Author's Notes: The final moments in Soi's life, not to mention the shortest chapter yet. ;-; Soi will not be going out with a bang after all.

Warnings: Sexual references, swearing, major character death.

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


Beloved

Day Three: The Final Light

He was staring at the ceiling blankly, his breathing finding its even rhythm once more. A layer of perspiration glistened lightly over his frame, a trickle of sweat slowly sliding down his forehead as his body returned to his relaxed state, his body saturated in a faint blue light.
Nakago felt almost ill from the duty he had performed mere hours ago. The cold knowledge of his actions formed a iron pit in his stomach, his body trembling and weak. Gods, what was he fighting for anymore?
Had he done right or wrong in keeping in her alive? Could the feel of warm flesh caressed by the aura of carnality really ignite the fire he felt dying in her? He could recall to easily the harsh sound of her shallow breathing mixed with his quiet grunts of exertion, the feel of her too-warm body pulsing beneath his as he performed a duty too terrifying for words.
Rolling over, he could catch a glimpse of her soft, supple body glowing softly in the illumination of the moon, the stars spiraling through the kaleidoscope of the sky to descend into her soul. The faint blue light that still clung faintly to his skin had long since faded on Soi's, her body too overwhelmed by the strain of both performing the art and accepting his ki all at once.
It was worth it, he reassured himself, She wants to stay as much as I do.
He repeated the words over and over again in his mind, as if the passionate mantra for the living flesh was the only prayer his soul had left to grasp. Like a dying man waiting for the cold, clasping hand of Death to dip his gnarled fingers into the fire of his being and dispel the warmth with an idle flick of the digits, he lie in the darkness, mind clouded with the pain of the inevitable.
When would the suffering end and his soul be free?
Turning his head slightly, his eyes fell on the sight outside his tent. Through the flap, the stars burned dimly as night clung desperately to its final hours of life.
Faded. They were all faded stars. Even Soi.
He carefully lifted a hand and traced the edge of her face. Why he had allowed such beauty to go unrecognized while she had been in his care? Why had he allowed her to suffer as she had, living every day to throw her arms around him as he pushed them away just as quickly? How had he idly stood by and watched her shrivel away to nothingness?
"Because you are already dead," a voice said dispassionately, "Because you are dirty. Because you are evil. Because you are everything yet nothing. Because you bother to live when your own fire has already gone out."
Hate, love, fear, evil. Four letter words that defined his condemnation.
"You," he choked out softly as he ran his fingers across her cheek. Pulling her close, he nestled his face in her soft hair. "You...are my damnation."


It was right before that dawn that he felt her begin to fade away, her soul slowly slipping away from her physical form to join the spirits carried by the clouds.
Waking with a start, Nakago grasped her, shaking her awake as she slowly slipped away. "Soi! Damnit, wake up!"
The woman opened one grey eye tiredly before giving him a lazy smile. "Yes, Nakago-sama?"
"Just where the hell do you think you're going?" He fought the sob that rose in his throat at her lack of obvious distress at dying. He grabbed her roughly and pulled her to him. "Do you think I did what I did last night for nothing?!"
She looked at him with sad, pitiful eyes, and his words halted in his throat. There was something akin to pity there, a disappointment in his behavior, an expectation that had been subjected and failed. She had given him a mission, and he hadn't returned, traveled the world and learned nothing.
One small, pale hand made it to his face. "Oh, Nakago-sama...I thought you understand. I thought you knew." Tears brimmed in her eyes, sparkling on her eyelashes.
"Understand what," he breathed.
She smiled up at him again. "Why do you keep me here? I'm useless now, in your way. You have a battle to win. A nation to defeat."
Firmly taking her hand, he pushed it away. "You were never in the way. And the battle can wait," he replied harshly.
"But why?"
"Because I..." He faltered, turning away. "I..."
"Nakago-sama."
He forced himself to look back down at her. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

"For what?" he demanded angrily, frustration evident on his features.

She smiled up at him, eyes shimmering. "You were always so stubborn, always determined to be strong. But we're all so weak. Even you. You don't have to do this. You don't have to let down your walls for me. Oh, Nakago, don't you understand?"

The purpose of her words sunk in, and suddenly he pushed her aside, setting her down gently but firmly on the bed, refusing to hold her any longer. The wall caved in again, swallowing his heart.

