Author's Notes: Part two, in which Nakago struggles with Soi as she continues to slip out of his grasp.
Warnings: Mild gore, sexual situations.
Spoilers: Episode 45.
Obligatory Disclaimer: I own no part of Fushigi Yuugi, particularly the characters Nakago and Soi.
Beloved
Day Two: Fade Away
Facing the dawn of the second day was perhaps on the most difficult experiences Nakago had ever encountered. Though the sunrise promised renewal and reawakening to many, it only bestowed Nakago the grueling torture of watching Soi slip away into the dark realm of eternity.
The doctors had worked all through the night, their life-saving rhythm beating in time with that of the passing hours. Finally, sometime around the fifth hour of the morning, they had stopped the bleeding. Nakago could vaguely remember the measured step in which the doctors had guided him back to the medical tent where she lay, her body bandaged and unconscious from blood loss.
She was still asleep, resting in his personal quarters. When the personnel had attempted to take her into one of the sick rooms, he had vehemently denied their pleas; if Soi were to die, she would not do so buried among common soldiers. She deserved better than that.
"And exactly what is it that she deserves?" said his inner voice bitterly, "To live again so you can only push her away?"
Before he could answer his own thoughts, a greeting sounded from outside the tent. Silently, he walked over and opened the flap, greeting the old physician who stood there with a nod. The elderly man slowly walked over to where Soi lay, her scarlet hair loose and strewn across the pillow, falling over her shoulders and framing her face. He placed a hand over her forehead gently, checking for fever. His hands moved over her body, removing her bandages, feeling the wounds, testing her reactions, checking for infection. Nakago followed suit when the medic frowned at something he noticed on one of the wounds.
Finishing his analysis, he turned to the shogun with sad eyes. "How long has she been in this condition?"
Battling feelings of hopelessness, Nakago answered quietly, "About a day."
A forehead crinkled with worry. "She's showing signs of possible infection as well as trauma. Was she on the battlefield at the time of her injury?"
"She's a celestial warrior of Seiryuu," Nakago answered, as if that could answer any inquiry the man had, "Part of the war effort." His words were hollow in his own ears, devoid of emotion or worry. Uncaring.
The brow burrowed further. "That would explain the severity of the wound," said the doctor softly. Reaching out one cool hand, he placed it on the young woman's forehead, frowning at the heat he felt beneath his sensitive fingertips. "She has a fever," he announced.
"Is there anything you can do?"
The old doctor turned to face the blonde man fully. Gentle black eyes met harsh blue ones. Few people could read Kutou's implacable shogun, his thoughts an enigma to all who attempted to reach beyond the pale features to the cold heart that beat slowly within. But the good doctor had spent a lifetime gazing into the eyes of men as they died; he had seen every emotion reflected in glazed, emotionless gazes, and he could see that same despair now.
Slowly, he turned his gaze back to the girl. By any normal standards, she should already be dead. The wound was deep, the blood loss heavy, and there were already signs of infection appearing on the wound. If she hadn't died already, the time would be very soon. His features softened, and he wondered idly if the two were lovers. Those with someone to leave behind were always the most reluctant to release the hand that held them down.
He tore his gaze from the girl, returning to the emotionless shogun. How he pitied the young man. "I have some salves that may help." He paused. "I will do what I can."
She could be called beautiful, if he still knew the meaning of such a word. She could steal a man's breath with her ethereal presence, could bring an entire empire to its knees with the use of her powers; if she had truly wanted, she could have even possibly controlled him.
But she wasn't like that. Wasn't like him. Rather than conquering and pillaging, she had opted to gain his trust first before ever making a move. She had bothered to know him. Love him.
He once had a dream where he was alone, nobody around to comfort him. There had been darkness all around, no sides or walls to find his bearings, no halls through which he could travel. There had only been the evil behind him and the wide, yawning canyon before him, beckoning him to its death, ready to consume his soul. When he reached out a hand, darkness grasped him, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't escape.
