Chapter 9: Beyond The Looking Glass

She looked back at the capital of Konan one last time before it disappeared from view. In a way, Miaka was relieved that they were leaving it behind. So many bad things had happened while they had been there…No! I won't think about what happened!��

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting off the nausea which overtook her at the memory. The constant motion of being on a horse was not helping matters either. Fortunately, her brother, who was riding with her was there to steady her. Gratefully leaning back against his reassuring presence, she felt the queasiness slowly receding.

They were on their way to Mt. Taikyoku to look for Taiitsukun. At the moment, Miaka wanted nothing more than to go home, and hopefully put everything behind her.

She straightened abruptly, resolving not to allow something like that get to her. She hated being depressed, and she could not stand the fact that everyone around her seemed to be unhappy as well. Taka and Keisuke were quiet and sombre. Nakago was being cold and unfriendly. Nakago doesn't count. He's ALWAYS like that! What's with that stupid impassive mask anyway? Maybe I should tell him that if he's not careful, his face is gonna stick like that forever! She snorted, feeling inexplicably better now that she was thinking unkind thoughts about her former worst enemy.

Almost as though he had heard her mental complaint, he turned and favoured her with one of his disconcertingly expressionless blue stares. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn that the man was psychic. She returned his look innocently, "What?"

He continued to study her in the most unnerving manner for a few more seconds, almost as if she was a particularly distasteful specimen he'd found crawling under the lens of a microscope…

"You seem happy, considering," he said finally, his tone as dry as ever.

"Happy!" At least he was talking to her again…he'd been anti-social to the extreme ever since that last incident back at the palace. I wonder why? It's not as if he was the one who got smacked in the face! "As happy as anyone can be after what you did to me! Did you really have to hit so hard?" she grumbled, glaring at him balefully.

He raised a blonde eyebrow at her petulant tone as the corners of his mouth lifted in the faintest of smirks. "Consider it payback," he told her smoothly, "For the two times you slapped me."

His words were carefully chosen for maximum effect. They were almost guaranteed to get a rise out of her…while serving the dual purpose of getting her mind off the darker, unpleasant aspects of their stay in Konan.

Besides, he always found it entertaining to watch her reactions…

Keisuke and Taka exchanged worried glances with each other.

Payback? The insufferable jerk! Doesn't he ever forget anything! I really should have kicked him where it HURTS—

"YOU DESERVED THEM!" Miaka yelled furiously, her depression forgotten for the time being. She gave Nakago a dirty look which would have made a lesser man fear the safety of certain important extremities…

"If you keep that up, your face will stick like that."

She spluttered with outrage, as he had predicted she would. Still, he could not help but wonder at the expression of sheer surprise which had passed through her eyes a heartbeat before it had been replaced by indignant anger.

Satisfied that he had sufficiently distracted her, Nicholas wheeled his horse around and continued down the road; certain that she would be too preoccupied with plotting various (painful) ways and means to exact revenge on him to even think of what had happened at the palace…

It was almost dark when they stopped for the night. Leading the horses to a small spring off the main road, they decided to spend the night there. Located in the middle of a grove of pine trees, the spring was beautiful and secluded.

Taka watched Nicholas discreetly from his place beside the campfire. He had been trying to figure out what it was which he found so disturbing about Nicholas. The other man was a complex puzzle, and Taka realised that he was no closer finding the answer now than when they had first met.

He found relationship Miaka shared with the blonde man to be even more unfathomable.

Between insulting her one moment and ignoring her the next, Nicholas continually baited her, seemingly for the sole aim of annoying her almost to the point of hate. In response, Miaka would usually end up glaring that her supposed arch-nemesis so fiercely that if looks could kill, Nicholas would have been instantly reduced to a sterilized pile of ash…

Oddly enough, beyond the insults and the angry glares, Taka could see the unconventional friendship that existed between the two of them…except, he wasn't even sure whether it could be classified as friendship. It operated on a very strange frequency, and it certainly wasn't like anything he had ever encountered before.

