Chapter 20: Advent Of The Phoenix

Miaka slowly opened her eyes, almost afraid of what she would find once she did. Drawing in a breath of surprise, she stared at her surroundings in astonishment…she was not sure what she had expected, but it certainly wasn't this.

She was standing in an immense field full of wild-flowers, stretching out all the way to the horizon; as far as the eye could see. This is the afterlife? What happened to all the doom and gloom? The thought was sobering, reminding her of the reason she was here in the first place. I'm…dead, and it's all over… She looked down at her feet, saddened by the fact that she had left everyone she had loved behind. Family, friends…

She missed them already.

"Not quite how you pictured it, is it?" a quiet voice asked out of nowhere.

The unexpected intrusion startled her, causing her to jump at least a foot in the air, and she whirled around to confront the source. She was about to snap at the person for nearly giving her a heart attack, but her eyes widened when she saw who it was and the angry retort died in her throat. "Suzaku…seikun?" she stammered uncertainly, taking in the sight of the handsome red-haired phoenix god. At first, she vaguely registered that something seemed different about him, but it took her several more seconds to realise what exactly it was that was different.

Unfurling from his shoulder-blades were a magnificent pair of wings, like those of an angel. Only, instead of being pure white, his wings were a fiery crimson; the glossy feathers themselves seemed to have an iridescent quality about them which caught the light and reflected it. Kirei…Miaka couldn't help thinking in awe.

"Hello, my Miko." Suzaku greeted her serenely.

Miaka fidgeted with her hands, not knowing what else to do. Are dead people supposed to feel nervous? she wondered inanely. By all rights, his appearance should have comforted her, but somehow, it only served to upset her further, driving home the fact that she did not belong in the world of the living any longer. She turned her head, trying to hide the tears which had managed to escape her eyes at the realisation. "It's over…everything's finally over, isn't it?" she muttered almost inaudibly, her tone heavy with tired resignation.

"Do you want it to be?"

The question caught her unawares, throwing her for a loop. For a second, Miaka thought that she had heard him wrongly and stared at the god in confusion; her mouth falling open when she saw that Suzaku was smiling. His wings spread wide open before sweeping forward so that the very tips of the silken feathers tickled her cheek in a whisper-soft caress. "I have never regretted choosing you as my Miko, and you have never disappointed me," the red-haired god said as he regarded her with glittering golden eyes.

Miaka felt her heart beginning to race, "I…I don't understand…" she whispered haltingly, scarcely allowing herself to believe the hope which had re-ignited within her, burning as hot as the flame in Suzaku's shrine.

Suzaku silently held out his hand to her, as if inviting her to dance.

"I have a gift for you."

Chichiri and Tasuki stood around her with their heads bowed, tears running freely down their faces; each locked in their own grief, mourning a girl who had been their Miko and their friend…but more than that, she had been family to them.

The Suzaku seishi gasped when they suddenly felt an enormously powerful surge of chi. It knocked everyone backwards into the far wall. Keisuke and Taka were momentarily stunned by the impact, but recovered quickly enough to see that something extraordinary was happening.

Four pairs of red-rimmed eyes stared across the room at the bed where Miaka's body floated in mid-air, suspended by an invisible force. "What the—…" Keisuke rushed forward before anyone could stop him, but was forced back by a blast of intense heat. He staggered back, tripping over a chair and falling heavily on his rear.

However, pain was the last thing on his mind as he continued staring helplessly at the scene in front of him as red-tinged flames enveloped his sister's limp form. "MIAKA!" he screamed desperately, wanting to put out the fire before it consumed her lifeless body entirely…she had been already strangled and stabbed, she did not need to be burned as well! He struggled fiercely to get to her side when he found himself dragged back to a safe distance by Taka and Chichiri.

The flames burned with an eerie silence, growing brighter until everyone was forced to shield their eyes or risk being blinded. Finally, with the intensity of an exploding star, the light seemed expand and swallow everything in its path; the entire room, and everyone in it…

The last traces of mystical red light faded from his vision, and Nicholas found himself standing in one of the last places he had expected. With a cynical mental shrug, he supposed that he should thank Suzaku for being considerate enough to send him straight back to his apartment, thus saving him the trouble of having to get back here on his own.