There had been only she as he awoke. Because no matter how hard he tried to escape the darkness, when it came to the night, there was only she, his self, and the unreachable stars. And he was comforted by the thought that he at least her soul was still with him.
He was there when she finally regained consciousness midway through the second day, his hands folded on his lap, his gaze focused on something outside the yawning window nearby.
Her voice was faint, weak when she first opened cracked lips to speak his name. "Nakago-sama..."
Forcing down the sensation of glee that rose within him, he turned to her with wavering eyes. "Soi...So you've awakened."
"Nakago-sama?" Her eyes searched the room dazedly, her entire body alight with fire. Everything was spinning, the world shifting beneath the body. It stopped as one fair hand dropped against her forehead, cool and refreshing against the backdrop of her fever. "Nakago?"
Had she just called him by informal name? He pulled his hand away. "Your fever's getting worse. I'll get the doctors."
He stood up to leave but was stopped by her insistent hand. "Where-Where are you going?" Her body wrenched suddenly in pain, the pain manifesting as she moved, and she cried out in pain. Soi choked, coughing on the blood that rose in her throat as her chest heaved. Falling back, her head hit the pillow hard, her body throbbing with pain. "What happened to me?"
"You were wounded in battle," he said simply, his back still turned to her, "I had Suboshi bring you back."
"You saved me."
Halting, Nakago whirled around to face her, gazing at her in disbelief. "It was not I who brought you back. Suboshi brought you."
"Yes," she said softly, closing her eyes, "But it was you who believed that I could live." Soi smiled at him, a sight that was like watching a rainbow form in the brilliant, blue sky. "You saved me. Thank you."
It was then that Soi dozed off into unconsciousness, leaving Nakago with only the echo of her voice and the reality of the dawning sun.
"You are to take the remaining squadrons and lead them to the southern camps. There, I want you to regroup and prepare for my orders to attack. Is that understood?"
Vice-shogun Hatsui Manoto nodded in accordance to his leader's words, carefully following each word that fell from the blonde man's lips. This was the very first time his skill had ever been tested; before this, the head shogun had been able to take care of all procedures. The thought left him somewhat giddy and lightheaded. Finally, two years of lagging behind as only a messenger were coming to an end.
But his victory over disuse was dampened by the listless tone in which his shogun issued the order. General Nakago was one apt to apathy, but now more than ever did his tone seem hollow and dispassionate.
Hatsui wondered exactly what had happened on the battlefield to cause Kutou's most powerful general to fail in his mission. Rarely did the man show fault in any area of skill, a characteristic that made him both a fearful and beloved general. After all, there were only so many men in the Kutou empire who could keep every loyal soldier as disciplined as they were as Nakago was able.
It was a strange paradox, upon reflection. Though the shogun was a descendent of a ethnicity Kutou's people loathed, he had the loyalty of thousands of men beneath his heel. No man dared to betray the name of Kutou while under the watchful blue eyes of their foreign leader.
But the light was fading, if there had even been a light in the first place. Nakago finished his instructions with a bare movement of a hand, a dismissive wave to show Hatsui that their meeting was over. The young man nodded slightly before bowing respectfully and leaving. On his way out, he noticed that one of the torches was beginning to flicker, its flame dying. Reaching up, he grasped it, intending to extinguish the fire.
"Stop. Let it burn."
Hatsui jumped at the sound of his shogun's words. Almost guiltily, he turned to face the shogun. "Yes, Nakago-sama?"
"It's nothing Hatsui, just let the torch alone."
"I was just going to replace it. I mean it was going to--"
"I said leave it. A flame dies out soon enough without the hands of others to smother it." As an afterthought, he added softly, "And once a flame dies, nothing can replace it."
Hatsui left the torchlight burning.