There was one thing, however, which was very clear to him: Under all the arrogance; beneath the cool, calm exterior, Nicholas did care about her…enough to protect her time and time again. And Miaka, he knew, trusted the blonde man with her life. And there's the way she always looks to him for guidance or approval…how she values his opinions above all else.

It did not escape his notice either, that Miaka was the only one who addressed Nicholas as Nakago. It was almost…

It was almost intimate.

Taka realised, with a start, that he was jealous.

Jealous that Nicholas had memories of time spent with Miaka…Jealous of the connection they shared which he would never be privy to. He was not entirely comfortable with the thought of her having such a deep emotional attachment to another man, even if it was just friendship.

Perhaps he would not have minded it as much if Nicholas wasn't so handsome. Being male and strictly heterosexual did not mean that Taka was blind to the other man's undeniable good looks. To top it all off, Nicholas appeared to excel at everything he did. That's it, isn't it? Anything you can do, he can do better. He knows her better than you do…and he does a much better job of protecting her, even from herself. You're afraid that Miaka will choose him instead of you,� his mind sneered unmercifully, dragging his most secret fear out into the open.

Iie! I just…I just…

He closed his eyes bitterly; his only consolation being the fact that the tall, impassive blonde displayed no interest beyond the platonic towards the one girl Taka had been dreaming of all his life.

Miaka came awake suddenly to a sharp jab in the ribs. Her eyes snapped open to see her brother crouched beside her, a finger to his lips indicating that she should remain quiet. The fire had gone out, but the moon provided enough light for her to make out the forms of Nakago and Taka standing tensed, as though they were expecting an attack.

What's going on?

Miaka started violently at the sound of flapping wings, unnaturally loud in the silence, as a bird was startled into flight by an unseen presence.

She felt Keisuke tightening his hold on her, drawing her closer to him as dark shapes slowly materialised out of the shadows.

"Kuso…we're surrounded," she heard her brother mutter, fear and worry in his voice.

Then, as if acting on some signal, the shapes closed in on them, revealing themselves to be men dressed in black. Assassins. There were six of them, and even with her untrained eye, Miaka could see that they were all highly skilled. They were outnumbered, unarmed, and at a distinct disadvantage.

Nicholas found himself faced with no less than three opponents. He dodged the first one's strike, the razor sharp metal claws attached to his adversary's gloves coming dangerously close to his face. Lithely side-stepping the man, he forcefully rammed an elbow into the unfortunate assassin's lower back.

The assassin doubled over and crumpled to the ground, the pain from badly bruised kidneys ensuring that the man would not be getting up any time soon.

Silver-blue eyes narrowed in concentration as Nicholas immediately engaged in combat with the second assassin, even as his mind raced. There's something not right about this...He ducked under the swing of a sword, the sharp edge just barely missing his shoulder. By all rights, it should have drawn blood at least…

Why are they hesitating?

He avoided another sword thrust.

There it was again…that fraction-of-a-second hesitation.

He noticed something else as well…these men were assassins, there was no doubt about that, but apparently, their intentions were not to kill. The one with the sword could have aimed for his throat, but didn't. Nicholas was no fool…he knew that the man was proficient enough with the weapon to have taken his head off with one sweep. They've been ordered not to kill us, he realised. However, the assassins did not seem to have a problem with maiming…

For the first time in his current life, he regretted not being able to summon any of the powers he'd had as Nakago. Things would have been a great deal easier and the battle would have been over by now. The longer the fighting dragged on, the more likely someone would get seriously injured…And chances are that it would be Tamahome, he thought disdainfully, his peripheral vision registering that although the former Suzaku seishi knew how to fight, and was holding up admirably, his odds against the skilled assassins who had cornered him were slim to none. Sooner or later, one of them was sure to land a lucky shot.

Nicholas performed a sudden back flip which took him out of the sword's range momentarily, forcing the assassin to lunge at him again. He stood his ground, waiting until the last possible moment…

Now.

