Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, don't own it, probably never will, you happy
now?
Author's Notes: Hey all! I've been getting into a new anime series. Well, the series itself isn't that new. It's just new for me. It's called "Gravitation". I'm *totally* smitten with Shuichi Shindou. So what if he's gay? ^.^ Anyway, I'm working really hard on this fic. I'm so sorry for not updating my others, but I'm subject to the whims of my muse! *sigh. . . * Something I should really get over if I want to write professionally someday. But oh well! I'm working hard to bring this to you! I wasn't quite sure if I was writing Rokou okay because I've only seen ONE episode with him (is he even in any other episodes?) ONCE. But I guess he left a strong impression, because everyone seems to like how I'm writing him!
Anyway, some notes on the origin of this fic. I started out thinking how difficult it must have been for Rokou to watch Nuriko grow up with all his *cough, cough* issues, then I decided to write it for a fic! Hooray! Anyway, I decided on a frame story, or a reason for Rokou to be reminiscing: he was traveling to Nuriko's grave. Then I decided I must have a companion for him, to tell the story to. Originally, it was going to be a middle-aged man, but then I decided. . .nah, not gonna say. That would spoil the whole thing! The point is, it became Rokou telling stories to Kourin about events in Ryuuen's life. And thus, this fic was born. . . Oh, and just for reference, Rokou is in his early thirties and Kourin is about fifteen.
Rokou awoke the next morning to a god-awful hangover. In the next room, he could hear Kourin laughing over something. He didn't know what - nor did care. He just wanted her to shut up so the sound would stop thundering in his skull. But his irritation quickly turned to concern as her laughter turned into a hacking cough. He didn't try to go in there; in his thirty- odd years, he learned girls generally didn't like men barging into their rooms, especially when they didn't know the man barging in too well. So he just placed a pillow over his head, waiting for the coughs - and the headache - to subside. When she finally quieted down, Rokou set about getting dressed. The headache was still there, but he figured it would be for a while. Hangovers tended to be like that.
Then he heard Kourin give a bloodcurdling shriek. He stopped, waging an inner battle. He wanted to go help her, but he was scared. What could make her scream like that? From his experience, Kourin was tough. There was little that could scare her. When there were several loud thumps, he firmed his resolve. He would go in there and save her. He ran out of his room and burst into hers.
He facefaulted. Kourin had a mirror on the windowsill and she was calmly staring into it as she brushed her hair. "Rokou? What's the matter?"
"But. . .you. . . you screamed!" he stammered.
She looked at him. "There was a spider on my hairbrush," she said calmly. "It startled me when it crawled on my hand."
Rokou reddened, humiliated. "Did you have to scream like that?" he asked tartly.
"Hey, it startled me!" she retorted. "Sorry for being so jumpy!"
"Whatever," Rokou said, feeling altogether hostile. "I have a headache. I'm going back to my room." He turned and started out the door.
"Wait a second!" Kourin called. He looked at her, and saw that she was giving him the most intense gaze he had ever seen on her face.
"What is it?" he asked suspiciously. He didn't like the look she was giving him. Women had given him similar looks before, and while he liked the outcome, he didn't want anything of the sort with *this* one. She wasn't even fully an adult, and he didn't have a Lolita Complex!
"Your. . .hair," she said.
He facefaulted. "My hair? What about it?" It was falling long and loose over his shoulders, since he hadn't tied it back yet. He touched it self- consciously.
"It's so beautiful!" she squealed. She pushed him down into a chair, and ran behind him, running her fingers through it. "It's so long and soft and wavy and thick! Oh, let me play with it!"
"I have a headache," muttered Rokou.
"Having your hair brushed can be very soothing," Kourin informed him. "I know all these pressure points that can make you feel better and. . . and. . .please!" Rokou turned around and looked at her. She gave him a pleading look, almost identical to the one his little sister used to give when she wanted something.
"Fine, fine," he muttered. He relaxed in the chair, and Kourin began to tug her brush through it. He had to admit, it was a bit soothing. . .
"Tell me another story about Nur- I mean, Ryuuen. Something else *important* in his life. I hear he had some. . .quirks."
