Chapter 8:

Golden rays of sunlight fell in long strips across the floor of the small room, growing longer with each passing minute as a new day dawned upon the world of the four gods. Their finger-like ends alighted on a slumbering figure that lay upon a straw mat on the floor, caressing a smooth face and tanned skin, a blanket thrown over the rest of the body and clutched loosely to its chest. Bare feet poked out the end of the cover, pale and calloused skin covered with a light layer of dirt from living in a dusty world, their wanderings having taken them over many lands and climates. The figure stirred as the sun's light stretched across his face, one strip of light banding across one closed eye closed in blissful slumber, the other shut in painful remembrance forever.

Chichiri brought a strong, weathered hand up to shield his eyes from the yellow light, rolling over onto his side to escape from the ball of fire that beckoned him to rise and awaken. His long bangs became crushed beneath his face, creating a slightly unpleasant tugging sensation at his temple. Not to mention that the strands were starting to tickle his nose with every inward breath he took. With a small groan Chichiri turned over and pushed himself off the mat, his loose shirt falling open to reveal a well muscled chest, hairless and tanned like the rest of his skin, despite the fact that it had seen the sun the least.

He leaned forward into a sitting position, the blanket falling to his waist as he drew up his green clothed legs, one hand reaching around to scratch his short hair and disentangle any knots that had worked their way into his unbounded long strip of hair during the night. With a loud yawn he stretched both arms over his head, feeling his muscles tense and release with the action, his body protesting against being forced to sleep on a thin straw mat every night for the last five weeks. His head swiveled to the side almost unconsciously, one eye searching for his ward that usually lay peacefully asleep on the bed. He blinked twice though, before letting out a slightly confused, "Da?"

The bed was made and completely empty, save for the single pillow that lay at the head of it, and looking as though it hadn't been slept on for quite some time. Marissa's shoes were gone from the foot of the bed as well, her nightshirt resting neatly folded on the chair beside it.

Chichiri rose from the mat, eyeing the bed once more as though to confirm that it really was empty, then walked over to the door connecting the bedroom to the eating area. He half expected to hear the sounds of breakfast being made, something Marissa seemed to delight in as a surprise for him. He opened the door, only to be met with an empty room. The coals in the cooking pit glowed a dull red from the previous night's meal, but since then they had not been touched.

Worry started to work its way into Chichiri's mind, despite trying as hard as he could to brush it away. Yes, this was uncharacteristic of Marissa to rise so early and leave without a word, but it was nothing to get worried over, was it? His eye glanced around the room, noting that everything was still in place, no sign of a hasty departure or struggle. Chichiri let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Calm down, he told himself. She's got to be around here somewhere.

He walked over to the closed front door and opened it quickly, stepping outside into the chilly, mid morning air. He barely noticed that he was still wearing his sleeping clothes, his open white shirt and green pants being the only thing keeping the cool air at bay. Chichiri shivered lightly and stepped away from the house, his bare feet meeting the cold, dew covered ground. He glanced up and down the road that ran before the house, searching for any sign of his student or other life that might lead him to her.

When he saw nothing he turned to close the door quietly behind himself, then turned to the right to walk around the small structure they called home. He looked out once he reached the corner of it, eyeing the forest in the distance and the road that continued straight ahead, curving out of sight before it reached the nearby town they had visited together only a two weeks before. He stood still for a minute, listening to the sounds of the forest as it awoke to a new day, but could make out nothing that seemed unusual or had the possibility of leading him to her.

With something that sounded like a frustrated groan Chichiri turned away from the corner of the house and began walking back along the road. He could feel himself growing unnecessarily angry, knowing it was because he was starting to panic and the anger was helping to cover it up. He resisted the urge to call out for her. If something had happened he didn't want to alert who or whatever that might have taken her to his presence.

He rounded the other corner of the structure, his eye glancing over the large stretch of field that ran beside it. Another line of trees began in the distance, the dirt road cutting through the forest like a brown scar as it curved away to the north. His eye swept across the field that disappeared over the horizon, slowly making its way back to the area closer to the house. And then he stopped.