He was not weak.

"I already told you how I feel," he responded coldly, "You aren't the one who can make me happy. Stop deluding yourself."

The cruel comment struck its mark, and Soi took a breath, pulling back from him, the smile fading. "But then why are you here?"

He studied her detachedly. "Because you are a warrior of Seiryuu. Because we can't afford the loss."

"But we've already summoned Seiryuu..."

"The priestess needs protecting."

"Lady Yui is no longer here--"

"It means nothing! Damn you woman! From the moment I met you you've been a plague. Following me, serving me, doing whatever I wished, attempting to love me when there is nothing left to love! When will you figure out that I don't care!"

The tears were falling freely now, the hot liquid glittering as it slid down her pale visage. She choked, bringing up blood, the iron crimson now mingling with the salt of her tears. She was ruined, broken. Weak and useless. And in front of Him no less.

But she was not defeated.

Catching her breath and halting her tears, she said in a wavering voice, "I refuse to believe that."

"You were always a fool that way," he answered carelessly, "Believing where there was nothing left to believe in."

The look Soi gave him then made him feel as though she took his words and crumpled them beneath her aching hands. "You're right; I'm not you. I'm not the fool." Turning pained eyes to the doorway, she smiled, noting the faint, pale light appearing on the far horizon. The day had almost come to take her away. Time to end the bitterness. "We made it to the dawn," she whispered softly.

Interest piqued, he met her eyes again only to clench his fists as he saw the resignation in her eyes, an acceptance of the inevitable. Prior cruelty forgotten, Nakago was suddenly gripped with the utmost feeling of terror, the enormity of what was about to happen slicing through him with the efficiency of a sumurai blade. "Soi..." He grasped her hand, suddenly desperately. No. Please don't die...please don't die...I never meant...I never said...

Amazing how he always worried about things after they were done.

Her face suddenly brightened at the touch of his skin, her hand tightening around his. Soi closed her eyes, breath growing more shallow each passing moment. One last time she opened them, gazing up at him with a queer look, half-fond and partially unreadable. "Thank you," she softly. Leaning back, she closed her eyes one last time.

Don't. Don't die.

"Now are you satisfied?"

He held her until the dawn came, when her breathing stopped and her hand fell limp in his own.

Nakago stormed past the tents of his soldiers, yelling for them to awaken and prepare for the journey ahead. They would head out towards Kutou tomorrow to regroup and gather supplies before invading Konan once more. The emperor would not be pleased, but Nakago would render that worry futile when he confronted the man upon their return.

Tired soldiers and the like stumbled from their tents, bleary-eyed and clumsy. Their shogun took no heed of their condition, simply ordering for them to armor up and prepare for training. Eyes widened at the demands, the command seemingly ludicrous after being so horribly defeated less than two days earlier. After all, there were still wounded to care for.

But no soldier questioned his command. Not after they caught a glimpse of hateful, silver eyes and cold determination sketched across taunt features.

Hurriedly they dressed, rushing out doors to line themselves for inspection. Nakago focused little energy on them, only sending a demand for what exercises to take place. Few turned a resistant eye to his demands, fewer still bothered to consider it.

Something was afoot in the camp of the Kutou battalions, but nobody was willing to lend a voice in curiosity or inquiry.

So they battled and struggled against the implacable shogun and the demons he brought with his own heart, fighting exhaustion and the heat of the Konan sun, wondering desperately when the call to arms would finally end.

And above it all, the sun rose like the flames of the abyssal pit, rising higher and higher, consuming the men and their leader, a conflagration of such magnitude that no water could douse its rage nor empty of it the despair that fueled it, rising, rising until there was no escape, and the flames consumed the souls of men everywhere and burned away the innocence.

And then there was nothing.

During the first hour after he had returned, when his eyes were greeted with the sight of her limp, fallen form, he paced his tent angrily, hands folded behind his back. His bare feet made no sound as they softly padded against the grass floor, making impressions in the grass as he continuously tread upon the same spot over and over again.

His body was covered with sweat from the midmorning heat, despite being clad only in breeches and a light shirt. Blonde hair was plastered to his forehead, rivulets of sweat running down his arms.

He was too warm, and she was too cold.

