Disclaimer:  Otnay inemay.  Amnday.

Notes & Warnings:  Obviously, spoilers for ep 33...but, if you're on the second part of chapter two, then probably you've already been spoiled, ne? ^_~.

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2.  Resurrection (II)

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Miaka awoke to a gentle hand on her shoulder.  She'd been dreaming, of a bright spot of light flashing against a thick darkness; of a pale hand, rising up above a blanket of snow...but, even now, she could feel the dream fading, and so she let it go, and opened her eyes. 

"T...Tamahome?"

Tamahome stood above her, clad in his beige tunic and pants, arms hanging limply at his sides as if he couldn't find the strength to lift them.  His eyes, she noticed, were dark and rimmed with red, and if the pale splotches on his cheeks were any indication, he'd been crying.  Miaka immediately felt a stab of anguish lance into her heart, had to hold her breath to keep the cry from fleeing her lips. 

The tears of the others affected her, made her hurt for them...but, Tamahome's tears were like knives against her soul.  It was almost a palpable pain, starting in the pit of her stomach and branching upwards with claws that made it difficult to draw breath without sobbing.  She swallowed the longing to weep, though, and pulled herself into a sitting position on the bed; the blankets clumped at her waist, pooled out over her legs and dangled off the bed.  And, after a few seconds, Tamahome spoke. 

"Miaka," he said.  His voice sounded choked, and his eyes, while riveted to her face, seemed very far away.  "Miaka, something's...something's happened.  Ch...Chiriko..."  His words faded, and he seemed to struggle for a moment.

Miaka felt her blood go cold.  "N...Nan da, Tamahome?" she asked in a small, shaky voice.  "Chiriko isn't...I mean...onegai...he isn't...?"

The seventeen-year-old's eyes snapped back into focus, and he finally seemed to see her as he looked at her.  "Ah, iie, iie!  Chiriko's fine.  But..."  His eyes squeezed shut.  "But, he...did something, Miaka.  Something that...that wasn't...good."

The girl frowned.  "Tamahome?  What is it?  What did he do?"

Before he could answer, however, there was the slow creak of the door behind him sliding open, and Miaka was suddenly aware of a great warmth spreading over her skin, of something bright and familiar flashing like a streak of lightning in her mind...

And, then, Tamahome moved to the side, and everything went blurry.

He was moving slowly, gingerly, as if just getting accustomed to using the muscles in his arms and legs.  Cropped strands of violet hair brushed lightly against his slim shoulders, whispered against the curve of his cheek, dangled just above the dark rose of his eyes; his arms, just as deceptively-slim as she remembered them, had been folded lightly over the flatness of his chest, and his lips were bent into a small, almost hesitant smile.

He...he was...he was...

Tears swam in her eyes, trickled over her cheeks and bathed her lips in the taste of salt.  "I-It's not fair," she whispered, hanging her head, not looking at him, not looking at anything but her shaking fingers and the warm brown of the blanket.  "I-It's not fair.  Dreams aren't allowed to feel this real..."

A blur of blue and ribboned gold swam into her vision, then, and suddenly there were warm, strong hands on her shoulders, familiar eyes peering up into her own. 

"Miaka," Nuriko said softly, and she could see that there were tears on his cheeks, that the hands on her shoulders were trembling, just slightly.  "It's not a dream.  I'm...here."

Could...could it actually be true?  Could it...could he really...could he really be...?

Carefully, cautiously, Miaka raised her eyes from the blanket, stared at the boy who knelt beside her bed with a mix of suspicion and hope in her eyes.  She lifted a hand, touched it to the smooth curve of Nuriko's cheek, felt the warmth of his skin and the slight vibration of his breathing.  Slowly, she slid her fingers down to the dulled point of his chin, up over the rise of his lips and the curve of his nose and finally stopped just beneath his left eye, her finger pressed to the small, distinctive mole that rested there. 

This mole.  Nuriko's mole.  These eyes...  Nuriko's eyes.  Nuriko's...

And, things suddenly went blurry again.

"Nuriko!" Miaka cried.  She threw herself forward, wrapped her arms tightly around his chest and clutched him close for a long moment.  "Nuriko...Nuriko...you're alive!  You're alive!"

He spoke into her ear, then, his breath warm against her skin.  From the choked waver to it, she knew that he was crying, too.  "Hai," he whispered.  "I'm alive."

"But...how?  How is it possible?"  She sat back, noticed for the first time the twinge of pain to Nuriko's features, the shadow that seemed to have fallen over his eyes.  "I...you died, Nuriko.  How can you be...alive again when you died?"

Soft footsteps padded into the room; she knew from the clack of beads and the jingle of the staff that it was Chichiri, even before he spoke.  "Chiriko...brought him back from the dead no da."

Miaka's eyes went wide.  "Chiriko??  How?"

"There'll be plenty of time to talk about that later, ne, Chichiri?" Nuriko said, turning to smile gently at the young monk.  "I'm starving..."