Sweeping a critical eye around the room, he noted that it was exactly as he had left it. How long had he been in the Shijintenchisho? Knowing that time passed more slowly here than in the universe of the four gods, he attempted to calculate the length of his absence…

"Less than a day has gone by," someone said, answering his unvoiced question.

He slowly turned around, already knowing the identity of the speaker even before his eyes met his visitor's golden ones. The phoenix god stood in the middle of the living room and interestingly, on a hand-woven antique oriental rug which he had payed a fortune for at an auction. Regarding the red-haired intruder expressionlessly, Nicholas did not reply immediately. He was tired; of phoenixes and dragons, of fickle gods who brought nothing but sadness and disappointment. He told himself that he should have known better when he'd thought that Suzaku, out of all the gods, would be the one who would actually protect it's own miko. Either way, it didn't matter anymore…the Suzaku no Miko was gone, and angry accusations and finger-pointing were not going to do her one bit of good. Wanting nothing more than to be left alone, he was about to tell his uninvited guest to get the hell off his carpet and out of his house. Once upon a time, he would not have even considered doing such a thing, lest he incurred the wrath of a god, but now, he found that he simply did not care anymore.

"Fate often hands out surprises, but it never makes mistakes," Suzaku remarked almost gently, "I am sure you know that things always happen for a reason."

"I understand perfectly," Nicholas interrupted calmly before the other man could say anything more, "Fate decreed that she die, and therefore she did. People have a saying here: There are two things you cannot escape from in this world…Death and taxes," he allowed his mouth to curl into a bland, decidedly sardonic smirk as he made the statement in the coldly analytical way which conveyed complete emotional detachment. "Now if you would excuse me, I believe it is time I got back to my own life."

He hoped that the god would take the hint and leave. Didn't Suzaku have anything better to do? Like that all-important task of choosing a new Miko and ruining the unlucky girl's life? his mind supplied wryly. Making no attempt to hide what he was thinking, Nicholas pointedly ignored the room's other occupant and turned towards the clear glass pane which spanned the wall from the floor right up to the ceiling. The view it afforded him was a spectacular one…that of Tokyo city at night, with the countless pinpoints of light glittering like multi-coloured gems against a backdrop of black velvet.

Nicholas could see the red-haired god's reflection clearly in the glass, but he forced himself to look past it into the darkness outside. All the same, he tensed unaccountably when he felt Suzaku fixing him with a probing stare.

"Miaka has served me well. She was a true priestess of the phoenix," the god said softly, tilting his head thoughtfully to study the blonde man who had been the Suzaku no Miko's most recent—albeit reluctant—protector…Nakago also by far the most stubborn. An odd, almost secretive half-smile seeming to pass over Suzaku's countenance for an instant. Never forget that, he whispered cryptically into Nicholas' mind. One day, you will understand.

When Nicholas finally chose to turn his gaze back inside the room, Suzaku was nowhere to be seen, and everything was as it had been…except for the single red feather resting on the exact spot where the phoenix god had stood.

Tasuki was the first to recover, and cautiously made his way across the room. It was a mess…The walls and floor were scorched and bore unmistakable burn marks. The bed was no better; the once-fine sheets and silk hangings were destroyed, leaving only scraps of half-burnt fabric…

Every step he took drew him closer to where his miko had lain in her last moments. He was dreading the sight which would confront him, not knowing if he would be able to take it, but he forced himself to keep moving forward. He stepped around some charred debris which used to be a table…and froze. It can't be… Impossible… Tasuki began to tremble and barely managed to stagger the last few steps before fell heavily on his knees.

Lying peacefully amidst the rapidly cooling ashes was the body of a girl poised on the very threshold of womanhood. Her eyes were closed and her russet hair was fanned out in delicate waves around her head…her skin shone, pale and perfect against the blackened surroundings. It was as if she had been untouched by the flames which had reduced everything around her into a brittle cinder.

And even as he watched, her chest slowly rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

To Tasuki, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Turning back to his companions, he met their eyes with fierce joy and awestruck reverence glowing in his own. He did not try to contain the tears which slipped down his cheeks as he realised the enormity of what they had all witnessed…An old legend proven true and turned into reality…

A miracle.

An answer to a prayer.

"Miaka is…" he tried to stop his voice from shaking and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, "She's alive."

