Chapter 19: Darkest Before The Dawn
The cold metal bit sharply into his flesh, and blood immediately gushed from the self-inflicted injury. He did not even react to the pain…Nicholas had already slipped into the dark, quiet state of mind where nothing could touch him, and he hardly felt anything anymore. It was as though he was detached from his own body, a spectator of sorts, watching himself go through the motions but not really in control of his actions. Everything he was doing was instinctive; he was acting on a knowledge which he did not know he possessed, like an automatic reflex.
He carefully pulled her into a half-lying, half-sitting position, bracing her small, slender frame against his chest and lifted her shirt to expose the ugly puncture wound marring the smooth flesh. He put his arm around her waist, unconsciously caressing the creamy white skin of her stomach before firmly pressing his bleeding wrist over the laceration; his blood to her blood, his skin to her skin…
Closing his eyes, Nicholas concentrated on willing his chi into her quickly weakening body; at the same time using his psychokinetic abilities to force his own blood into her veins…
Tasuki watched with morbid fascination as the man who had tried to kill Miaka now tried to save her life. A maelstrom of grief, anger and confusion raged inside him, each one fighting for dominance. He did not know what to think anymore, so he did the only thing he could do…he prayed. Please Suzaku, please let her live…
Chichiri opened his mouth, then closed it again, unable to believe his own eyes. Nani! What in the world…? It cannot be! He wanted to look away as his face started to heat up and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. The scene before him, despite all the blood, was extremely intimate. Miaka and Nakago…he could feel their life-forces beginning to merge, almost like they were—... He had never thought anything like this to be remotely possible, given the circumstances. During his travels as a wandering monk, he had once heard of a way to manipulate and combine chi in the manner he was witnessing now, but from what he knew, it could only be achieved when…
…When a man and a woman made love using the Bochuu-Jutsu technique.
The blue-haired monk's attention was jerked back to the two people in front of him when Nakago abruptly stood up with Miaka in his arms. Nakago appeared considerably weakened and his skin had turned the same milk-white as Miaka's. The pupils of his normally pale blue eyes were wide and dilated, making them appear almost black from a distance. The blonde Seiryuu seishi wavered slightly, almost dropping the unconscious girl before he regained his footing once more. After pumping all that chi and blood into Miaka…it's amazing that he's even managing to stand, let alone carry her, Chichiri realised with growing alarm.
The glow from the kokoro symbol on Nakago's forehead flickered, then steadied and flared, brighter than ever. The blonde man seemed to be putting everything he had into one last burst of energy…
Blue chi, like the hottest part of a candle flame, shimmered iridescently around him and his fragile burden. By the time Tasuki and Chichiri realised what was happening and dashed forward, it was already too late…because a split-second later, both the Suzaku seishi found themselves staring at empty air when Nakago suddenly disappeared, taking Miaka with him.
He set her down gently on the bed, and turned to the cowering physicians who had just come in through the door.
"If she dies, you die," he told them coldly in a flat monotone, his manner making it absolutely clear that he meant every single word.
With that, he turned and walked out of the room.
That had been only an hour ago, but it seemed much longer. He'd brought her back to the room they had supplied him with for his personal use…back inside the palace where Kutou's finest imperial physicians could treat her. He knew it was futile though…the damage was too great; she was bleeding to death internally, and nothing could be done about that. A human body was never meant to be subjected to such abuse, not even one as amazingly resilient as hers. Even with his powers, all he had managed to do by sharing his blood and chi with her was to buy her a little extra time. He began to wonder if it had been a wise decision, prolonging her pain when the humane thing to do would be to let her go peacefully. Humane…I'm thinking of her like a terminally sick pet that needs to be put down. He felt no humour at the acerbic mental observation, only an acute sense of frustrated weariness… and along with it, grim acceptance of the inevitable.Perhaps he was being unforgivably cruel for forcing her to remain here, hanging between life and death.
