Author's Notes: I've changed the cave scene a little because, well, I've only seen the episode itself once before, and that was a while ago, so I'm not particularly proficient in the dialogue spoken there. The idea of this story was inspired by an absolutely gorgeous piece of artwork by Shawnna Bass where child Nuriko and little sister Kourin are painting a kite. It's an adorable image, and, wow, can she draw. ^_^ Check out her artwork here.
Warnings: Mentions of death, angst. Spoilers for Nuriko's past. Also, written in "stream of conscious" format.
Archive: Just ask.
Obligatory Disclaimer: I own no part of Fushigi Yuugi or the characters Tamahome, Miaka, Kourin, Rokou, or Nuriko.
Subconscious Sin
sometimes i wonder if i'll ever be able to escape this place and get away that's all i've ever wanted is to get away but i'm not sure i can anymore i'm just here glancing backwards at the faces of my past trapped in the echoes of children's faces long gone she doesn't laugh anymore so i don't anymore either i just listen to the sounds of my breathing and pray for the strength to live another day under the shadow of her memory
"I used to think that way, you know."
Nuriko glanced sideways at Miaka as all eyes turned to him. Should he tell them the truth, or should he spare her the taint of his past sin? The memory of her had not yet faded, and already the painful throb of remembrance reverberated throughout his being in sync with the beat of his heart.
He shivered slightly but not is response to the cool atmosphere surrounding them.
He bit his lip, fighting the tears that suddenly welled inside his violet eyes. Tightly, he shut them, not allowing the liquid lamentation to fall over his cheeks. Oh, but Suzaku, the memory was so strong…
Who could possibly purify him of this transgression?
"Nuriko?"
That was Miaka calling him, gazing at him with the now familiar sense of worry and care in her sweet hazel eyes. His sworn priestess, the one Suzaku had ordained to summon His power.
And another innocent girl whose life lay in his hands. Could Miaka help to cleanse him of the memory?
Nuriko found his tongue, turning to Miaka without opening his tightly closed eyes as he remembered, and began to speak, "We were both very young…"
i remember being young and free i remember green pastures and busy streets and sunny days that lasted for eternity there are still sensations like the silk of my parents' trade and the warmth of my siblings and the bright sights of the city sounds of people talking and bartering and arguing the price dogs barked and children played and then there was her laughter
"Ryuuen!"
The plum-haired boy paused at the sound of his name, turning in annoyance to face the speaker. He sighed softly with exasperation upon recognition. "What is it Kourin?"
Soft purple eyes that reflected his own regarded him with slight hesitation before their owner spoke. "Where are you going?"
Inwardly, Ryuuen groaned. Ever since the little girl had taken her first steps it seemed as though she had taken it upon herself to become loyal follower and, ultimately, complete irritation to her older brothers. For a time, the outdoors had been an escape for Ryuuen, but once Kourin entered the years of childhood independence, even the streets of their home town was no longer a haven.
It would not have been as irritating if Rokou received as much attention as he did—the other boy actually enjoyed being followed around by their persistent younger sister—but Rokou evidently did not fascinate the little girl as Ryuuen did.
It was not too hard to understand why Kourin adored him over the other boy. After all, older brother Rokou was sweet and patient and a wonderful companion who listened to everything she said, but he was not Ryuuen. Ryuuen was tough; Ryuuen was strong. Ryuuen could lift items several times his own weight with ease and even scare away the mean boys that intimidated poor Rokou.
Ryuuen was a Suzaku warrior.
And this captivated Kourin to no end. There were also their shockingly similar physical features. While all three of the children sported their mother's violet hair, it was Kourin and Ryuuen who had borrowed the most from her, the latter possessing characteristics that were strangely delicate, almost uniquely feminine. In fact, the two children looked so alike they were often mistaken for twins. It was similarity that had created a fast bond between the two, making them nearly inseparable.
But that did not mean she had to follow him everywhere!
Ryuuen frowned at her, attempting to dissuade her from coming. Kourin stuck her lower lip out, pouting and putting on her best lost puppy look. It wasn't going to work, though. He had dealt with that one plenty of times before, enough to keep its full impact from affecting him.
"I'm not going anywhere you care about. Go back home. Mom's probably looking for you anyway."
The pout deepened. "Momma doesn't want me around, I wanna go with you Ryu!"
The boy winced at her nickname for him. It was so…childish. And it was definitely not at all fitting for the young but upcoming son of one the town's foremost and successful cloth merchants. It was bad enough he looked like a girl; now why did she have to go and give him an androgynous nickname?
