Disclaimer:  What're you, a slow learner or somethin'?  FY wa not-mine desu!

Warnings:  Just angst. ^^;;

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5. Abstraction (II) 

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Something rapped against the door frame.  "Nuriko-san?"

He'd been sitting crosslegged on his new bed, staring blankly at the wall and turning the conversation with Hotohori-sama over in his mind, but now he turned, swung his legs over the side, and smiled.  Chiriko stood tentatively in the doorway, one fist still raised in the knock; the other hung awkwardly at his side, its fingers trembling slightly against the fabric of his tunic.  The boy looked nervous; but, then, this was the first time they'd really spoken since before his death--and, it suddenly occurred to him that Chiriko had been avoiding him all this time, and that he'd been too wrapped up in his own thoughts and concerns to notice.

Rather than dwell on that, though, he gave the boy a slight nod.  Tufts of violet hair fluttered down over his eyes with the motion.  "Hi, Chiriko," he said warmly.  "Come in."

Hesitating only for a moment, the boy obeyed.  Nuriko gave him an encouraging wave, then, and--after another second or so of indecision--the young seishi submitted and hopped onto the bed beside him.  They sat there for a few moments in silence, the dying light of early evening bathing the room around them in a wash of pale amber, before the thirteen-year-old spoke.

His voice was small.  "Are you glad that I brought you back, Nuriko-san?"

He blinked; something cold clenched at his heart for a moment...and, then, vanished..  "Of course, I am," he said ardently.  "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just...Chichiri-san said that..."  The boy's eyes flickered to the far wall.  "He said that you might not be...happy to leave."

"Leave?"

"H-hai," he continued with some difficulty.  "Leave...the Sky.  Heaven.  Paradise.  It...it can't have been easy for you, to leave such a wonderful place, and I can't help but wonder now if maybe I was...if maybe I was selfish, bringing you back."

"Why...'selfish?'"

The boy didn't answer him for a long moment, gaze abstracted, lips pressed together in a tight line.  And, then, his words came in a low rush, soft and fast like a burst of rain.  "Nuriko-san, what was it like?"  His fingers tangled together in his lap.  "Dying, I mean.  Did it...did it hurt?  What happened after it?  Did you get to see people you loved, who had died before?"

There was a need in his voice, a desperate longing Nuriko didn't quite understand. 

"Hai," he answered slowly, "it hurt.  But--"  He smiled slightly.  "--it was the living that hurt more than the dying.  Once I started dying, then...everything got easier to bear.  Things got...softer, and even though there was snow all around me, I was warm.  Even the pain faded away, when the dying started."

Chiriko didn't seem to be breathing, staring at him with wide, fascinated green eyes.  "Wh-what about after that?"

Darkness.  Nothing but darkness, stretching out before him like a vast plain--but, there was a warm hand clinging to his own, drawing him up out of the darkness and into...into...into -what?-

"I don't remember," he whispered. 

The boy's stare was boring into him.  "You...you don't remember?  But, why don't y--"

"Chiriko."  Whether it was actual concern or just a deep desire to get away from this topic, the name sprang from his lips unhindered--and, it had its desired effect.  The boy fell silent, head tilting downwards like a reprimanded school boy.  Once the younger seishi was silent, he spoke the first words that came into his mind:  "Why did you bring me back?"

Chiriko blinked at him.  "You didn't deserve to die like that, Nuriko-san."

"Why?"

"B...Because.  You're a Suzaku shichiseishi, and we need all seven--"

"No, we don't.  Not now.  Not now that we have he shinzaho."

 "That's...that's not what I mean, Nuriko-san."  The boy let a soft sigh pass through his lips, let his head droop so his chin touched against his chest.  "I know that we don't need all the seishi to summon Suzaku.  But, Nuriko-san, we do need all the seishi to be..."  His eyes slid closed.  "To be complete.  You and the others, you're like my family.  My..."  His voice sounded choked all of a sudden.  "My brothers."

Then, the boy turned to him, stared at him for a long moment with fingers kneading in his lap and lips slightly parted as if to say something...

...and, the door flew open.

Nuriko sighed.  Great timing as always, Miaka.

The girl stood framed in the doorway, chest heaving with the attempt to catch her breath, one hand still resting on the wood of the door.  Her hair, out of its usual meatball buns, hung in messy waves on her shoulders, and she'd changed into a thick green sweatshirt and brown shorts, both of which were sprinkled with dark crumbs.  "Ne, Nuriko!" she exclaimed.  "These rooms are so big!  And, they're so close to the dining hall!!"  Finally seeming to notice that Nuriko wasn't alone, the girl blinked, gave a bashful smile.  "Ah-ha, gomen ne.  I didn't know you were here, Chiriko."

Chiriko slid carefully off the bed; his small shoes clapped against the wooden floorboards a moment later.  "Daijobu, Miaka-san," he said with a fairly-convincing smile.  "I was just leaving."

Nuriko frowned.  He'd been about to say something important, he was sure of it--but, what?  And, now that that moment had passed...would it ever be said?

