Chapter 4 - The Chance of the Morning
The coming of the morning is like a bee among the flowers,
He buzzes and roves wherever he needs to go...
Springtime passes and the flowers no longer blossom,
Pained in your heart, there's nowhere to go or stay.
The longer she stared at the dark shape the more detail she was able to discern; the blanket was pulled up to his chest, his head was turned away, left hand tucked behind his head, and the other arm was lost somewhere in the darkness. Belatedly she realized she was actually looking at a bare arm and, with a secret inward smile, tucked away the knowledge that Chichiri slept shirtless. If he chose to sleep without other garments on she refused to speculate on the possibility. There was no denying that such thoughts would be pleasant and wholly distracting in the future, but something inside her cautioned against ogling this man too much. He was no longer just a character and a picture to hang up in her room. He was a real man who might not appreciate sidelong glances and daydreams starring his naked torso. Still, that didn't mean that while she was awake and he was asleep she couldn't take a few moments to gaze upon her good fortune, did it?
Careful not to disturb her slumbering bed-mate, Marissa slowly turned on her side. Now with her upper body facing Chichiri's direction she rested her head against her inner elbow, wishing silently for just a little more light to be available. It was unusually comforting to have him sleeping in the same room with her, albeit several feet away and on the floor. This man was a warrior, powerful, intelligent, mystical, someone who had loved and lost. He had powers beyond her wildest imagination, had conversed with gods, appeared to be perfectly at ease with people from other worlds, and not least of all chose to wear a permanent scar upon his body as a reminder of his mortality. He'd single handily tended to her wounds and might have even saved her life in the process. She owed him everything.
But what exactly did "owing him everything" entail? That returned her thoughts once again to her original question of why she was here in the first place. Was she here to tell him about the future? To pop in, deliver a message, and then leave again? Or was it mere coincidence that their paths had crossed and she was here for an entirely different reason, to take part in a story unknown to the readers of Fushigi Yuugi? Did it even involve Chichiri and the seishi's future confrontations with Tenkou? Should she say something about that, and if so, what? Did she even have a right to mess with the storyline? Maybe this had happened in the story after all, but by the time Miaka and Taka showed up she had already returned to her own world. What if, what if, maybe, maybe - all the speculations were making her dizzy.
She shut her eyes and exhaled deeply, releasing the nagging questions from her thoughts and letting her mind drift out into the darkness. No matter what reasons existed for her being here, she was as helpless as a lamb in her current condition, that much was clear. At least Miaka had the imbibed powers of a Miko at her disposal, which not least of all consisted of a contingent of warriors protecting her every move. She on the other hand was no Miko, which in her mind correlated as "not worth paying attention to". So what options did that leave her? It meant she needed to figure out how this world worked, to learn how to protect herself, and to blend in while she was here. The language was going to be a problem, that fact had shown itself already. But considering she couldn't do anything about it except to begin learning Japanese in earnest, it seemed to be her only real stumbling block. Perhaps Chichiri would let her stick around for awhile and learn the language off him.
Peeking open her eyes, Marissa gazed upon the most powerful living seishi still alive, and felt like pinching herself. He might not agree to anything complicated, or even like the idea, but there was no harm in at least asking if he was willing to teach her the ways of this world. Customs, language, locations, maybe a few harmless tricks to keep her out of harms way. If anything, maybe he'd see it as a way to get her out of his hair sooner. She had a sinking, uncomfortable feeling that despite Chichiri's well-meaning care, mending a total stranger and being forced to stay stationary was not something he would enjoy over the long term. If she played her cards right, perhaps even offered an exchange of future knowledge, she might get a crash course in ancient China out of all this.
Satisfied with her resolution, and feeling tendrils of sleep curl through her mind once more, Marissa rolled over onto her back and stretched her arms above her head. She was done crying and asking questions she couldn't answer. All that mattered now was getting out of this bed and figuring out what was waiting for her in this world. She just hoped that Chichiri would be the one to help her do it.