Looking down at his hands and clothes, he realised that he was covered with blood…most of it hers. He knew that no matter how many times he washed his hands, even if he scrubbed them raw, they would always be stained with the essence of her life…and it would haunt him forever, in his dreams, in every waking moment…
Nicholas closed his eyes, feeling light-headed and nauseous from the blood loss. He knew he was on the verge of passing out…as it was, sheer force of will was the only thing keeping him upright. A short distance away, down the hallway, he could hear the best doctors in the kingdom working frantically to keep one small girl alive…
Of course, they were not doing it because they cared anything for her, but rather, they were doing it in an effort to preserve their own miserable lives. Not that it really mattered anyway. In the end, the result would still be the same.
Lifting his hand, he stared intently at the deep cut across his wrist and deliberately curled his fingers into a fist. It hurt like hell. Good. Harder and harder, he squeezed, until the wound reopened, and blood began trickling down his arm in thick, scarlet rivulets. He was furious; at the Suzaku no Miko, at himself, at the entire world in general. Why hadn't her good-for-nothing seishi stopped her? Wasn't it their job to protect her? Why couldn't she have left things well alone? She had no business coming back. He didn't understand what had driven her to such extremes and he wanted to wring her little neck and shake her like a rat for doing something so insanely foolish…and now, because of him, she was going to die.
So many people would grieve for her.
He didn't care to be among those individuals; he wanted to hate her, to be angry at her…those emotions were more easily handled than sorrow or guilt…and far less upsetting. He slammed his fist into the nearest wall, and the sound of the masonry crumbling around his hand was accompanied by the sickening crunch of his knuckles splitting. He welcomed the pain and the temporary distraction it provided. Unexpectedly, something warm slid down his face, the sensation taking him by surprise. Reluctant to see the irrefutable evidence of what he already suspected, Nicholas slowly reached up to touch his cheek…
His fingers came away wet. The thin film of moisture clung to his fingertips, and he stared at it for several long seconds, Tears…? That was strange, he had thought he'd forgotten how…
Nevertheless, it seemed fitting. He remembered how she had forgiven him; how she had shown him genuine compassion and cried for him despite everything he had done to her. His lips twisted into a bitter smile as he reflected on the irony of the situation. The one time he had somehow found it in himself to return the favour…she wasn't even around to receive it.
It was a pity. This would be his last gift to her.
Only a matter of time now.
It was happening even as he stood here thinking about it, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it…in truth, he wasn't sure if he wanted anyone to stop it. He was reverting back into the state he had been in before he'd befriended her, becoming cold and distant… the things the Suzaku no Miko hated most about him. Nicholas could already feel the tendrils of ice beginning to wrap themselves around his heart, shutting off all emotion and locking them behind impenetrable walls once more. Soon, there would be nothing left inside him to feel. There would be no grief, no pain…no regret. He simply would not be capable of it any longer.The icy chill was advancing relentlessly, and the last part of his soul, the part of him which had finally started to realise what it meant to be truly human, would freeze over completely the moment she died…
And this time, it would be permanent.
He had seen everything happen through Taiitsukun's mirror…had watched in horror, powerless to do anything, as Miaka did the unthinkable…and all for the sake of a man who had tried to kill her. A pain he had never known had overtaken him then, making him feel like someone had stabbed a knife through his heart and twisted it. It had taken a great deal of begging, but somehow, he and Keisuke had managed to convince Taiitsukun to send them here…
Keisuke...
Deeply shaken and frantic with worry, there had been the initial tears and shocked disbelief, but he now seemed to be holding up well after what had happened to his sister, and Taka admired his friend's emotional fortitude.They had arrived to find two grim, subdued Suzaku seishi outside a room, as though still trying to stand guard over Miaka as the doctors treated her. Keisuke had immediately taken up the vigil beside them, anxiously waiting for any news of his sister; hoping for the best and fearing the worst. Taka had wanted to stay with them, but found himself headed towards the room at the end of the hall. Instinct told him that he would find Nicholas there. There was something he badly needed to know; he'd had his suspicions for quite a while now, and there was something he had to see for himself…
He leaned against the wall, appearing more calm than he really felt and waited for Nicholas to emerge from the room. He'd started when he heard the sudden, muffled crash of something hitting a wall, but resisted the urge to go in to find out what had caused it.