She was there, close enough to reach within a few steps. She had been there the whole time. Sitting atop a small hill that looked out over the small river which ran just beyond it, Tama-neko perched contentedly on her shoulder while she sat bent over something, her purplish hair glowing faintly orange in the new risen sun's light.

Chichiri's shoulders suddenly sagged as though being released from the burden of a heavy weight. His panic and anger quickly dissipated to be replaced by relief. She hadn't gone far, he would have heard her if anything happened, there was nothing to worry about. Being overprotective seemed to be one of his faults, even while he knew that worry and anger weren't going to get him anywhere.

After a moment though Chichiri began to contemplate the feelings that had overtaken him only minutes ago, minutes that had painfully dragged with each moment he'd searched. Why was that? Why had he let anger and worry cloud his mind so much when he should have been thinking clearly? He'd always been the calm and reliable one. Now was not the time to go off because of something small. True, she had never done such a thing before, but he knew her habits well enough by now, or at least he thought he did. She'd been hindered by her leg in the past and now that it was healed she had the freedom to journey wherever she pleased without having him by her side in case anything happened. And if something had happened there would have been other ways he could have known. By sensing the presence of someone else nearby, or she could have even alerted him through the telepathic link they shared.

His lips turned up in the barest of smiles as he recalled such an incident a few days ago. They'd been walking along the riverbank, heading downstream and into new territory for Marissa. She was enjoying her new found freedom without the burden of her injury and staff and was often ahead or behind Chichiri, exploring and discovering new things within or along the river every minute. Suddenly and out of nowhere, a loud voice had cut through Chichiri's thoughts when they reached a small pond leading off from the edge of the waterway. "Chichiri come look!!" He looked up and saw Marissa beckoning him to the edge of the still pool, realizing that she had both spoken aloud and in his mind. A small family of ducks had made a temporary home within the reeds by the edge of the pond and were currently examining the large, new creature that had stumbled upon their dwelling. Later he had questioned Marissa to see if she was aware of what she had done in her moment of excitement. She vaguely recalled reaching out to him, feeling that somehow a connection had been made but not sure what she had accomplished. If she could use telepathy while being moderately excited by a family of Mallards he was sure she'd alert him if anything more dire had happened.

"Chichiri! Chichiri!"

Chichiri looked up startled, not realizing that he had fallen into his own thoughts, and saw two wide pairs of eyes staring at him with looks of faint disbelief. Marissa turned to Tama-neko and they both gave small shrugs of incomprehension, then turned back to whatever task at hand they were occupied with.

Chichiri let out a small chuckle at their reaction and walked up behind the pair, joining Tama-neko in peering over Marissa's shoulder. She had a long pole set across her lap, which she was carefully shaping into a slender bow shape using her bare hands and ki to cut away small slivers of wood with each stroke she made across the length of it.

Chichiri let out a small noise of surprise and came around to sit on the other side of her, his eye closely watching her current project. "What are you making?" he asked after a moment of studying her creation but not understanding what it was.

She lifted the pole and set it upright between her legs. It was a little over four feet long and curved inwardly, each end coming to a dull point and thickening in the middle. "It's a bow," she stated.

Comprehension dawned on him. "Where's the string?" he asked.

"Hmm, I still need to get one, and make some arrows too. It's no good having a bow without arrows. Do you know how to make them, Chichiri?"

Chichiri shook his head, his long blue bangs waving slightly over his forehead. "We'll have to find some for you. Eh, Mari-chan, why did you leave so early? It was a bit... surprising to find you gone."

Marissa's eyes grew wide. "Oh I'm sorry! I didn't make you worry did I?"

Chichiri paused, then shook his head in the negative. "Iie, it was just surprising, that's all."

"Oh," Marissa replied, setting the bow across her lap again. "Well I've been meaning to make this for a few days and I was feeling restless so I decided to go out, see the sunrise, get to work you know. I am sorry if I made you worry. You didn't need to get up, I was gonna come right back in when I finished anyway."

Chichiri shook his head once more. "Daijobu, the sun woke me up anyway." Suddenly he rose, brushing off the bottom of his pants as he removed traces of the dewy grass he'd just sat on. Marissa looked up, slightly puzzled at his action. "I'll go in and start breakfast. You should come in too, it's wet out here and not as warm as it used to be in the mornings."