He flung a handful of sand into the man's face, blinding his opponent. The real purpose of the stunt had been to disguise his actions; grabbing the sand off the ground had been easy when he had landed briefly on his hands before righting himself.

The assassin stumbled back in surprise, fingers clawing at useless eyes.

It was then that he heard the faint whistling sound of something heading towards him. His senses screamed a warning even as he obeyed his instincts and threw himself to one side.

Not a moment too soon…on the ground where he had been a split-second ago was a dart. Small, perfectly weighted and of a very distinct design, its sleek lines more functional than artistic. Nicholas instantly recognised it…and its purpose. Mentally cursing himself for not paying more attention to the identity of the assassins, his gaze snapped up to the last of his opponents, standing partially hidden in the shadows.

First things first, he told himself grimly. Aware that every second counted, he dropped into a crouch, smoothly plucking the dart out of the ground. In the same movement, he lunged at the assassin whom he'd blinded earlier; jamming the dart into the man's jugular vein. With a muffled howl, the man collapsed, clutching at his throat in a futile attempt to get the dart out.

Picking up the sword, he faced his last adversary. He knew better than to underestimate this particular one as he stood motionless, waiting for his opponent to make the first move, his newly acquired weapon held at ready. The assassin was wise to position himself where he had…the deep shadows cast by the surrounding trees served to mask his movements from Nicholas.

Just then, the moon sailed behind a bank of clouds, plunging everything into darkness.

Nicholas tightened his grip on the sword. Generally, he was not in the habit of using swear words, but that did not mean that he didn't think them. At the moment, his mind was using a number of choice expletives to describe the situation. Turning slowly, he carefully scanned the darkened surroundings, staying alert for an attack from any direction.

Abruptly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a faint telltale glimmer to his left. He automatically brought the sword up, slicing through the air in one swift motion, knocking the darts aside before any of them could hit him.

The next instant, however, he felt something wrapping around his arm. Thin and taut, biting sharply into his skin.

What the—?

The moon made its reappearance, once again bathing the landscape in its pale light.

Fine steel wire gleamed silver in the moonlight, circling his arm and severely limiting his movements… Apparently skilled in using more than just darts, the assassin was holding on to the other end; the wire wound firmly around his glove. The man pulled, causing the wire to tighten painfully; cutting deeply into flesh. Blood rapidly welled up to the surface...

The former Seiryuu seishi's expression hardened, suspecting that the next wire would probably go around his throat. It occurred to him to sever the wire using the sword, but there would be nothing to stop the assassin from trapping him again with another. That would not do…Nicholas had much better plans in mind for the other man.

Ignoring the pain, he grabbed the wire, barely giving it a thought as it cut into his fingers…and yanked on it with all his strength, causing his opponent to stumble towards him at the unexpected force. Taking advantage of the fact that the assassin had been rendered temporarily off-balance, he launched himself forward…

"Damn you…" she hissed, charging at the man in front of her; throwing every ounce of stubborn will she had into her attack. Her eyes glittered with her determination to save her brother; the flecks in her hazel eyes flaring gold in anger.

A second later, Miaka flew backwards, landing painfully on her side as the assassin casually backhanded her as if she was no more than a minor annoyance. Behind him, Keisuke lay in an unconscious heap after a valiant attempt to shield her from their assailant, only earning a hard kick in the stomach before being slammed into a tree for his efforts.

White-hot pain exploded in her shoulder and radiated through the rest of her body, almost causing her to black out. Coloured spots danced at the edges of her vision and every nerve screamed in pain when she tried to move.

NO! For Oniichan's sake…I won't lose!

Gritting her teeth against the agony, she forced her bruised muscles to obey her commands.

Slowly and defiantly, Miaka climbed to her feet.

Nicholas saw the look of belated realisation and fear flash through the assassin's eyes right before he plunged the blade between the man's ribs. There was the juicy squelch of metal sliding into flesh as the enemy stood immobile in front of him. Then, as if in slow motion, the assassin toppled over backwards, impaled through the chest with a sword.

