Chapter 6 - Rainbow Mountain
An unexpected prompting comes from Heaven -
Mount T'ai gives its riches completely unexpectedly -
However, it's good for you to know what could happen to you;
The wise one has ways and means to help you travel on.
She was mortified. No, more than that, she wanted to melt with shame into the bath water and stop thinking entirely. If only she could take back the last half hour, do something to change what had happened, anything to prevent the way her body had reacted to Chichiri being so near her. She hadn't thought something like that could happen, to feel longing so strongly and be so scared at the same time. Nothing in her wildest dreams could have prepared her for the intense heat and shock that came from such simple skin-to-skin contact. He had only been trying to help her and she had nearly jumped out of her skin when his hands touched her leg. He must think the worst of her now for freaking out, because he had touched her in one of the most nonromantic ways possible. Her body had acted like it had never tasted desire before, had never been that near to a man, had never wanted a man that way before. It was deeply embarrassing to remember how much she'd wished he would touch her more. What kind of a pathetic wanton woman was she?
He had looked so confused and surprised too. In her mind she could hear him asking, "What's wrong no da?" with those innocent eyes of his. Her knee had probably come within an inch of slamming into his face from the way it had jerked out of his touch, it was no wonder he had stood up so fast. It seemed that was how she repaid someone for their kindness, kicked them in the face while fighting the urge to reach a little closer and run her fingers through their hair. Nothing in her life had felt so powerful and yet so shamefully wrong at the same time. He was just a character in a book for chrissakes, an innocent image who needed more time to himself and less spent with an infatuated girl that turned into mush every time he stood within two feet of her.
Marissa wrapped her arms around her shins and rocked in the water, ignoring the pain in her thigh and ribcage from the motion and the goose bumps that rose on her flesh where the water was evaporating. She had to face him sooner or later and when she did she would have to pretend that none of it had ever happened. Moreover, she had to make sure it never happened again. It was pointless and wrong of her to feel that way about a fictional person.
Never again, she told herself, and tried her best to believe that it was the truth.
= = = = = = =
Much later that day, while Marissa stood on one leg in front of the bed unbuttoning her shorts, she realized that for the first time in awhile she was going to fall asleep happy.
To her unexpected, and welcome surprise, the rest of the afternoon had passed peacefully and uneventfully. They had enjoyed a quiet dinner with the fish Chichiri had caught and then sat in silence while she'd sipped tea and he had meditated on the floor. But it was the tranquility of the time spent on the grassy river bank that had helped to sweep away all the discomfort she'd felt earlier in the morning, confused feelings and embarrassing bodily reactions alike. Given the chance to breathe in fresh air and feel the warm sun on her face had done wonders for her frame of mind and outlook on her situation. She almost regretted the dour mood she had been stuck in during the last few days, though at the time it couldn't have been helped. She was still trapped here without a clear way to get home, but for the first time in awhile she felt alive and free of the worries that had plagued her waking thoughts for as long as she could remember. She would never have guessed that sitting on the grass with her bare feet digging into the dirt would help her forgot about the rest of the world so easily. She had been given the chance to look inside herself without interruption or the rest of the world banging on her ears; and to her surprise, she had been okay with what she saw there.
Sliding gingerly under the blanket, she wondered seriously for the first time what her fate might be if she was stuck permanently in this world. With a feeling of contentment she found she didn't care nearly as much as she had before, not when being here meant being able to find that kind of solace just from walking a few steps beyond the front door of a house. Life really was simpler here, and quiet, and so many things she hadn't realized she'd been missing until she'd found them on the banks of the river. With a smile on her lips, she fell asleep with the smell of sun kissed grass under her nose and the sound of water bubbling in her ears, and the quiet strength of a man just out of sight beyond her left shoulder.
= = = = = = =
"Chiriko!!"
Marissa was jolted awake by the anguished cry. She blinked into the darkness then sat up in bed, her heart pounding like a caged bird against her chest.
"Chichiri?" she whispered fearfully.
No reply met her ears, save for someone's heavy breathing that was not her own. It gradually slowed over the course of several drawn out seconds, until out of the quiet came a raspy pain-filled whisper.
"Doushite... yakusoku mamori... doushite Chiriko!?" Chichiri's hushed voice ended on a broken sob.
Marissa flung back the blanket and rolled herself to the edge of the bed, peering earnestly into the darkness where Chichiri should be laying. The urge to reach out to him was strong, to wake him and reassure herself that he was alright, but her hands stayed beneath her and gripped the mattress as if they were afraid she would tumble off if she let go. It was so dark and he was so far away from her and he sounded so scared. What could she do?
"Chichiri," she pleaded in a whisper. "Wake up please, you're having a bad dream."
But her words changed nothing as he continued to pant and thrash on the mat, a low moan of distress sending chills down her spine.
"Daijoubu, Chichiri. Yume ga. Mezameru, onegai," she begged him, her voice cracking with worry.
