Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi wa watashi no ja nai. Kuso.
Notes & Warnings: Tasuki language, angsty stuff, and Miaka getting shrill. ^^;;
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
3. Blurry.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Where is he now no da?"
Mitsukake folded his hands on the blotchy wood of the table, and his big shoulders heaved in a sigh. "He's sleeping. I gave him linden blossom to help, since I don't think he would've slept otherwise."
Miaka, seated next Tamahome at the opposite end of the
long table, slapped her hands down on the wood, stared at the healer almost
challengingly. "I don't
understand!" she exclaimed a little shakily. "H-How could he not remember Kourin? He's..." Her voice went soft.
"He's lived almost his entire life because of her. How can he just not remember her??"
The doctor's shoulders slumped a bit, and he rubbed
for a moment at the bridge of his nose.
"I'm not certain. It could
just be a temporary form of amnesia, caused by the stress of being brought
back, but...I can't be sure. It isn't
as if I've dealt with this sort of thing before."
Tamahome, who had been staring at his clasped hands on
the table, raised his head.
"Chichiri," he said quietly, "what about you? Do you know anything about this?"
The monk's head drooped slightly. "I know a little no da...but, not
enough to explain this. The only other
time I've ever heard of this sort of thing being performed successfully was a
very long time ago no da. An emperor's
young son was brought back after having been dead for several weeks no
da."
Miaka's eyes were wide. "What happened?"
"The son had been dead for too long," he
said, very softly. "A day in the
Sky passes differently than a day in this world. It was as if he'd spent a lifetime in a place of paradise, only
to be pulled back to earth no da.
He..." The monk's eye slid
painfully shut. "He killed himself
only two months later."
The table went deathly silent.
"You..." Miaka shook her head, eyes still wide. "You don't think...Nuriko..." She pushed back her chair, made to stand up--
"Iie, Miaka," Mitsukake rumbled. "I left Tasuki with him. It's all right. He's perfectly safe."
Chichiri nodded slightly. "Besides no da, Nuriko was dead for only a few days--and,
he's a shichiseishi no da. The
emperor's son wasn't much older than five.
He didn't understand the consequences no da...but, Nuriko does."
Miaka thudded back into her seat.
"What about Chiriko?" Tamahome asked. He shook his head, and it was difficult not
to notice that his fingers were trembling, just slightly, on the tabletop. "How did he know how to do it? Would he...know how to help Nuriko
remember?"
Chichiri was silent for a long time, the background lull of the common room conversation filtering into their ears...and, then, his eye slid open, and he gave Tamahome a measured gaze. "I'll talk to Chiriko about it no da, but I'm not sure he can help. There was something that drove him to do this no da, and probably someone who helped him with the ritual...but, until he tells us that, there's no way to know no da. As for Nuriko..." His words went soft. "If this memory lapse goes away no da, then there's nothing to worry about. But, if it doesn't...then, he probably can't remember for a reason, and to try to force him to remember might harm him no da."
Silence fell again, thick and shadowed with worry, before any could find the will to speak again.
Finally, it was Mitsukake who broke into the
silence. "I realize that this is a
difficult time for everyone," he said, glancing at each of the other three
in turn, "but, we also can't let ourselves forget the larger picture. We have the first shinzaho, but without the
other, Suzaku can't be summoned. We've
delayed four days. We can't afford to
delay any longer."
Chichiri nodded, strands of blue hair brushing against
his scar with the motion. "Hai no
da. Mitsukake is right. Summoning Suzaku-sama should be our primary
goal, no matter how much we'd like to focus on Nuriko no da. But..." His eye drifted to Miaka, locked her into its stare. "But, there will be risks with getting
the other shinzaho no da. The Seiryuu
no shichiseishi could reach it first, and then wait for us to arrive to steal
away the other no da. So...we should
split up."
Miaka blinked.
"Split up?"
"Hai. I
can't afford to use too much magic, since Nakago is close no da...but, I can
transport you, Nuriko, and the shinzaho back to Konan no da, where you'll all
be safe until the rest of us can find the other no da."
Mitsukake made a low noise in his throat. "Perhaps Chiriko should go with
them."
The monk gave the man beside him a brief glance, then
nodded. "Hai, that might be
best."
"So," Tamahome said slowly, "that leaves me, Tasuki, and you two to get the other shinzaho."
"That should be more than enough no da. And, we should be able to move fairly
quickly no da, since there will be only four of us."