Minutes passed. The door opened and the blonde man exited with a characteristically blank non-expression on his face. Taka had anticipated as much from Nicholas, but what he had not exactly pictured was the sight of the badly-torn knuckles of one hand bleeding freely; the blood dripping unheeded to the floor in a steady stream. Pushing himself to his feet, he stepped in front of Nicholas, blocking the other man's way. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment; stormy violet meeting flinty silver-grey…
Abruptly, Taka drew his arm back and swung his fist in a vicious right-hook…straight at Nicholas' jaw.
The Seiryuu seishi's head snapped to one side when the strike connected, but that was about the only reaction Taka got. Nicholas did not even wince or make a sound at the pain the impact of the blow must have caused and merely stood very still for the space of several heartbeats before slowly turning his face back to regard his assailant with a flat, unemotional stare. A thin trail of crimson trickled down his chin from the corner of his mouth and a harsh red mark graced the pale skin where Taka had hit him.
This is it. I will find out, once and for all…So what will it be, Nicholas?
All the cards were finally laid out on the table and there was no turning back. Whatever occurred next would answer everything which needed to be answered. Taka returned Nicholas' arctic gaze without flinching, for once not the least bit intimidated; until the other man suddenly side-stepped him and unconcernedly brushed past him without any comment, as though the last minute or so had never happened."Why didn't you evade my punch?" he asked softly. He knew full well that Nicholas had seen it coming. He was also aware that the Seiryuu seishi could have blocked or countered his attack—could even have killed him—without any effort, but instead, the enigmatic man had simply stood there and allowed himself to be hit.
Nicholas paused in his walking, but did not dignify the question with an answer.
"I thought so. It's really true…" Taka said in a low voice, not making any move to turn around to look at the person behind him, acknowledging the fact that the tall, impassive blonde would not accord him the same courtesy.
There was no response to his statement. When the dark-haired former Suzaku seishi finally turned around, Nicholas was gone and Taka found himself standing alone in the hallway. He had not even heard the other man leave. The blonde shogun had not said a single thing or tried to defend himself throughout the entire exchange…but then, words had not been necessary.
His silence, in itself, had already told Taka all he needed to know.
The doctors had left, long ago having given up hope. They were probably packing as many of their possessions as they could carry and trying to get as far away from the palace as possible before their shogun decided to make good on his threat. The only people who remained by her bedside were the ones who knew her, who loved her, and who would mourn for her. Nicholas wondered if he had any right to be there at all, since he only qualified on the first count…
He stood at the back of the room, partially hidden in the shadows. No one seemed to notice him, and he did nothing to draw attention to himself. Miaka's brother and her seishi stood around her, various expressions of anxiety, grief and distress etched on their faces. It was admirable, how they had rallied together to put up a united front even though they all knew what was going to happen. That alone, deserved credit. He had failed to realise it before, but he recognised now that it was this unity which gave them the strength to weather any storm…and he suspected that if he were to be completely honest with himself, he would find that he actually envied them.
Turning, he noiselessly departed from the room. Nicholas had no desire to be there when the warmth left her body; did not wish to see her go still and limp as a rag doll when the last breath left her lungs. Put simply, he didn't want to watch her die. The Suzaku no Miko was lucky to have clung onto life this long. He could feel her spirit through the tenuous psychic link he still shared with her and knew she was fighting desperately to stay alive. However, she was already tiring rapidly…
This was one battle she would not be able to win, no matter how determined she was. She would finally lose…everyone did eventually, just some sooner than others. She had already given everything she had to give and had honourably discharged her duty as Suzaku's priestess. Soon, the phoenix god would have to choose a new miko.
