Okay, first off I have to apologize for the way the format of the last
chapter turned out. For some reason it all went to crap. Grrrr. But yeah,
hopefully the next chapter turns out better. For those of you who reviewed
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK
YOU!!!! For whoever gave Deity her sword back, if I find you I promise to
make you suffer. For the love of Suzaku she's stalking me!!! HELP!!!!
Miaka looked up to find the so solid figure to be none other Nakago. He looked down at her with malicious glee filling his eyes. He had witnessed both last night's and this afternoon's ordeal from nearby. He didn't take kindly to those who killed his warriors. Granted, he didn't much like Ashitare, but like him, Ashitare had been ruthless, not like those sniveling twins. They would pay for their mistake all too soon.
"Nakago."
All the hate and rage that Miaka had been feeling filled her eyes. She allowed Nakago to see what was lying beneath the surface. In her so short life, Miaka had learned the one lesson no human being should ever have to learn. She had learned to hate. At that moment Nakago was the target of the hate she was feeling.
"What do you want? Did you come to laugh? To see how pitiful we all look?"
"On the contrary Priestess. I came to finish what we started."
"What we.?"
Miaka's face paled as she thought back to the short time she had spent in the Kutou palace. In that room that had, for a short time become a torture chamber. As she pieced the thoughts together like a giant jigsaw puzzle, Nakago watched the expression on her face and saw the moment the pieces all clicked together.
"I don't think so."
Miaka took a step back but Nakago gripped her arm tight enough to bruise. He wasn't about to let her get away. Even if she did call for help, they would be gone by the time those Suzaku Idiots arrived on the scene.
"What are you going to Priestess, scream for help? They'll never get here in time. We'll be long gone by then."
"Let's just test that theory."
Miaka opened her mouth to scream when there was a sudden blur and the world faded to black. There was nothing but white buzzing as her vision faded to shadows.
It was some hours later when Miaka awoke to once more find herself in a room much like the one she had previously been in while at the Kutou palace.
"That's because it's the same room."
Miaka looked toward the door to find Nakago leaning against the wall. He took a step toward her, a menacing smile on his face. This time he would have what he wanted. He didn't care how it happened but this time they would finish what they had started.
Miaka stood her ground as Nakago moved toward her. She knew what was going to happen, and right then and there it dawned on her that she didn't really care anymore. She was tired of it. All of it. Though she had only been here a few short days, she felt the weight of her so young years. Nothing seemed worth it anymore.
"You surprise me Priestess. Aren't you going to run?"
"Why should I? I'm not afraid of you."
"Really?"
Nakago rushed the girl forcing her down onto the bed beneath him, his right hand holding both of her wrists together above her head in a death grip.
"You can kill me, rape me, beat me to a pulp, I don't care. It isn't worth it anymore."
Nakago found the girl's words puzzling but he didn't stop. He figured she was only bluffing. "I might do just that Priestess of Suzaku, though not necessarily in that order." He tore open the blouse she wore and could only stare in shock. The front of her body was covered in scars. Most of the scars were jagged lines and slightly puffier than they should have been, as if the scares had healed without proper stitches.
Nakago looked up into the girl's eyes and for a moment pitied her. He remembered another woman he had known long ago who bore scars much like these. He had only seen them at a glance, but just the same, those scars reminded him of her. With his free hand Nakago traced the scars on Miaka's abdomen that were visible. The feather light touch reminded Miaka so much of the way Tamahome had touched the scars on her back. It was almost unnerving.
"Has he seen them?"
He? Oh.Tamahome. Miaka had refused to let Tamahome see the scars on the front of her body. It was bad enough he would have to see the scars inflicted on her by Nakago's hands without him having to see the ones on the front of her body as well.
"No.he hasn't.."
There was a sadness lurking in Miaka's eyes that Nakago could not understand. For one of the few times in his life he actually felt something other than the burning hate and rage that had been with him since childhood. Now, looking at this girl, her body as evidence of the pain and violence she had experienced in her life, he felt a sense of tenderness.
