I'm back at last! Sorry it took so long to get this particular chapter out. Not only was my cat sick but I also had to deal with a horrible test in economics. I now remember why exactly I'm aiming for a major in English literature - no math! Anyway, big thanks to faithful reviewers and curses on friends who swear that they reviewed even when they didn't. Certain friends should remember the blackmail worthy material I'm now storing in this rather vicious mind of mine, eh? Big thanks to Hydra-Star for letting me ramble on about my ideas. I wouldn't be able to write without figuring some stuff out and not very many people out here watch anime, let alone read fan fiction. Thanks also to Momiji-chan Wa Baka who reviews extremely faithfully and gives me that little push to keep going. And now, let's get on with the story –
Chapter 9
Miaka woke slowly, aware of the empty space beside her on the bed. Yawning and squinting her eyes, she looked at the clock on the table at her bedside. Noting the time, she gasped and bolted out of bed. It was almost six in the evening – the time her mother returned from work every day. Which meant that any signs of emotional upheaval had to be taken care of and the book needed to be hidden again. She didn't want her mother to find out about The Book of the Four Gods. From the scenario that had taken place earlier in the afternoon, Miaka was quite sure that the book still possessed its magical capabilities and therefore, needed to be carefully guarded. She slipped out of bed and walked towards her bathroom intending to take a bath and freshen up a bit before confronting the situation she knew she would find outside her door. If she was to be of help to anyone, then she needed to be fresh, clean… and not suffering from morning breath.
Inside her bathroom she stripped quickly before turning to look at her reflection in the mirror. The swelling around her eyes had gone up once again, probably as a result of her crying jag in the after noon with Taka. Her eyes looked large and red against the vaguely yellow backdrop of her swollen eyelids. Miaka stared at her face carefully noting the tension that was evident from the strained pallor of her face, the misery in her eyes and the tight thin line of her normally smiling mouth. The same mouth twisted wryly. She looked like a person who had recently recovered from a long and debilitating disease. Miaka forced herself to look into the eyes of her reflection once again while going over the events of the afternoon. Taka had discovered the book and had read it, until some part beyond which he had been unable to continue. They're all dead! … My fault… all dead! She tried to block out his voice moaning those words into the crook of her neck. They had somehow been permanently branded into her mind and she needed to get away. Turning sharply from the mirror, she brushed her teeth hurriedly and stepped into the shower.
Once firmly ensconced inside her shower, Miaka took a few moments to breath deeply and release her thoughts. She turned the hot water on and let the heat soothe away all the tension in her body. Then, when she finally felt peaceful and drained of all her worries, she focused her ki and used it to see what was happening outside in the rest of the house. She would need this knowledge to gird herself with. She could feel Keisuke's soft, calming ki in his room. As was common nowadays, she was able to sense a little pain and anger hidden deep within the ki. Miaka frowned slightly. Whenever she attempted to ask Keisuke what was wrong or if he needed to talk, he tended to brush her off as though she wouldn't be able to understand whatever it was. The thought that he wouldn't let her help was hurtful and infuriating all at the same time. It didn't matter what the problem was or even if she couldn't fix it, it might help Keisuke to know that someone else cared and that he could talk to her whenever he needed. Miaka sighed slightly in exasperation for her brother's stubbornness. She would have to try again later after she helped Taka recover from the effects of the book.
She focused her ki once again and concentrated on feeling for Taka's ki. She frowned as she scanned the rooms downstairs as well as those on the same floor. Taka wasn't in any of them. Could he have gone home? Keisuke would never have let him out the door in the condition he had been in, of that Miaka was certain. Where could he be unless…? Miaka focused her ki into the attic and sure enough, felt Taka's ki as he sat huddled in a corner. She could sense his normally warm and comforting aura fill with his disbelief, his pain, his confusion and his anger. She sighed as she sank down against the wall of the shower stall as thoughts flooded her mind. "He really shouldn't be reading the book without someone there with him. What if something happens?", she thought to herself. Granted that the book had allowed him to regain his memories so far, but was that what she really wanted? Tamahome was a wonderful person and she would love him always, but she loved Taka now. And the only way she had been able to do that was to treat the two of them as two separate entities. Sure they shared the same soul, but they had lived different lives. They were two totally different people and she wasn't sure whether it would be possible for the two of them to co-exist in one body. On the other hand, what if while reading he was suddenly absorbed into the book again? All her fears came rushing back. What if Tamahome being returned to her had been some sort of a mistake and his drive to read the book was because of his soul being pulled back towards the world he had left behind? There was no actual reason for the gods to have allowed them to be united. What if he was pulled back in and they could only be reunited in death, just like Tatara and Suzano?
