his grip on Tasuki's hand. In this weakened state, Tasuki distantly noted, Nuriko's grip felt like that of a child.
"It's ohk! I'm not mad, just stay alive… for me… please…" Tasuki began to sob pathetically as he stared down at the slowly fading smile on Nuriko's face. "…don't leave me… please!" he sobbed desperately.
"I'm… sorry…" Nuriko whispered with a last breath as the faint smile faded completely from his rose lips and his hand went limp. His eyes continued to stare up at nothing, a distant look of bemusement written dimly within them.
"Nuriko…Nuriko!" This was not happening! Not now! Tasuki could feel himself snapping as a scream of despair was torn viciously from his throat and echoed throughout the entire palace.
OHK! This is my first shot at fanfiction so please don't be too hard on me! ^_^; This is going to be a reincarnation fic with lots of angst and death and the whole lot! Also, it's definately going to have much shounen ai, with limish parts in the future! I'm too scared to actually trust myself to writing any lemon, so i think it will be only lime. But that is all in the future! Anyways for now and forever C&C is greatly appretiated and flames used to warm me hands during these long winter months! Ohk,... I'm rambling so iim going to shutup! Enjoy (hopefully)!
Prologue: The Mirror's Edge...
Once more Nuriko stared deeply into the cold, unyielding surface of the mirror. Its silver seemed to reflect not him, but the life he had lived. His lament, and his lonely existence shining mockingly back with a solemn expression.
Sometimes, long ago when he still had hope for this plane of existence, he used to stare into this very mirror, pondering the dimension beyond this barrier of silver and glass. He used to be sure that if he waited, silent and unmoving, the glass would melt into a portal to this other world. There, he would be happy, there would be people he could talk to; he would have real friends, a real life, and would be content. He would sit there, sometimes for hours, waiting, just waiting for the right moment, and when he was sure that the time had come, that he would be freed of this miserable existence, he would stick his hand out tentatively to enter his new life, but then as it always seemed to happen, his hand would hit the frigid glass and he would be thrown once more into a void of tears and screams for rescue from this perpetual isolation he seemed to be trapped in.
Tonight was not one of those nights, he had hours ago cried every last tear and drained every last hope from his tormented mind. There was nothing left for him to hope for. He knew there was no other side to the mirror, there would be no rescue coming for him. Hotohori hated him, Nuriko knew from the disgust written in his eyes whenever his purple haired harem neared him, and the others, they all thought that he was just some perverted freak, even Miaka, the one he had come to think of as some sort of sister, still laughed at his perversions and joined in with the jests of the others. He was alone.
He listened once more as this realization echoed in his mind, and felt his stomach lurch in pain. He was disgusted with himself. The image that stared back at him in the mirror was the epitome of feminine beauty. Long indigo hair flowing over his slight frame, his gentle and delicate features framing a pair of soft, deep chestnut eyes leading into the abyss of his psyche. All this was just a façade, nothing but an illusion, to fool the world and to fool him into believing that Nuriko, Ryuuren, was actually Kourin. But Kourin was long dead, and he could no longer live in delusion. It was time for this to end.
Slowly, he pulled his hair back into a loose braid. With a final thought he looked over at the pair of scissors that lay beside him upon the vanity, there would be no turning back after this… was he sure? Yes. It was time to end his act. Nuriko reached over and picked up the scissors. He stared at them for a moment in hesitation, and then quickly and deliberately cropped off the thick rope of a braid. It fell to the floor with a thump, and the sound brought tears to his eyes. Now there was only one thing left to do to end this game. Abruptly he stood and slammed his fist into the mirror in front of him, smashing its tranquil surface as his own control snapped and the tears began to fall. He fell to his knees among the broken glass. Only one thing left to do. Nuriko reached out and tentatively touched one of the cold shards, and gently lifted it, never taking his eyes off the image staring back at him, that angelic beauty that he so loathed still intact even in his suffering. He closed his and sighed deeply, then moved the razor edge to the soft milky white skin of his wrist, and lightly pressed down. The first drops of crimson dripping onto the wooden floor.
