Author's Notes: This story was inspired by the novel "Beloved" (hence the borrowed name) in which the main character, a black woman of slavery, kills her own children so they won't have to live their life in bondage and later is forced to deal with the haunting memories of the past. A story that asks the question: What if Soi hadn't died immediately? A small alternate universe fic that follows the events that may have occurred if Soi had not died immediately when the sword struck her. (Note: That's the only AUish part of this story. Most of the story follows the canon afterwards.)

Warnings: Violence, major character death, sexual situations, swearing, etc, etc. Also, this story does take a small turn off the beaten path, metaphorically speaking.

Dictionary: All foreign words in this story are italicized.

-sama = suffix added to a name that represents high rank or importance
ki = spiritual or physical energy

Spoilers: Episode 45.

Obligatory Disclaimer: I own no part of Fushigi Yuugi, particularly the characters Nakago and Soi.


Beloved

Part 1: Injury


There was blood everywhere. Spurting from her wound, staining her clothes, flowing over her body and into his hands. His hands were covered in her blood. The sight was consuming, his attention drawn even from where Yui was apologizing to him.
He gazed at her trembling eyes, the usual glacial silver of his eyes fading to sky blue as shock and horror overwhelmed his form. Emotions he had thought forgotten ravaged his being, temporarily melting the ice around his heart to burn his soul mercilessly.
Nakago had known Soi capable of many things, a fact that he exploited frequently, but this...this act transcended all expectations, all he had ever known...
How could she still love him after all he had done?
The hand still grasping the reigns of his horse tightened as her dazed eyes found his own, the arm around her waist unconsciously pulling her closer. "Soi..."
She smiled faintly at him. "Nakago..." Her eyes grew hazy, as if recalling a memory from long ago, pupils dilating slightly, looking beyond him.
"Do you remember? When we first met seven years ago?"
Finally, she tore her gaze from the past and leveled with his once more. "Ever since that day...I...wanted to see you...And my final...service to you..."
"Ever since that time, you were the only one for me!"
Her voice was but a whisper now. "Nakago...I...love you..."
Three words spoken left him weak with unpronounced grief as he caught her falling body, the warmth of her soul tumbling into his own. No. No! This wasn't happening. He didn't love her, so she couldn't die. He didn't love her...
Desperately, he searched her body for some living entity left within her, for some spark of life to renew itself. His body jerked suddenly as he looked up at the last moment and dodged the arrow that went flying past his head, nicking his ear. Blood trickled down his neck, dripping onto the pool already culminating on his armor.
Lifting his head to look around, he suddenly froze as the body he grasped in one arm shifted slightly. Shifted? Dead people did not move. Tearing his eyes from the battle, he turned his eyes back down to Soi, and was shocked to find the barest traces of life still within her. Her candle was burning low, but her fire was still fighting for existence.
"Suboshi!"
The youth turned from where his gaze was glued to the struggling armies of Konan to Nakago. "Yes, Nakago-sama?" His eyes were bright with anxiety, the desire to battle the helpless Suzaku warriors evident in his features.
Nakago grimaced. The boy would just have to wait. Gently sliding Soi's prone form off his lap, he motioned Suboshi closer with one short command, "Take her back to the camp to the doctors. Now!"
Suboshi nodded fearfully, carefully taking Soi from the shogun, balancing the young woman in his arms. He hurriedly took to the horse Nakago grabbed from one of the soldiers, galloping off with Soi safely leaning into his chest as he rode.
Nakago finally turned his attention back to the battlefield. His eyes flickered over the scene before landing on Yui. The girl's forehead burned brightly with the sign of Seiryuu as she made another wish, one that obviously was not going to profit him in any way. It seemed as though his entire world were collapsing in the span of only a few moments...
Temporarily blinded by the brilliant light that consumed Yui's body, Nakago did not return his gaze to the area until his priestess was already gone, leaving him only with scattered petals to comfort his bleeding soul.
The defenseless Suzaku warriors were barely dots on the battlefield, much as he probably was, insignificant pieces in the great chain of being. A layer of ice glazed over his sky blue eyes, turning them to ice, as he found the fiery Tasuki.
There would be no mercy.


The sounds of death and dying were all around him, the sun a fiery angel sent to purge the land of its evil as it scorched the backs of struggling men. His silver mistress provided no effort to decrease the ranks of victims as her rapier tongue darted forth, seductively running her smooth hands along the hearts and throats of men before delivering them into death.
Nakago looked once at the stars as they appeared, hidden from the eyes of average men, quickly consuming the fires they horded so carefully to fuel his quest for blood.
By lifting one finger and summoning ki, Nakago managed to clear out another section of Konan's armies with one simple yet powerful, precise blast. The soldiers barely had enough time to scream as their bodies were consumed by the blue fire, souls sent hurtling into the next dimensional plane of being within seconds.
Nakago hardly blinked as he destroyed them, not bothering himself with the fact that he took some his own troops along with Konan. He would not have cared before, and he would not have cared afterwards, but since Soi's injury it was...different. Each drop of blood was a sip from the finest cup of wine, the cracking of bones music to his senses, the deaths of every man his blade took the greatest satisfaction.
He would yield to no boundaries of life or death. Seiryuu's greatest warrior would take his revenge on those who destroyed his world even if it meant going down in battle himself.
His eyes swept the entirety of the battle ground looking for any signs of Suzaku's warriors. The jangling gold of Chichiri's staff, the prominent ki of Konan's emperor and warrior, or Tasuki's fiery mane of hair.
Tasuki...
The shogun's hands clenched at the memory of silver on crimson, the feel of fading warmth collapsing against his chest, of hopelessness and despair as scarlet hair fell freely over his arms, contrasting sharply against the sight of blood.
It was Tasuki who had thrown the sword that had injured Soi, and it was Tasuki who would pay the ultimate price for harming her. His fingers burned with barely restrained energy, the black hatred nearly consuming his steady control.
Bringing his sword to bear once more, Nakago caught the soldier approaching him from behind, slicing the man nose to navel with one smooth stroke. Blood splattered over his already stained armor, the fresh red bright against the burgundy of old. He had left his horse upon spotting what he had thought was Tasuki in order to battle, but now he called the animal, mounting it with one smooth motion.
Scanning the horizon, he renewed his search for the Suzaku warriors. A fleeting image of red hair flew past his eyes, and Nakago tightened his hand on the reigns. Oh, he would pay...Nakago kicked the horse, urging it forward.
Suddenly, his travel was cut short by the cry of a soldier. "Reinforcements! Konan's armies have brought more men in!"
Whirling around, Nakago's blue eyes widened as a group of rag tag bandits began filing between the two armies and into the fighting. Anger flashed through him at the sight as they began to bring his men down, and his hand went instinctively to his scabbard. For a brief second, he shut his eyes, hands tightening on the reign before opening them to look on with renewed cold at those who dared to defy his power.
After all, he had promised no mercy, and Nakago was never one to break his promises...