"You mean he was strange," Rokou said. When she flinched, he just shook his head slightly, so as not to jostle his brains (he still had that headache) or yank the hairbrush out of her hands. "It's okay. I loved him, but he was a cross-dresser. But he had his reasons! Very sad, hurtful circumstances."
"Mmm. . ." she replied. "Tell me about those circumstances, then. . ."
~**~
It was a cloudy, grey winter day when it happened. I was at home doing something. I don't even remember what. But that wasn't important. Ryuuen and Kourin were supposed to go somewhere - I don't remember where, either - but Kourin was taking a long time to leave, and Ryuuen was getting to be impatient. Finally, he left without her. When she was finally ready, she ran after him, trying to catch up.
That's when . . .*it* happened. There was a loud crash from the road outside. My mother and I rushed to see what had happened, and the sight that greeted us was awful. Kourin was lying in the street, dead, and Ryuuen stared, horrorstruck. Time seemed to stand still. Everything and everyone was seemed silent as my world centered to that one small spot in the middle of the road.
Ryuuen approached Kourin's still figure. "Kourin," he said, kneeling. "Get up. I'm sorry I didn't wait. Now stop it." She didn't respond. "Kourin, come *on*," he said, shaking her slightly. "I apologized. We can make it there on time if you stop playing around." She still didn't move. "Kourin!" he shouted, shaking her more violently. "Get up! Now! Stop playing this stupid game! It's not funny anymore! KOURIN!" he screamed, and broke down into tears, sobbing her name over and over, as the whole world walked past.
I looked up my mom in horror and confusion, unable to move or do anything. She was looking at the two, her eyes holding an unfathomable sadness. "'Kaa-san." I started, but she did not respond. Slowly, she walked forward, and gently placed her hand on his head. He looked up at her tearfully, then turned and began to sob into her skirts. Gently, she lifted him up, holding him as if he were only a small child.
"Rokou," she said softly, "go home and tell your father. He will alert the undertaker." I only stood there, unable to respond from the shock. "Rokou," she said again, her voice firm bordering on sharp that time.
I turned around and walked home, feeling like I had a boulder tied to my feet for each step.
~**~
Ryuuen retreated to Kourin's room once he was home, and didn't leave it again for two weeks - not even for the funeral. We all worried about him terribly, of course. My mother was scared that she would lose another one of her beloved children. In fact, we all shared her fear; none of us wanted to lose him as well.
It was an unseasonably warm day when he finally came out. I remember, because I was playing with my friends, refusing to let such an unusually nice day go to waste. When all my friends stopped and stared, I knew something was up. So, I turned around to see what they were looking at. Then I promptly passed out.
I came to within a minute, thankfully. "Hey, Rokou, what's wrong?" one of my friends asked.
"I thought I saw Kourin. . ." I said.
"Yeah, so?" he replied.
I stared at him, confused by his response. Then I turned around, and stared hard at my younger "sister". Then I realized. . .*Ryuuen*. I ran over to him.
"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed.
"What are you talking about, Rokou-nii-chan?" he asked *in her voice*, his eyes widely innocent. "I'm just watching you play with your friends."
I stared hard at him. He was wearing one of Kourin's dresses, had his hair in two buns like a girl rather in the single bun that he normally wore, and was even wearing the lip gloss mother had given Kourin to satisfy her demands for makeup like "a real woman wears".
Ryuuen was anything *but* a real woman.
"You know what I'm talking about, Ryuuen! Why are you doing this?"
"I'm not Ryuuen. I'm Kourin. Ryuuen died two weeks ago when he was hit by a wagon."
I grabbed his arm and dragged him inside the house, where my father was reading financial records for his shop and mother was writing a letter. "Kaa-san! Tou-san! Make Ryuuen take off Kourin's dress."
"Make Rokou stop it," he whined, squirming in my grip. "He's hurting me."
Tou-san barely looked up. "Rokou, let go of your sister."
I was so shocked I couldn't do anything but what I was told. "'Sister'?" I repeated. "But, Tou-san, this is Ryuuen! It was Kourin that died." I could already feel tears on confusion welling up.