Over a long minute his movements gradually stopped, and his next words were far steadier and hushed in bewilderment, as if he were finally awakening from the nightmare that had gripped him. "Yume... ka?"
"Hai," she answered in a rush, relief flooding through her. After a moment, and to her surprise, she heard a rustle of blankets being moved and felt the air shift as Chichiri rose out of bed. His feet padded lightly on the floor until the inner door was opened, where his dark silhouette could be made out disappearing into the next room. She settled back on the bed, drawing the blanket up to her chin worriedly. Had he really been having a nightmare about Chiriko? Could he have been seeing his death all over again? It made the hairs on her arms and face prickle as the haunted words he'd whispered echoed through her mind, like a cube of ice being slid from her neck to her toes.
A dark shape reappeared in the open doorway and took a step across the floor before stopping. "Mari-chan?" Chichiri inquired, his voice muted.
"Yes?" she answered from the bed, matching his subdued tone.
"I'm sorry I woke you no da." The door creaked as he shut it behind himself. He walked to his bedroll and lay back down upon it with a soft grunt, the blanket rustling as he repositioned it in the darkness.
"It's okay," Marissa said once his movements had settled. She heard him turn over.
The silence stretched on but she was sure he hadn't fallen asleep yet. She was burning inside to know what he had been dreaming about, if her suspicion was right.
"What were you dreaming about?" she asked softly.
When Chichiri remained silent she wondered regretfully if she had overstepped her bounds, until a low sigh came from his side of the room.
"I don't remember no da."
"You called out Chiriko's name."
He didn't reply at first, simply lay there breathing in the dark. "I'm sorry no da."
Marissa swallowed, her cheeks burning. "Do you dream about him a lot?"
She heard the blankets rustle as he turned over again. When he spoke she could tell that he was facing towards her. "Sometimes no da," he admitted somberly, as if it pained him to even utter the words.
"It was really sad."
"He was very young no da," he amended.
"He was also very brave," she contradicted softly.
Chichiri remained silent after those words.
Marissa squeezed her eyes shut, listening to her heartbeat pound on the inside of her ears. "Do you dream about the others too?"
His reply came after a long moment and was barely above a whisper. "Yes."
Marissa bit her lip. "I'm sorry."
"I am too no da." There was a bitter undertone to those words that pulled at her heart.
"They died happy you know," she said, not quite sure where her mouth was going before her sleepy thoughts could catch up. "They protected their Miko and allowed the rest of you to keep going. They were all very brave."
Chichiri turned over again with a grunt, his voice almost sulky. "Does that make me not brave no da?"
"Chichiri," she pleaded softly, her heart aching at the raw loathing she heard in that question. "You are the bravest man I have ever known."
There seemed to be little else to say after that and with a hushed sigh Marissa turned her head into the pillow. Something deep had been shared this night, yet she could not bring herself to be happy about it. His grief-stricken words lingered in her mind like a tattoo branded to her memories. Those moments on a television screen paled in comparison to the grief and misery that came from this man. There was nothing she could hope to say or do against such strong memories, which made the sting of the images they invoked all the more poignant. Shame clouded her thoughts as she realized just how much she had underestimated those moments in Chichiri's life.
Succumbing once more to the call of sleep, she could have sworn she heard a murmur of thought different than her own inner voice. It glided through her mind, clearing her thoughts in its wake and delivering her into darkness. Arigatou...
= = = = = = =
The first time Marissa awoke in the morning she was too nervous to go back to sleep. Today was the day. Today she would be going to see Taiitsukun. That thought and the anxiety it caused in her belly made her sit up slowly in the bed, feeling not so different from a trapped animal awaiting the slaughter. She blinked against a wide yawn and started picking away the dried bits at the edges of her eyes, her body curling in on itself to ward away the cool air as much as shield herself from the reality of the new day. Head bowed she flicked away the grains of grit under her nails, watching them fly over the edge of the bed. When her eyes were clear she yawned again and rubbed her face vigorously, debating briefly whether she could hope to return to sleep and catch another hour just to prolong the inevitable. It would be impossible, she decided after a moment. She was too awake now.
Turning to her right she reached for the pile of clothes on the chair beside her bed and stopped mid-reach. A masculine snore rumbled from the sleeping figure just a few feet away on the floor. The sleeping, partially clothed, male, figure.
Marissa swallowed and snatched her shorts and underwear off the chair, as if afraid of being caught with her arm sticking out in mid air like that. Chichiri had always managed to be awake before her in the past; she could have sworn he was able to survive off no more than five hours of sleep every night. She'd almost begun to take for granted that every night she would go to bed with him the next room and wake up with him already dressed and gone. But not this morning. Was it really all that early? Or had the nightmare from last night exhausted him into sleeping longer?