= = = = = = =
A child was crying, muffled sobs from behind a low line of bushes near the wall. Jasmine smelled strong and fragrant in the early evening air, like a blanketing perfume that did more than the high wall ever could to give the garden a sense of solitude and privacy from the outside world. Soft glowing lanterns hung across the porch and spilled their colorful light out across the flagstone path which wound its way through the garden. A small koi pond and footbridge arching over it were the garden's prized centerpieces. Every smooth rock around the pond was perfectly shaped to fit beside its partner, and a sea of sand encircling the pond had been raked into perfect parallel swirls that resembled a twisting river making its journey into the miniature lake. One solitary weeping willow stood on the other side of the garden, amplifying the impression of loneliness as its branches caressed the ground with feather light whispers. A copper lantern tarnished green with age stood atop a stone column in the very center of the enclosure, its flickering candle a beacon of flickering light to guide the lost traveler through this garden of self-discovery.
The crying continued among the sounds of cicadas awakening with the night. Approaching the wall, the branches of a jasmine hedge parted to reveal a young girl clad in simple clothes, a turban of fabric wrapped around her head. In front of her bent knees the still body of a young fox lay. She wept heartbrokenly into her small hands, many of her tears falling upon the brown coat where they glistened in the fading twilight.
Rubbing her face, she lowered her hands and began digging a hole in the soft dirt. She was speaking softly during her labor, mournful words that slipped out between the hiccups of her sobs. "Sorry... I didn't mean... my fault... I shouldn't have... you didn't know... my fault..."
When the hole was several inches deep she reverently picked up the stiff corpse and laid it in the trench, her hands lingering over the soft fur of her departed friend. "They were so mean... I'm sorry..."
"Ming," a male voice said. Through the child's eyes a man appeared on the other side of the bushes and looked down at his daughter sternly. "You waste your tears over that creature. If you had listened to me and not fed it against my wishes, it would not have been so foolish to trust humans. Your brother did us a favor by killing the wretched beast."
"Yes, father," she whispered obediently as she continued to fill the hole.
"Leave it!" he barked. Robes rustling with impatience, her father turned and swept towards the house.
Ming moved the last handful of dirt atop the fox's body and bowed low over the grave with tears streaming down her face. "Qing yuan liang wo."
= = = = = = =
Marissa awoke with cooling tears on her cheeks and a sense of profound sadness gripping her heart. The contents of the distressing dream eluded her, and the harder she tried to snatch pieces of the hazy images the faster they seemed to dissipate out of her memory. Only the emotional blow of a deep loss clung tightly. It was lonely and disturbing, as though she'd unexpectedly lost something she hadn't even been aware of having in the first place.
An instinctual part of her mind warned against probing the emotion too deeply, unless she wanted to find herself trapped in the moment of the feeling. Heavily emotional dreams were deceptive and dangerous if one let their faux pain spread too far. She knew it could easily affect her feelings for the rest of the day, like a ghost lingering just under her conscious thoughts, manipulating her feelings and leaving her unexplainably melancholy, if she dwelled on it too long.
Regrettably, she was no stranger to these types of dreams. They didn't occur often, but when they did, she knew she was better off to forget the incident as best she could. What puzzled her was that this was the second time since her arrival that a deeply emotional dream had taken hold of her night fantasies. The coincidence was bothersome and emotionally draining. Being subjected to a dream that had the power to leave her feeling like her brain had been rewired overnight was enough to make anyone question their sanity. Reaching up both hands to rub away the sleep and dried tears from her eyes, she used the pain of the pressure to push away the last remnants of the dream, determined to prevent its memory from ruining her day.
Withdrawing her hands she squinted in the dim light and twisted her head to look across the room. Through the open shutters was a sky dotted with clouds, still misty gray in the early morning. The floor in the room was bare save for the lonely mat. It seemed once again Chichiri had managed to rise before her. No doubt he would be cooking breakfast in the next room, or out fishing to catch their meal. With enough prior knowledge of the seishi's habits, combined with her own observations, it hadn't been hard to figure out how the man occupied the majority his time - lots and lots of meditation.