"Kourin, you're excused," he said, motioning for my younger. . .sibling to leave. He promptly ran up the stairs to Kourin's room. "Now, Rokou," he turned to me, "let me get this straight. It was your brother who was killed that day, not your sister."
"What are you talking about?" Tears of desperation and frustration rolled down my cheeks. "Kourin's dead. Ryuuen's running around playing dress-up in her skirts. What's going on here?"
My mother got up at that remark. "Poor boy," she said, embracing me. "He must be confused from the grief. Shhh, it'll be okay. I know it's hard, but soon it will be just the same, only with four instead of five."
I pulled away. "What are you talking about? You're the one who's confused. Kourin is the one who died. Not Ryuuen." Before they could respond, I stormed up the stairs into Kourin's room, where Ryuuen - *Ryuuen*, *not* Kourin - was playing with Kourin's dolls.
"Why?" I asked desperately, the word coming out as a sob. "Why are you doing this? Why can't you just let Kourin die?"
He glared at me sullenly, almost pouting, for a second before looking away. "Because I love her. She didn't deserve to die. It wasn't her fault. It was *my* fault. *I'm* the one who should be dead. So I am. And Kourin is the one who will live."
"Suzaku," I mumbled, burying my face in my hands. Then something dawned on me. "You're still a Suzaku seishi! You're still Nuriko!" I practically yelled. I tugged at the collar of his dress, revealing the red character on his collarbone. "Do you think Suzaku's going to want a cross-dresser for one of his warriors? At the summoning ceremony he'll probably just laugh in your face and refuse to grant the miko's wish!"
"Suzaku is the one who chose me. As a god, he should have been able to tell this was going to happen. It's his own fault." He sounded sullen again.
"You're not going to give this up, are you?" He shook his head. I sighed and looked around before saying. "Fine. Even though Kaa-san and Tou-san have accepted it, I won't. You are Ryuuen. You are my otouto. And I won't let you forget it." When I finished my speech, I realized I was still crying. I hastily wiped my tears away.
"Nii-chan, you're too stubborn," he said, and leaped into a flying glomp. We both went flying into the wall.
"Like I said, you're still Nuriko," I said, wincing painfully and rubbing the back of my head. "Try not to forget *that* much."
"Oops, sorry," he laughed.
~**~
"How cute. Brotherly love. Or brother-sister love. No, that sounds wrong, doesn't it?" Kourin laughed, sitting on the bed. She had finished brushing Rokou's hair about an hour ago.
"Yeah. . ." Rokou replied. He supposed it could be funny, but he was too caught up in the memory to really see it that way.
Kourin sobered immediately. "Sorry. The rest is really sad. Really." She wiped at her eyes. "I got a little teary-eyed actually. So that's the legend of the infamous Kourin."
"I haven't told that to anyone before," Rokou said softly.
"Why not? It's really important, and you're a great storyteller."
"No one ever asked."
She stood up and lightly smacked him. "Don't go all silent and sulky on me again. It almost seemed like you were an actual companion for a bit, there!" She began to cough. And cough and cough and cough.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, suddenly alarmed. He grabbed her arm, and his eyes widened at how thin and frail it was.
She stopped coughing and pushed him away. "Let *go* off me!" she snapped. Rokou backed off, hurt. "Oh, jeez, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to yell."
"You have blood on your lips," he said. She wiped it away hurriedly. "You're not well," he continued.
"You're right. I'm not," she replied softly. "I'm dying. . ."
There was a stunned silence. Then Rokou, his temper flaring up, said, "Then why the hell are you pushing yourself like this? You won't get any better this way! You should-"
"I won't get any better at all," she snapped. "I'm going to die. I just need to do this one thing before I go."
"What, then?"
"I can't tell you. But it's important. I need you to help me make the journey, not just happen to be going the same way, because I won't survive it alone. *Please*, it's important."
There was a note of desperation in her voice that Rokou couldn't help but notice. Moved to sympathize, he said, "Fine."
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Thank you *so* much."