She remembered awakening in the middle of the night now, hearing his voice cry out for his dead fellow warrior. A mere child forced to die so gruesomely. How badly did the other deaths haunt his thoughts and dreams? He had held Mitsukake as the healer died in his arms, had been witness to Nuriko's last breathing moments, and outlived all but one of the other seishi. Never before had the reality of those events felt so acute to Marissa. How could they not after hearing the way he'd cried out in his sleep?
Clutching her clothes against her chest she scooted back on the bed, avoiding the urge to gaze over to the man who slept without a shirt and a blanket pulled up only to his sternum. Already it felt as though the expanse of pale skin she'd seen was burned into her retinas. She'd never noticed before how light his hair could look in the low light, shaved so close to his head it very nearly bordered on being blonde. The warrior was fit like a biker, lean shoulders and biceps that were easily defined by the angles of one arm behind his head and the other laying across his stomach. She was absolutely sure that the sculptors of the ancient Greeks would've loved to have gotten their hands on this man's toned body to stand as a model.
Marissa felt a bit foolishly like she was in gym class all over again as she slithered into her shorts under the bedcovers. He could wake up at any moment and see her changing. The thought excited and terrified at the same time and made her quicken her pace. Putting her arms back through the sleeves of her borrowed shirt she tugged the fabric down over her breasts, thankful for having worn such a comfortable bra on the day of her journey to this world. She couldn't imagine how women in this period survived without such a helpful piece of clothing.
With her shorts buttoned and zipped she drew back the blanket and slid to the edge of the bed, her gaze getting an eyeful of the slumbering seishi. He hadn't moved and his breathing was still deep and shallow, it would be cruel to wake him when he seemed to be enjoying his rest so peacefully. Besides, Chichiri waking up meant they would be that much closer to leaving for Mt. Taikyoku. Feet touching the floor, Marissa bent over and retrieved her discarded sneakers from under the bed.
Somehow she managed to hop quietly across the floor without tripping over Chichiri's bedroll and made it to the wall. Inch by inch she pried open the notoriously squeaky door until there was a space just large enough for her to slip through, a sigh of relief slipping past her lips for the lack of noise from the hinges. Once in the next room she hopped to the bench and set down her sneakers. The table was completely devoid of all traces of their dinner the night before and the fireplace was cold and swept clean of ash. She had to give Chichiri credit, he was a very adept housekeeper.
She spied the empty bucket near the door, frowned, and then sat down to put on her shoes. When they were laced tight she slid to the end of the bench and bounced the last few steps to the front door, grabbing the bucket beside it as she pulled it slowly open. Outside the air was scented with the chilly freshness of early morning and a thin fog bank shrouded the sky overhead. Around her the ground sparkled with dew, lit by the weak rays of yellow light that were diffused across the gray sky, making it almost impossible to tell the direction of the rising sun. With her right hand on the wall of the house she hopped her way to the full barrel Chichiri had filled with water from the river the day before. She pulled back the lid and stopped to stare down at the hazy reflection that looked back up at her. It was hard to see much of anything in the low light except the frazzled appearance of her hair and two points of light where her eyes were. With a sigh she dipped the bucket into the water and drew it out when it was half full.
Back inside the house she spent several minutes fetching a shallow basin, clean bandages, her bamboo tooth brush, and a bundle of soaproot from the house's supplies. Her knee and left foot were starting to ache fiercely and it was a welcomed relief when she sat down at the table, the bucket of water beside her on the bench. Her hand absently rubbed the sore joint as she picked up the bamboo brush and dipped the tip into the bucket of cold water, taking a minute to scrub away the plaque that had accumulated on her teeth overnight. When she finished she combed her fingers through the shoulder-length tangles of her hair and twisted it up into a tight bun, poking the rod of bamboo through it to hold it in place. About half of the water in the bucket went into the basin, which was then splashed liberally on her face and over her forearms. She crushed a few short strands of the fibrous root into the water and worked up a lather between her hands, the unusual smell of the soaproot making her hesitate before applying it across the length of her arms to her elbows. She rinsed the soap off in the basin and then crushed a few more strands in the water, working it briskly between her palms before placing the concoction on her cheeks and giving her face a generous scrubbing.
She was rinsing away the sticky soap when a noise in the next room caught her attention, her hands cupped and poised above the water. When no other sound was forthcoming she plunged her hands into the basin, assuming that it had only been Chichiri moving about in his sleep. She finished rinsing and was using the hem of her long shirt to dry her face when the recognizable sound of the inner door opening creaked into the room. Blinking through the water on her eyelashes she lifted her head to see Chichiri standing dressed in the doorway, his shirt a bit rumpled on his frame and half of his bangs sticking to the right side of his mask-free face. He yawned and seemed to notice Marissa sitting on the opposite side of the table.
"Ohayou no da," he muttered, stepping into the room.
"Good morning," she replied, her answer muffled by the shirt over half of her face.