Marissa let out a short laugh. "I used my ki so much that I think I warmed up all the grass under me. It stopped feeling wet after the first few minutes."

Chichiri allowed himself a small smile, which immediately faded though as he turned to leave. "Very well then, but come in for breakfast," he ordered over his shoulder, walking towards the small structure they both called home.

He could feel the first tendrils of guilt seeping into his mind, quietly yet harshly reminding him of the vow he'd made 4 years before, a vow of penance and irrevocable blame. He'd worked hard to keep happiness and joy at bay, placing the smiling mask over his face to please those that didn't wish to see the scarred face of his guilt, the scar that he wouldn't allow to heal, both externally and internally. Marissa had become a ray of sunshine in his life, bringing back laughter and giving him small moments of peace. But he didn't deserve those. Peace of mind was not worthy for one so stained, so guilty of a crime that he couldn't even consider telling Marissa of, nor any of the other seishi about, his closest friends since...

With a shake of his head Chichiri opened the front door of their cabin, noticing with slight dismay that the fire had cooled and burnt out. He collected a few logs from beside the stone fireplace and placed them inside, then ignited a flame beneath the pile with a small burst of ki from his hand. He straightened a glanced around, taking in their supplies and what could be made for breakfast. Rice... some dried fish... Marissa had once mentioned having eggs for breakfast, an idea he had been willing to comply with only after her heated persuasion that he'd actually enjoy it. The memory was warm and comforting, that of one of the many nights they had stayed up talking beside the fire, strange things like what to eat for breakfast coming into the conversation.

"Stop it," Chichiri growled lightly to himself. Now or ever wasn't the time to reminisce on pleasant memories, no matter how innocent they seemed. He felt almost as though he was betraying their memory, enjoying life while they had none to live. He'd already sought to end his life once but he was somehow saved, another blow to his already shattered heart that wanted to die along with them. Becoming a monk was supposed to give him the solitude to contemplate life and death, to always carry the weight of their lives upon him, never any moment of rest from the guilt that tainted him.

But not now, now he had a student and young woman to look after that demanded his attention, no matter how reluctant he was to give it. Duty and honor to Taiitsukun forbid him to forget about her, but there was something else too... He never smiled as much as he did when he was around her, never found the small things in life so amusing, never found himself seeking another's companionship when thoughts wanting to be told crossed his mind. What was she doing to him? No, it was his fault for letting this happen. She was innocent, pure, unknown to the trials of life that he had witnessed and been through. She treated him with the kindness and compassion that would be shown to any other, but for him, he did not deserve such a thing. Of course he couldn't tell her that, she didn't deserve to bear the weight of his sorrow and guilt as well. He would just have to remain more in control of his own feelings, to not let the situations get to him, and to always remind himself why he had chosen this path. Duty to his god and to his mentor kept him alive, from joining his companions in the afterlife.

Chichiri set the pot of rice cooking over the fire, rice and fish once again on the menu for breakfast. His own discrepancy over breakfast became audible in a few seconds when Marissa stepped into the room.

"Rice and fish again?" She whined piteously, flopping down on a bench as Tama-neko hopped from her shoulder to the table top.

Resisting the smile that threatened to rise Chichiri headed for the bedroom, returning a moment later with his mask firmly in place, red sash around his waist, and shirt properly pinned to the side, then bent to check the fish which were now cooking over the fire.

He heard Marissa sigh quietly, though the cause of it eluded him. Once again he fought back the urge to turn around and question her, the need to comfort something he had never questioned or stopped before. But it was different now. It had been a little over a month, a month too long that he'd let himself enjoy life, enjoy intimate companionship.

It had been different with the seishi. They were dear friends to him, but there was never time to share inner thoughts, never the chance to lower their guard for a moment lest their enemies should attack them. Everyone had to be ready to fight and there was never any chance of forming the close bonds that could have been created if it was any other situation. And he had always made a point anyway of remaining the friendly yet mysterious one, that could be counted on in a pinch or to offer advice when it was needed. But compared to the rest he was just an observer, a protector, a guide. Everyone had their own problems at the time, a country to protect, love to find and save, past events to come to terms with, time to overcome new grief, and friends to win back. But not him. He was the eldest, the one they came to for advice and guidance. Only one person had ever inquired about his past, their ever genki Suzaku no Miko.

