Bad Medicine
Part II
Disclaimer: ::writes in sand with withered broken stick:: Me no own Fushigi
Yugi.
Warnings: Mitsukake is a *little* OOC, watch out for random sightings of poor grammar and mechanical errors, for they might sneak up on you.
Side Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It really means a lot to me that you guys would even read my story, let alone took the time to comment on it.
Special Thanks to: Lumi-chan, Methodical Madness, Seren-chan, and Dragon
Goddess! You guys are great!
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There was a fierce pebble logged deep within the confines of his shoe. It irritated him to no end, but was how the entire day had been, hadn't it?
It had been one horrible of a day, and it wasn't even half over.
Still, he persisted on, despite this handicap; after all, he had to tract down his most trusted companion, Tama. He ran through his mind attempting to recall the last time he had seen the little furball.
He had been present at the break of dawn to greet Mitsukake with an ever so polite yawn in the face. The felines less than pleasant breath (no wonder, the poor cat had not seen a toothbrush in his entire lifetime) had knocked poor Mitsukake out for a solid half an hour. This was a daily ritual, and Mitsukake surely would have noticed had it not taken place!
Touching his calloused finger to his manly chin, he continued to ponder. He couldn't envision his Tama being upset with his caretaker, who else would pamper him like Mitsukake did?
Perhaps some jealous on looker had desired such a wonderful companion. But who would have the nerve to do such a thing?
Walking furiously fast (okay, so it was more like a ferocious hobble, due to the pesky pebble lodged in his footwear) Mitsukake headed towards the direction of the palace, intending to inform the imperial guard of his missing comrade. He would have Tama's mug shot on every milk carton by the time the sun had set.
Hearing voices, no, not the schizophrenic variety, (Mitsukake remembered to take his medication today) he turned his head to the source of the sound. It, of course, was none other than Miaka and Chichiri.
"I can't believe that Tamahome! Instead of spending his *chomp* time with lovely *BURP* me he goes off to town!" Miaka managed to complain through a mouthful of juicy tender fish, which was lodged all through out her teeth. "So, instead I hung out with Mits, which I guess is good… I could tell he REALLY needed the company."
The mage before her wiped a lump of massive half-chewed tuna from his face, thankful once again that he was wearing his mask. Who KNEW what type of rabid diseases their priestess carried from the chaotic future!
"Well, he is probably thinking up some crazy scam to earn some money, no da," stated while turning his head from another onslaught of half consumed fish, "you shouldn't take it personally…"
The rest of the conversation was blurred out as Mitsukake hobbled off in the direction of the market, with horrible images of Tama being abused at the hands of Tamahome racing through his tortured psyche!
* * *
After consuming a colossal number of free samples (or so the hag attending the cart claimed) of sushi neatly placed on wooden toothpicks, Mitsukake decided to continue on his conquest. He only departed the stand of food after the ill-tempered woman there started to glower at him with her little beady eyes.
You see, Mitsukake did not lack complete social competence, for he did catch a hint…
…once in awhile.
Okay, so him catching a hint was about as common as Hotohori being humble, but at LEAST Mitsukake TRIED to be more social as of late. Did he not try and spend more quality time with Chiriko, his fellow senshi? Didn't he make a new acquaintance, the psychotic singing dominatrix of a gardener? Was his morning not spent being kind and sociable to Miaka, and was he not making this little adventure to town?
It was beside the point that all this was forced upon Mitsukake. The POINT WAS that he was being more open minded, unlike Hotohori, who was indubitably attempting to persuade one of his abused servants into to hauling around a full length mirror upon their withered back until they developed a crippling case of multiple sclerosis.
Mitsukake shook his head, realizing that he had let his thoughts wander away from him. He was on a mission to rescue Tama….
…and to get more free samples of scrumptious foods (if time permitted).
After crossing the fruit stand, which was suspiciously sample free, (they had encountered Mitsukake fierce sampling skills before) he spotted the blue haired dashing miser that Miaka was so infatuated with.
He was standing at the corner leaning inconspicuously against the brick wall, which, looking closer had graffiti on it that stated:
CALL NAKAGO FOR A GOOD TIME! MEEEEEOW!
Upon reading the last word put two and two together in his mind.
A dark corner + Missing Tama + Greedy Tamahome = TAMAHOME THE PIMPING
SENSHI?!?!?
In the blink of an eye (which would have to have been affected with a severe case of conjunctivitis, for Mitsukake was REALLY slow) he was giving Tamahome the worst Indian Burn in the history of seishi kind.
"WHERE IS TAMA?!?!?!" Mitsukake growled through clenched teeth, clutching at
Tamahome's mutilated flesh. "TAMA IS AN HONEST KITTY, YOU WILL NOT DEGRADE HIM
SUCH A MANNER!"
Spurred on by the image of his beloved Tama slumming it in a pair of well-worn second hand fishnets, for Tamahome was too cheap to buy decent attire for himself let alone his prostitutes, Mitsukake continued his "interrogation".
"WHO did you carelessly PIMP my BELOVED TAMA TO?!?!?" roared the normally calm and sedate healing seishi, who apparently was a little…. upset at the present time.
Tamahome let out a rather, high-pitched squeak, as Mitsukake continued to manhandle the con artist before him. "I don't have your Tama! I've only got one man working for me!"
Lurking out from the seemingly endless depths of the shadows, a sandy broken voice croaked out, "Look Tamahome, I gotta be back by the end of the hour," sighed the darkened figure, who looked at a nearby sundial (since they lacked digital wrist watched in ancient China).
Stepping into the murky light of "the corner" the man continued through his toothless gums, "I have to sing and rehydrate the plants over at the palace, or else they'll start complaining and lose their bright outlook on life, sonny."
Ceasing his death grip upon Tamahome's battered and bruised arm, Mitsukake was presented with the image of the brittle old gardener in all his glory before him
(chains and whips included).
Feeling sick to his stomach, Mitsukake escaped, despite the vivacious pebble that dwelled within the entity of his shoe, away from that cesspool of bacteria and disease.
Wandering back into the streets, one question ran through Mitsukake's weary mind. If Tamahome was not pimping Tama and exploiting his innocence, then where was he?
TBC…
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Yeah, okay so that got really strange near the end… okay so the whole thing was really funky. I have no excuse for my strange behavior, at least not any good ones… ^__^
Thanks for reading! I'll love it if anyone comments!
