Author's Notes: See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.
Love, Life, and Death By Annie-chan Chapter Fourteen: MaladyHôjun lay on his stomach on his bed, trying without much success to get to sleep. They had gotten back to Kônan-koku safely, but he had not been conscious for the trip. Thinking back on it, he realized how lucky they were for the teleportation spell to have gone through to their intended destination with him unconscious. If a spell falls out of the control of its caster, it can take on a life of its own and do who knows what. It was pretty safe to assume that not being awake means losing control of the spell. All he could remember before he had woken up here was Miaka's horribly pained voice.
Sayonara…Tamahome, kept running through his mind. Sayonara…Tamahome…sayonara…Tamahome…
Great Suzaku, no da! he thought. How can she take this, no da?! She very nearly couldn't take this. He had been told that she had tried to drown herself earlier that night, but was saved by Hotohori. The mere thought of drowning nearly brought up memories from his past that he had done so much to bury. He quickly shoved them down before they could surface fully. He didn't need to think of such things now.
To tell the truth, he had been worried, not just about Miaka, but about Hotohori. He had sensed tender feelings from the emperor directed toward the Miko. Now that Tamahome was gone with almost no chance of ever coming back, what would happen?
Oh, Hotohori-sama, he thought, don't go after Miaka-chan, no da. You don't belong with each other, no da. He dared not voice that thought aloud, for, friends or not, he knew that he had no place to tell the emperor who he can and cannot choose to court. Still, he had sensed something between Miaka and Tamahome before Tamahome's brainwashing. It felt much like the bond between himself and Kôran, only from an outsider's point of view. He had no doubts in his mind that Miaka and Tamahome were soul mates, and they belonged to no one else, even with Tamahome possessed as he was. Now, with Miaka scared and confused over what her brain is telling her—stay away from him—and what her heart is telling her—go to him—she may come to think she loves Hotohori if the emperor happens to reassert that he loves her as well.
More memories tried to rise…
No, no da, he ordered himself. I will not think of what happened six years ago! That has no place in this! The similarities between the Miaka-Tamahome-Hotohori triangle and what happened six years ago in Shôryû did not pertain to every aspect of what was going on between the Miko and two of her Seishi, but the slightest hint of a love triangle anywhere and at any time always dredged up unwelcome memories of that rainy day. He squeezed his eye shut. He had heard that the reason for Tamahome's brainwashing was that Seiryû no Miko was also in love with him. Another triangle.
Shut up! Hôjun thought, mentally raging at his own thoughts. With the pain in his back and the whirl of thoughts in his mind, he was never going to get to sleep!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Wake up!!!!!!!!! his senses screamed. Danger!!!!!!!!!
Hôjun startled awake and tried to push himself up off his stomach before he remembered he was injured. He gave a choked cry as extreme pain lanced though him, and dropped back onto the bed as gently as he could.
Beside him, Tasuki jerked awake as the same urgent warning interrupted his sleep as well. He had come in to talk—the bandit leader had to have been extremely bored to initiate a conversation on his own accord—but had apparently gotten very little sleep the night before as well, for he had dropped off to sleep at almost the same time Hôjun did. He jumped out of the chair he was in, but stopped his charge for the door almost before it had begun when he heard Hôjun's cry.
"Chichiri?" Tasuki asked tentatively as he smoothed back damp strands of hair from the mage's suddenly sweaty forehead to get a look of his eye. It was red from fatigue and shiny with tears welling up from the pain. "Daijôbu ka?"
"Ha-hai, no da," Hôjun managed, though his body did not agree with him at all. "Ju-just moved too quickly, no da." Hôjun could barely move at all without hurting himself, and had to lie on his stomach all the time for obvious reasons. Standing was completely out of the question. Mitsukake had said that several vertebrae and ribs were in varying degrees of fracture, anywhere from cracked to almost crushed.
Hurried footsteps approached outside the door, along with the feeling of a very angry Hotohori. Tasuki, though he didn't know which of the others it was, not having been trained to identify individual ki signatures, ran to the door and opened it.
"Heika-sama!" the bandit cried to the emperor a little ways down the hall. "What's going on?" Hotohori was holding two swords, and he didn't look happy in the slightest.
"Stay with Chichiri, Tasuki!" Hôjun heard Hotohori nearly shout. "There is an intruder in the palace, and we do not know if he brought others with him!"
"Oi!" Tasuki called as Hotohori continued down the hall, disappearing around a corner. "Damn it, he left," he swore, walking back in the room and closing the door again. He'd been ordered to stay there, and Hotohori looked like he was about to kill anybody who disobeyed his orders. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the Seishi on the bed. "Chichiri! What the hell's the matter with you?!"
Hôjun was shaking visibly, and a look of horror was on his face. He knew perfectly well who that intruder was. He could feel the strange ki that was and was not Tamahome. The bloodlust flowing off the Seishi champion froze Hôjun straight to the bone, and he couldn't even lift his head off the pillow anymore.
He felt two battle auras blaze up brilliantly. He heard the torrential rain outside his window near his bed. He could feel the fury mixed with betrayal ricocheting between Tamahome and Hotohori in the pavilion. It was all too similar. Hate…love…fighting…rain…betrayal…bloodlust…no! Nonononono! Stop it! Stopstopstop! Memories were surfacing unchecked now, and he could remember every gruesome detail of that day six years ago. He turned his face into the pillow and let the tears come. Hotohori-sama…Tamahome-kun…for Miaka-chan's sake, stop! Please stop! His body was tensing up, his back protesting loudly but unnoticed.
"Oi! Chichiri!" Tasuki gasped when he saw Hôjun. "Get a hold of yourself! What the hell is wrong?!?!?!" He placed his hand on Hôjun's shoulder, and nearly shook him. He stopped himself at the last minute, remembering Hôjun's injured back. Nevertheless, the weeping mage cringed away from the touch.
"Ya-yamero!" Hôjun whimpered against the pillow. "Get away from me!" There was only one person who could touch him when he was like this without scaring him away, but she was far away, separated from him by a large mountain range and many miles of terrain.
Tamahome's ki suddenly shuddered from some life-threatening injury. With it came shock and horror from Miaka and Hotohori, accompanied with a flurry of mixed emotion from Nuriko, Mitsukake, and Chiriko. The mental onslaught slammed into Hôjun, causing him to tense impossibly, pulling something out of place in his back, forcing a near-howl from his throat. The physical and spiritual pain combined with the mental hurricane of roiling emotions was just too much…
Tasuki's eyes widened as his wounded comrade suddenly pushed himself violently to his knees, eye wide and unseeing, mouth open and gasping, tears soaking his reddened cheeks. "Shimatta!!!!!" he swore as Hôjun suddenly toppled over onto his back, nearly rolling off the edge onto the floor. He jumped onto the bed and tried to get a hold of his suddenly writhing and screaming friend. Gods damn it!!!!!!! What a time to have a seizure!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "Chichiri!!!!!! Stop it!!!!!!! You're hurting yourself!!!!!!!!!!!" The blue-haired mage heard nothing.
Hôjun's uncontrolled shrieking caught the attention of several guards that were nearby, and they suddenly burst through the door. Tasuki looked over to them, nearly loosing his grip on the bucking Seishi. "Get over here, damn it!!!!!!!! Don't just look at me!!!!!!!!!!!" A sharp pain stabbed through his hand. "AH!!!!!!!!!! DAMN IT, CHICHIRI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Hôjun had sunk his teeth, by either accident or design, into Tasuki's right hand, and he wasn't letting go. Tasuki prayed to all the gods that his fellow Seishi was not rabid. Blood dripped down Hôjun's chin, running down his neck and soaking into his shirt.
The guards rushed forward, galvanized into action by Tasuki's impossibly loud voice. The grabbed onto Hôjun's arms, legs, torso, anything to keep him from flailing about like he was. They managed to severely hamper the seizing in his body, reducing it to a violent quivering and a rock hard tenseness. His body was trying. The gods know his body was trying to get free, pulling with all its strength against the restraining hands. The screaming continued as he finally relaxed his grip on Tasuki's hand, only now they were frantic and terrified, not mindless and agonized.
It seemed like forever before the maddened Seishi finally heaved up, almost taking Tasuki and the guards with him, then collapsed back on the bed, completely limp. Tasuki could feel tears welling up in his eyes as he turned to the guards.
"Ge-get help!" he stammered, his voice choked. "Get the nearest medic!" They started to edge away, eying the man lying on the bed cautiously. Hôjun wasn't even breathing hard. "GO, YOU STUPID BASTARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Tasuki exploded at them, jumping off the bed and making to attack. The guards quickly fled, looking for a doctor. Tasuki turned back to Hôjun, tears running down his face. "Gods…Ho-how could this happen to you?! How much more are you hurt now?!" Hôjun was still alive, as testified by his slight breathing. But…that may not last now. Tasuki knelt down by the bed, laid his head on his arms folded on the edge of the mattress, and cried.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Well, his spine wasn't broken, thank Suzaku," Mitsukake said, putting his bandages and salves away. "But, it is much more damaged now, having been twisted and bent like it was during the seizure. And, his broken ribs were torn out of place again. Judging by the sound of his breathing, they cut into his lungs, though apparently not too badly. We can only hope they didn't get his heart, as well."
Miaka and her Seishi, including the now exorcized Tamahome, were gathered in Hôjun's room, all worried sick over him. He lay again on his stomach in the bed, his face still and untroubled. He had yet to wake up.
"Will…will Chichiri-san be all right?" Chiriko asked softly, clutching his flute in case Hôjun should wake up and be in pain. He could do nothing to help at the moment, but perhaps he could calm the ailing mage if the occasion arose. The kind-hearted fifteen-year-old had broken into tears when he saw Hôjun crumpled on the bed with Tasuki crying at the bedside. He had come to love and respect Hôjun like the father he had lost years ago, and he was deathly afraid of losing his light-hearted companion.
"It seems like he'll be all right," Mitsukake assured him, and everyone in the room looked somewhat relieved. "I'm guessing that he would be dead right now, but his Seishi nature has kept him alive. It's about the same as with Tamahome. He would have died on Hotohori-sama's sword if he didn't still have his Seishi powers buried inside of him."
Tamahome unconsciously put a hand to his abdomen over the already fading mark his emperor's sword had left and scowled, silently vowing to make Nakago pay dearly. The damned shôgun's curse was what made him try to kill Miaka, Chichiri, and Hotohori in the first place.
"I can heal Chichiri no earlier than tomorrow, as I've already used my powers today for Tamahome," the healer went on. "Then, if you want, I can heal that hand of yours the next day, Tasuki."
Tasuki looked down at the bandage Nuriko had wrapped around his right hand. "Nah," he answered, a bit of his normal spice making its way into his voice again. "This isn't bad enough to need it."
Mitsukake nodded and continued. "I'd like at least a few of you to help me tomorrow. I've never had to heal someone so badly injured, and it would help tremendously if some of you could transfer some of your ki to the healing." Tamahome, Hotohori, Nuriko, Tasuki, and Chiriko immediately agreed.
"Ano," Chiriko said as he approached the bed as quietly as he could, as not to disturb Hôjun. "I can play for him right now, even though he's not awake. It may relax him a little."
"Good," Hotohori said kindly, laying a hand on the youngest Seishi's shoulder. "You do that, Chiriko." He turned to the others. "Minna, let us leave them alone for now."
Everyone, save Chiriko, filed out of the room after casting one last glance at their still companion. Chiriko sat lightly on the edge of Hôjun's bed and raised the flute to his lips, playing out a soft, comforting tune.
To be continued…Author's Notes: I don't know what possessed me to make Hôjun start seizing like he did. It was just a split second decision that I didn't really have time to think about until I had it typed. For you yaoi supporters out there, Tasuki is NOT in love with Hôjun. He's just worried sick over what he had just witnessed. I'd cry, too, if one of me best friends just launched into a screaming fit with no warning. And, yes, I know that grabbing onto somebody having a seizure is the dumbest thing you can do, and can end up hurting them and you, but they may not have known that at the time this takes place. Anyway, send any comments that you have to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu! I must say, this chapter was nothing like I intended it to be. *shrug*