"Who was it? Who did this to you?"
"Does it matter?"
In a sense, it did and it didn't. After all, he had been doing far worse to people of all genders, he who was the most feared General, renowned through out the world, and yet for some reason it bothered him. Something about the scars this girl, the Priestess of Suzaku bared bothered him.
Nakago lowered his lips to one of the many jagged scars and gently kissed his way up and down the scar. He moved from one scar to another, trailing kisses up and down each one with the tenderness of a lover, sending shivers down Miaka's spine. Nakago slowly released his grip on Miaka's wrists and lowered his hands to her sides as he continued to kiss along the scars on her body.
Miaka lowered her hands to run her fingers through the silken strands of Nakago's golden hair. This was wrong. In so many ways it was wrong, and yet she was so unwilling to let go of the feelings Nakago was arousing in her.
This was wrong. This was very wrong, her mind screamed. At that moment Nakago lightly traced one of the scars with his tongue, making Miaka gasp.
Okay, this was very wrong. Very, very, very wrong. Very, very, very, very, very wrong. Very, very, very, very, very, very, wrong.
"Nakago," Miaka gasped.
This was so wrong it wasn't even funny. She couldn't possibly be feeling this way. She loved Tamahome. She knew that to be true in her heart and soul. She belonged only to Tamahome and yet, and yet she was drawn to what Nakago was doing to her. She didn't even bother to fight back when he covered her lips with his and kissed her with an almost bruising force.
"Stop.please.please stop." Miaka said, her mind starting to clear.
She couldn't do this. Not to Tamahome. Not when she loved him so much. The thoughts and feelings swirling around in her mind were troublesome. Her mind and heart were screaming," NO!" But her body was saying, "Yes!"
"What's wrong?" Nakago asked, his hands gently massaging the skin at her sides.
"We have to stop.I can't.I can't do this."
"You're not enjoying it?"
"That's the problem! I am enjoying it!"
Tears now welled up in Miaka's eyes as overwhelming guilt filled her heart. They were not doing this. They so were not doing this. He was her enemy! He had tortured her friend, probably still tortured her friend! There was no way she could let this happen.
"Let go of me."
"When you're having so much fun? Not likely."
Miaka unobtrusively slid her hand to Nakago's belt and grabbed the dagger she had once before used to defend herself against him. She held the blade against his throat, shocking the general.
"Get the fuck off me or I will slit your throat."
"Try me."
Miaka ground the blade harder against his throat, a small line of blood dripping onto the blade. She saw the emotion's pass over Nakago's face as he looked at her with a new respect. She was far more dangerous than she appeared, though technically that little scene at the doctor's house last night had more than proved that.
With a dancer's grace he moved away from her, watching her every move. They stared at each other for a space of heartbeats, not even daring to breathe. Nakago took a slow, careful step toward Miaka who only backed up.
"If you ever touch me like that again I'll kill you," she said as the tears slowly slid down her cheeks.
"Somehow I doubt that," he replied.
Miaka glared at the blonde General. She had a brief moment to silently plead momentary insanity for having let Nakago get that close to her. To let him touch her. Tamahome might never forgive her.
Nakago took another slow step forward, watching, waiting. When Miaka made no move he rushed her a second time, both of them slamming into the wall. Miaka cried out in pain as her back slammed into the so solid wall. That was gonna be a hell of a bruise. As if she didn't have enough injuries!
Nakago pinned her body to the wall with his own, she could feel his hot breath on her neck. "If he touches me again.I'll kill myself.I won't hurt Tamahome like this.Tamahome.I wish you were here." Miaka thought.
Nakago saw the look in her eyes, a cross between wariness and despair, and he didn't understand it. Before Miaka could open her mouth to speak, he kissed her again, sliding his hands inside her blouse.
Miaka half screamed when his hands touched her, sensing the change in Nakago's mood. Something was really very wrong. Something had changed. He was no longer being as gentle as he was only moments before.