Against her left side Tama-chan was curled into a tight ball and drowsing in a deep sleep. Not wishing to wake him, Marissa sat up slowly and carefully, but the cat simply continued to purr quietly with one paw over his eyes. With both palms flat on the bed she stared down at the blanket across her legs, wiggling both sets of toes experimentally while she debated on how far she was willing to move to leave this soft prison. She knew it would hurt, but until she tried she would never know how much, or how far she could get on her own before her limits were reached. She couldn't very well depend on Chichiri to haul her ass to and from the chamber pot permanently could she?
Mind made up, she tossed aside the blanket. Placing a hand under her right knee, she slowly maneuvered her limb until she sat on the edge of the bed, both feet just barely skimming the floor by the tips of her toes. She was tempted to try and stand on both legs, but the risk of pain stalled her resolve. Either way, on one leg or two, she'd have to stand up on her own eventually. With that grim certainty in mind, she placed her left foot flat on the floor and pushed off from the bed.
And promptly fell back down on it.
"Oof," she huffed out loud. It seemed her sense of balance wasn't exactly what it used to be.
Placing all her weight on her left foot, she pushed off slowly this time from the bed while keeping one hand on the mattress. When she was finally upright a smirk of victory spread over her face. Taking advantage of being vertical and relatively alone, she tugged down the long shirt and gave herself a once over. She was relatively clean, though her mouth was beginning to feel scummy, and her hair could definitely use a good washing. There were some itchy scabs on her palms, and running her tongue across her lips she could feel the remnants of another cut just over her upper lip. Her ribs and left hip still felt vaguely sore, probably having been acerbated by her movements, but for the most part everything seemed superficial. She couldn't hope to get much more critical without the use of a full-length mirror.
Marissa's balance began to waver again so she sat back down on the edge of the bed, pleased that she had taken some initiative in her recovery. She contented herself with inspecting her growing toenails while listening for any sounds coming from the rest of the house. Oddly enough, she hadn't noticed any upon waking, and even now there appeared to be only silence.
He wouldn't leave me here alone, would he? she thought worriedly. After a moment she brushed the thought aside, refusing to grow needlessly concerned.
Over the next fifteen minutes she stretched and twisted all of her limbs and lethargic joints while sitting on the bed. At the end of the quarter hour the sound of another door opening met her ears. There was a clatter of several objects being set down, then the sound of feet approaching her door. Marissa stiffened on the bed, suddenly filled with apprehension. What if it hadn't been her guardian who had just stepped into the house? The footsteps approached, then stopped abruptly when several loud knocks reverberated through the tiny structure. The feet moved away from her direction and the front door squeaked open once more. A gruff, deep voice met her ears, followed immediately after by the familiar tone of Chichiri's voice in reply.
Marissa's shoulders slumped in relief. While inwardly she called herself a few names for an overreactive moron, her ears strained to hear what was going on in the other room. The two men engaged in conversation for several minutes, a few broken words in Japanese filtering through her closed door, but the topic of discussion was completely lost on her. She found her resolve to learn the language springing back to life the longer she struggled to make sense of what she was hearing. It was quickly becoming apparent just how helpless she'd be in this world if she came to be on her own, if Chichiri chose to leave her while continuing on his own quest. She tried to ignore the painful sinking feeling in her stomach at that thought.
The conversation appeared to come to an end and the front door shut with a loud click. When the feet approached her door once more, Marissa hastily grabbed her pillow and placed it over her lap. She couldn't explain why, but the thought of being seen half-dressed by Chichiri in broad daylight had suddenly made her feel like a shy preteen all over again.
"Mari-chan?" came the inquiring voice behind the door.
"Yes, come in."
Chichiri's smiling face emerged as the door swung open. "Good morning no da!"