He walked to the stone fireplace and tossed in a few logs from the pile beside it, one of them barely missing the empty kettle held inside the hearth. Without so much as a blink of his eye the logs combusted into flames, making Marissa jump at their sudden appearance.
She wiped the last drops of water from her face, listening to Chichiri move about the room mechanically. She'd never seen him in such a tired daze before. Perhaps he always woke up like this and she'd simply never been privy to it before. That or the after affects of his nightmare had left him more exhausted than she'd previously thought. She couldn't bring herself to ask such a personal question out loud.
Chichiri was standing inside of the small closet when items began popping out of thin air onto the table, startling Marissa back a few inches on her seat. Two bamboo containers, a bag of rice, a paper wrapped package, and dried vegetables began piling in the center of the wood surface as if they'd been casually dropped there. Conscious of the basin still in front of her chest, she picked it up just as a flat wooden spoon clattered to the table where it had been resting.
Marissa pursed her lips and set down the basin on her left side. She turned to straddle the bench and used both hands to lift her wounded leg so it lay lengthwise in the remaining space next to the soapy water. She had just finished unwrapping the bands on her leg when Chichiri came out of the closet and walked silently around her to the other side of the table. She was too preoccupied with cleaning the stitches to take notice of what the monk was preparing for their morning breakfast, but rice and vegetables seemed to be a safe guess. She rinsed away the last remnants of whatever dried herbs had been plastered to her skin and dried the area with a clean area of her shirt. Picking up the roll of gauze she tore off a few feet with the edge of her teeth and began rewrapping her leg.
The morning continued in that silent manner even when Chichiri placed a bowl of rice covered with spiced vegetables and pieces of salted pork in front of Marissa. She could only pick at the food with a waning appetite, her thoughts once more on their impending trip to see the overlord of the world. Chichiri, gratefully, did not prod her to eat more and completed his meal in a quiet, timely fashion. When he finished she took it as her cue to push away her bowl to join his as they were gathered to be washed. Recalling at the last moment that her toothbrush was still in her hair, she kept one of the hashi and rinsed it off before replacing the bamboo rod with her chopstick. She was really going to have to look into another way to keep her hair up.
Chichiri puttered around her for another quarter hour, cleaning their dishes and tossing out the used water. He disappeared into the bedroom afterwards, leaving Marissa in the main room to sink deeper into her gloomy thoughts. At this point she wasn't too sure what she was more worried about, that Taiitsukun would tell her she had some sort of grand purpose for being in the world, or would tell her it was all a mistake and send her back to her old life. Neither option sounded very enjoyable. She didn't want to remain here as a priestess or someone with any kind of divine purpose. That would be placing people's lives in her hands, possibly even Chichiri's life, and fictional characters or not, she didn't want to see anyone wind up dead. Even if something like that were the case, she had no way of knowing what her presence here was doing to the timeline of the series. Was the future already predetermined and she would be off doing her mission or already done with it when Miaka and Taka returned to the world? Or by appearing here had she already thrown things off so badly that nothing was going to take place the way she'd seen it? If Chichiri died because of her, how would he help the seishi and defeat Hikou?
Or there was the other possibility. Taiitsukun could take one look at her and start laughing, then apologize for picking such an insignificant girl and promptly send her back to her world. Wouldn't that be the joke of her life? She had been walking aimlessly for so long that she wasn't sure where she belonged anymore. Nothing about her life had felt right for many years; it was as though she was being led through the motions by her family and society without any conscious thought of her destination or purpose for being alive. She went to school because she was told she had to. She made good grades because it made her parents happy and she couldn't bear seeing anyone angry with her. She had a few friends because she was a good listener and never seemed to have any weighty problems to pour on them in return. They sometimes teased her about having a picture of a cartoon character on her wall, but mostly they left her alone to her schoolwork and her inner thoughts. Marissa the smart one, the dependable one, if you had a question or any problems, come to her because she always has a good answer.
Was someone or something out there laughing at her right now for her twisted fate? She had only cared for one person in her life the way a woman comes to care for a man. She had struggled to understand his personality, spending hours, days of her life trying to discover what made him tick. His smile never failed to make her heart flutter and his humor had always made her laugh. He was strong, silent, dependable, and the kind of man who would let her pour out her heart for hours and never get up to leave. He was handsome and tender, with an eye that could peel her apart with a look, and so much sorrow and confusion in his past that she wished there were more words in the English language to say how badly she wanted to help him come to terms with that. Seeing him battle against his best friend had ripped her heart to shreds because of the pure cruelty in that scenario, that Fate would force him to kill Hikou all over again just to gain an understanding into the events of his past. This man touched her heart in a way that no other person had, real or fictional, and she had been okay with loving him from afar. It wasn't a love of passion or romance (because how could one love a character romantically?) but a love of understanding and acceptance.