Something hard hit Miaka's stomach knocking the air out of her. Nakago watched her drop to the floor in front of him, trying to catch her breath.
"Now we can do this the hard way or.well, there's just the hard way."
Miaka held the knife blade to her wrist, causing Nakago to pause.
"If you so much as think about touching me, I'll kill myself."
"Humph."
The room became a sudden blur and before she realized it, Miaka found herself lying on the floor, spitting blood. Nakago now held the blade in his hand. Her entire abdomen ached where his foot had met her stomach. She looked up at the blonde general, a new rage burning in her. She started to get up when Nakago kicked again, harder this time, in the stomach. The pain was unbelievable. Suddenly Nakago was there, kneeling beside her, his hand tightly gripping her hair.
"Now you will learn to obey me as your friend has."
"Drop dead," Miaka spat.
The next few hours became a sudden blur of pain, humiliation, and an anger and fury to deep and far too hot to be called rage. But beneath it all, there was an overwhelming sense of despair and an all too vivid death wish.
"He will never want you again when he discovers what you've done," Nakago whispered in her ear.
Suddenly there were deep crimson stains on the floor and sheets. Blood.so much blood..too much.If too much blood was lost the body would die, as would the soul inside it, but at that moment, the soul just didn't care.
"Kill me..kill me..kill me.."
Over and over again the words fell from Miaka's lips only separated by the occasional "No..please no.." When Nakago had gone, leaving Miaka to face the horrible night and shadows alone she curled into a ball mourned. There were no other words for the pain that emanated from her as she screamed and cried. And there was definitely no word to describe the icy rage building in her heart. Too tired to remain conscious, Miaka gave herself over to the welcoming dark.
Sometime later she became aware of another presence in the room. It was probably Nakago.
"What do you want," she croaked.
" I came to rescue you ya know."
That voice. It had to be him.
"Chichiri!"
The blue haired monk approached the bed and felt his stomach do a flip flop when he saw all the blood. Miaka's blood. Nakago.had he.? Chichiri shook the thought from his mind. Later. There would be time for questions later. But now they had to get out of here.
To be continued.mwa hahahahaha!!! PLEASE REVIEW. Oh! And if the format comes out crappy it's not my fault!!!
Miaka looked up to find the so solid figure to be none other Nakago. He looked down at her with malicious glee filling his eyes. He had witnessed both last night's and this afternoon's ordeal from nearby. He didn't take kindly to those who killed his warriors. Granted, he didn't much like Ashitare, but like him, Ashitare had been ruthless, not like those sniveling twins. They would pay for their mistake all too soon.
"Nakago."
All the hate and rage that Miaka had been feeling filled her eyes. She allowed Nakago to see what was lying beneath the surface. In her so short life, Miaka had learned the one lesson no human being should ever have to learn. She had learned to hate. At that moment Nakago was the target of the hate she was feeling.
"What do you want? Did you come to laugh? To see how pitiful we all look?"
"On the contrary Priestess. I came to finish what we started."
"What we.?"
Miaka's face paled as she thought back to the short time she had spent in the Kutou palace. In that room that had, for a short time become a torture chamber. As she pieced the thoughts together like a giant jigsaw puzzle, Nakago watched the expression on her face and saw the moment the pieces all clicked together.
"I don't think so."
Miaka took a step back but Nakago gripped her arm tight enough to bruise. He wasn't about to let her get away. Even if she did call for help, they would be gone by the time those Suzaku Idiots arrived on the scene.
"What are you going to Priestess, scream for help? They'll never get here in time. We'll be long gone by then."
"Let's just test that theory."
Miaka opened her mouth to scream when there was a sudden blur and the world faded to black. There was nothing but white buzzing as her vision faded to shadows.
It was some hours later when Miaka awoke to once more find herself in a room much like the one she had previously been in while at the Kutou palace.
"That's because it's the same room."
Miaka looked toward the door to find Nakago leaning against the wall. He took a step toward her, a menacing smile on his face. This time he would have what he wanted. He didn't care how it happened but this time they would finish what they had started.