"Good morning," she replied, not quite able to bring herself to match his jovial demeanor.
It appeared to matter little however, as Chichiri made his way over to the bed. "How do you feel no da? Any fever or chills? Does your leg hurt? Are you hungry no da?" He stopped at her side and stared down critically past her upturned head to the pillow on her lap and then to her bare toes on the floor.
"Uh…" she stammered for a moment, not quite sure whether he was joking or not. "Fine, no, a little, and yes?"
"Good no da," he replied, bending closer to inspect her face. With gentle fingers he grasped her chin and pulled aside the messy burgundy bangs over her forehead. He nodded to himself, observing the mending cut over her eyebrow, and moved to lift both of her wrists off of the pillow on her lap. Turning them palms up, he made a sound in the back of his throat at the sight of the scabs across the pads of her palms and wrists, and lifted up the sleeves on each of her arms to her elbows before dropping both hands. When he moved to remove the pillow from her lap, Marissa smacked a hand down over the middle.
"Ano..." Chichiri's hand hovered frozen in place over the pillow. He lifted his head to look upon the blushing girl in confusion.
"Sorry," she murmured, and slowly withdrew her hand and the obstacle.
He was thorough and quick to check the bands and knot to make sure they were still in place around her thigh, then rose and crossed his arms over his chest. "You shouldn't try walking yet no da. Stay here and I'll bring you breakfast."
Marissa nodded reluctantly as he turned and left the room. He left the door open on his way out this time, which prompted her to lean forward on the bed in an attempt to gain a view of the next room. From her vantage point one window was visible, as well as the corner of a wood table and a bench beneath it. A second door was also in her line of sight, or rather its inner edge and two large metal hinges. The floor in the next room was wood as well, and the window's two small shutters were pulled open to let in the brightening morning light. From the room also came the sounds of Chichiri moving about, as well as the familiar clang of metal upon metal.
Marissa thoughtfully licked her lips. "Chichiri?"
"Yes no da?" His voice floated back from somewhere around the corner.
"Who was that at the door?"
"The farmer who owns the house no da."
Marissa scooted back on the bed and picked at the edge of the bandage on her leg. "Why are we in his house?"
A dull thud, like that of a large knife hitting wood met her ears. The sounds of chopping continued for nearly a minute before they stopped, and within a moment Chichiri once more appeared in her doorway. His kesa had been removed and both sleeves were pushed back, revealing pale toned forearms and finger tips coated with a bloody red sheen.
"This house sits on Chunseng-san's land no da. I suppose a caretaker usually lives in the house, for people who stop by on the roadway. He offered me this place to stay when I needed it no da."
Marissa watched the seishi flick a few drops of blood off the ends of his fingers and held back the urge to blanch. "Was that before or after..." She made a vague gesture with a sweep of her hand.
"Before no da," he answered, and swept back into the other room to finish the breakfast preparations.
Marissa obliged herself to wait patiently while the cooking smells of fish and rice filled the tiny structure. Sometime during that period Tama-chan awoke from his slumber and gave her elbow a morning nudge before sauntering into the next room. She enviously watched his brown-tipped tail disappear around the corner.
She was beginning to wonder how badly she'd get in trouble for standing up and hopping to the doorway, when Chichiri suddenly appeared at the threshold and crossed into the room. He flashed a smile before dragging the small bedside table over to rest in front of her knees. She clasped her hands over her lap while she watched him leave the room and return again with two steaming bowls and a pair of chopsticks. With perfunctory flourish he placed her meal on the table and dropped a short bow in response to the smile that was having a hard time staying repressed on her face.
She picked up the long wooden chopsticks and studied the meal in front of her. There was a bowl filled with white rice small, garnished by a thin filet of fish, another small bowl of chicken broth, and a cup of water to complete the repast.
Chichiri interrupted her critique with a clearing of his throat. "Did you need help with the hashi no da?" He held out his hand to take the two long sticks she held loose in her hand.