She was standing on the bank of a large mountain lake, and it was a place she did not recognise. Snow lay thickly on the ground, soft and pure white, the tiny ice crystals glittering in the weak light. Out of curiosity, she took a step closer to the water's edge, and realised that the lake had just recently frozen over. She could see the shadowy shapes of fish darting about just under the ice, and knew that it wasn't very thick…perhaps only a few centimetres. It would not hold her weight if she tried to walk on it.

Suddenly, she was filled with an odd sense that alerted her to the fact that she was being watched. She turned, wondering who she would see in such a desolate place. Her heart filled with hope and her breath escaped in a near-silent gasp of surprise when she saw it was he who was watching her. Standing perfectly still, as if he were a statue curved from ice, he was gazing at her with unnerving intensity. Blonde hair and eyes the colour of icicles glinted in the watery light, just enough to distinguish him from the otherwise colourless surroundings.

He did not move when she approached him, and simply waited for her to reach him. She looked at him carefully, noticing that his skin was as pale as the snow which lay on the ground at their feet. As pale as death. Shuddering at the thought, she immediately pushed it from her mind, refusing to think about its implications.

"Nakago…" she whispered, instinctively reaching out to touch his hand.

What she felt caused her to recoil in alarm. His skin was as cold as ice.

"Suzaku no Miko," he addressed her formally in a flat monotone, taking no notice of the brief contact of her fingers and her horrified reaction thereafter. His eyes held hers in an unblinking stare which seemed to bore right into her soul and turn it inside out.

She forced herself to ignore the hurt confusion she felt at his impersonal greeting. Didn't he know how glad she was to see him again? Doesn't he even care? He'd spoken to her, looked at her, as though she was nothing more than a stranger to him… However, first and foremost on her mind was a fierce concern for his well-being; she would deal with the inexplicable pain which tore through her heart later. He might pay little regard to his own health, but there was no way she was going to allow the insufferable jerk to freeze to death! "Nakago, you…you're cold!—"

"So I've been told," he interrupted her before she could get any further; the corners of his pale lips lifting slightly in a thin, humourless smile.

She gritted her teeth in frustrated anger at his matter-of-fact response, aware that he'd known what she had really meant but had instead chosen to deliberately misinterpret her words. Nevertheless, even warped as his answer was, it held nothing but the truth…after all, he did keep everyone at arm's length by being aloof and arrogant. Her mind worked to think of a suitable retort, then spluttered to a halt when she suddenly felt his fingertips gliding over the side of her face almost tenderly. Even barely touching, the feel of his chilled skin on hers made her shiver involuntarily…

His hand abruptly dropped back down to his side, as though he'd just realised what he had been doing. Something seemed to flicker in his eyes for a split-second, like a tiny spark on the verge of being kindled into a fire…but just as suddenly, it was snuffed out, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. His blue eyes iced over, the already pale colour bleaching into the same dull grey as the overcast sky above their heads.

Without another word, he silently moved past her. Stopping at the edge of the lake, he stared out across the flat expanse of frozen water at the distant, mist-shrouded shore on the other side.

She felt an irrational fear gripping her as he slowly half-turned so he could regard her with those cold, frighteningly empty eyes; his handsome face completely devoid of emotion. Icy wind blew across the lake, ruffling his blonde hair and chilling her to the bone. The distance between them seemed to increase with every passing moment, until he appeared to be impossibly far away.

She began running towards him, screaming his name, desperately trying to reach him as a single word echoed in her heart…Goodbye.

He walked out onto the thin ice—

"MIAKA!" A distant voice yelled over and over again, coming closer, louder…

She jerked awake, finding herself back in her room with her brother beside her. Keisuke was holding her hand, worried concern written across his features. Miaka realised that she was trembling uncontrollably, and that her throat was sore.

Keisuke brushed away the tears which streaked her face, mute sympathy glowing in his eyes, "It was just a nightmare," he murmured softly as he folded her into a comforting hug, gently rubbing her back to soothe her as she clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder. He briefly turned his mind back to how Chichiri had transported all of them back to Mount Taikyoku after Miaka had miraculously come back to life. They had stayed there for a few more days while she regained her strength until Taiitsukun—with the help of Tasuki and Chichiri—had sent them back into this world.