Too cold to still be of the fire.

In the fist hour, he struggled for understanding.

When the second hour came and passed, his helpless rage took the better of him. He shouted and yelled at her, demanding to know the reason for the despair and suffering within him, for the resurrection of emotions that he had thought died long ago. "Why," he would demand of the silent corpse, "What exactly did you plan on accomplishing?" His furious temper was matched only the heat of the rising sun.

In the second hour, he raged.

By the third hour, exhaustion and heat overwhelmed him, and he collapsed into a chair, a sullen look planting itself on his features. "Why," he would demand tiredly of her now, "Why did you bother?" His hand would stretch towards her in a semblance affection, only to be drawn back at the sight of her esoteric smile.

In the third hour, he tired.

Dropping to his knees, the fourth hour came with the stroke of the dinner bell, calling all to congregation. Now he rested his head on the edge of the bed, grasping her limp hand and squeezing it tightly. "Why?" he asked now through the blurry haze of tears, "Why did you leave me?"

And then he reached forward, pulling her to him with all the desperation and sorrow of a broken and lost child clutching a doll, burying his head in his hair and mourning as he had never known himself able.

On the third day, he mourned.

Beyond the shadow of the hills, past the desert and the sand and the fire, the sun set in the distance, crimson rays fading to blue and violent and indigo, the fire fading from the Earth and drowning it in darkness.

It was the end of the third day.

Nakago lay gazing at the ceiling of his quarters. Soi was by his side, her arm splayed across her chest, face set in a peaceful smile. If he tried hard enough, he could believe that this was just as any other night, and soon she would awaken, eyes gentle and affectionate, body ready for hands to shape and mold to his every need.

He could believe, if it wasn't for the blood. And the bandages.

And the cold.

And since Nakago was not a man of fantasies, he pulled away from her fallen form and existed the bed, leaving her amidst a sea of blankets, scarlet hair, and cool, midnight air.

His hard gaze studied the features of his tent coldly, taking in every detail and asset, before falling on the candle next to his bed. He had forgotten to light it before he went to sleep, so it was as cold and dark as the night around it, not even a wisp of smoke rising from its wick.

Eyes softened slightly before fading back to resignation of what the days to come would bring. There was a battle to be won, and he could not be bothered.

In the far distance, a cry rose in the night, a wolf howled at the lost moon, and creatures of the night rose together in voices of mourning for the loss of the sun. The day had ended, the dark curtain had dropped, and the candle had long since extinguished, as if it had never been alive at all.

In the middle of the black obscurity, a pair of blue eyes pierced the night cleanly.

"No Soi, I am not satisfied."

And the last flame extinguished.


Final Notes From the Author:

I really don't know what to say about this story. I can't explain what was going through my mind when I first began to write it, and I can't say exactly what made me continue it. By far, this has to be one of, if not the, most depressing story I've ever written. Cold and dark, it focuses on the feelings and aspects of characters that I don't think any of us really want to look at.

It hurt me to write this. Both emotionally and mentally. Mentally because it really stretched my ability to write (I'm still not too happy with Soi's death scene...I'll have to rewrite it someday.) at the age I'm at (15), and emotionally because, well, I just killed off my most favorite character.

But I wrote it, and despite the depression, I'm glad I did. This story has taught me a lot about what I'm able to do right now and what I still have yet to learn. I'm proud of it in many ways, but I also cringe at a few scene as well. It's definitely paradoxical at any rate.

I wrote this story because I wanted to explore Nakago and Soi's relationship and because I felt there wasn't much emphasis placed on it. It's understandable that it was meant to represent how quickly we lose the things we love without ever realizing it, but at the same time...it surprised. (Especially since in the anime, she wouldn't have died immediately where it landed. ^_~) So I wrote this story to explore what may have happened during the time Soi was dying and how Nakago may have reacted to see if I could pull it off.

I didn't, and I won't be able to for a few years, but it challenged and taught me. I understand Nakago a little better, not to mention Soi as well. (Though I'm unsure whether or not I kept them in character...please tell me.) However, this story has it's moments, and I hope you enjoyed reading it.

Because I enjoyed writing it, and I apologize for the delay in getting it out.

Now, go off and read something happier. ^_~

And never forget what it means to love.

-Chaotic Serenity