End notes: Sorry it took me sooooooooooo long to update. My little brother deleted virtually ALL my files, including my stories. Then I had to study for finals. Then I had Christmas. But I'm finally on winter break, so fear not! I shall update more often, because I know exactly where I want to go with this and I have every intention of getting there! So, R/R and thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: Hey all! I've been getting into a new anime series. Well, the series itself isn't that new. It's just new for me. It's called "Gravitation". I'm *totally* smitten with Shuichi Shindou. So what if he's gay? ^.^ Anyway, I'm working really hard on this fic. I'm so sorry for not updating my others, but I'm subject to the whims of my muse! *sigh. . . * Something I should really get over if I want to write professionally someday. But oh well! I'm working hard to bring this to you! I wasn't quite sure if I was writing Rokou okay because I've only seen ONE episode with him (is he even in any other episodes?) ONCE. But I guess he left a strong impression, because everyone seems to like how I'm writing him!
Anyway, some notes on the origin of this fic. I started out thinking how difficult it must have been for Rokou to watch Nuriko grow up with all his *cough, cough* issues, then I decided to write it for a fic! Hooray! Anyway, I decided on a frame story, or a reason for Rokou to be reminiscing: he was traveling to Nuriko's grave. Then I decided I must have a companion for him, to tell the story to. Originally, it was going to be a middle-aged man, but then I decided. . .nah, not gonna say. That would spoil the whole thing! The point is, it became Rokou telling stories to Kourin about events in Ryuuen's life. And thus, this fic was born. . . Oh, and just for reference, Rokou is in his early thirties and Kourin is about fifteen.
Rokou awoke the next morning to a god-awful hangover. In the next room, he could hear Kourin laughing over something. He didn't know what - nor did care. He just wanted her to shut up so the sound would stop thundering in his skull. But his irritation quickly turned to concern as her laughter turned into a hacking cough. He didn't try to go in there; in his thirty- odd years, he learned girls generally didn't like men barging into their rooms, especially when they didn't know the man barging in too well. So he just placed a pillow over his head, waiting for the coughs - and the headache - to subside. When she finally quieted down, Rokou set about getting dressed. The headache was still there, but he figured it would be for a while. Hangovers tended to be like that.
Then he heard Kourin give a bloodcurdling shriek. He stopped, waging an inner battle. He wanted to go help her, but he was scared. What could make her scream like that? From his experience, Kourin was tough. There was little that could scare her. When there were several loud thumps, he firmed his resolve. He would go in there and save her. He ran out of his room and burst into hers.
He facefaulted. Kourin had a mirror on the windowsill and she was calmly staring into it as she brushed her hair. "Rokou? What's the matter?"
"But. . .you. . . you screamed!" he stammered.
She looked at him. "There was a spider on my hairbrush," she said calmly. "It startled me when it crawled on my hand."
Rokou reddened, humiliated. "Did you have to scream like that?" he asked tartly.
"Hey, it startled me!" she retorted. "Sorry for being so jumpy!"
"Whatever," Rokou said, feeling altogether hostile. "I have a headache. I'm going back to my room." He turned and started out the door.
"Wait a second!" Kourin called. He looked at her, and saw that she was giving him the most intense gaze he had ever seen on her face.
"What is it?" he asked suspiciously. He didn't like the look she was giving him. Women had given him similar looks before, and while he liked the outcome, he didn't want anything of the sort with *this* one. She wasn't even fully an adult, and he didn't have a Lolita Complex!
"Your. . .hair," she said.
He facefaulted. "My hair? What about it?" It was falling long and loose over his shoulders, since he hadn't tied it back yet. He touched it self- consciously.
"It's so beautiful!" she squealed. She pushed him down into a chair, and ran behind him, running her fingers through it. "It's so long and soft and wavy and thick! Oh, let me play with it!"
"I have a headache," muttered Rokou.
"Having your hair brushed can be very soothing," Kourin informed him. "I know all these pressure points that can make you feel better and. . . and. . .please!" Rokou turned around and looked at her. She gave him a pleading look, almost identical to the one his little sister used to give when she wanted something.
"Fine, fine," he muttered. He relaxed in the chair, and Kourin began to tug her brush through it. He had to admit, it was a bit soothing. . .
"Tell me another story about Nur- I mean, Ryuuen. Something else *important* in his life. I hear he had some. . .quirks."
