SOLDIER OF DESTINY
Warnings: shounen ai, language. It's about Tasuki, what do you expect?
Disclaimers: If I owned Fushigi Yuugi, I wouldn't be writing FANFICS, now would I?
Impossible, impossible . . . a litany in his brain that would not cease. He can't be dead – it's fucking impossible!
Kouji remembered shouting those words when she'd told him. He'd been lounging in his chambers, brooding, when a messenger had announced that the Priestess of Suzaku was being escorted up the mountain path. Ecstatic, he'd rushed to the balcony to confirm the news – yes, she was there, dressed in those strange garments of hers, accompanied as always by her loyal guardian and lover, Tamahome of the Suzaku Shichi Seishi, and one of the outer sentries.
He was acutely aware that they were alone, the young redhead he longed to see again not with them. A strange foreboding chill raced down his spine.
Fiercely shoving the feeling aside, Kouji raced to the fortress gates to wait for his guests. He greeted them effusively, as if he could ward off any bad news with sheer alacrity. They returned his greetings quietly, neither of them willing to meet his eyes. The bandit chief clung stubbornly to his smile as the feeling of alarm got stronger, filling him with dread.
Then the words he'd been hoping and praying were not true fell from her lips. " Forgive me, Kouji, she whispered, her green eyes filling with tears as she sought Tamahome's comforting embrace, " I'm sorry, so sorry, but Tasuki – he'd dead."
It seemed to Kouji that the world came to a screeching halt. He stood transfixed, unable to move, unable to think. His heart struggled to absorb this information. " Liar," he whispered hoarsely, trembling with disbelief, " He can't be dead. It's fucking impossible!"
She flinched, momentarily filling him with remorse, but his grief quickly and completely crushed it. The precious second of denial gone, his hand reached for his face, an instinctive yet futile gesture to prevent his emotions from overflowing. He fell to his knees, fists clenching in the dirt as the grief and despair wrenched painfully in his chest.
Impossible! Impossible! Dear Suzaku – Tasuki!
His desolate wail of agony echoed through the lonely mountain peaks.
* * *
The young bandit chief stood outside the entrance to the fortress' small temple – bandits, as a rule, were not religious, but it never hurt to be on the safe side – his thoughts dwelling painfully on what lay beyond the polished doors, steeling himself for the unpleasant task ahead.
Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Kouji pushed the temple doors open and stepped inside, closing the oak panels firmly behind him. He didn't care if he was being rude. Tasuki had been his best friend since before he could remember, like a brother, and damn if he didn't deserve a little respect for that.
The temple was lit by hundreds of candles, filling the room with soft, flickering light. At the end of the room, on the stone altar beneath the watchful gaze of the bird-god's golden statue, the body of Tasuki lay as if in slumber, his hands folded serenely over his chest, his clothes concealing any evidence of the fatal wounds beneath.
Kouji approached the altar slowly, like a man being led to his execution, until he stood beside it, gazing at Tasuki's face. He looked so alive, his red hair ablaze with colour. Kouji couldn't believe that he'd never see the redhead again, never hear him swear and curse fluently at the slightest provocation, never get into drunken brawls at taverns when some cocky bastard challenged him.
" Hey, Genrou, " Kouji whispered, reverting to Tasuki's pet name, as his fingers toyed mindlessly with the unruly fringe. Though he knew it was impossible, he'd hoped that somehow, at the sound of his voice, Tasuki would wake up and bare his fangs in a cocksure grin and laugh at him for falling for such a stupid trick.
Of course, the body remained motionless. Kouji sighed.
" I heard how you saved them."
Tamahome had told him in the privacy of Kouji's chambers the night before.
He and Tasuki had been accompanying the Priestess, ill and exhausted from her latest misadventure into the heart of enemy territory, heading for the city of Sairon, when Kutou's supreme war general had taken them by surprise. Tasuki had at once leapt in front of his companions, barking an arrogant challenge to the other man, as Tamahome picked up the Priestess and sprinted for the safety of Sairon, even as Tasuki's magical iron tessen sent a scorching fireball blazing through the forest.