He recalled the day clearly, sitting beside the pond, his line lowered into the water but with the intention of fishing never his plan. Everyone had been uptight and trying to cope in their own way with the failure of the ceremony to call Suzaku. Nuriko and Tasuki releasing their anger on each other a short distance behind him, prompting an embarrassed "daaa," to escape his lips. And then she had appeared beside him, quiet, her thoughts turned inward, but seeking companionship nonetheless. He knew of the requirements that had to be met by the Miko and could easily guess what was disturbing her, that and many other things.

Then she'd asked about his mask, wishing to hide her own troubles behind a smiling face, and for the first time he had revealed something about his past to one of them. He felt that perhaps her knowing some of what he'd gone through would help her to see that her problems were not so great as to need a mask to hide behind, but rather that they could be worked out with time, unlike his... He hadn't meant to be selfish, only to guide her in the right direction by giving her something concrete to see and hear.

"Ano, Chichiri, doushita no?"

As though opening his eyes for the first time Chichiri saw the tray in his hand, two whole steaming fish sitting atop a matt of bamboo, then looked up from where he was standing at the head of the table to see Marissa staring at him with concern.

"Nandemonai no da," he replied cheerfully, hoping to dispel that look of worry from her face.

"Are you sure?" she prompted. "I called you twice in English and when you didn't respond I asked in Japanese. You looked like you were thinking hard about something. Want to talk about it?"

The look on her face was so sincere, so open, willing to hear anything his soul was willing to pour out. But he couldn't, not with anyone, and especially not with her. "I was just thinking of a conversation I had with Miaka once no da. Nothing important."

"Hmm?" Marissa turned her head away, one finger resting thoughtfully on her chin. "Now when did you have a conversation with her? If I had to guess I'd think... hmm, that was the only time you guys had a little peace..." by now her voice had trailed off into low undertones, her thoughts voicing themselves quietly. "That's gotta be it," she proclaimed after a few seconds, looking up at Chichiri as he set the tray onto the table. "That time by the fish pond, right? Right after you guys tried to call Suzaku and failed. I'm right aren't I?"

Chichiri froze, his hands resting palm down on the table top. Had she read his mind? No, he'd felt nothing of her presence. She seemed to be remembering, as though she herself had witnessed the event. Chichiri clenched his hands, strongly resisting the urge to question where her knowledge had come from. She was a complete enigma in that respect. He recalled that she had mentioned something about 18 books and their world being contained within them. Perhaps that's where from.

"Chichiri?"

"Eh, hai no da! You guessed right no da."

"Wai!" she cried, clapping her hands together. "But that wasn't a guess mind you," she continued, wagging a finger in his direction. "This girl's got a photographic memory, not to mention I've seen the series like... oh shit."

Chichiri looked up to see Marissa blushing furiously, her head bowed over the table.

"Nevermind," she whispered, avoiding his questioning stare.

Whatever had happened, she'd been about to reveal something to him and had only just managed to catch herself. They had both been getting careless, Chichiri realized. They were getting too comfortable, to familiar with each other, and things were slipping.

He turned back to check on the rice, hearing Marissa play with Tama-neko behind him, the slip-up already forgiven and forgotten.

Yes, they were both getting careless, and that would have to stop now. No matter what the consequences were, they'd both have to accept it sooner or later, he knew that for sure. They each had their secrets, kept for good reasons, and any revelation on either one's part could jeopardize things permanently between them. Put a smile on the outside, that's what they were both doing now. Burying down the words begging to be told, setting aside their feelings to make room for duty and destiny. They were more alike then he wanted to admit. But because they shared such a close bond it was all the more reason to push them farther apart. He had to, she would understand and do the same eventually. Teacher and student once again, friends on the outside, but sharing the same soul on the inside... yet neither could do anything about it.

~*~*~*~

Check out the rest of my writings and updates for this story at http://home.pacbell.net/gahran :)