Marissa smiled and shook her head. She shifted her grip on the chopsticks, notching them between her fingers and thumb. "We call then 'chop sticks'," she corrected, and demonstrated by picking up a few grains of the white rice.
The seishi looked pleased and straightened up. "Enjoy your meal no da."
Marissa called out as he was turning to leave the room. "Why don't you eat breakfast with me?" She quickly moved to clear away a space on the opposite side of the table.
He watched her silently for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I will then no da." Chichiri disappeared from the room and returned with his own bowl of rice and fish and an empty cup soon after. Drawing up the room's single chair, he placed himself opposite Marissa at the table and poured his cup full with water.
The tiny table offered minimal space for both their meals and the water pitcher, and beneath the table Marissa found herself tucking her ankles tightly against the bed to prevent their feet from knocking together. It was a miracle in itself that their knees did not collide. She made quick work of her soup and the rice around her filet of fish, making only hesitant approaches towards the meat before opting for a few grains of rice or a drink of water instead. Fish and seafood had always been a favorite of hers, but this meager sample looked nothing she had ever eaten before. The flesh was a stomach-turning yellow and the skin still left on the underside was darkened nearly to the point of being burned. Miniscule bones crisscrossed through the flesh and promised much nitpicking on her behalf to remove them.
Chichiri on the other hand seemed to have no such concerns over his meal. The few times she had glanced across the table showed his filet of fish diminishing in size and his quantity of rice shrinking with each pass of the chopsticks. Her stomach roiled at the thought of wondering how he could possibly consume such a, well, barbaric substance.
"Are you not hungry no da?" Chichiri asked, piercing through her thoughts. She glanced down and saw she had created an island of rice beneath her cut of fish and eaten completely around it inside the bowl.
Marissa pushed the bowl away and folded her hands. "I'm full," she lied, and wondered if it was possible to live off rice and chicken broth for many weeks. It seemed she was going to find out.
To her surprise Chichiri swept her bowl across the table and replaced his empty dish with it. Her mouth hung partly open as she watched him finish her rice and fish with only a few large bites.
"How can you eat that?" she blurted out.
Chichiri stacked his empty bowls together and raised a drawn eyebrow at her curiously. "Do you not like fish no da?"
"I like fish fine," she protested, feeling a bit silly. "But that... thing was not like any fish I've ever had. It was the wrong color and looked burned and..." She cut herself off before she could further insult his cooking. "The rice was good," she mumbled.
Chichiri indulged her with a familiar smile. "I'm sorry no da. My way of cooking is... well, I have been alone for a long time, and Tama-chan does not care how he gets his fish, just as long as he gets it no da. Maybe it would be better if I finally learned how to cook a fish properly, since I have a lady to care for now no da." His tone was lightly teasing, and Marissa felt relieved that her comments hadn't bruised his ego.
"I suppose I could teach you," she ventured, her eyes going introspective. "I can't promise it'll be much better though. I'm used to cooking with electric ovens and microwaves."
At his befuddled expression she blushed and picked self consciously at the sleeve of her shirt. "They're just some of things people use in my world to cook with. It makes things faster, and easier, I guess. It can be pretty messy sometimes, especially when something breaks, or you burn something. My mom hates getting food stuck on her stove." Shit, I'm babbling.
Chichiri observed her growing discomfort and felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. He wondered if he would be reacting any more awkwardly if their roles were revered. More likely than not, for just from her few words her world sounded as alien to him as his must seem to her. He felt it necessary to do what he could to put her mind at ease. "I would appreciate the help no da," he said kindly.
A small smile flittered across her face. "It'll give me something to do," she admitted wryly before taking a sip of her water.
"It's not my intention to keep you locked up in here no da."