"No," he said firmly once more, "I'm going to play with the other boys. Are you a boy?" He vehemently stabbed one finger at her dress. "I don't think that's a boy's outfit."
"Well you don't look like a boy," she retorted babyishly.
He glared at her. "You're not a boy," he repeated.
Sticking her tongue out at him, Kourin returned to her pout. "I still wanna go. Who cares if I'm a girl?"
"They'll care! And besides, you don't have to follow me around all the time. Why don't you go play with the other girls?"
"The others girls are boooooooring."
"Then what about Rokou?"
"He's boring too."
"That's not my problem."
"If you don't take me with you, I'll tell Momma you won't let me play with you."
Ryuuen paused now, licking his lips nervously as he tried to find an answer to his sister's words. The girl was more intelligent than she looked, and far less innocent. And she had this simply ireful habit of being able to get almost everything she wanted from him…
He sighed. Loudly.
Kourin grinned. Victoriously.
"Fine! Come with us for all I care! But if the other boys start to tease you, don't blame me!" He folded his arms and gave her a glare that had no real malice behind it. Forbid it that he, Chou Ryuuen, ever admit that some secret part of him had actually allowed her to come along purely out of affection…
"Yay! Aniki, you're so great!" She launched herself at poor Ryuuen with enough force to send even his strong frame backwards, flipping him onto the ground. Jumping off of him, Kourin ran ahead giggling and laughing. Ryuuen simply groaned and pulled himself out of the soft grass, pushing himself to his feet and starting off while wondering what part of him had grown soft enough to give into her demands.
"And remember Ryu, you promised to make a kite with me later!"
"ARGH!"
there are flashes of color and light spiraling around me i see her everywhere around me can smell the sweet fragrance of her hair and remember perfectly the sight of her violet eyes i remember the paints and the kites Kourin loved kites and always wanted to make them with me never Rokou i don't know why she wasn't as close to him as she was to me there was a bond but never like ours i miss that bond i miss the kites
"And put the yellow flowers here!"
"Here too?! Aren't the colors girly enough?"
"They are not," Kourin protested, reaching up with one paint covered finger to add the finishing touches to one flower even as she spoke. Ryuuen was the one actually holding the kite (apparently, the one thing Kourin thought boys and girls should be separated in was when it came to doing "man" work), so when Kourin dipped her finger in the paint once more and tried to begin painting another section of the kite, he pulled away from her.
"I want to paint too," he said in complaint, "and I don't want no girly colors either." He reached over for another set of paints sitting nearby and chose red. "Here," he exclaimed, "we'll use red for…for Suzaku! Yeah! I'll draw phoenix!"
Kourin crossed her arms, forgetting the paint still on her fingers and accidentally staining the fabric of the opposite sleeve. She paid it no heed, though, as their parents had been well-prepared for the mess that came with their kite designing—they were dressed down in old, unused clothing. Ignoring the now wet sleeve, she began to argue. "I don't wanna draw Suzaku! You'll ruin the whole design! I want to finish with the flowers."
Mirroring his sister's actions perfectly, Ryuuen crossed his arm and glared back steadily. "Well I'm sick of flowers! I want to use red! Besides," he intoned slyly, "I don't think Suzaku would be too happy to hear that you think he'd ruin the kite."
Realizing her mistake, Kourin gasped and suddenly bent forward, her hands folded in prayer, most likely in apology. Ryuuen simply rolled his eyes; sometimes Kourin took things a little too seriously.
"Silly, I was joking! You really think Suzaku's gonna get angry at you for that?"
Perfectly serious, Kourin responded, "You don't know what Suzaku would think."
Another series of eye rolling. "Yeah, well, I can tell you that as one of His warriors, I don't think He's going to hurt any sister of mine!"
"You mean it?"
"Mean it? 'Course I do."
Kourin beamed as Ryuuen shook his head. Girls…
"…But I still wanna paint flowers."
The boy face vaulted for a moment, shocked at her ability to swing from one mood to another in such little time, before sighing in defeat, no longer in the mood to argue with her. (Of course, he would have lost anyhow. His mother always sided with Kourin.) "Fine, but I want to use a different color." Kourin's mouth started to move in objection, but he cut her off. "How about we compromise?"
"Corpromise?"
"Compromise," he corrected.