The two seishi stared at each other for a long moment, and Miaka got the impression that there was more passing between them than just dinner plans...but, then, Chichiri smiled.  His head dipped into a slight nod, and a moment later, he'd fixed the mask back into place over his features.  "Hai, all right," he said brightly.  "Let's go downstairs then, no da.  I know the others are eager to see you no da."

Miaka blinked.  "You haven't seen everybody else, yet?"

Nuriko turned back to her, a small smile bending at his lips.  "Iie.  Chichiri was there when I--"  His voice went soft for a moment.  "--woke up...and, he brought us straight here."  The smile lifted, and Nuriko's gaze slid downwards with a slight blush.  "I'm anxious to see everyone else, of course...but, I wanted to see you first, Miaka."

Something clenched at her heart, and before she'd given it much thought, she was off the bed and in his arms again, and from the slight oof!-thud that followed, it was fairly obvious that she'd knocked him onto his back.  But, it was okay.  It was okay...because, Nuriko was alive.  His laughter rang in her ears, punctuated by an occasional soft cough, and when she opened her eyes and lifted herself up off of him, he grinned and kissed her on the cheek and held her close again.

"It's so good to see you again, Miaka," he said fervently, releasing her.  And, then, he winked.  "Now, ne, let's get downstairs!  Being dead sure makes a guy hungry."

All the appetite she'd lost since Nuriko's death flooded back into her, then, and her stomach let out an enthusiastic growl.  "Hai!" she exclaimed.  "Let's go eat!!"

~*~

The doctor's hands were cold on his chest...but, not colder than the suffocating snows of Mount Black; not colder than the icy sensation of the blood draining from his body, the life trickling out into the chill air...

"Well," said Mitsukake, snapping him out of his thoughts, "you don't seem to be injured anywhere.  Your heart beat is a little faster than it should be, but then that might be a side effect of...what you've been through."  The elder seishi took a long step back, started packing his medical equipment into the small satchel he carried with him.  On his shoulder, Tama-neko gave an encouraging, "Mreow!"

Nuriko let out a soft, exhausted sigh, then sat down hard on the bed and grabbed for his tunic.  He was just pulling it out in front of him, ready to tug it back on over his bare chest, when something like a shudder ran through his body. 

The monster's claws had torn through the soft blue fabric of his tunic, ripped outwards with a fine mist of crimson that came from inside of him, was warm with his life and his blood and he could feel the monster shifting underneath him, breathing hard and moving a little and every time he moved he could -feel- it inside of him, because the claws were still in him and the hand was still pushing up on his back, holding him into the air like a prize, his legs dangling and his arms hanging and his head lolled back towards the sky and--

"Nuriko, are you all right?"

He opened his eyes--when had he even closed them??--and managed a weak smile.  "Ahh...gomen ne, Mitsukake.  I'm...I'm just tired, that's all."

The man was frowning, kneeling there on the floor in front of him with the dark blue of his eyes narrowed in concern.  He drew in a breath, opened his mouth to say something...and then promptly shut it again.  "Get some rest, then, Nuriko," he said quietly, giving a small, gentle smile.  "Although, after what you've been through, I wouldn't think you'd want to lie down again for awhile."

The healer rose from the floor, giving the smaller seishi a gentle pat on the shoulder, and then turned and started walking towards the door--

"Ne...Mitsukake?"

He stopped, turned back and raised a quizzical eyebrow.  "Hai?"

"Did...did Miaka get the shinzaho?  After I...died?"

Mitsukake stared at him for a moment in surprise...and, then, he smiled and gave a slight nod.  "Hai, Nuriko.  She got it."

He let out a great sigh, closed his eyes in relief.  "Good.  I'm...I'm glad."

"You know," the healer said after a moment, "what you did was unbelievably stupid.  If you had waited and not moved that boulder when you had, I might've--"  His voice sounded suddenly choked.  "--reached you in time."

Nuriko felt himself go pale.  "No," he murmured.  "No, you...you wouldn't have been able to do anything, Mitsukake."

The healer frowned.  "What do you mean?"

It was like a hand on his throat, cold and clinging, and he knew--knew knew knew--that nothing could save him now, nothing could pry away that hand now that it had found him...

"Death was...inside of me," he said softly.  "I knew I was going to die, and nothing you could've done would've saved me."

Mitsukake said nothing for a few moments, studying him with those narrow, intelligent eyes...and, then, he nodded slightly.  "It must've been difficult, knowing that."

"Not...not really.  I mean, it's not that I wanted to die, but..."  A slight smile touched his lips, and he let his eyes slide open.  "But, I remember that a part of me was happy to go, because I was helping Miaka, and because I would...I would be..."  He faltered.

The doctor nodded.  "Because you would be reunited with your sister," he concluded.

Nuriko felt a jolt run through him, and the tunic slipped from his fingers in his shock, dropped lightly to the floor.  "My...my sister?" he echoed with a frown.  "Mitsukake..."  He shook his head.  "You know I don't have a sister."

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Notes:  Yay, part II of chapter 2 is finnnnnnnnnito!  Chapter three will follow as…erm…soon as I write it. :)  Until then, leave a review, and let me know what you think! ^_~.