Miaka shook her head from side to side as if to negate that very idea and shut her eyes tight against the possibility it presented. She knew that their love was strong enough such that she would wait until the end of time if necessary to be reunited with her love, but she realized how much she would be missing out on if that happened. She would never have the wedding of her dreams, with Taka standing at the end of the aisle waiting for her… they would never have their first night together… they would never buy their own house… never have any children… all the things that she knew she so badly wanted. "I won't let that happen! They can't take him from me now!" Her eyes flew open as she made her decision. She wouldn't let him go! If he went back into the book then she would go with him. She had lived there before and she would do it again. It didn't matter that the characters were apparently fictional – they were real enough to her and that was all that mattered. Yanking herself up off the floor, she stood up on slightly trembling legs and finished her shower hurriedly. She had to go be with him.
Wrapping herself in a towel, Miaka hurriedly pushed open the door and strode into her room again. She flung the doors of her cupboard open before rooting around for her comfort clothes. She had a feeling that the day was going to be an especially long one and she would need the back up of familiar old clothes to get through it. As she moved her hands about at the back hunting for her favorite pair of faded green shorts and white shirt, her hand brushed against an old and stained brown skirt hidden in the back of the cupboard. Miaka trembled slightly as she drew it out. It was part of the old school uniform that she had worn through her adventures in the other world. The shirt and the jacket were also stored along with it. She had been unable to part with this particular outfit in spite of all the rips in the material and the blood that covered parts of it. The smell of stale sweat and dried blood floated from it causing Miaka to wrinkle her nose slightly against it. Small flecks of dried blood came off on her hands, staining them again. She stared at the outfit for a minute, lost in memories before shoving it back into the furthermost corner of her wardrobe. She looked at her hands after, thinking, " Why is it that no matter how hard I tried, their blood still stains my hands?" She shook herself out of her stupor again and quickly washed her hands. Dropping to her knees in front of her cupboard, she reached into the lowest section of the cupboard, exclaiming in triumph when her hand encountered the familiar feel of soft, worn cotton. Pulling out the old shirt and shorts set, she quickly changed into them and tied her hair back in a loose ponytail.
She was about to head up to the attic when a wonderful smell drifted out of the kitchen and tantalized her nostrils. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her how long it had been since her last meal. Thoughts raced through her head acting just like a good Miaka and a bad Miaka. At first the bad Miaka said, " you should go down and eat. What's five more minutes?". Miaka was nodding furiously at this thought when the good Miaka spoke saying, " But Taka has always been there for you. You know he needs you to be there". The bad Miaka looked irritated before starting again "But smell that great food! It's been too long since you've eaten and you're still recovering from your ordeal". Miaka looked almost convinced at this thought but then the good Miaka stated "But then, what if he gets pulled into the book while you're stuffing your face? Would you be able to forgive yourself then?" Miaka turned towards her bad counterpart to see what her rebuttal would be but bad Miaka just looked at her and stated "she's right" before both of them disappeared back into the deepest recesses of her mind.
Miaka looked around for a second convinced that she was going mad. Even so, her subconscious had given her the answer she had been looking for. She looked longingly towards the kitchen for a moment before turning her back on the smell and heading resolutely for the stairs. And that was why she nearly missed seeing the tray at the foot of the stairs. She would have stepped on the rice if the wonderful smell of food hadn't gotten to her nose first. Looking down at the moderate fare of rice and stir-fry, she nearly flooded the house with drool. While gulping down the meal, she gave thanks to Suzaku for a brother like Keisuke who knew her well enough to predict her intentions. By his small gesture, he had definitely made her feel ten times better and now that her stomach had been tended to, she felt like she could take on the world.
She left the now empty tray on the side table at the foot of the stairs and walked up to join Taka. Together, they would read the rest of the book. And who knows, maybe she would find some peace of mind in it's reading as well. The events couldn't hurt her any more than they already had. And with Taka by her side, she would be able to deal with both her failures and her triumphs. Plus, she had the good fortune to know already that there would be a happy ending waiting for them when they finished the book. People may have died, but she had done her best and she had that to hold on to if the reading got really bad. She would not be a coward anymore, especially not when Taka needed her to be with him, to hold him while he remembered the others - Nuriko with his big heart and his strong dress sense, Hotohori with his calm presence and loving smile, Tasuki with his fiery temper and his protective air, Chichiri with his smiling mask and good advice, Mitsukake with his shy smile and quiet strength and Chiriko with his unique blend of knowledge and ignorance. And he would have to remember Tamahome… Tamahome who loved her… saved her… held her… touched her…. The Tamahome who had never let her down.
She missed them all. And she would do their memory justice by not cowering at the corner of the stairs but by facing her destiny at Taka's side. She climbed up the stairs quickly and walked to the attic door. She took one last deep gulp of air before she turned the doorknob. Everything in her was crying out to go back, to run away from what she might find in the book. She was torn between the urge to run and cower and the urge to help Taka. Bracing herself for the worst, she threw open the door. But this time there was no crying or calling book. This time there was just Taka, sitting in the corner of the room, looking at her with surprise and relief in his deep gray eyes. He was sitting with the book on his lap, clutching it tightly with fingers that had gone white with strain. He looked deep into her eyes, waiting for her decision, waiting for her to go to him… and all her choices were just that simple.