Allowing his feet to take him where they might, he walked uncaringly through the palace grounds until he found himself back at that fateful spot under the flowering tree in the middle of the imperial gardens. The tree had seen much violence, a silent witness to all the events which had transpired here. The trunk was badly scarred and burnt in many places, the blackened wood providing a sharp contrast to pink petals and green leaves. The branches were covered with a profusion of delicate blossoms, but as beautiful as they were, this would be the last time the flowers would bloom.
The tree was dying…just like her.
The cold night wind swept through the garden, causing the branches to sway and sending flower petals swirling around him. There was nothing else left to do. He calmly stared up into the black, starless sky with blue eyes which had turned a hard, uncompromising silver…and waited.
He was due to appear onstage in less than five minutes. From inside his dressing room, he could hear the deafening screams from his fans. They were all out there, waiting to see Andy Wong, pop star and entertainer extraordinaire. His lips quirked upwards as he tied his long, flowing hair into a low ponytail. All in all, life had been kind to him, blessing him with good looks and a highly successful music career. He genuinely loved what he did for a living, but—…The smile slowly faded. Sometimes he wondered if there was something more, something beyond what he knew. Of late, he'd been having strange dreams and brief flashes of people who seemed so familiar, but try as he might, he had been unable to place any of them anywhere.
He froze, staring into the mirror on his dressing table with wide, disbelieving eyes. For one moment, he could have sworn he'd seen…It had been his reflection in the glass, and yet, not him. The image he had glimpsed had looked regal and dignified, wearing richly embroidered robes fit for an emperor…
Emperor…?
Suddenly, Andy gasped and staggered backwards as a feeling of inexplicable grief overtook him. It felt as if a part of his soul was being ripped from him and crushed. He managed sit down on a nearby chair before his knees gave way, and found himself looking into the mirror at a man who had gone deathly pale and who had tears streaming down his face…He almost did not recognise it as himself.
"Miaka…" The word came out as a hoarse whisper as he grieved for a girl he did not know and whom he had never met.
Nicholas was aware of it the instant it happened. He knew the feeling all too well. After all, he'd been through this before…several times, in fact. Why should this time be any different? Except, of course, for the sharp wrenching of his soul as the bond they shared was severed…he had not realised how used he'd become to the feel of her presence in his mind. He supposed all good things had to come to an end, or so he clearly recalled a certain evil deity saying. It was over, and he accepted it because it was the only option available to him besides denial…he refused to lie to himself. Not for her, not for anyone.
The Suzaku no Miko was dead.
Without a moment's notice, crimson light shimmered into existence around him, and he saw that his own body was beginning to fade. Somehow, he was not surprised. He understood that Suzaku was sending him back, now that he no longer had any reason to remain in this world.
Life would go on like it always did, but no one would ever know how much it had cost him.
Notes:
1) Erm…please don't hurt me? Ducks to avoid a flying pitchfork from the angry mob I was suffering from a particularly nasty case of writer's block and was in a really evil mood when I wrote this. I may have killed Miaka off, but the story isn't over yet! I have another one of my (infamous) plot twists up my sleeve, and I guarantee that there'll be a happy ending…for some people anyway…
2) Rampant spoilers—…Oops, looks like it's a little too late for that. (sweatdrop) For those people who did not know prior to reading this: Hotohori was reincarnated as Andy Wong, a famous singer from China.
3) If Nakago seems to be a cold, uncaring prick in that he's taking everything so calmly, it's because it is in his nature. His emotions are shutting down, either by choice on his part or because it's an unconscious defense mechanism to protect himself.
4) Finally! Taka redeems himself. He isn't a coward and he's not weak. See? He can stand up to Nicholas if he wants to…and he actually drew blood! (I know one of my friends will be very happy when she reads this…she's a Taka/Tamahome person!)