"What's it mean," she asked suspiciously, as any normal child would do at the sound of an unfamiliar word. Sometimes Aniki seemed to be growing up too fast for her tastes…
"It means that we both give up and choose something else."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, now dump out your yellow."
Giving in to her older brother's logic, she wiped the yellow paint from her hands, dumping the extra remnants into the grass. That was the easy part. Now came the compromising part. With dismay, Ryuuen turned to their left over paints only to find blue the only color left in addition to the red he was holding. For a moment he regretted telling Kourin to dump out her own yellow. At least then they would have had other options…
Two colors left. Red and blue.
As if reading her brother's mind, Kourin turned to face her elder sibling with question in her curious eyes. Ryuuen caught her gaze and held it there. Strong indigo to soft violet. Dark and beautiful like the night sky in which his constellation burned strong every night.
Blue paint like the deep of night and red like the light of Suzaku. A combination of divinity and promise.
Ryuuen smiled. "Kourin, I think I know what color we can use…"
red and blue make purple that i remember i'll never forget the colors because the colors were always so pretty in the world we shared there was green grass and blue skies black nights and white stars yellow suns and so many others i can't remember but violet is a color i'll never forget because it's a color ingrained into my mind my soul and being red is another color like violet to me but unlike violet i wish i could forget red it was the same color of her blood pouring like wine without stop onto the streets of our home town of all the colors i remember from my youth i need to forget red
Ryuuen left the house quietly as to not alert his sister to his leave. Father had finally finished the bridal gown for a young woman who was getting married in a few days, and he wanted Ryuuen to alert the family of the finished garment. He had sent Ryuuen alone because the streets had been awfully busy today, and Father didn't trust Kourin on the streets where she could be lost among the swarms of people.
It was strange not having Kourin by his side while he made an errand. The girl was usually skipping alongside him, speaking and giggling about every sort of thing, usually whatever gossip she had heard from the other girls, particularly news of which girls had crushes on him. (Ryuuen blushed at this thought.) While it was annoying at times, it was still nice to have someone accompany him on the long treks from home.
On the slip side, Ryuuen did have some private time to himself now. Enough time, in fact, that he may be able to buy Rokou's birthday present while he was out without having Kourin around to witness the event and blab about to Rokou afterwards. His elder brother's birthday was coming soon, and Ryuuen wanted to surprise Rokou this year with something he never expected. Therefore, he didn't think too much of his sister's absence.
He was halfway to the woman's house when he heard her voice.
"Ryuuen, wait up!"
The said boy groaned in irritation. And he thought he could get away…Not bothering to look back, Ryuuen sped up, hoping to outrun his sister far enough away that she would eventually lose track of him and go back home. (Which reminded him to make a mental note to find out how she had gotten away in the first place.)
"Ryuuen!"
He smiled grimly. Only a little farther until he hit the corner, and then he would lose her. The crowd was thicker there…
The sound of horses galloping and the screams of bystanders reached his ears long before he was cognizant of what was going on. He could only see the corner, see his freedom from Kourin…
"Ryuuen!"
He stopped short at her cry, no longer whining but panicked and frightened. Ryuuen whirled around just as the horses bore down on Kourin, her small body disappearing under their strong hooves as people around them began screaming and shouting. At that moment the earth seemed to drop from beneath Ryuuen, shattering to pieces at his feet. Time stood still and the sounds of everyone around him seemed to fade out…
"I can tell you that as one of His warriors, I don't think He's going to hurt any sister of mine!"
Suzaku…why?
Suddenly he was running and sobbing, tearing through the crowds to where she lay…where her body lay. Her corpse. He choked on the word.
Dead. Kourin was dead.
My fault.
It was his fault. He could have waited for her, could have let her come along instead of sneaking off. What had been so important about Rokou's birthday present anyway? His older brother usually had forgotten by the time the day came around anyway. Oh Suzaku, he would give anything to have just stopped before he had reached the corner…
He choked again, feeling sick. "Kourin?" he whispered softly, "Kourin!"
His sobs echoed throughout the entirety of the marketplace, through the heavens, and now into eternity.
i had never given much thought to how much i looked like my sister i had always hated looking like a girl when i was little it seemed so important to me as a warrior of Suzaku to look manlier tougher like my powers indicated but after she died it didn't matter anymore it was almost as if the features that i had hated suddenly became more prominent the others had been right we were twins i could be her i could be Kourin i could bring her back
How long had it been since Kourin had used this room? Ryuuen ran his hands over everything in the area, the bed sheets, her clothing, the desk, anything that could resurrect the memory of her. He inhaled deeply, trying to find any of the old scent of flowers that had seemed Kourin seemed to carry with her.