"You mean he was strange," Rokou said. When she flinched, he just shook his head slightly, so as not to jostle his brains (he still had that headache) or yank the hairbrush out of her hands. "It's okay. I loved him, but he was a cross-dresser. But he had his reasons! Very sad, hurtful circumstances."
"Mmm. . ." she replied. "Tell me about those circumstances, then. . ."
~**~
It was a cloudy, grey winter day when it happened. I was at home doing something. I don't even remember what. But that wasn't important. Ryuuen and Kourin were supposed to go somewhere - I don't remember where, either - but Kourin was taking a long time to leave, and Ryuuen was getting to be impatient. Finally, he left without her. When she was finally ready, she ran after him, trying to catch up.
That's when . . .*it* happened. There was a loud crash from the road outside. My mother and I rushed to see what had happened, and the sight that greeted us was awful. Kourin was lying in the street, dead, and Ryuuen stared, horrorstruck. Time seemed to stand still. Everything and everyone was seemed silent as my world centered to that one small spot in the middle of the road.
Ryuuen approached Kourin's still figure. "Kourin," he said, kneeling. "Get up. I'm sorry I didn't wait. Now stop it." She didn't respond. "Kourin, come *on*," he said, shaking her slightly. "I apologized. We can make it there on time if you stop playing around." She still didn't move. "Kourin!" he shouted, shaking her more violently. "Get up! Now! Stop playing this stupid game! It's not funny anymore! KOURIN!" he screamed, and broke down into tears, sobbing her name over and over, as the whole world walked past.
I looked up my mom in horror and confusion, unable to move or do anything. She was looking at the two, her eyes holding an unfathomable sadness. "'Kaa-san." I started, but she did not respond. Slowly, she walked forward, and gently placed her hand on his head. He looked up at her tearfully, then turned and began to sob into her skirts. Gently, she lifted him up, holding him as if he were only a small child.
"Rokou," she said softly, "go home and tell your father. He will alert the undertaker." I only stood there, unable to respond from the shock. "Rokou," she said again, her voice firm bordering on sharp that time.
I turned around and walked home, feeling like I had a boulder tied to my feet for each step.
~**~
Ryuuen retreated to Kourin's room once he was home, and didn't leave it again for two weeks - not even for the funeral. We all worried about him terribly, of course. My mother was scared that she would lose another one of her beloved children. In fact, we all shared her fear; none of us wanted to lose him as well.
It was an unseasonably warm day when he finally came out. I remember, because I was playing with my friends, refusing to let such an unusually nice day go to waste. When all my friends stopped and stared, I knew something was up. So, I turned around to see what they were looking at. Then I promptly passed out.
I came to within a minute, thankfully. "Hey, Rokou, what's wrong?" one of my friends asked.
"I thought I saw Kourin. . ." I said.
"Yeah, so?" he replied.
I stared at him, confused by his response. Then I turned around, and stared hard at my younger "sister". Then I realized. . .*Ryuuen*. I ran over to him.
"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed.
"What are you talking about, Rokou-nii-chan?" he asked *in her voice*, his eyes widely innocent. "I'm just watching you play with your friends."
I stared hard at him. He was wearing one of Kourin's dresses, had his hair in two buns like a girl rather in the single bun that he normally wore, and was even wearing the lip gloss mother had given Kourin to satisfy her demands for makeup like "a real woman wears".
Ryuuen was anything *but* a real woman.
"You know what I'm talking about, Ryuuen! Why are you doing this?"
"I'm not Ryuuen. I'm Kourin. Ryuuen died two weeks ago when he was hit by a wagon."
I grabbed his arm and dragged him inside the house, where my father was reading financial records for his shop and mother was writing a letter. "Kaa-san! Tou-san! Make Ryuuen take off Kourin's dress."
"Make Rokou stop it," he whined, squirming in my grip. "He's hurting me."
Tou-san barely looked up. "Rokou, let go of your sister."
I was so shocked I couldn't do anything but what I was told. "'Sister'?" I repeated. "But, Tou-san, this is Ryuuen! It was Kourin that died." I could already feel tears on confusion welling up.
"Kourin, you're excused," he said, motioning for my younger. . .sibling to leave. He promptly ran up the stairs to Kourin's room. "Now, Rokou," he turned to me, "let me get this straight. It was your brother who was killed that day, not your sister."