Marissa set down her cup with a soft tap on the table. "I know. It's only been two days, but I keep looking out the window…" She straightened up on the bed and in one of the few times since her arrival into consciousness, looked at him directly. "I keep seeing the sky outside the window and I want to know what's out there. This is a whole new world to me and instead of out there exploring it I'm stuck here in this room and in this bed. I know I should be scared, because hell something already hurt me out there, even though I can't remember any of it, I feel like I'm wasting my time being too injured to even walk out the front door. I don't want you to think I'm not grateful, because I think you saved my life and I'm in debt to you for that, but I know I'm going to go stir crazy if I can't at least smell something other than fish and lemons."
To her relief, the seishi nodded in understanding, and a brief smile touched upon his mask. "You'll be able to go outside soon, I promise no da."
A pensive look stole over her features. "What's out there anyway?"
"What do you mean no da?" he asked, and leaned forward on the table to begin collecting their dishes.
"Like… well what's out there? Are there any towns around? You said a farmer owned this house, does he live nearby? Are we near any big cities? How far away is the capital?"
Chichiri lifted an eyebrow at her last question. "Why would you want to know where the capital is no da?"
Marissa bit her bottom lip, darkening the plump flesh. "No reason really. I read about it when I… when I read about your world. It sounds like an interesting place to see." Open mouth, insert foot Mari.
"Well," he began, the empty dishes now gathered into a small pile before him. "We're in the Guangxi Province. About a two hour walk from here is a small trading town to the south named Shoyu no da. A lot of the surrounding area is farmland, forests, and a few rivers and lakes no da. Guangxi is in the northern part of Konan and borders with Kotou on its eastern side, and I think about a week's ride from Eiyou no da."
"So we're in the middle of no where," Marissa concluded woefully.
"Is there somewhere you need to be no da?" he inquired politely, but the evident curiosity was there.
She shook her head and then gave him a sad smirk. "Unless you mean back in my own world, cause I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be here." Looking quite miserable, she set her elbow on the table and cupped her cheek in her upturned hand.
Chichiri's expression turned downcast as he stared at the table between them, trying to think of something to say that didn't sound overly hopeful, but would put some of her doubts to rest. "Perhaps you don't know the reason why you're here no da." The look she gave him clearly said she didn't believe that. Placing both elbows on the table, he continued his train of thought. "I heard after I joined the Suzaku no Miko that she had briefly doubted her position as the Miko upon first hearing about it no da. She was quickly convinced by the Emperor to see the truth of it, but what matters is that she did not know immediately what her role was to be in this world. Perhaps it is the same for you, and in time you will discover why you have been brought here no da."
Marissa still looked unconvinced, but she also appeared to be thoughtfully turning the idea over in her head, her dark brown eyes like windows into her conflicting emotions. "Maybe," she conceded with a soft sigh. "I was wondering, could you help me out with something?"
"What's that no da?"
She looked uncomfortable as whatever request she was going to make of him fought its way to the surface. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but remember when I told you about how I've read the story of everything that's happened so far? How all of the seishi came together, about the final battle in their world, all the fighting and the gods and the Miko's wishes?" She made an encompassing gesture with her hand and Chichiri nodded in understanding.
"Well, that's not all I know. In my world, the story doesn't end there. It picks up again two years after Miaka and Yui return to their world, and a bunch of shit happens that I really can't tell you about, but trust me it does. And the truth is, I'm not in that story, no one from my world is. So obviously there's been some mistake, or I won't be here in a year, and I really don't want to sit around waiting to see if tomorrow or in a year I'm going to somehow get back to my world or end up dead. So I need your help."
Chichiri found he had to swallow several times before trusting himself to speak. "You know the future no da?"
Marissa lowered her hand to the table top and clenched it into a fist, her eyes fixed on the pale fingers. "Yes. And up until a few days ago I was really happy knowing what I know. You were all just a damn cartoon and I didn't have to worry about being stuck in another world or how many steps I could take before falling down or about learning a whole other language. I wish whatever did it had picked someone else, I don't want to be here, no matter how incredible or amazing it might seem." In her frustration she pounded her fist against the table.