Where the hell was he?! Tasuki had been searching all over the massive palace for the purple haired seishi. He was worried about Nuriko. When Nuriko rushed out of the dining area, he could see something was wrong. The others didn't notice, he was sure of that, but he had seen tears in Nuriko's eyes. Something had snapped in his dear friend's mind.
The day hadn't been different than any other, apart from the lack of attempts on their lives, but this time when Tamahome began his usual barrage of attacks on Nuriko's feminine behavior, instead of punching Tamahome into a nearby wall as was the standard, Nuriko simply stared at the ground meekly. Everyone else just went about their usual business of laughing and going along with the comments that usually bounced off the seemingly thick-skinned seishi, but Tasuki saw the difference in his behavior and was about to pull Nuriko aside to inquire of him the problem, when Nuriko abruptly got up and ran out of the room. And still the rest of the room seemed to remain oblivious.
Tasuki slapped himself in the forehead with annoyance. Of course Nuriko's own room is the last place I think to look. Tasuki thought to himself as he changed to course to head in the direction of Nuriko's personal quarters.
Tasuki began to panic. Something's wrong. He had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He began to run faster, causing the other occupants of the hallways to stare wide eyed at the flame haired man practically flying by. Nuriko! Don't do anything stupid before I get there! Tasuki screamed out with his mind, hoping frantically that Nuriko would hear him. Finally, he found himself in front of Nuriko's room. Quickly he rushed in, practically tearing down the door in the process, and he almost collapsed in anguish when his eyes met the scene laid out before him
Nuriko lay sprawled across that floor in a pool of blood and shards of glass, his chestnut eyes, framed by roughly shortened indigo, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Tasuki stood frozen in the entrance of the room, his body seemingly unable to move despite his mind's pleas for it to do just this. He just stood there and gaped at the sight that lay before him, unable to take his eyes off the horrific vision. Tasuki could feel his heart shattering like the very glass that was his undoing.
Tasuki had not ever told Nuriko, or anyone else for that matter, but he had for a long time had very strong feelings for the beautiful cross dresser. He certainly hadn't expected it, but he had grown progressively fond of Nuriko since their first meeting. At first Tasuki had been quite ashamed of his feelings, of course he had always known that he was 'that way' as people always said, but beside the few times with Kouji, he had never really fulfilled, or let himself comprehend his desires. But after awhile his emotions just became too overwhelming, and he was forced to accept them, for better or worse. He wasn't sure how the others would react, he tried to convince himself that they wouldn't care, but the way they sometimes treated Nuriko made him doubt this. So he would just display his sentiments with a strong protectiveness and desire to always be the finest companion possible for the object of his affections.
Because of this, the sight before him was more than horrible. It was heart wrenching and sickening. But still he could not seem to move.
Suddenly, Nuriko seemed to regain consciousness. His eyes seemed to clear for a brief moment and his head rolled to the side, looking at Tasuki. The flame haired seishi could almost feel the joy bursting from him. Nuriko was still alive!! The icy hand that had held Tasuki too long in place finally melted away and he rushed to Nuriko's side. Tasuki kneeled beside him and picked up his beloved's hand.
"Nuriko! It's going to be ohk! You're going be fine!" Tasuki exclaimed. Nuriko gazed up at him adoringly, his eyes full of unbounded affection.
"Tasuki, I'm sorry… I'm sorry …" he cut off as he began to cough softly, and tightened his grip on Tasuki's hand. In this weakened state, Tasuki distantly noted, Nuriko's grip felt like that of a child.
"It's ohk! I'm not mad, just stay alive… for me… please…" Tasuki began to sob pathetically as he stared down at the slowly fading smile on Nuriko's face. "…don't leave me… please!" he sobbed desperately.
"I'm… sorry…" Nuriko whispered with a last breath as the faint smile faded completely from his rose lips and his hand went limp. His eyes continued to stare up at nothing, a distant look of bemusement written dimly within them.
"Nuriko…Nuriko!" This was not happening! Not now! Tasuki could feel himself snapping as a scream of despair was torn viciously from his throat and echoed throughout the entire palace.