He had returned as soon as the retreat had been called, Seiryuu's forces overwhelmed temporarily by the emergence of the bandit forces. A minor setback, but an annoyance nonetheless.
Presently, he was looking on as the doctors tended to Soi's wounds, his face devoid of any emotion. He knew the exact nature of their thoughts, of the doubts and fears that plagued their minds.
His command had been short and simple when he first spoke with the physicians analyzing her wounds: If she died, they would die.
The doctors scurried around fearfully, desperately trying to keep the young woman alive. It was an almost laughable effort, her wounds so deep and damaging that it was futile to even try reviving her.
But the celestial warrior, to the surprise of the doctors, remained on the very edge of life and death, as if she were at the edge of a cliff, clinging to the edge if only for the sake of another, the wide, yawning gap of eternal sleep opening beneath her hanging form, the door to her survival shrinking every passing moment.
Her shogun didn't seem to notice the hopelessness of her situation nor did he acknowledge her suffering spirit, her body racked with unending pain. He had eyes only for the doctors who trembled beneath his cold glances, who took intricate care not to allow their shaking hands to cause more harm to their patient, who ignored the cries of pain emanating from the other wounded. There was the only the young woman, the frosty gaze of Seiryuu's most powerful warrior, and the almost tangible presence of fear hanging over their heads.
Nakago wasn't quite sure why he allowed them to operate on her body. He knew it was a lost cause; he could already sense the tug of heaven's hand upon Soi's wavering spirit as her life force continued to slowly fade into nonexistence.
But Nakago had never failed before, and he refused to do so now. Seiryuu had already taken so much from him, so why did the dragon lord deem it necessarily to tear this last, fragmented piece from his shattered heart?
As always, there were no answers to the questions he asked himself, the only certainty he knew of was that he could do nothing more of worth hovering over the medics.
The sound of heavy boots turning and then receding was like the light salvation descending upon an sinful pilgrim's soul. Hands slowed their rapid pace, shoulders relaxed from their taunt positions, and overall feeling of relief swept the doctors of the Seiryuu camp. At the leave of their shogun, the five men all exchanged brief, fearful looks. They knew there was no hope for the young woman with red hair. They knew it, and they feared the outcome. Already, one of the medics was beginning to gather his possessions to leave before Nakago-sama accepted the knowledge that so blatantly rested before his eyes. The faithful remained behind to bear it.
Nakago's footsteps made little noise as they steadily walked through the undergrowth. He halted his progress only once to gaze at one of the torches outside the tent, his body hidden in the shadows. The wind blew hard from behind him, viciously attacking the flame, making it dance in the moonlight as it swayed once, attempting to stay alive.
He turned once at the sound of someone hurriedly moving past him. Recognizing the man as one of the doctors he ordered to take care of Soi, Nakago grabbed him by the collar demanding to know why he was leaving.
From behind his twisted body, the flame danced more violently, the wind tearing at its vulnerable core mercilessly. It flickered once, and then it went out.
When the man finally answered, claiming that Soi was better off a dead woman, Nakago killed him.


The moon was out. At least, that was the first time Nakago had bothered to take notice of it. His attention was focused more on the young woman spread out on the bed before him.
In a condition too damaging to risk further injury, Soi had been left behind in the medical tent by the doctors. She was unconscious, but she was still alive.
She was beautiful.
Amazing how things are taken for granted until they are lost.
His mother had been beautiful.
Eyes traveled the length of her, from the pale visage to the tiny feet, fragrant hair to dainty hands, curved torso to soft thighs. She was beautiful, yet she was dying. But she was his, and he would take care of her.
Because they were nothing more than candles in the wind, and the lights always went out too soon for him.
He had long lost the armor of earlier, clothed now only in casual clothing, white shirt open revealing pale flesh. Fair like her skin, now burning with fever. He covered her limp hand with his own trembling one. Was it possible for a person to feel so cold and so warm all at once?
Reclining next to her, he leaned his back against the pole of the tent, his hand still covering hers. She would be all right, he assured himself, he would take care of her.
A lone, solitary candle burned dimly in the corner of the tent, lighting his way, the flame trembling as a gentle breeze blew in softly from the east.
Nakago wondered just how much longer that light would be there to guide him.


1.) Yes, that is depressing. Deal with it; time will only make it worse. No, Soi has not died yet. Yes, people will get desperate. And yes, even Nakago will get shaken.

2.) Most of this story takes place