The moonlight shown full in the darkness of the night, a solitary beacon of light in the consuming blackness. Her features were pallid in the illumination of the stars, red hair stained a soft magenta.
She was...breathtaking.
Cautiously, he approached her. As if she were crystal too easily shattered, he reached out a hand and lightly pressed against her temple. His fingers came back slick with her sweat, results of her burning fever. Her labored breathing was overwhelmingly loud in his ears, like a storm's wind rushing at him full speed.
She was so...weak! Never before had he been by her side when her ki was so low. Sure, there had been the times after their sexual encounters where she had dozed off next to him, her energy depleted after transferring power to his body, but that had been all right. He had accepted it because he needed it, and if she were willing to suffer the consequences, then he should he worry?
He was worried now.
It wasn't fair. Nakago was the one who desired death, not Soi. Not the beautiful, loving young woman who still had a heart. Who still knew how to live. How to love.
Soi had awoken once more that day. And she had gazed at him with that same hopeful, grateful stare as she had before. And he had been there, looking back at her with the same incredulous look he had given her in response. Again.
Nakago had remained silent through the entire episode while she spoke deliriously of her past and how he had saved her. There had been no words to comfort her when she painfully spoke of the struggle to win his heart, and his soul was shamed to hear her repeat softly the same words of love she had when the sword first struck her.
Sliding his fingers past her forehead, Nakago cupped one side of her face in his hand, studying the pale features carefully. He had to do something...anything to save her! After all, he had never failed before, so there had to be some way, some method of igniting the flame within her.
Muscles in her cheek twitched when his fingers trailed softly over the contours, and Soi's soft, grey eyes fluttered open weakly to take one last look at her shogun. "Nakago?"
The melody of the night played softly in his ear, and a soft breeze fluttered the tent flap nearby. Soi felt the wind flutter over her body, its touch cool and refreshing to her overheated body. She reveled in it, tilting her head to deeply inhale the scent of flowers that wafted in from the tent opening.
She choked harshly as the air caught in her throat, specks of white and crimson harshly ejected onto the sheets around her. A thin trickle of blood slipped out from the corner of her mouth. Nakago, who had not turned his gaze away through all of this, thumbed her lips gently, wiping the fluid away gently.
"Nakago-sama...thank you." She smiled faintly at him again, a sight that wasn't quite so grand in the darkness of the night.
Standing, he pulled away from her, his hands fiddling with the fastens of his armor. She had given so much to him; it was only right that he at least give something in return. He was at a loss for what to do, yet he refused to fail! There had to some way to help her...
Soi moved uncomfortably in the bed, shifting so that the robe fell back slightly, revealing smooth, pale skin. He swallowed. There was still at least one way...
Struggling with his armor, he pulled it off, undressing quickly as the glittering stars reminded him of the waning hours. Dropping the last of the garments, he stood bare in the moonlight for a moment, naked and vulnerable, before placing one foot on the bed, swinging his body over and straddling her thighs.
Leaning forward, he grasped her face with both hands, pulling her eyes to his. For a moment he simply gazed at her, silver-blue to grey-green. She returned his piercing stare with a curious look, though her pupils emanated no fear, only trust for whatever path he chose to take.
"Nakago?"
"I want to help you," he said flatly, cutting her off. Dipping his head, he pressed his mouth against hers before she could resist.
Breathless, she looked at him with sad eyes. "But you've already saved me..."
"I want to help you," he repeated again, tonelessly, and carefully moved his hands to her waist before leaning into kiss her again.
"Nakago..." But he was already moving, and as always he became her everything, dulling her senses, making her forget.
The wind blew harder outside the tent, voice raising to salute the pale and sickly moon with one mournful howl as the stars burned brightly against a backdrop of darkness.
The lone candle lighting the room trembled, and then it went out.
1.) No! Soi hasn't died quite yet, so don't be disgusted by the sexual references. Nakago is desperate; if she's still conscious enough to use her Bochuu than he'll help her.
