Shinku no En: The Crimson Bond
by UltraM2000
Disclaimer: Don't own Saiyuki…yet. The last of the severe fluff, M2000 style, and the last of the slight PWPness.
Everything seemed so far away within the darkness. It was not the cold, restricting gloom of Avici, but a velvety blackness that washed over everything like a soft, comforting blanket; the darkness of a desert night, of sleep, of nothingness. And it was in this darkness that the half-demon maid known as Houran, the child of the late Phoenix Demon King, lay with her companion between sleep and awakening.
There was darkness, and yet she could feel and see quite clearly, like she had been bestowed the vision of a cat. Gone was the feeling of falling, lost, into an endless abyss, the feeling that had plagued her since the night her family was massacred by a single ambitious human. Everything seemed real and solid and beautiful again, even this pitch-black, and Houran felt safe and secure, like a drowning person who has touched ground again. She moved slightly, opening her eyes. Something felt different, yet so very familiar.
Her companion, too, stirred, lifting his head in the calm, watchful way he'd always done when they had woken from their sleep. Of course. It all came back to her now. Why did she not recognise him? He was her protector, companion, friend…mate. The heart that she could feel beating strongly against her naked shoulder blade held the same strength as it had always had, the same passion. It was the heart of the only human she had ever opened her heart to.
"Minran," [1] a hoarse whisper hailed her. She looked up through the crimson hair that fell across her face into the beautiful crimson eyes she remembered so well. A smile was on her companion's lips, and she longed suddenly to touch his scruffy black hair again.
"Ken'in," [2] she replied, snuggling close to him.
500 years ago, the general Kenren Taisho was sent down from Heaven, ostensibly for crimes of treason. He maintained his crimson eyes and black hair, but his godliness was torn from him and he lost all memories of his previous existence. When he was but a young lad of seventeen, he had already left his town of birth and travelled the still-new land of Tougenkyou as a wanderer. That is how he found his fellow traveller, Minran.
She was a demoness, but resembled a heavenly nymph. Her hair was a deep, fiery red, like a phoenix's plumage, and her eyes were the deep blue of polished sapphire. She was graceful and delicate, with the most wonderful smile, and her sweet nature could surpass quite a few humans Ken'in had known. They began to travel together, and as time went on they grew to love each other with a love so pure and deep not even gods could deny it. They got married. They settled down. Minran took in Ken'in's male seed and became with child.
How wonderfully life had treated them. The two soulmates were very happy. The gods, however, were not. Some punishment this was turning out to be!
As soon as Ken'in's offspring was born, the enraged Tentei sent his soldiers to slay poor Minran, and sent a vicious plague down upon the land. The child died within a moon of its birth, breathing its last in Ken'in's arms. Henceforth, the people often saw an crimson-eyed human roaming across Tougenkyou, laughing and crying in one breath as his trembling hands clutched to his breast a baby's corpse no more than skin and bones. He could do no more but beg for food and drink and a place to shelter his unstable self, telling anyone who would hear about the taboo of a half-demon child, crimson-haired and crimson-eyed. Tentei made sure his errant general's words would ring true for the coming aeons by tweaking the genes of his creations ever so slightly, and made sure also he was around for a long time to spread the word. Ken'in died alone, as Tentei had hoped, a solitary and suffering figure at the age of 83, and continued to die a solitary and suffering figure for twenty incarnations and more.
Gods can be cruel, indeed, but they are never unwary.
"How fared our child?" Minran murmured. Ken'in tensed momentarily.
"A plague fell across the land not long after you died," he replied, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears from coming. "Our child took ill and passed on. The gods did not look kindly upon our bond. They took her away from me, like they took you."
"But I didn't go, Fuu. I never did." Minran's voice seemed softer, deeper now. Shadows seemed to tint her hair a rich and inky black. And why was she calling him Fuu?
Wasn't that his name? Ah, yes, it was.
He looked down at his partner, and wondered why he had expected to see red hair and blue eyes when Tsuru's hair was as dark as night and her eyes were as green as the jade envoys had brought on obeisance to their lord.
Minran (no, Tsuru. Her name was Tsuru.) wondered herself why she'd expected her blonde, blue-eyed companion to be crimson-eyed and raven-haired.