Gone. She was gone. There was nothing left. Gone, dead, and someday, forgotten.
He could not forget her.
His fault…his fault she had died. It had been his job as her brother, as a warrior of Suzaku, to protect her. She had been his responsibility and he had failed her. And now he was paying the price for his failure.
Hands roamed the expanse of the desk, coming to settle on one partially opened drawer. Kourin always had forgotten to close her drawers. Fighting the tears that smarted his eyes at such fond reminiscence, he carefully opened the drawers to find himself staring at one of her dresses. Her pink one. Her favorite.
He could not forget her.
Ryuuen removed the dress from its position where it was neatly folded in the drawer, went to the mirror, and held it up against his slim frame. Freeing his hair from its confines, he let it fall around his shoulders, its natural wave causing it to curl and settle beautifully around his face and upper body. Just like everyone had said. They were twins. The same.
He could not forget her.
Trembling, Ryuuen slipped out of his own clothes and pulled on the dress. Then he went to his sister's desk and found a few of her old bracelets and makeup. Quivering fingers slipped on the sparkling jewelry and painted his face, adding blush to his cheeks and liner to his lips. He stepped back to the mirror to inspect his work.
"Kourin…" he whispered, staring in awe at his transformation. He wasn't Ryuuen any longer but, instead, Kourin. From the soft violet eyes to the long wavy hair to the tiny pout of a mouth, he had become the little sister he had lost.
No, not lost. Children were never lost, his mother had told him after the funeral. And she was right. Kourin was not dead. She was still alive. He was Kourin. Ryuuen was dead, and Kourin was alive. Like it should be.
"You see Kourin, I didn't kill you. You're still alive…"
Kourin made her way down the steps to the kitchen, ignoring the shocked gasps from her family as she entered the kitchen, ignoring the angry glare from her father and horror in Rokou's eyes.
After all, they didn't matter. Kourin was alive.
And that was all that mattered.
at times i wished for death others i wished for peace there were even a few times where i cursed my destiny as a Suzaku warrior was it truly my path if i hadn't even been able to protect the one i had loved most but i didn't know the answer who did in matters like this the apologies and sympathies of others didn't reach me i was incomplete ruined i was no longer Ryuuen but Kourin it scared many but it had never mattered as long as she was still alive nothing mattered eventually i began to wonder if i had lost myself in those years was Ryuuen still alive in there down beneath all those layers that were Kourin i didn't know maybe i didn't want to
Ryuuen opened his eyes.
There looks were a mixture of fear, horror, and sorrow; Miaka's eyes were brimming with tears ready to spill over her cheeks. Tamahome restrained himself, but he could see the pain in his fellow warrior's eyes. Wonderful. Rather than help them, he had only caused them more pain.
"Nuriko…"
He glanced over at Miaka and smiled sadly. "Yes?"
She opened and closed her mouth, ignorant of what to say. How could she comfort her friend on a matter she had never experienced on such a level? She had lost Yui, but that was nothing compared to…Miaka trembled. "Nuriko…I'm so sorry."
Even as he fought them, Nuriko could feel the tears overcoming him, and he was abruptly aware of warm wetness on his cheeks. A hand appeared on his shoulder, massaging it gently. That would be Tamahome trying to comfort him, but could he even be consoled anymore? Ryuuen didn't know.
But maybe Nuriko did.
He placed one hand over Tamahome's, squeezing tightly, another one going around Miaka as the priestess came to him for an embrace. Suzaku…it had been so long since anyone had understood. So long since he had revealed the truth of his sin. It had hurt to tell them, but the release he felt even as he cried was long since worth it. Too long had he held it all in.
Oh and gods how he cried. Cried and cried until he could no longer lament his loss in the form of tears. Cried until Suzaku's strongest warrior barely had the strength to wrap his arms around his priestess and amalgamate himself with her purity.
And Miaka and Tamahome cried within him, sharing in his own sorrow yet rejoicing in the bond they now shared with the purple-haired warrior who had hidden so much behind a mask of femininity. There they stayed, the three of them, mourning the loss of innocence and essence and reveling in the new and brighter hope of future generations to come.