But instead of being allowed to stay in her old life where she could safely appreciate him from afar, she'd suddenly been tossed into the book and forced to come face to face with the man of her dreams. It was horrible. She had never in all her dreams wanted to meet him face to face like this. What was she expected to say? 'Hi, I love you and I understand you. Thanks for taking care of me.' How laughable was that. What could a person like Chichiri ever want in a person like her? Knowing a man's past and his deepest secrets did not automatically grant you access to their heart. She knew that fact and knew that having Chichiri in the flesh was more like torture than bliss. Every moment spent with him only destroyed another one of her fantasies, buried the secret dreams of being loved and cared for in return. Add to the situation that his physical body was extremely attractive and had already invoked an arousal in her she hadn't expected or wanted to become aware of had only made the hurt worse. Loving his soul was one thing, lusting after his touch and his body was another matter entirely, because rolled together it all equaled the only person she wanted most in life but could never have.
"It's time to go no da."
Marissa jerked her head up, unaware that Chichiri had come back into the room. The urge to giggle welled up inside of her at the image he presented. His bangs were combed and fluffy, mask upon his face, prayer beads straight on his chest, shirt pinned neatly against his shoulder, kesa folded over his right arm, and shakujo held in his left hand. I wonder if you know how beautiful you are? she wondered bemusedly and a bit sadly.
With great reluctance she stood up and hopped her way around the table. Chichiri met her at the door and held it open for her like the gentleman he was, moving through the opening behind her as she stood swaying on the stone path in front of the house. Taking a polite hold of her arm he led her to the narrow dirt road in front of the house. There he shook out his kesa and spread it on the ground, bubble pattern facing up. He moved to stand in the middle and held out his free hand to Marissa, which she took gingerly, feeling a current of electricity zip up her arm even from the brief touch.
"Is it alright if I sit down when you do it?" she asked, rubbing her arms against the cool morning air.
"I was going to recommend it no da."
Marissa nodded and lowered herself to the ground, legs straight out in front of her once she was seated. The goosebumps rising on her flesh made her regret destroying her only pair of pants. But then again, if this goes like I imagine it will, I'll be back in my world in time for dinner.
The staff struck the center of the kesa next to her right shoulder and a pool of golden light began spreading from the tip. It passed beneath her to the edges of the cloak, and only when the entire surface was covered did she feel herself begin to sink. Though she had been expecting it, the sensation was still a shock and instinct forced her to shut her eyes and cross her arms protectively over her chest. She could still see the glow behind her eyelids, as if it were being absorbed through every pore of her body, making her become weightless. It moved up her body like the cool touch of liquid slowly enveloping her legs, stomach, chest, all the way up to her neck. In the back of her mind something was itching to break free to the surface, a strong sense of deja vu that told her quite strongly she had been in this moment before. With a startled gasp she recalled the feeling of the shimmering silver light as it had sucked in her body, and a scream jumped from her throat as the light swept over her head.
= = = = = = =
"Mari-chan."
Ohh... my head. Very spinny.
"Mari-chan, open your eyes no da."
Marissa blinked a few times, her feeling of nausea slowly coming to a halt. The world around her resolved itself into a beautiful blend of colors and glints of gold, sunlight alighting on towering pillars and polished marble steps which began to rise several feet away from her. Silk tapestries hanging between the columns in a range of pastels, blues, pinks, greens, yellow, and purple, fluttered in the soft breeze like the way ripples traversed across the surface of a lake. The columns were carved entirely out of a creamy, pale jade, which supported a bright red, pagoda style roof line with gold roof tiles that ran along each of the four ridges up to the second story.
Marissa looked away from the massive structure and saw the hand being held out to her. She took it gratefully and was helped to her feet, giving her another expansive view of the grounds around Taiitsukun's temple. Lush green grass covered the plateau, dotted with trees and wildflowers in an array of unimaginable colors. Misty waterfalls cascaded off distant cliffs and poured into two valleys which ran on either side of the mountain top. Not surprisingly, to add to the magical panorama, dozens of sparkling pink spheres floated through the air both near and far away.
"It's beautiful," she breathed.
Chichiri released her hand and transferred his hold to her back just beneath her shoulder blades. His gentle nudge sent Marissa limping forward with his hand and side supporting her gait. It was an arduous journey up the marble steps that took several minutes, so much so that Marissa began to wonder resentfully why he hadn't just deposited them inside the temple. When they finally stepped inside the structure her left leg ached with strained muscle and she found herself leaning heavily against Chichiri's side. He guided her across the highly reflective marble floor until they entered a large antechamber, where tall rectangular windows scattered the sunlight into shafts of rainbows which painted the floor like an artist's palette.
When they came to the middle of the floor Chichiri stopped her and stepped away, looking towards the corners of the room which were shrouded in shadow. "Nyan nyan no da?" he called out.
Within a few seconds there was a gentle popping sound and a small girl with light blue hair and wide eyes appeared before the pair. "Chichiri-san!" she exclaimed happily. "Hisashiburi!"
