Sorry that it's taken so long for this chapter to get put up online. I've been extremely busy with classes and stuff. On the plus side, I'm finally back and plan to get down to business. Big thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter – Hydra-Star, Momiji-chan Wa Baka, silver celeste and Ispreno. It made my day and I'm glad you guys liked it. I know this story focuses mainly on Taka and Miaka's relationship but I couldn't help but put in a little more about Keisuke. I always thought that he was somewhat ignored in the first series. Anyway, we'll now get back to the actual plot. I've gone a little overboard with the sap in this section, but considering the fact that I have no love life of my own, is it really surprising that I would choose to live vicariously through my stories? I haven't had much of a chance to proof read this but I'm putting it up anyway to stop the various death threats (you know who you are!). I'll work on this again later with the next chapter. Anyway, for those of you who are interested, I've got a one-shot Tasuki fic up as well. Feel free to read and enjoy. If you don't care for it, let me know as well. And now I'll go to the story.

   Chapter 11

The attic was unnaturally silent as the reading of the book continued. Taka had started to read parts of the book aloud but had to give that up once his voice started to break. Now the only sound that could be heard was their soft breathing and the occasional harsh intake of breath when the telling of the story was too vivid to bear. The occasional rustling of pages seemed to echo in the bright yellow lights. And yet it seemed as though darkness surrounded them, shrouding them in grief. Each could hear the rhythmic thump of their blood as chills ran through them with each new word revealed, each memory relived. The ending seemed no nearer than a minute ago and yet the page had been turned. How long could they bear the sorrow? Until they cracked or a happy ending came to be?

   Miaka gripped Taka's hand tightly as they read through one of the toughest sections in the book together  – Nuriko's death. She watched as his eyes darkened with a vague sense of sorrow as the purple-haired seishi confessed his love as a man for the maiden of Suzaku. It was the next day that his death had taken place. Miaka had often wondered if it was because of her that Nuriko had chosen to go up to Mount Black that day… whether it was because she had made it so apparent that she didn't and couldn't return his feelings. Nuriko had been so supportive that time, giving her the chance to deal with it alone or with Taka as he rode off on his mission. If she had ever thought that he wouldn't come back, she would never have let him go! And yet, she wouldn't want to change anything and make his death seem meaningless. Nuriko had died in a way that befitted him – with dignity, honour and courage; and always doing what he believed was right. Besides, he was always with her, even if she couldn't see him anymore. His bracelets sat in the drawer of her desk, to be worn on occasions of great meaning. It was the one way she could keep him with her forever and ever.

   As a man, I guess you could say that I love Miaka. But don't worry Tamahome. You two are made for each other. I could never hope to make her as happy as you do. And it's my job to see that you continue to make her happy. Now, would you like to try another Nuriko special?

   God! The memories still had the power to lance straight down towards her soul. Miaka knew she should never have eavesdropped that night. If she hadn't… things might have turned out differently. And yet, she couldn't be sorry for knowing that much about Nuriko – that he would love her enough to put her happiness above his own. Hotohori had done the same and yet, it had taken him a long while to come to terms with her absolute love for Tamahome. Hoto had fought for her at first without a thought but the one that stated that she was his. Nuriko had looked at the situation and had calmly accepted it. For that knowledge, she would always be grateful. It added a certain special something to her memories of him. Miaka leaned closer to Taka, to help in his grief, as well as to gain some measure of comfort herself. It would be time for dinner soon. She had heard her mother's voice calling out that the table would be set in ten minutes. For the first time in her life after the book, Miaka wondered if she could skip dinner. The horror of the memories had deadened her senses and all she wanted to do at that point was curl up and sleep.

   She laid her head on Taka's lap and shut her eyes against the memories that were flooding her mind - memories of flashing amethyst eyes and that gay laugh… and the hugs that seemed to chase away all the dark. Hugging herself, she tried to concentrate on only the happy memories, but the bad ones seemed to seep through – seeing him lying at the entrance to the cave, the blood around him sinking rapidly into the ice-cold snow, his last duty performed as faithfully as he could…. Taka chose that moment to touch her hair, lightly and gently, gliding his palm across the silky strands in an almost absent caressing motion. Warmth and love flooded her system at his touch, the only touch that she knew could banish her demons. 'Everything will be alright'. She would have to hold strong to her motto, especially now when Taka's emotional well being was on the skids. Much as she hated to admit it, the sight of him crying had shaken her deeply. In their relationship, she had always played the role of the emotional partner while Taka played the strong, supportive one. The thought that this fundamental aspect of their relationship had suddenly shifted discomfited her. She was trying to ignore the feeling, but more often than not, it would sneak up on her and cause her to shudder at this unknown.

 And they kept reading… about her horror after he left them, her inability to cope with the death of her one of her closest friends in the book. And then, when forced to confront her nightmare, moving on to complete the mission that he had chosen to give his life for. The struggle that ensued, and the overcoming of the test for the shinzaho. And then the horror that awaited them when it was stolen away from under their noses by those who were so very obviously less worthy. And then her decision to get it back. Miaka winced at the thought that Taka would have to read about the fact that she had actually believed the fake Taitsu-kun… and had been willing to sleep with Nakago to help further their cause and regain their lost shinzaho. Her head had been so cluttered with guilt and fear that she had never even considered the fact that Taitsu-kun had specifically warned her about not being able to share her body with any person. She hadn't remembered that she was supposed to remain pure because she was so sure that it was her fault; and that this test was some form of punishment to atone for her part in Nuriko's death. She must have been more like Yui than she thought, because she too had been willing to accept the hate and betrayal that would ensue after she had accepted the hand that she believed that fate had dealt her.