"But..." Miaka was frowning, her hands clasping and unclasping on the table in front of her. "But, I'm Suzaku no Miko. I should go with you."
"Miaka," Tamahome said in a low voice,
"you'll be safer in Konan with Hotohori and Nuriko. It's going to be dangerous."
"And, this wasn't dangerous?" the girl demanded. Her eyes blazed with anger, and her voice was climbing slowly upwards in volume. "It wasn't dangerous, almost drowning when we fell off the boat? It wasn't dangerous, almost getting eletrocuted by Soi's lightning? It wasn't dangerous, almost getting killed by that-that Seiryuu monster? It wasn't dangerous, Tamahome? It wasn't dangerous when Nuriko got killed??"
And, then, without another word, Miaka rose from her chair, folded her arms shakily over her chest, and hurried out of the room. A few seconds later, they heard the thudding of her shoes on the stairs, and then even that was gone.
And, gradually, life and sound trickled back into the common room.
"She's not taking this well no da," Chichiri
murmured once most eyes in the room had abandoned them. "If that turns out not to be Nuriko no
da...I can only imagine how she'll take it."
Tamahome, whose head had found its way onto his folded
arms, snapped up from the table.
"Not...not Nuriko?
Chichiri? What do you mean?"
"Kaisei no Mahou is not simple magic no
da. Even if I didn't have other
problems with it, I'd never attempt it myself no da. Too many things can go wrong.
The soul can come back...changed."
"Changed?"
The monk's head slipped forward into a nod. "Hai. Especially if the soul is very close to another soul no da...the summoning can accidentally draw bits and pieces from both souls, instead of just the one no da. So, it's possible, if Chiriko did something wrong in the summoning no da, that the person upstairs is a combination of Nuriko and his sister, Kourin. Or, it might be only a small part of Nuriko and bits of a million others no da. There's just no way to tell." His eye slid closed. "And, Nuriko knows that something's not right no da. But, I don't think he knows what it is."
~*~
He woke up screaming.
The fragments of the dream were scattered in his mind, shards of glass that pricked in painful rhythms against the inside of his skull; they moved too quickly to grasp, but slowly enough to hurt. There was a girl, a girl with his face, screaming a name that felt like his own but which he couldn't understand or remember; and, there was another girl, this one older, taller, smiling gently and floating before his eyes in a gown that glistened with crimson. Eyes of glowing amber swam in his vision, also, their depths warm with a loving smile, but despite the flood of emotion pouring from them, he felt nothing. It was as if he had been numbed, as if he'd been plunged into a pond of icy water and then been expected to feel the tap of a finger on his shoulder; the numbness was too much, the touch not nearly strong enough. He felt nothing.
And, then, there was the Cold Hand, gripping his throat in horrible memory, dragging him into nothingness... He thrashed, screaming, trapped in the shadows between sleep and wakefulness, and was only vaguely aware of the sound of a familiar voice, cutting up through his screams.
"Nuriko!" the voice bellowed. "Nuriko, calm down! NURIKO!
CALM THE FUCK DOWN!!"
At length, his thrashing slowed; the screams faded into trembling whimpers. The icy grip of the Hand on his throat melted away, was replaced by warm, strong hands on his shoulders. And, finally, the darkness bled from his vision, and there was the muted glow of fading afternoon before his eyes, the sight of brandy-brown eyes and fiery tufts of hair.
Tasuki was kneeling on the bed beside him, gripping
onto his shoulders with white-knuckled hands; his face was pale and drawn, and
his eyes were wide. "Shit,"
the bandit breathed. "Never
fuckin' heard anybody scream so much..."
Slowly, Nuriko drew in a breath, let it out in what sounded like a shaky sob. "I-I'm sorry," he managed.
He was wet. Somehow, he brought a trembling hand to his forehead, drew it down over his cheek and discovered that his face was soaked in tears; the rest of his body was bathed in an icy sweat that drenched into his clothes in dark, scattered splotches.
"Shit, Nuriko, are you okay? You're still fuckin' shaking. What the hell were ya dreamin' about?"
"I-I-I don't r-remember," he managed through
chattering teeth. Thin arms wrapped
tightly over his chest.
"C-Cold..."
Tasuki frowned. "Well, no fuckin' kidding. It's freezin' in here already, an' you're fuckin' soaked. Here, come on. Get over by the fire and take y'er clothes off." Tasuki, having been rising from the bed, paused and gave the smaller seishi a narrow stare. "An' don't fuckin' get any ideas."