He easily shook off the now slack wire, paying little heed to the blood slowly dripping off his fingertips and smeared across his palms. He felt no joy in taking a life, but at the same time, he found it hard to feel any guilt or remorse over killing an assassin.

Him or me…I would always choose me.

The heavy thud of a body hitting the ground with considerable force snapped his attention back to the battle still going on around him.

He watched Miaka struggle back to her feet…noticed the way her shoulder hung at an odd angle… saw how her face had turned deathly pale, the skin stretched tight and pinched with pain. He could imagine the immense pain she must be in, but still, true to her nature, she was refusing to give up without a fight. With a dislocated shoulder no less. She's going to get herself killed one of these days, the little idiot...

Without warning, a wave a dizziness and fatigue enveloped him, almost causing him to lose his balance and stumble. What was wrong with him? He'd felt perfectly all right a moment ago…

The minor mystery was solved as quickly as it had appeared. The wire, his mind identified. It must have been coated with some sort of sedative. Even now, the cuts on his arm and fingers were starting to smart as the foreign substance seeped into his wounds.

A curse sounded behind him, and he whipped around, just in time to see Taka getting jabbed in the neck with a dart.

Suddenly, his vision blurred slightly and Nicholas blinked, trying to clear it. Damn…The sedative was working its way into his bloodstream, and he was starting to feel its effects. He was not in any condition to continue fighting…he would not stand a chance even if he tried. He had no wish to share the same dubious fate as Taka, and he had even less desire to put his life in the hands of this particular group of assassins.

He saw the Taka stagger unsteadily.

He turned back to the Suzaku no Miko. They had to get out of here. NOW.

Even before Taka slumped to the ground, Nicholas had closed the distance between himself and Miaka, grabbing her uninjured arm and forcefully dragging her away through the dark forest.

They were running through the darkness, and it was inevitable that she would stumble and fall as her foot hit a patch of uneven ground. Even so, he did not let go of her. Barely missing a beat, he roughly yanked her to her feet; mercilessly forcing her to keep up with his own pace, his hand never relinquishing the painfully tight grip he had around her arm.

They could hear the assassins close on their heels…It would only be a matter of time before they caught up.

Suddenly, Nicholas veered sharply to the right, ducking behind the trunk of a large tree and pulling her with him. Under the unforeseen circumstances, neither of them noticed the rather embarrassing seating arrangements in their hastily found hiding-place. They were crouched on the ground in the dark; her back was pressed firmly against his chest and she was practically sitting on his lap…

The assassins passed them…

…and stopped abruptly. With a gesture from one of them, the group spread out to search for the two escaped targets.

Miaka was trembling with pain and exertion, completely oblivious to the highly compromised position she was in. Her ankle throbbed insistently, but that was nothing compared to the pain emanating from her shoulder…the entire left side of her body felt as if it was on fire.

"We have to go back! We can't—" her frantic words were cut off when he clamped a hand over her mouth. She felt his grip on her tightening as he anticipated her next move.

Sure enough, she began to struggle weakly against his hold. Nicholas had known that she would never voluntarily leave her brother and Taka behind. His lips thinned in annoyance and more than a little exasperation. Not only was she aggravating her shoulder injury with her struggles, there was also the very real danger that someone might hear them.

As she continued to fight him, she tasted the coppery tang of blood on her tongue and vaguely wondered where it had come from. She was quite certain that it wasn't hers. However, before she had time to think about it any further, she felt a sharp pain at the back of her neck.

Then, her entire world went black, and she felt nothing at all.

Notes:

1) I noticed that poor Taka/Tamahome was being pushed into the background in every chapter, and that we don't get to see what goes on in his mind. Taka is constantly being overshadowed by Nicholas/Nakago, simply because Nicholas is more assertive and doesn't seem give a damn whether he offends anyone or not.

2) Nicholas is still manipulative, but now does it for very different reasons. He makes Miaka angry, so that she will have something to focus on other than the ghastly memory of the hanging corpse. As Taka accurately observes, "…and he does a much better job of protecting her, even from herself…"