"Hisashiburi Nyan nyan no da," he answered with a wide smile, placing a hand on the child's head.
"Naze koko ni imasu ka?" she asked, rocking happily on her slippered feet.
Chichiri patted her crown and replied in Japanese, "I need to see Taiitsukun no da. Can you find her for me no da?"
"Hai!" Nyan nyan crowed happily and disappeared with another pop, leaving Mari and Chichiri alone in the chamber.
"Where is she going?" Marissa asked quietly, lest her voice echo too loudly in the massive room.
"I asked her to find Taiitsukun no da."
"Oh." Standing on one leg with the other barely touching the ground was threatening to undo her balance, and without a chair in sight Marissa figured she was better off sitting on the floor than falling face down on it in another minute. Only a few seconds after her bottom reached the ground a small figure ran out from the right corner of the room, rattails in her buns flying behind her.
"She's coming, she's coming! Baba yelled at Nyan nyan and chased her away, hidoi!"
"Arigatou, Nyan nyan no da."
The magical girl spun about on the balls of her feet, unnaturally pleased with the praise as she looked up adoringly at Chichiri. Marissa watched the foreign exchange from her place on the floor, observing absently that the Nyan had yet to notice her presence. The child seemed to only have eyes for the seishi, though in truth she couldn't blame the girl for her infatuation. She suspected Chichiri preferred to remain politely oblivious to the spell he was able to cast on any woman who had a pair of eyes.
Men, she sighed inwardly.
"Ohisashiburi desu Chichiri," a dry voice said from the front of the room.
Marissa's head jerked to the side, catching her first look at the deity in the flesh. A large golden throne had appeared a few meters in front of them, lavished with decorative carvings, hanging jewels, and velvet padded armrests. On the seat of the oversized chair sat a small woman who's face bore the mark of centuries of vigilance and an untold weight on her shoulders. The bags under eyes were severe and the wrinkled lines on her forehead resembled the striations seen on limestone walls, a roadmap covering thousands of years compressed into one place. She wore a complicated robe of many colored fabrics and many layers, with trailing sleeves that hid her hands from view and draped over the sides of her throne. Her gray hair was piled up into an ornate headdress encrusted with precious stones that sparkled alluring in the rainbows of light which fell upon her. Marissa was positively awed.
Chichiri came forward a few steps until he stood before Taiitsukun's throne and bowed respectfully at the waist. "Taiitsukun-sama, hisashiburi. Genki deshita no da?"
"Maa, watashi mo totemo isogashii desu. Naze koko ni wa imasu ka?" The deity was still speaking to Chichiri but her gaze had finally slid over to acknowledge the girl sitting on the cold floor. It was brief and dismissive, however, for she immediately looked back to Chichiri and awaited his answer.
"I have brought you a girl from another world no da."
"Sou ka?" Taiitsukun folded her robed arms and looked unconvinced. Suddenly her hard stare was back on Marissa, as if seeking to pierce through the girl's heart and discover the secrets of her soul. "Well girl, are you really from another world?"
Marissa could only look back in helpless amazement as the unintelligible words poured from Taiitsukun's mouth. When she failed to respond, Taiitsukun's eyes narrowed and switched back to Chichiri. "What's wrong with her?"
"Taiitsukun-sama, she does not speak out language no da."
The deity snorted, loud and derisive. "Are you picking up refugees from other countries now Chichiri? She is not from another world, it is impossible. I will send her back and the matter will be settled."
For the first time since their arrival Chichiri began to look uncomfortable. "Demo, she says she is from a world beyond Miaka's world no da."
Taiitsukun leaned forward on her throne, the tiny jewels hanging on her headpiece swinging with the motion. "Nanja? If she does not speak our language then how do you know this?"
"I have learned her language. She has told me many things she knows about our world no da."
"Nattoku ikanaino desuga," Taiitsukun replied sternly, a frown deepening on her aged face. "What you say is impossible, the peasant girl has deceived you. Take her back to where you found her."
"Onegai shimasu Taiitsukun-sama. Please hear her story no da." Though the entreaty was spoken with the greatest respect, there was a hard expression upon his masked face. It seemed apparant that he was refusing to take no for an answer.
Taiitsukun remained silent after Chichiri's plea, her face once again turning towards the girl who was still staring on with wide eyes at the conversation taking place. Marissa swallowed heavily under that gaze, unnerved by the look of pure mistrust she saw there. Why did things seem to be going so badly? Was she really one huge mistake afterall?
"I'm really sorry," she apologized meekly, willing herself not to choke up with tears. "Tell her I'm really sorry Chichiri. I don't know what I did but I didn't mean to, honestly!"
"It's okay no da," he reassured her quietly, his left hand waving her into silence.
Watching this exchange in a foreign language, some of the animosity in Taiitsukun's face melted away to resigned curiosity. "You will speak to her for me Chichiri. She shall answer my questions or I will banish her back to whatever tiny village she came from."