"I-Ideas?"
"Ehh, forget it. C'mon, lemme help ya up." The seventeen-year-old stretched down an arm, slid it carefully beneath the smaller man's shoulders, and then lifted. Nuriko was pushed easily into a sitting position, and--after spending a moment peeling the blankets from around his body--swung his legs over the edge of the bed and planted his bare feet on the floor. A few moments later, the bandit had helped him to the small rug beside the fire and was helping him pull the wet tunic up over his head.
"Ya know," Tasuki said with a slight grin,
in the process of spreading the tunic out on the floor, "I still remember
the first time I saw you without y'er shirt on. First time I ever knew for sure you were a fuckin'
guy." He chuckled softly. "Guess I didn't really believe it until
then."
Slim fingers working at the ribbon cinched at his
waist, Nuriko paused to look at the bandit.
"Why?"
"Eh?"
Tasuki glanced back at the smaller man over his shoulder, raised an
eyebrow. "Whaddya mean,
'why?'"
Nuriko was frowning.
"Why didn't you know I was a guy?"
"Why didn't I...what the fuck? How could I? Ya fuckin' looked like a girl, an' the way you were always
hangin' on Hotohori-sama like that--no fuckin' surprise I didn't get that you
were a guy at first. Shit, Nuriko,
nobody did."
"Tasuki, what're you talking about?"
"What the fuck do you mean, what am I talkin' about?!"
Nuriko's eyebrows came together angrily; his voice was
low and irritated. "I mean, I hear
what you're saying but none of it makes sense!
Why would anybody think I wasn't a guy?
It's not like I was running around in a dress or something. And, Hotohori-sama? When did I ever hang on him? And, why would I? He's a guy!"
Tasuki's mouth dropped open. "He's...he's a...what did you just say?"
"He's a guy," Nuriko said with deliberate slowness. "Or, didn't you notice that, either?"
The bandit stared at him in silence for a long moment,
eyes wide and mouth still hanging slightly open, and then he shook his
head. "Nuriko, what the hell is
wrong with you? You love
Hotohori-sama. You have for fuckin' years."
The violet-haired seishi gave a sharp laugh.
"Love him? You mean like...like that? He's a good friend, hai, and I care about
him...but, Tasuki, seriously! He's a
guy! I could never love a...a guy. I mean, I can respect you if you feel that
way, but I don't. I never have."
"I'M NOT THE FUCKIN' OKAMA!" Tasuki
bellowed. "Shit, what's
wrong with you?? It's like the last
fuckin' years happened different in
your head or somethin'!"
"Ne, Tasuki, maybe you should get some
sleep." His eyes narrowed, and the
fingers that had been pulling at the hem of his pants immediately tugged it
back up. "I can get undressed by
myself, I think. Thanks for your help,
though."
Eyes still wide with shock and anger, the bandit leapt up from the floor, brushed a little violently at the dirt on his pants, and then stalked to the door. The door slammed closed behind him a second later, and Nuriko was left alone.
~*~
Author's Note: Working as hard as I can to get this thing finished ASAP. Let me know what you think, ne? It gives the creative process a shove like you wouldn't believe. ^_~. And, now, because I have waaaaaaay too much caffeine in my system, annnnnnnn AKUGI!! ^^;;
---
Chichiri: The soul can come back...changed.
Tamahome: Changed?
Chichiri: Hai. Especially if the soul is very close to another soul no da, the summoning can accidentally draw bits and pieces from both souls, instead of just one no da. So, it's possible that the reason Nuriko's been acting so strangely is...
Miaka: Iie! Onegai,
don't say it, Chichiri! I-It's too
horrible to be true!
Chichiri: We must face reality no da. He could be acting so strangely because he's...
[The monk glances downward, where Nuriko is currently on all fours beneath the table, hunting for scraps.]
Chichiri: ...part Ashitare no da.
Nuriko: *barks loudly*
Chichiri: Ano. Mitsukake, maybe you should put Tama-neko somewhere safe no da.
[Suddenly, a barefoot Tasuki charges in from the other room. In his hand are a pair of boots covered in slobber and teeth marks.]
Tasuki: Shit, 'Chiri! Nuriko chewed up my fuckin' shoes!!
Chichiri: Look on the bright side, Tasuki. At least he's house-trained no da.
Tasuki: *grumbles* Big fuckin' comfort. Hell if I'm gonna walk around Hokkan with a fuckin' pooper scooper...
--;;