Maybe I've played this charade too long. Everyone who knows my secret abhors to it or pretends it isn't there. They say ignorance is bliss, and maybe they are right. The Suzaku warriors are the first to know my secret in a long time. Perhaps it is a time of change for me; perhaps Kourin has finally…I don't want to say; it's still too painful even after all this time. Maybe afterwards or another day when the rain has let up, and I don't need Kourin anymore. Do I even know what I am anymore, or am I just making excuses? Maybe its time for me to face and truth and finally let Kourin…die.
Oh Kourin…I'm so sorry…So sorry for my sin. For letting you die when I was supposed to protect you.
My sister.
My love.
My salvation.
Eventually the rain let up, the storm stopped, and they were rescued.
But a part of them would always remain in that cave. For on that day the boy known as Chou Ryuuen came back to life, and his sister, Kourin, finally found her peace.
Author's Final Words:
Quick warning: Spoilers for the path Nuriko's fate takes in the show.
Q. Why did you write this story?
A. Nuriko has always been a favorite of Fushigi Yuugi fans for a variety of reasons. Maybe it's his silly demeanor, his loneliness, his tragic past, or even his heart wrenching demise. No matter the situation, at one point or another during the show, Nuriko won the hearts of every fan. Whether he captured it wholly or even just for moment is null; the point is, somewhere in the storyline of Fushigi Yuugi he touched us in a way no other character was able to. I myself was never a huge Nuriko fan. I liked him, yes, but otherwise he came off as a very odd and overly emotional character.
That all changed around episode thirty or so when Nuriko revealed his tragic story of love and loss to Miaka and Tamahome. For the first time in Fushigi Yuugi my heart went out to the purple-haired okama and his lonely ways. In all of his unrequited affection for Hotohori, never once did I realize how utterly alone and misunderstood he was. Possibly for the first time I was able to imagine what it must be like to a be a stranger among those you are bound to by fate. For the sake and nobility of such a brave warrior whose story we were able to follow from start to finish from the first steps into his psychological transition to his defeat of his last inner demon, I wrote this story to honor the part of us we all lose when we lose those we love.
Q. Why the cave scene?
A. It is my belief that Nuriko's greatest moment of character reflection and the event that begins the long road to his epiphany (which is later the acceptance of his manhood) takes place when he recounts the tragic story of his dead sister to Miaka and Tamahome while Soi's storm rages around there. The imagery in that scene is extremely powerful and, I feel, very symbolic of Nuriko's emotions at the time.
To me, the ocean and the storm represent the turmoil and suffering Nuriko has gone through in his life after the loss of his sister. Escaping into the cave is a metaphor for Nuriko and the others escaping that turmoil for some time, and the serenity of the cave setting represents long sought after release of those emotions by Nuriko. He's held it all in, and finally he's found the strength to let it all out in a story to the two people who were the first to befriend him. The metaphor is enhanced by the first appearance of Nuriko's gauntlets and his use of them. It's the first of the few scenes where Nuriko allows his masculinity to reveal itself in order to save a friend from a compromising situation, which is a throwback to his past life as well, since, as a boy, he failed to save his sister's life.
Lastly, I've made it in the idea that Nuriko may have associated his duty with Miaka with the duty he had as Kourin's brother to protect her. In both situations, they were connected by a bond that made it obligatory for him to protect the two girls. This is also why I feel Nuriko eventually fell in love and died protecting Miaka.
I'm going off tangent, and I'm getting into spoilers, so to sum up my point, there's far more symbolism in the cave scene than most people give it credit for, and therefore I decided to use it in my story.
Q. What's with the random gibberish between scenes?
A. What else? Nuriko's random, personal thoughts in each scene. Consider it for a moment, do you think in full, grammatically correct sentences? The fragmented form of the writing also illustrates how much Kourin's death broke Nuriko, so they're more like shattered pieces of the full memory as he goes along. Look at it this way: the fragmented italicized thoughts are like shards of glass of a shattered mirror. The mirror itself represents the entirety of Nuriko's childhood and memories of Kourin.
As for the final reflection piece in which all the sentences have proper punctuation and are more readable, that represents the idea that Nuriko is beginning to close the final chapter of his life as Kourin. He has relived the pain of his past, faced his inner demons, and is now beginning to see the road of his destiny clearer. In doing so, his thought process becomes more readable. Notice, however, that some of it still has the free form and grammatically incorrect format that only our own thoughts can have.
Well, that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed the story and, if you're apt to it, please review. Don't feel obligated, though. Just enjoy it for what it is! Thank you and good night/day!