Reaching Sairon, Tamahome had entrusted the Priestess to the care of the other Suzaku Shichi Seishi, and raced back to help Tasuki, only to find he was too late.
" It was horrible, " Tamahome had admitted softly. " Tasuki was on his knees, his tessen right through his stomach. Nakago – that bastard – had one hand on the tessen, the other clenched in Tasuki's hair, wrenching his head back. There was blood everywhere – Tasuki was coughing up dark ribbons of the stuff – and Nakago had this huge smirk on his face, like he was loving every fucking minute of it. "
Kouji could barely stand to hear Tamahome recount Tasuki's final moments, yet he forced himself to listen.
" Nakago said something – I was too far away to hear what – then Tasuki told him he was a fucking warped bastard, and Nakago shoved the tessen even further into Tasuki's stomach. Tasuki kinda choked and shuddered, then went limp and slid to the ground. Then Nakago looked at me, sneered, and disappeared. I don't even remember which way he went. He just disappeared.
" I ran to Tasuki's side, lifted his head. I thought he was dead until he coughed up more blood. Then he opened one eye, real slow, and looked at me. He tried to speak, but I told him to be quiet, that I'd get Mitsukake to heal him real good as soon as we got to Sairon. He tried to laugh, but choked instead. It hurt just to hear him. He told me to . . . to go kick Nakago's fucking arse . . . and that he was sorry. Then he died."
" You're one fucking stupid kid, Genrou, taking on a war general like that." Kouji smiled weakly, still fingering Tasuki's fringe, "But I don't blame you. I would have done the same."
His saddened cobalt eyes strayed to the weapon that lay on a ledge just above the body. It was Tasuki's tessen, cleaned of its owner's blood, and shining dully in the candlelight. As the chief of the Mt Raiku bandits, it was Kouji's right to take the weapon as his own and wield it, but the mere thought filled him with loathing. The tessen was enhanced by the magic of a powerful sorcerer, customized to Tasuki's strengths and weaknesses as one of the Suzaku Shichi Seishi. It was Tasuki's weapon, and his alone. Kouji could no more wield it than he could bring Tasuki back to life, although he would have given anything to do so.
Kouji bit his lip, determined not to cry, as his gaze fixed once again on Tasuki's impassive face, remembering.
Remembering a brash, cocky youngster who'd grown into a brash, cocky young man with a wild grin and an untameable blaze of red hair; a fiery young man with a coarse tongue and quick temper, but a heart of gold; a passionate young man who loved his friends unconditionally and hated his enemies with fervour; a courageous soldier of God and of destiny.
" Dammit, Genrou! " he exploded suddenly, bringing his fist down violently on the stone altar, " You promised me you'd come back! " Kouji's voice sank to an agonized whisper, " You promised me . . . "
He could no longer fight the tears, and he pressed his face into Tasuki's lifeless chest as he wept, sobbing his friend's name over and over. " Genrou . . . my precious Genrou . . . "
That night, they laid the body on a funeral pyre and set it alight, the dancing flames a fitting tribute to the one who had mastered several fire summoning techniques. The smoke stung Kouji's eyes as he watched it drift skyward, bearing Tasuki's soul back to the heavens, where the constellation of the wing shone brightly against the velvet night. The ashes were released into the winds so they would scatter all over the mountains he had loved so much; the small pile of rocks and name stick erected on the cremation site merely a symbolic grave.
Kouji, the albeit reluctant leader of the Mt Raiku bandits, continued to add legendary exploits and infamy to the tales of the Mountain Bandits. But every now and then, when he couldn't sleep or simply needed to be alone, he climbed to Tasuki's Plateau and traced out the constellation for which his young partner was named as the mountain winds danced and played around him.