Miaka stood her ground as Nakago moved toward her. She knew what was going to happen, and right then and there it dawned on her that she didn't really care anymore. She was tired of it. All of it. Though she had only been here a few short days, she felt the weight of her so young years. Nothing seemed worth it anymore.
"You surprise me Priestess. Aren't you going to run?"
"Why should I? I'm not afraid of you."
"Really?"
Nakago rushed the girl forcing her down onto the bed beneath him, his right hand holding both of her wrists together above her head in a death grip.
"You can kill me, rape me, beat me to a pulp, I don't care. It isn't worth it anymore."
Nakago found the girl's words puzzling but he didn't stop. He figured she was only bluffing. "I might do just that Priestess of Suzaku, though not necessarily in that order." He tore open the blouse she wore and could only stare in shock. The front of her body was covered in scars. Most of the scars were jagged lines and slightly puffier than they should have been, as if the scares had healed without proper stitches.
Nakago looked up into the girl's eyes and for a moment pitied her. He remembered another woman he had known long ago who bore scars much like these. He had only seen them at a glance, but just the same, those scars reminded him of her. With his free hand Nakago traced the scars on Miaka's abdomen that were visible. The feather light touch reminded Miaka so much of the way Tamahome had touched the scars on her back. It was almost unnerving.
"Has he seen them?"
He? Oh.Tamahome. Miaka had refused to let Tamahome see the scars on the front of her body. It was bad enough he would have to see the scars inflicted on her by Nakago's hands without him having to see the ones on the front of her body as well.
"No.he hasn't.."
There was a sadness lurking in Miaka's eyes that Nakago could not understand. For one of the few times in his life he actually felt something other than the burning hate and rage that had been with him since childhood. Now, looking at this girl, her body as evidence of the pain and violence she had experienced in her life, he felt a sense of tenderness.
"Who was it? Who did this to you?"
"Does it matter?"
In a sense, it did and it didn't. After all, he had been doing far worse to people of all genders, he who was the most feared General, renowned through out the world, and yet for some reason it bothered him. Something about the scars this girl, the Priestess of Suzaku bared bothered him.
Nakago lowered his lips to one of the many jagged scars and gently kissed his way up and down the scar. He moved from one scar to another, trailing kisses up and down each one with the tenderness of a lover, sending shivers down Miaka's spine. Nakago slowly released his grip on Miaka's wrists and lowered his hands to her sides as he continued to kiss along the scars on her body.
Miaka lowered her hands to run her fingers through the silken strands of Nakago's golden hair. This was wrong. In so many ways it was wrong, and yet she was so unwilling to let go of the feelings Nakago was arousing in her.
This was wrong. This was very wrong, her mind screamed. At that moment Nakago lightly traced one of the scars with his tongue, making Miaka gasp.
Okay, this was very wrong. Very, very, very wrong. Very, very, very, very, very wrong. Very, very, very, very, very, very, wrong.
"Nakago," Miaka gasped.
This was so wrong it wasn't even funny. She couldn't possibly be feeling this way. She loved Tamahome. She knew that to be true in her heart and soul. She belonged only to Tamahome and yet, and yet she was drawn to what Nakago was doing to her. She didn't even bother to fight back when he covered her lips with his and kissed her with an almost bruising force.
"Stop.please.please stop." Miaka said, her mind starting to clear.
She couldn't do this. Not to Tamahome. Not when she loved him so much. The thoughts and feelings swirling around in her mind were troublesome. Her mind and heart were screaming," NO!" But her body was saying, "Yes!"
"What's wrong?" Nakago asked, his hands gently massaging the skin at her sides.
"We have to stop.I can't.I can't do this."
"You're not enjoying it?"
"That's the problem! I am enjoying it!"
Tears now welled up in Miaka's eyes as overwhelming guilt filled her heart. They were not doing this. They so were not doing this. He was her enemy! He had tortured her friend, probably still tortured her friend! There was no way she could let this happen.
"Let go of me."