When Chichiri didn't speak into the silence that lingered after her emotional outburst, she drew in a shaky breath and spread her palm flat on the table. "We could make it like a trade. I'll teach you how to cook, you teach me how to live in ancient China." Lifting her eyes to his face, she saw him staring upon her with an intense look of pity that made her cringe inside.
"I will do that Mari-chan, if you answer one question no da."
"Sure," she agreed without hesitation.
"Why no da?" At her look of confusion he attempted to explain. "Why do you want to know how to live here no da? You won't be here forever no da."
"How do you know that?" she countered. "Just because I'm not in the story in a year doesn't mean that I'm not here. I could be living somewhere else by then, or I could be dead, or I could be back in my world. I don't know anything for sure, and neither do you. Don't you think it'd be better if I learned how to live here, learned the language, the customs, how to dress, how to earn money, just in case?"
"That is true no da," Chichiri agreed slowly, but there was a lingering tone of doubt in his voice.
"Will you help me, please? I promise I won't stay in your hair too long, maybe I could get a job in the town, or we could talk to the farmer who owns the house. It would just be a few weeks, you could teach me the language while my leg gets better. I'm a pretty fast learner, what do you say?"
Chichiri watched Marissa express her ideas for her future survival in China and found himself admiring her foresight when it came to these issues. Everything she'd said had validity. She was a stranger in the world and to survive she would have to learn the language and the customs and how to get a job. But something was niggling at the back of his mind. Her words made sense, but there was something about the logic that bothered him in the deepest regions of his stomach. She was clearly anxious and desperate to receive guidance, for he too knew the world held many dangers for a young woman who did not know enough to protect herself. There was more evil in the world than just monsters in the forest.
"Mari-chan." He paused, noticing how her expression faltered at his serious tone. "I would be happy to teach you, for as long as it takes no da. But I think you are forgetting that people are not sent to our world by the gods for no reason no da. You may not believe so, but I feel that there must be a reason you are here. One person may know why, and I think we should go see her no da."
Marissa went wide-eyed and leaned away from the table. "You're not talking about Taiitsu-kun, are you?"
Chichiri arched an eyebrow and nodded, his blue bangs bobbing. "She is very wise in matters not of our world no da. She might be able to help you return home, or tell you why you are here no da."
"I suppose," she agreed, though her tone was doubtful. "Do I really have to go see her?"
The seishi rose from his chair and gathered up the empty dishes. "I think that would be wisest no da. If you feel well enough, we can visit her today no da."
Marissa paled and scooted back further on the bed. "Can we… could we go tomorrow? I - I don't feel well enough today."
Chichiri was not oblivious to her sudden nervousness at seeing the deity, but he chose to keep his concerns over her behavior to himself. If she had something to hide, Taiitsu-kun would be the one able to detect it, and the most likely one to pull the secret out of her. It made him uneasy to think that Marissa had something to hide, that her reasons for being in their world were less than noble. Truth be told he believed in her emotions of uncertainty and fright, she was not a woman who could lie easily with eyes as expressive as she had. Her request to become a part of their world seemed reasonable enough and one he would have gladly obliged to aid with, had he not also felt instinctually that to do so would be setting foot down the wrong path. She had to have a purpose for being here, regardless of her arguments to the contrary.
"Yes, Mari-chan. We will go see her tomorrow no da."
He watched her nod in thanks before leaving the room with the dirty bowls held between his arms. There was the sound of the table being dragged back across the floor to its original position next to the bed, then a low sigh that seemed to echo in the ensuing silence coming out of the room. Setting the bowls and cups on the wide table in the main room, Chichiri looked towards the open window and the roadway and trees which lay beyond. Perhaps it would be helpful, just for a little while, to let her go outside and see the sun. He did not attempt to think too long on the doubt that had crept inside him, or the way it pained him to consider that Marissa was something more dangerous than what she seemed.
A/N: This chapter was brought to you from the depths of Hell, where I labored for eternity under threats of pikement by my Beta. Chapter 19, coming soon to a store near you!