"Ne, Chiriko," he said, hopping lightly to his feet.  "About what we were talking abou--"

"Iie, iie," the boy cut in.  He paused, just in front of the doorway, and granted the elder seishi a slight smile crested by wide, pleading eyes.  "We can discuss it later.  Ne, Nuriko-san?" 

He let out a soft breath, nodded.  "Hai...I guess we can."

With that, the boy spun on his heel and, with a slight nod of farewell to their young miko, stepped outside and vanished down the walkway. 

Something's wrong with him...and, it has to do with me, and with dying...but, there's something more to it than that, I know there is.  But, what?  And, why doesn't he want Miaka to know about it?

"Ne...Nuriko?"

He snapped from his thoughts, glanced at the girl and found her with her shoulder leaning against the door, her lips twisted downwards into a frown.  He blinked. " Hm?  What is it, Miaka?"

"Is..."  Her frown deepened.  "Is your...hair shorter?"

His fingers flew reflexively to the cropped strands of violet, touched at the now-exposed skin at the nape of his neck.  "Hai.  It was sloppy, cutting it like that in Hokkan.  Besides--"  He smiled slightly.  "--it was getting a little long, and what with everyone accusing me of looking like a girl, it seemed like a good idea to cut it.  Ne?"

Miaka's voice was soft.  "You certainly...look a lot like a guy, now, Nuriko."

He heaved a massive sigh, flopped backwards onto the bed ,and lay there for a moment.  "Mattaku!" he exclaimed after a few seconds.  "I'm getting really tired of this."  He sighed again, then pushed himself up into a sitting position and raised his arms.  "I'm a guy, okay?  I don't just look like a guy, I am a guy.  I can prove it if you need me to, ne?  So, please, pass the message along to everyone else, because I'm getting really sick of having to explain this over and over again.  I am a guy.  I am a guy.  I'm not a girl and I never was.  Okaaaaaay?"

Miaka was silent for a long time.  And, was it his imagination, or was her lip quivering, just slightly...?  "I-I know you're a guy," she said at last.  Her voice was small, as if she couldn't find the strength to speak any more loudly.  "But...but, can't you be a guy and still be Nuriko?  Can't you stay how you were and not...not change just because you don't remember dressing like a girl?"  An unexpected flood of tears surged from her cheeks, then, and her voice grew thick with sobs.  "I want Nuriko back!" she wailed with sudden volume.  "Why can't you be him?  Why can't you?  WHY CAN'T YOU BE NURIKO?  IT ISN'T FAIR!"

It was as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach; all the air swept from his lungs and would not return.  The rest of him, too, seemed frozen in the moment, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open--was his heart even beating?  When he finally regained the power to breathe, his mouth was dry and several moments had passed in silence.  "I...I don't understand," he managed to sputter out.  "I-I'm Nuriko."

"You might look like him," Miaka said in a low, shaky whisper, "but you are not Nuriko.  Not the Nuriko I knew."

"That's crazy, Miaka!"

The girl had taken a few small steps backwards, now stood just outside the door, her tears glittering with refracted sunlight.  "Something went wrong," she whispered.  "I knew it wasn't true.  I knew it...but, I didn't want to believe it, so I pretended.  Ne?  We all pretended.  We all pretended that, because you look like Nuriko, you are him."  Her voice sank.  "But, you're not.  You're not."

And, with that, the girl turned and charged off down the walkway; only a few seconds later, there came the slam of her door, followed by the squeak of bed coils and high, anguished weeping.  Stunned and shaking, Nuriko slid from the bed, fell to his knees on the floor and sat there for a moment.  The tears were burning in his eyes, trickling down over his cheeks in hot, salty streams, but he couldn't stop them.  Something inside of him was screaming, and it was all he could do not to succumb to that urge himself.

Not me?  Not me?  What does she mean, I'm not me?  I'm me!  I'm Nuriko!  Chou Ryuen, Hotohori-sama said!  I'm Chou Ryuen!  I'm Nuriko!  I-I have to be...!  Why would she say that?  Why would she say something like that when I'm -me-??  Gods, what's wrong with everyone?  I don't know who they want me to be...  Why isn't what I am ever good enough for anyone?  Mattaku, all those years, everyone always wanted me to act like a boy was supposed to act, but now that I am acting that way, they hate me!  I-I don't under...

He froze, eyes going wide.  Even the tears seemed to pause on his cheeks. 

What...what did I just say?

All those years?  All those years?  What the hell're you talking about, ne, Nuriko??  You've -always- acted like a boy.  It's -them-; they're the ones who're trying to convince you that you were something other than that.  Mattaku, don't let them do this to you!  Don't let them convince you that you're something other than what you are! 

"But, how do I know?" he whispered.  His palms thudded onto the floor boards; his head and shoulders hunched over them, the tears spurred back into motion and gathering in a small pool beneath him.  "How do I know what I am?"

How do I know that they're not right??

At length, he crawled into his bed, curled up beneath the warmth of the covers and closed his eyes.  He hadn't intended to sleep, only to feel warm and safe and to drown out the sound of Miaka's sobs...but, after only a few minutes, he fell into a thick, heavy sleep.  And, when the dreams came, he was too deep in the darkness to pull himself out.               

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