"What are you talking about?" Tears of desperation and frustration rolled down my cheeks. "Kourin's dead. Ryuuen's running around playing dress-up in her skirts. What's going on here?"
My mother got up at that remark. "Poor boy," she said, embracing me. "He must be confused from the grief. Shhh, it'll be okay. I know it's hard, but soon it will be just the same, only with four instead of five."
I pulled away. "What are you talking about? You're the one who's confused. Kourin is the one who died. Not Ryuuen." Before they could respond, I stormed up the stairs into Kourin's room, where Ryuuen - *Ryuuen*, *not* Kourin - was playing with Kourin's dolls.
"Why?" I asked desperately, the word coming out as a sob. "Why are you doing this? Why can't you just let Kourin die?"
He glared at me sullenly, almost pouting, for a second before looking away. "Because I love her. She didn't deserve to die. It wasn't her fault. It was *my* fault. *I'm* the one who should be dead. So I am. And Kourin is the one who will live."
"Suzaku," I mumbled, burying my face in my hands. Then something dawned on me. "You're still a Suzaku seishi! You're still Nuriko!" I practically yelled. I tugged at the collar of his dress, revealing the red character on his collarbone. "Do you think Suzaku's going to want a cross-dresser for one of his warriors? At the summoning ceremony he'll probably just laugh in your face and refuse to grant the miko's wish!"
"Suzaku is the one who chose me. As a god, he should have been able to tell this was going to happen. It's his own fault." He sounded sullen again.
"You're not going to give this up, are you?" He shook his head. I sighed and looked around before saying. "Fine. Even though Kaa-san and Tou-san have accepted it, I won't. You are Ryuuen. You are my otouto. And I won't let you forget it." When I finished my speech, I realized I was still crying. I hastily wiped my tears away.
"Nii-chan, you're too stubborn," he said, and leaped into a flying glomp. We both went flying into the wall.
"Like I said, you're still Nuriko," I said, wincing painfully and rubbing the back of my head. "Try not to forget *that* much."
"Oops, sorry," he laughed.
~**~
"How cute. Brotherly love. Or brother-sister love. No, that sounds wrong, doesn't it?" Kourin laughed, sitting on the bed. She had finished brushing Rokou's hair about an hour ago.
"Yeah. . ." Rokou replied. He supposed it could be funny, but he was too caught up in the memory to really see it that way.
Kourin sobered immediately. "Sorry. The rest is really sad. Really." She wiped at her eyes. "I got a little teary-eyed actually. So that's the legend of the infamous Kourin."
"I haven't told that to anyone before," Rokou said softly.
"Why not? It's really important, and you're a great storyteller."
"No one ever asked."
She stood up and lightly smacked him. "Don't go all silent and sulky on me again. It almost seemed like you were an actual companion for a bit, there!" She began to cough. And cough and cough and cough.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, suddenly alarmed. He grabbed her arm, and his eyes widened at how thin and frail it was.
She stopped coughing and pushed him away. "Let *go* off me!" she snapped. Rokou backed off, hurt. "Oh, jeez, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to yell."
"You have blood on your lips," he said. She wiped it away hurriedly. "You're not well," he continued.
"You're right. I'm not," she replied softly. "I'm dying. . ."
There was a stunned silence. Then Rokou, his temper flaring up, said, "Then why the hell are you pushing yourself like this? You won't get any better this way! You should-"
"I won't get any better at all," she snapped. "I'm going to die. I just need to do this one thing before I go."
"What, then?"
"I can't tell you. But it's important. I need you to help me make the journey, not just happen to be going the same way, because I won't survive it alone. *Please*, it's important."
There was a note of desperation in her voice that Rokou couldn't help but notice. Moved to sympathize, he said, "Fine."
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Thank you *so* much."
End notes: Sorry it took me sooooooooooo long to update. My little brother deleted virtually ALL my files, including my stories. Then I had to study for finals. Then I had Christmas. But I'm finally on winter break, so fear not! I shall update more often, because I know exactly where I want to go with this and I have every intention of getting there! So, R/R and thanks for reading!