"Tsuru, my lady, we meet again," [3] he greeted her.
"Fuu, my lord," [4] she smiled. "I have waited for so long."
He was a samurai of the Sengoku Jidai, the era of the Warring Kingdoms. Fuu was tall and slender for a man, with equally unusual blond hair and blue eyes. He had Occidental blood somewhere in his ancestry. She was the samurai's partner and spy, a kunoichi or female ninja. Tsuru was a surprisingly small, frail-looking woman, but her brains quite made up for the fact. She could run mental rings round a few of the Emperor's advisors, although she wisely chose not to speak of such matters. Planning strategies with Fuu was quite enough.
They had been working together for quite some time, and there was a special sort of bond between them. Not love, something a little more intangible. They worked and acted as one entity, so much so to the point their emperor sometimes called them Moye and Ganjiang in jest, after two legendary swords forged in East Tougenkyou, identical in almost every aspect but a pair, male and female, just the same. Both of them had even gained scars in the same battle. Fuu had a thin rope of scar tissue making its way down the left side of his neck and Tsuru had three small scratches cut into her right cheek. It only had the effect of making her look mischievous.
Fuu was about thirty and Tsuru the age of twenty-one when he formally asked for her hand. She agreed, deeply honoured that he would consider a lowly kunoichi to be his wife, but he merely replied that they were both equals and he was greatly honoured himself to have such a dedicated partner. They made plans to be married on the morn after that year's Tanabata, the lover's festival of Tougenkyou, but on the festival's night itself a neighbouring kingdom launched a ferocious attack on them.
Fuu and his compatriots fought bravely, but there were too many and they were horribly unprepared for the onslaught. They were cut down like so many blades of grass, and Fuu himself was shot through the chest with some strange, fire-spitting sword they called a 'harquebus'. [5] Tsuru ran to him and cradled his dying body, both of them going unnoticed in the flurry of warfare.
The wound drained him quickly. Fuu didn't have enough time to profess his deep affection for his sister-at-arms. He never would. He settled for stroking her cheek softly, wiping away her tears.
"Sweet Tsuru, farewell. I will be back someday."
"Sou de gozaimasu ka," [6] breathed Fuu. "Now I remember." He ran his fingers through Tsuru's raven hair, ruby pinpoints shining suddenly where he had touched it, tracing the three small scars upon her cheek even as they faded. "I made that promise, but alas, I failed to keep it."
"It matters not now," Tsuru replied, smiling gently. She had always been so acceptant of the workings of Fate. "But back then, the lonely crane found it hard to fly without the wind to guide it."
"It has returned, as it promised," Fuu replied, in a voice low and smooth and gruff and familiar to Tsuru. He held out his hand to her as he stood, and she took it. Funnily enough, she'd never remembered his palms to be so rough, but yes, these were the hands of the man she loved.
"And for this, I am grateful," she said in a voice not quite her own.
"I am sorry I left. But they will never break us apart again…Houran."
Ah. Her name wasn't Tsuru now, was it? It wasn't Minran either. It was Houran. She was Houran. He was not Ken'in nor Fuu, just Gojyo.
And all at once, there they were, two half-demons in each other's embrace, keeping each other warm and safe. "You will no longer be alone. You have me to lean on," Gojyo whispered, saying the words he had always wanted to say.
"And you shall have me, Gojyo," she whispered, her eyes shining with tears.
Centuries had passed, but the en had found itself. Once more, they could be whole.
Houran awoke to find herself staring into crimson eyes mirroring her own, and smiled. She knew Gojyo had dreamt the same thing.
"We go back pretty far, don't we?" he whispered with a small laugh.
"We sure do," she murmured, snuggling closer to him.
"Ne, Houran…you cold?"
"A little bit."
"I know several good ways to get warm," Gojyo said huskily, nuzzling her throat.
Nothing more was said that night.
[1] Bright Orchid.
[2] Curtain-Sign.
[3] Crane.
[4] Wind.
[5] Type of rifle.
[6] Polite version of Sou desu ka – 'is that so?'
And that, my friends, concludes Shinku no En! Koko made arigatou! (Thank you for everything until now!)