"Mari-chan," Chichiri said, turning to the girl who sat alone on the cold floor. "I am going to speak for Taiitsukun. She has questions for you no da."
Marissa nodded, the hands resting atop her legs moving to clutch the hem of her shirt until her knuckles were white from the strain.
"If you are truly from another world, how did you enter our world?"
"I - I'm not really sure."
If possible, the deity's glare deepened. "Then what is your purpose for being here?"
"I don't know..."
"Were you sent by a god?"
"I don't... think so."
"What god do you serve?"
"None..."
"Why did you contact Chichiri?"
"I didn't, he rescued me."
Taiitsukun scoffed. "How convenient for him. What is your true purpose?"
"I don't have one."
"What country are you from? What is the name of your village?"
"You wouldn't- those don't matter!"
"Who are you really, girl? Did you think to lure one of the seishi with your story and gain an audience with me? Tell me the tru-"
"Chichiri!" Marissa interrupted shrilly, nearly on the verge of tears, and looked up at the seishi who had been translating the entire conversation. "Please just let me tell the story. I promise I'll go away after that, I just want answers."
"Please," she repeated, this time turning to look at Taiitsukun.
Chichiri translated her request to the deity, who miraculously remained silent afterwards. Marissa took that as her cue and plowed on, relating everything she could recall about her mysterious journey to the world, the strange silver light and falling from the sky into a pond in the middle of a forest. She willed herself not to tremble as she recounted blacking out and waking up in a house with Chichiri, her body bruised and scratched and her leg mauled. She began speaking about how their story existed in her world, revealing more detail than she ever had to Chichiri, speaking about eighteen volumes filled with hundreds of images that told the tale of two mikos, Miaka and Yui, and the battles between their seishi that had ended less than a year ago. She couldn't bring herself to speak of the anime however, nor reveal her knowledge of events pertaining to the future, as she was uncertain of how much it would ruin her story's credibility in Taiitsukun's eyes if she told that much all at once.
"I don't know why I'm here or if I'll ever get back home. Please, I need your help." Marissa could think of nothing else to say to convince the old woman, and bowed her head in supplication, awaiting her answer.
The great hall was silent for several long minutes, the only sound being Marissa's shaky breathing as she struggled to bring her scattered emotions back under control. She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve and refused to lift her gaze to Taiitsukun or Chichiri, her insides boiling with surprise and anger. She hadn't dreamed it would be like this once they met the deity. She was supposed to have all of the answers, apologize and tell Marissa that it was all a big misunderstanding and send her off with a tender pat on the cheek. Not like this, not this hostility and suspicion, as if Marissa had crawled out from underneath a rock and was wasting her time by tugging on Taiitsukun's silk skirts. Being handed a divine mission and all its perils would have been better than this harsh treatment and the absolute lack of defense on Chichiri's part. He had stood by and relayed every cutting question without even batting an eye when he knew already the answer to each and every one of them. Why hadn't he defended her? Marissa felt very cold and alone on the smooth marble floor.
Taiitsukun's voice broke the quiet, her words ending before Chichiri picked up the translation and relayed it, almost apologetically, to Marissa. "I cannot believe what you've told me. What proof do you have to offer to validate yourself?"
Marissa seethed inwardly, her fingers unconsciously tightening into fists. After all that, you still want proof? Shall I rip off my clothes and show you the bruises and the cuts given to me by my attacker? Or would you still consider that not enough? I could rattle off Einstein's theory of relativity and it wouldn't make a difference to you, you horrid old hag.
Biting her lower lip, Marissa grappled to think of something, anything, through the haze of her anger that would serve to verify her story. Was there anything she possibly knew that no one else did? Something that only Taiitsukun would know as the truth?
"I know," she said quietly, in wonderment, unable to believe her own insight. Lifting her head she hardened her jaw and stared directly into Taiitsukun's eyes. "I know the name of the false god. I know who he is."
A part of Marissa jumped with joy when she saw the way Taiitsukun flinched back, her hands moving to grip the arms of her throne. She seemed to appraise Marissa for a long moment, before she gave an imperceptible nod of her head. "Speak what you know, but be aware that I will know if you speak falsely."
"Tenkou," Marissa began softly, suddenly feeling wary the power of his name might have in such a magical place. "Many hundred years ago he was the son of an Emperor of Tou. His father gave him a book that had been given to him by a group of radical monks who believed that they had discovered the key to immortality. Tenkou exploited the magic of the book and became consumed by his greed to use its power and was executed for practicing dark magic. But his soul became entwined with the book and it was buried with him in his tomb. The four gods used their powers to seal the scroll and his spirit for eternity. Until... until the Genbu no Miko's father found the scroll, translated it into a book, and broke the seal on Tenkou's imprisonment."
Marissa shivered and turned her face away to look out of one of the tall windows, feeling the combined stares of Chichiri and Taiitsukun boring into the side of her head.