   Suddenly unable to deal with the thought that Taka would turn the page and stumble into that part of the story, she yanked on his hand quickly and tried to distract him. "Mother came back a while ago. We'll need an excuse for why you're over so late. And also, we'll need to eat some dinner…", she trailed off nervously. Taka slowly shut the book and looked at her carefully, noting the distress she was trying so valiantly to hide in her bruised eyes. Her hand twisted in his sweater – a sure sign of worry, as was the idle chatter that she continued with. "I'm getting quite hungry. It's been so long since I last ate. I mean, Keisuke left a tray for me and everything, but you know my appetite! I really think sometimes that I must have worms or something. Keisuke used to tell me that when I was younger to make me cry so that he could eat my dessert. I hope the dessert today is good. Dessert is the most important part of the meal. Eh heh heh", she ended nervously, avoiding his eyes.

   Taka quickly hooked a finger under her chin and raised her head so that he could look at her when he asked the question, "Miaka? Daijobu?". "Iie", Miaka shook her head quickly, far too quickly for it to actually be considered a concrete 'no'. The jerky gesture caused some of her hair to fall forward from its normal resting place behind her ears, such that it draped forward in a silky curtain along the tips of his fingers. "Don't lie to me Miaka. There's no need to try to hide whatever it is, you can always tell me anything", he murmured, his warm breath fanning her face, causing the auburn strands to sway gently as they feathered across her forehead. Miaka looked up timidly into his eyes and opened her mouth to tell him of her fears – the thought that after seeing how weak she had been at certain times, he might think her not worthy anymore, the shame that she felt for being lured time after time into Nakago's plans; but the words wouldn't come. Her lips parted but no sound emerged until finally all she was able to say was "I didn't know what I was doing at certain points in the book. It was all so rushed that… I wasn't always aware of what I was doing…"

   She turned away quickly and stood up, dusting off the seat of her shorts. "It's time for us to go down now. Mother will be wondering what we're up to", she mumbled hastily before almost running towards the door. She had just turned the doorknob when a large, capable hand braced itself against the door. She stared hard at the elegant, long fingered hand as it barred her only escape. She had always loved Taka's hands; they represented him in so many ways – gentle, elegant, strong, capable… and the numerous calluses on his palms showed that he was no stranger to hard manual labour. She turned slowly and braced herself against the door before looking up at him. She could see the lines of anger that bracketed his mouth with temper and yet, his eyes showed mostly worry and a bit of fear. The day had not gone well on either of them. Her nerves were almost screaming with tension and fatigue. And he looked no better, with his still red–rimmed eyes and slumped posture. She knew that he required her to stay strong for him, but she was breaking, cracking like fine china under the silent stress. With every page that they turned, her heart was leaping into her throat as each one of her sins was paraded, the conflicts that she had been forced to face. She wanted to be there for him, but she also knew that it was quite likely that she wouldn't be able to keep from breaking down for much longer.

   This break for dinner would do the both of them some good. It would give them the chance to return to normalcy for a while where they would be able to pretend that they hadn't relived those days. She looked up from the floor, about to explain her thoughts to Taka but before she could say a word, his warm mouth covered her own. She could feel his lips brush gently against hers before deepening the pressure and causing them to part. She eagerly opened her mouth for him, willing to take this moment with him. They reached for each other as emotions overflowed into actions. After facing the prospect of so much death, past or present, one loves to reaffirm life with physical comfort. And the two of them took comfort in the heat of each other's bodies, the press of hot lips and cold hands that took… and took… until being forced to break apart, needing to drag air back into starved bodies.  But they remained pressed to each other. In that moment, there was no need to talk, to explain fears or feelings. Everything is always understood in that perfect moment, when time stands still and one lives outside reality.

   But moments always end and so did this one. Pulling away carefully, Taka leaned over once more to brush a kiss against Miaka's nose. "I love you, no matter what you did. It doesn't matter what happened in the book. I was a different person in the book too, but you love me now anyway. Do you understand what I'm trying to say? That Miaka was you, but you aren't her anymore. And I love you… and her. But she's in the past… and you're my now." Miaka smiled in understanding. Taka always seemed to know exactly what to say to make her feel better. This moment was a temporary fix and the fears would return when least expected; neither of them chose to kid themselves about that fact. But for now they were all right. Smiling brown gazed into sincere gray with a look that was a kiss in itself.  Never breaking eye contact, Taka leaned forward and opened the door, pulling Miaka towards him once more with the motion of the door as it swung inwards. And enveloping her tiny hand in his, he led the way out the door and down to face the rest of the family. The book could wait until later. Miaka was his world and he wouldn't hurt her. She needed a rest and to be honest, so did he. They could always come back after and that world would still wait for them… and welcome them into it's pages.