However, ever since then, Miaka had been tormented nightly by dreams of a certain tall, blonde man. Most of the time, she did not remember those dreams, but it pained Keisuke to hear her whimpering in her sleep every night, mumbling the former Seiryuu seishi's name, her face twisted into an expression somewhere between fear and heart-breaking sadness. [She was brought back from the deadhe remembered Tetsuya saying one day[But minus a part of her soul…

This had already been going on for several weeks, and it was taking its toll on her. Despite Keisuke's and Taka's best efforts, her cheerfulness had dimmed noticeably. He knew that she tried very hard to keep up a façade of care-free happiness for everyone's sake, unfortunately, nothing could hide the fact that she looked increasingly drawn and tired. It was as if she was slowly withering away, a little at a time. Yui and Tetsuya were doing their best to locate Nicholas, but with no success. The blonde man had never divulged any personal details, and they had no clue as to where to start looking for him. For all they knew, it was entirely possible that he was no longer even in Japan. Kami-sama, please let us find him soon, Keisuke thought grimly, she can't carry on like this much longer. The nightmares seemed to be getting progressively worse… Tonight, he had woken up when Miaka had started screaming Nakago's name.

He looked down at her as she fell into a troubled, exhausted sleep against his shoulder and sighed inwardly. Gazing out of the room's window at the darkened sky sprinkled with stars, he could only hope for the best. Where the hell are you, Nicholas?

His eyes snapped open, and he stared blankly at the ceiling of his bedroom. It had been weeks, and the dreams were getting worse. They refused to leave him…they were there every single time he closed his eyes, forcing him to relive the entire debacle, but it did not just end there…each time, each scenario would be slightly different, although the conclusion would always be the same. In the realm of his dreams, he had killed her hundreds of times, in hundreds of different ways. However, Nicholas did not consider them to be nightmares. Not anymore. Nightmares shocked, frightened and unnerved the dreamer, but he'd had them so often that they had ceased to illicit any sort of emotional response from him except perhaps jaded indifference. Even then, they prevented him from sleeping more than a few hours at a time.

He immersed himself in his job, working continuously to keep his mind occupied and staying inhumanly long hours in his office to avoid going back to his apartment; he ate only when he absolutely needed to and slept even less. Slumber did not come easily to him, and when it finally did creep over his senses, it was never pleasant. Therefore, the solution he had come up with was, simply, not to sleep.

Nicholas knew that the method he was using to deal with the problem was extremely flawed. It was, at best, only a short-gap measure, but until the dreams exhausted all the countless possibilities his subconscious could conjure of her death and finally left him in peace or until he could purge all memories of her from his mind, it would have to do.

Miaka did not know how much longer she could keep up this charade of incessant cheerfulness. Suzaku knew, how she had tried…she had tried so very hard and she felt so tired. Everyday, she would see the unspoken pity in everybody's eyes, and it was driving her insane…most of all, she missed him. She had not realised how used she had been to hearing the deep sound of his voice making cutting remarks, or seeing those enigmatic blue eyes regarding her as if they could look into her soul…

She walked listlessly past all the shops along the street, past all the bright lights and glittering signs. Once upon a time, not so long ago, she would have been excited at the prospect of spending her allowance on clothes and food, but now it no longer seemed to hold any allure for her.

Maybe it was just because she was finally growing up. After all, she was seventeen years old, and she had seen and done more in the last two years than most normal people would in an entire lifetime. Things were different now…she was no longer the same person she had been two years ago when she and Yui had first discovered the world inside the Shijintenchisho. All these experiences had changed her; she had made so many new friends, fallen in love…

Love…

All at once, she felt that nagging sensation that someone was watching her, and along with it, the thrill of recognition. Could it be…? Lifting her head, she stared across the street, searching desperately for what she hoped to see beyond all else…

Darkened hazel eyes met pale silver-blue.

Miaka stood frozen in place, unable to stop the tears of overwhelming joy which somehow managed to force themselves to the surface. Nakago was all right; he had made it back to this world safely, and now, finally, after so long…she had finally found him again.

Notes:

1) Sorry minna, for the long wait between uploads! Like poor Nicholas, I've been buried in work (although for entirely different reasons), and have had barely enough time to BREATHE, much less write fanfiction…

2) Everyone should know by now that Miaka is like a persistent fungal infection, you can't get rid of her so easily and she keeps coming back! evil smirk Surely no one expected the dear girl to STAY dead, hmmmm? There will be a further explanation on why she was ressurrected in the next chapter, courtesy of Nicholas' superior intellect and reasoning skills! Please stay tuned, and I'll try to crank out the next installment ASAP!