"Do you know anything else?" By Chichiri's tone in the translation she could tell that he was as curious as Taiitsukun to hear the answer to that question.
"No," she replied weakly, not sure why she was bothering to lie to a god.
"Musume, kowarete haikenai." Taiitsukun's voice had surprisingly gone gentle. The genuine concern Marissa heard in that reassuring statement managed to soothe the edges of her fraying nerves immeasurably.
"Do not be afraid," Chichiri translated somberly.
Marissa swallowed and took a deep breath. "The books that tell of your world don't end with the battle between the Mikos in their world. It picks up again two years later. I know about things that haven't happened yet."
"Forgive me for my doubt before, but you hold a dangerous amount of information if what you say is true. Are you sure you do not know why you were brought here?"
Marissa shook her head sadly, wishing more than anything that she did have the answer to such an easy question. "Can you send me back?" she asked, fearing she knew the answer already.
Taiitsukun had begun to look her ancient age by the weary turn of her mouth and the lack of authoritative sparkle in her eyes. "You are from a world I was not even aware of existing. The only one who has the power to return you is the one who brought you here. Until we can discover that, you cannot leave."
Marissa bowed her head in understanding, unable to feel completely sad or happy with that confirmation of her own suspicion. She was stuck here without a grand purpose but had no way of going home either. It was the outcome she had been both hoping and dreading, but for now she could only feel mild relief. So many questions were still unanswered.
Taiitsukun turned her attention back to Chichiri, her lips pressed together in concern. "She does not look it Chichiri, but that girl is dangerous to this world. If the knowledge she possesses were to fall into evil hands, it could give them the advantage they need and bring about the end of our existence. The evil false god does not care for this world, he wishes to open a gateway into Miaka's world and rule there. But if he learns that there is yet another world, beyond that of the Miko's, he will surely be driven by his greed to conquer that world as well.
"I am charging you with protecting this girl. We must make sure at all costs that she is not discovered by the enemy. Teach her how to defend herself, give her some proper clothes and a weapon to use. If she can disappear into our world without notice then perhaps we will have thwarted the evil forces."
Chichiri nodded gravely in understanding. "Wakaruyo no da."
Before Chichiri turned to go, Taiitsukun spoke once more, her voice more serious than it had ever been heard thus far. "Chichiri. You are to protect this girl, but remember that we know nothing of her reasons for being here. Until we do, if ever, she is no more than a vessel for the knowledge she has. If she is taken by the enemy, I will not hesitate to consider ending her life to prevent that information from falling into the wrong hands. You would be wise to consider the same. Now go."
Chichiri's face betrayed nothing of that foreboding conversation as he turned on his heel and walked back to Marissa's side. Her eyes were red but devoid of tears, a resigned expression on her face that quickly melted at his approach. As he was holding out his hand a small figure suddenly pushed her way between them, her childlike voice rising with worry.
"Taihen! Nyan nyan naosu!"
Marissa blinked back at the deep blue eyes which were hovering a few inches in front of her face. "What did she say Chichiri?"
"She wants to heal you no da."
"Hai, onegai," she replied immediately to the small, divine creature.
"Naosu naosu!" The Nyan nyan chanted as she cupped her hands over the bandage on Marissa's leg. A warm pink light evolved into a sphere between the girl's hands that gently merged with her thigh, a tingly warmth spreading through the limb and infusing Marissa with a renewed sense of life and energy.
When Nyan nyan pulled back her hands Marissa leaned forward and grabbed her impulsively in a hug. "Thank you! Oh, arigatou!"
The Nyan nyan giggled and spun happily in a circle before disappearing again with a loud pop, the hall echoing in finality with her departure. Marissa jiggled her leg experimentally, then proceeded to stand up on her own, both legs completely stable beneath her. She grinned happily and reached for the bandage, quickly untying the strips to reveal her unblemished and restored leg underneath.
"Come, lets go home no da," Chichiri urged gently, stepping aside to let Marissa precede him out of the temple.
Marissa stepped forward and looked back towards the head of the room, but Taiitsukun and the throne had disappeared as mysteriously as they had arrived. She offered a little smile to the empty air and then kept walking towards the exit, her feet practically itching with the urge to skip her way to the marble steps. When they reached the jade pillars she allowed herself to bounce jubilantly down the staircase, landing with both feet on the grass at the bottom.
Chichiri spread out his kesa once more and waited for Marissa to join him on the cloak. Before doing so she turned about fully, drinking in the beautiful surroundings one last time, unsure as to whether this would be the last time she'd see the fabled mountain top again in this world. Stepping solemnly onto the cloak she watched the distant misty waterfalls fall through their own curving rainbows, and this time when the light enveloped her body and drew her under its power, she had a smile on her face.
A/N: This chapter was brought to you by the letter N and the number 6. Stay tuned for chapter 19, same Chichiri time, same Chichiri channel.