Author's notes: My goodness, you won't believe the ordeals I've gone through to finally get this chapter done. It was actually at 10 pages over a month ago, then suddenly decided it didn't want to be finished and left me to face a crazy barrage of family/bf problems and crashed computers. But here it is, hopefully at its peak of perfection! Enjoy!
p.s. