"The Last Wish" - continued from 9
~ ~ ~
"NANI?! She did WHAT?"
Nuriko offered a soothing smile, reaching forward to grab onto the younger man's shoulders. "Get a grip on yourself, Tama-chan," he said firmly, giving the dark-haired boy a brief shake. "She's all right now. The nurse looked at her and said she's fine. She just had some kind of panic attack or something."
A rustle of fabric from just behind the two made them turn.
"A panic attack?" Hotohori echoed with a slight frown.
Nuriko nodded, carefully releasing Tamahome's shirt and turning to face the approaching eighteen-year-old. Although actually a few weeks younger than he himself was, Hotohori was taller, broader chested, and carried himself with the strength and grace of a crown prince rather than a normal high schooler. He was clad in the same non-descript white dress shirt and black slacks as the rest of them were...but, somehow, Hotohori managed to look positively regal even in such clothing, long chestnut hair falling in silken waves over his broad shoulders, exotic amber eyes glittering with the soft light of the morning sun.
"Hai," the violet-haired boy replied, pushing aside the usual urge to run his fingers through that soft hair...just once... He shook his head slightly as if to clear it, forced himself to concentrate on what he was saying. Regaining his focus, he frowned, struggled to remember just what had been said. "She's been acting weird since last night, in fact. And, this morning..." He shook his head again, leaned his back against the locker-lined wall. "This morning, she acted like she didn't remember anything at all about...well, anything. She didn't remember she was going out with you, Tamahome...and, she didn't remember..." He trailed off, and his voice lowered slightly. "Well, about Kourin."
The other two were silent for a long moment, exchanging worried glances.
"Perhaps the stress of studying for her finals is getting to her," Hotohori offered after a moment.
Tamahome scowled. "Or, maybe the stress of eating enough to feed a small country is finally getting to her..."
Nuriko reached forward, gave Tamahome an obliging smack on the back of the head. "Whatever the case," he continued, glancing briefly around the corridor as if checking to see if anyone was listening in, "we should keep an eye on her, ne?"
Tamahome nodded. "Right. Nuriko--you've got gym class with her second period, don't you?"
Nuriko nodded. "Hai. Gym second, Art third, and Study Hall fourth. But, after that, I don't see her until lunch...and after that not until eighth period."
Hotohori cleared his throat lightly, leaning his back against the lockers just next to Nuriko. He gazed speculatively at the cool yellow paint of the opposite hallway wall, frowned slightly as he thought. "I'll see Miaka in seventh period."
"I'm in Home Ec with her fifth," added Tamahome. He gave a melodramatic sigh. "I get to be her cooking partner..."
Hotohori and Nuriko made appropriate sounds of sympathy.
Tamahome nodded, then, folding his arms over his chest as he continued. "But, I'll watch her then...and Nuriko, if you watch her second, third, fourth, and eighth, and Hotohori, if you watch her seventh...then, that's only first period--"
"Which she's already missed half of already," Nuriko interjected.
"--and sixth that we won't be with her," the dark-haired boy concluded. "That should do it, then."
Hotohori frowned slightly. "What exactly do you suppose we should be watching her for?"
There was silence for a moment. Realizing rather abruptly that the other two were looking to him for an answer, Nuriko coughed lightly, crossed his arms over his chest. "Anything unusual, I guess," he answered after a moment of thought. "The main thing I noticed was that she couldn't seem to remember things about the past...but, the panic attack was something...something different. I don't know. I guess just keep your eyes open for anything strange."
Tamahome sighed. "With Miaka...that's not gonna be easy."
---
"Ne, Miaka!"
The girl turned reflexively, smiled as she caught a glimpse of Nuriko fighting his way through the crowd to her side. A moment later, he'd managed to shoulder his way through the crowded breezeway and was walking beside her, the dark satchel he carried his books in hanging loosely from his fingers. The dark cloth bounced against his knees as he walked.
"Ohayoo, Nuriko," she greeted pleasantly.
Nuriko studied her for a moment, frowning slightly...then smiled, slung the books over one shoulder. "Ne, Miaka...feeling better?"
She nodded. "Un! Much better." Her eyes glittered. "The nurse gave me something to eat."
Nuriko laughed. "She doesn't still think you're bulimic then, I guess..."
Miaka blinked for a moment, wondering what he was talking about...then remembered, abruptly, something that had happened just before she went into the book. "Oh, hai," she recovered, smiling. "No, she doesn't think I'm bulimic anymore. She had some girl follow me around for a few days to make sure." She grinned. "Now, she just thinks I've got problems with eating too much."
The older boy blinked innocently. "Gee, I wonder why she thinks that..."
They laughed...and it felt good. Miaka strolled casually through the sunny breezeway, keeping far to the left to avoid the more frantic students dashing by to their classes, and Nuriko walked just beside her, one hand slipped casually into his pocket, the other still clinging to the string of his book satchel. She glanced up at him as they moved, the smile slipping onto her face almost before she realized it. It felt good, having him here beside her again. It had been so hard, going on after Nuriko died...so hard to get up every morning without the comfort of that grinning face nearby, so hard to force herself to move onward without those strong hands supporting her...along with the other seishi, of course. She supposed she'd never realized just how much she depended on him until he was gone...until all she had left were the memories and the metal of his bracelets on her wrists. She remembered putting them on for the first time, just before they entered the cave...remembered that they were still warm with the heat of Nuriko's skin, still warm with the echoes of his last moments of life. A flicker of her earlier fear streaked into her, and she felt the smile fading, the panic building within her again...then realized, abruptly, that Nuriko had noticed her stare and was frowning down at her, looking confused and a little worried.
"Miaka?" he asked quietly. "Daijobu?"
She looked away hurriedly, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. "Gomen, Nuriko," she offered, staring quickly at the opposite wall, trying to avoid that soft violet gaze. "I was thinking about something."
Nuriko frowned slightly, but nodded.
They walked in silence for a few moments more, stepped lightly down the stairs and out of the breezeway...and then Miaka remembered something, abruptly, and turned back to Nuriko, opened her mouth and let the words spill out before she had a chance to rethink them.
"Oh, Nuriko--I almost forgot. I never answered you this morning." She paused...then nodded. "I'll come with you to the cemetary today."
Nuriko glanced at her in surprise...then smiled, the kind of warm, geniune smile she so closely associated with the violet-haired boy. "Oh... Arrigato, Miaka. I...I appreciate it." He grinned. "And, the musical?"
Miaka grimaced, feeling her stomach rumbling at the thought of skipping lunch. "Anou..."
Nuriko closed his eyes briefly, coming to a slow halt as they reached the hallway that separated the boys' locker room from the girls'. "Miaka," he said gently, "don't worry about it if you're not feeling up to it." He smiled out at her, a warm flood of sunshine from the nearby window glittering in his eyes, turning them a strange, rosy brown. "You have to take care of yourself." The smile slipped slightly, and his voice sank into a soft murmur. "I don't think I could stand it if something happened to you, too."
Startled by the sudden seriousness and feeling her own worries clawing at her heart, Miaka sprang forward, hugged Nuriko quickly. "Gomen," she apologized immediately, hugging him close for a long moment. "I...I didn't mean to worry you this morning." She leaned back on her heels then, disentangled her arms from his shoulders and gave a bright smile. "I'll try out for the musical with you, Nuriko. It'll be fun." She frowned, then, waved a stern finger at the older boy. "Demo, you're taking me out to get something to eat right after school!" This said, Miaka smiled again, raised a hand in farewell, and began to walk towards the girls' locker room. "Ja, Nuriko! See you in class!"
And, Nuriko could only stare after her, the lingering warmth of the embrace blazing over his skin...and struggle vainly to force his heart to stop thudding his chest. What the hell was going on? This was Miaka! He loved her, yes...but, he loved her as he'd loved Kourin--loved her as a little sister...someone to protect, watch over, comfort...but, not love like THAT. Never...
Besides. He loved Hotohori...and she had Tamahome. Shaking his head slightly and shoving his hands back into his pockets, Nuriko turned and strode over to the stairwell leading down to the boys' locker room. He would just have to forget about this...forget about the strange tingles running over his skin, the odd ache in his heart. Yes. He would...forget.
A wicked smile slipped over his lips. Besides...it was kickball day, and nothing cheered him up like sending that ball flying over the heads of his opponents...muwahaha. He hoped Miaka would be on the other team. There was nothing better than watching the look of dismay on her face as that ball soared over her head, as she turned and ran to try to catch it. Nope. Nothing better. Grinning and already beginning to undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt, Nuriko skipped down the last few stairs and entered the boys' locker room. A few moments later, he was clad in his typical gym class ensemble of blue and white soccer shorts and a plain white T-shirt, his thick violet hair hanging in a heavy braid down his back.
After a brief glance in the mirror to ensure that all was in place, he turned, began to walk towards the door leading up to the gym...and it was only then that he remembered what Miaka had said...and he felt that same tingle work its way up his spine.
//You're taking me out to get something to eat right after school!\\
//You're taking me out...\\
Nuriko paused at the doorway, closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool cement of the wall. Good God, what was wrong with him? Shaking his head again and forcing himself to focus on his kickball technique, Nuriko pushed open the door and climbed the steps. Soon, immersed in the glee of watching the other team scrambling over the ball, he felt the strange, unwelcome feelings slipping away...and soon was satisfied that they'd gone, that it had been nothing more than a momentary burst of...of craziness...yes. Craziness...or loneliness. Whatever the case...he couldn't afford it.
Something dark clawed at his heart.
Besides. Miaka didn't love him...and never would.
---
*Author's Note: Arrigato, everyone who left me such lovely reviews. *giggles and falls off chair* *ahem* But, anyway...in case you wondered, the "soundtrack" to the start of this installment was "The Boys Are Back In Town"--gomen, I've no idea who that song is by. :P Anyway...it seemed to fit Nuriko, Hotohori, and Tamahome for some reason...or, I could just be suffering from the effects of consuming not a drop of caffeine all day today. Yes, you heard me right. Not a drop. Shocking, eh? I thought so, too. *ahem* But, ANYWAY...leave this poor caffeine-deprived author some reviews, and then I'll drop to my knees and praise your name until I'm dragged off to some medical institution with enough sense to pump the caffeine directly into my bloodstream. SO. Fight mental illness. Leave a review. ^_^. Okay, errr...that's all. Ryuen out. :)
~ ~ ~
"NANI?! She did WHAT?"
Nuriko offered a soothing smile, reaching forward to grab onto the younger man's shoulders. "Get a grip on yourself, Tama-chan," he said firmly, giving the dark-haired boy a brief shake. "She's all right now. The nurse looked at her and said she's fine. She just had some kind of panic attack or something."
A rustle of fabric from just behind the two made them turn.
"A panic attack?" Hotohori echoed with a slight frown.
Nuriko nodded, carefully releasing Tamahome's shirt and turning to face the approaching eighteen-year-old. Although actually a few weeks younger than he himself was, Hotohori was taller, broader chested, and carried himself with the strength and grace of a crown prince rather than a normal high schooler. He was clad in the same non-descript white dress shirt and black slacks as the rest of them were...but, somehow, Hotohori managed to look positively regal even in such clothing, long chestnut hair falling in silken waves over his broad shoulders, exotic amber eyes glittering with the soft light of the morning sun.
"Hai," the violet-haired boy replied, pushing aside the usual urge to run his fingers through that soft hair...just once... He shook his head slightly as if to clear it, forced himself to concentrate on what he was saying. Regaining his focus, he frowned, struggled to remember just what had been said. "She's been acting weird since last night, in fact. And, this morning..." He shook his head again, leaned his back against the locker-lined wall. "This morning, she acted like she didn't remember anything at all about...well, anything. She didn't remember she was going out with you, Tamahome...and, she didn't remember..." He trailed off, and his voice lowered slightly. "Well, about Kourin."
The other two were silent for a long moment, exchanging worried glances.
"Perhaps the stress of studying for her finals is getting to her," Hotohori offered after a moment.
Tamahome scowled. "Or, maybe the stress of eating enough to feed a small country is finally getting to her..."
Nuriko reached forward, gave Tamahome an obliging smack on the back of the head. "Whatever the case," he continued, glancing briefly around the corridor as if checking to see if anyone was listening in, "we should keep an eye on her, ne?"
Tamahome nodded. "Right. Nuriko--you've got gym class with her second period, don't you?"
Nuriko nodded. "Hai. Gym second, Art third, and Study Hall fourth. But, after that, I don't see her until lunch...and after that not until eighth period."
Hotohori cleared his throat lightly, leaning his back against the lockers just next to Nuriko. He gazed speculatively at the cool yellow paint of the opposite hallway wall, frowned slightly as he thought. "I'll see Miaka in seventh period."
"I'm in Home Ec with her fifth," added Tamahome. He gave a melodramatic sigh. "I get to be her cooking partner..."
Hotohori and Nuriko made appropriate sounds of sympathy.
Tamahome nodded, then, folding his arms over his chest as he continued. "But, I'll watch her then...and Nuriko, if you watch her second, third, fourth, and eighth, and Hotohori, if you watch her seventh...then, that's only first period--"
"Which she's already missed half of already," Nuriko interjected.
"--and sixth that we won't be with her," the dark-haired boy concluded. "That should do it, then."
Hotohori frowned slightly. "What exactly do you suppose we should be watching her for?"
There was silence for a moment. Realizing rather abruptly that the other two were looking to him for an answer, Nuriko coughed lightly, crossed his arms over his chest. "Anything unusual, I guess," he answered after a moment of thought. "The main thing I noticed was that she couldn't seem to remember things about the past...but, the panic attack was something...something different. I don't know. I guess just keep your eyes open for anything strange."
Tamahome sighed. "With Miaka...that's not gonna be easy."
---
"Ne, Miaka!"
The girl turned reflexively, smiled as she caught a glimpse of Nuriko fighting his way through the crowd to her side. A moment later, he'd managed to shoulder his way through the crowded breezeway and was walking beside her, the dark satchel he carried his books in hanging loosely from his fingers. The dark cloth bounced against his knees as he walked.
"Ohayoo, Nuriko," she greeted pleasantly.
Nuriko studied her for a moment, frowning slightly...then smiled, slung the books over one shoulder. "Ne, Miaka...feeling better?"
She nodded. "Un! Much better." Her eyes glittered. "The nurse gave me something to eat."
Nuriko laughed. "She doesn't still think you're bulimic then, I guess..."
Miaka blinked for a moment, wondering what he was talking about...then remembered, abruptly, something that had happened just before she went into the book. "Oh, hai," she recovered, smiling. "No, she doesn't think I'm bulimic anymore. She had some girl follow me around for a few days to make sure." She grinned. "Now, she just thinks I've got problems with eating too much."
The older boy blinked innocently. "Gee, I wonder why she thinks that..."
They laughed...and it felt good. Miaka strolled casually through the sunny breezeway, keeping far to the left to avoid the more frantic students dashing by to their classes, and Nuriko walked just beside her, one hand slipped casually into his pocket, the other still clinging to the string of his book satchel. She glanced up at him as they moved, the smile slipping onto her face almost before she realized it. It felt good, having him here beside her again. It had been so hard, going on after Nuriko died...so hard to get up every morning without the comfort of that grinning face nearby, so hard to force herself to move onward without those strong hands supporting her...along with the other seishi, of course. She supposed she'd never realized just how much she depended on him until he was gone...until all she had left were the memories and the metal of his bracelets on her wrists. She remembered putting them on for the first time, just before they entered the cave...remembered that they were still warm with the heat of Nuriko's skin, still warm with the echoes of his last moments of life. A flicker of her earlier fear streaked into her, and she felt the smile fading, the panic building within her again...then realized, abruptly, that Nuriko had noticed her stare and was frowning down at her, looking confused and a little worried.
"Miaka?" he asked quietly. "Daijobu?"
She looked away hurriedly, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. "Gomen, Nuriko," she offered, staring quickly at the opposite wall, trying to avoid that soft violet gaze. "I was thinking about something."
Nuriko frowned slightly, but nodded.
They walked in silence for a few moments more, stepped lightly down the stairs and out of the breezeway...and then Miaka remembered something, abruptly, and turned back to Nuriko, opened her mouth and let the words spill out before she had a chance to rethink them.
"Oh, Nuriko--I almost forgot. I never answered you this morning." She paused...then nodded. "I'll come with you to the cemetary today."
Nuriko glanced at her in surprise...then smiled, the kind of warm, geniune smile she so closely associated with the violet-haired boy. "Oh... Arrigato, Miaka. I...I appreciate it." He grinned. "And, the musical?"
Miaka grimaced, feeling her stomach rumbling at the thought of skipping lunch. "Anou..."
Nuriko closed his eyes briefly, coming to a slow halt as they reached the hallway that separated the boys' locker room from the girls'. "Miaka," he said gently, "don't worry about it if you're not feeling up to it." He smiled out at her, a warm flood of sunshine from the nearby window glittering in his eyes, turning them a strange, rosy brown. "You have to take care of yourself." The smile slipped slightly, and his voice sank into a soft murmur. "I don't think I could stand it if something happened to you, too."
Startled by the sudden seriousness and feeling her own worries clawing at her heart, Miaka sprang forward, hugged Nuriko quickly. "Gomen," she apologized immediately, hugging him close for a long moment. "I...I didn't mean to worry you this morning." She leaned back on her heels then, disentangled her arms from his shoulders and gave a bright smile. "I'll try out for the musical with you, Nuriko. It'll be fun." She frowned, then, waved a stern finger at the older boy. "Demo, you're taking me out to get something to eat right after school!" This said, Miaka smiled again, raised a hand in farewell, and began to walk towards the girls' locker room. "Ja, Nuriko! See you in class!"
And, Nuriko could only stare after her, the lingering warmth of the embrace blazing over his skin...and struggle vainly to force his heart to stop thudding his chest. What the hell was going on? This was Miaka! He loved her, yes...but, he loved her as he'd loved Kourin--loved her as a little sister...someone to protect, watch over, comfort...but, not love like THAT. Never...
Besides. He loved Hotohori...and she had Tamahome. Shaking his head slightly and shoving his hands back into his pockets, Nuriko turned and strode over to the stairwell leading down to the boys' locker room. He would just have to forget about this...forget about the strange tingles running over his skin, the odd ache in his heart. Yes. He would...forget.
A wicked smile slipped over his lips. Besides...it was kickball day, and nothing cheered him up like sending that ball flying over the heads of his opponents...muwahaha. He hoped Miaka would be on the other team. There was nothing better than watching the look of dismay on her face as that ball soared over her head, as she turned and ran to try to catch it. Nope. Nothing better. Grinning and already beginning to undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt, Nuriko skipped down the last few stairs and entered the boys' locker room. A few moments later, he was clad in his typical gym class ensemble of blue and white soccer shorts and a plain white T-shirt, his thick violet hair hanging in a heavy braid down his back.
After a brief glance in the mirror to ensure that all was in place, he turned, began to walk towards the door leading up to the gym...and it was only then that he remembered what Miaka had said...and he felt that same tingle work its way up his spine.
//You're taking me out to get something to eat right after school!\\
//You're taking me out...\\
Nuriko paused at the doorway, closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool cement of the wall. Good God, what was wrong with him? Shaking his head again and forcing himself to focus on his kickball technique, Nuriko pushed open the door and climbed the steps. Soon, immersed in the glee of watching the other team scrambling over the ball, he felt the strange, unwelcome feelings slipping away...and soon was satisfied that they'd gone, that it had been nothing more than a momentary burst of...of craziness...yes. Craziness...or loneliness. Whatever the case...he couldn't afford it.
Something dark clawed at his heart.
Besides. Miaka didn't love him...and never would.
---
*Author's Note: Arrigato, everyone who left me such lovely reviews. *giggles and falls off chair* *ahem* But, anyway...in case you wondered, the "soundtrack" to the start of this installment was "The Boys Are Back In Town"--gomen, I've no idea who that song is by. :P Anyway...it seemed to fit Nuriko, Hotohori, and Tamahome for some reason...or, I could just be suffering from the effects of consuming not a drop of caffeine all day today. Yes, you heard me right. Not a drop. Shocking, eh? I thought so, too. *ahem* But, ANYWAY...leave this poor caffeine-deprived author some reviews, and then I'll drop to my knees and praise your name until I'm dragged off to some medical institution with enough sense to pump the caffeine directly into my bloodstream. SO. Fight mental illness. Leave a review. ^_^. Okay, errr...that's all. Ryuen out. :)