"When you're having so much fun? Not likely."
Miaka unobtrusively slid her hand to Nakago's belt and grabbed the dagger she had once before used to defend herself against him. She held the blade against his throat, shocking the general.
"Get the fuck off me or I will slit your throat."
"Try me."
Miaka ground the blade harder against his throat, a small line of blood dripping onto the blade. She saw the emotion's pass over Nakago's face as he looked at her with a new respect. She was far more dangerous than she appeared, though technically that little scene at the doctor's house last night had more than proved that.
With a dancer's grace he moved away from her, watching her every move. They stared at each other for a space of heartbeats, not even daring to breathe. Nakago took a slow, careful step toward Miaka who only backed up.
"If you ever touch me like that again I'll kill you," she said as the tears slowly slid down her cheeks.
"Somehow I doubt that," he replied.
Miaka glared at the blonde General. She had a brief moment to silently plead momentary insanity for having let Nakago get that close to her. To let him touch her. Tamahome might never forgive her.
Nakago took another slow step forward, watching, waiting. When Miaka made no move he rushed her a second time, both of them slamming into the wall. Miaka cried out in pain as her back slammed into the so solid wall. That was gonna be a hell of a bruise. As if she didn't have enough injuries!
Nakago pinned her body to the wall with his own, she could feel his hot breath on her neck. "If he touches me again.I'll kill myself.I won't hurt Tamahome like this.Tamahome.I wish you were here." Miaka thought.
Nakago saw the look in her eyes, a cross between wariness and despair, and he didn't understand it. Before Miaka could open her mouth to speak, he kissed her again, sliding his hands inside her blouse.
Miaka half screamed when his hands touched her, sensing the change in Nakago's mood. Something was really very wrong. Something had changed. He was no longer being as gentle as he was only moments before.
Something hard hit Miaka's stomach knocking the air out of her. Nakago watched her drop to the floor in front of him, trying to catch her breath.
"Now we can do this the hard way or.well, there's just the hard way."
Miaka held the knife blade to her wrist, causing Nakago to pause.
"If you so much as think about touching me, I'll kill myself."
"Humph."
The room became a sudden blur and before she realized it, Miaka found herself lying on the floor, spitting blood. Nakago now held the blade in his hand. Her entire abdomen ached where his foot had met her stomach. She looked up at the blonde general, a new rage burning in her. She started to get up when Nakago kicked again, harder this time, in the stomach. The pain was unbelievable. Suddenly Nakago was there, kneeling beside her, his hand tightly gripping her hair.
"Now you will learn to obey me as your friend has."
"Drop dead," Miaka spat.
The next few hours became a sudden blur of pain, humiliation, and an anger and fury to deep and far too hot to be called rage. But beneath it all, there was an overwhelming sense of despair and an all too vivid death wish.
"He will never want you again when he discovers what you've done," Nakago whispered in her ear.
Suddenly there were deep crimson stains on the floor and sheets. Blood.so much blood..too much.If too much blood was lost the body would die, as would the soul inside it, but at that moment, the soul just didn't care.
"Kill me..kill me..kill me.."
Over and over again the words fell from Miaka's lips only separated by the occasional "No..please no.." When Nakago had gone, leaving Miaka to face the horrible night and shadows alone she curled into a ball mourned. There were no other words for the pain that emanated from her as she screamed and cried. And there was definitely no word to describe the icy rage building in her heart. Too tired to remain conscious, Miaka gave herself over to the welcoming dark.
Sometime later she became aware of another presence in the room. It was probably Nakago.
"What do you want," she croaked.
" I came to rescue you ya know."
That voice. It had to be him.
"Chichiri!"
The blue haired monk approached the bed and felt his stomach do a flip flop when he saw all the blood. Miaka's blood. Nakago.had he.? Chichiri shook the thought from his mind. Later. There would be time for questions later. But now they had to get out of here.
To be continued.mwa hahahahaha!!! PLEASE REVIEW. Oh! And if the format comes out crappy it's not my fault!!!
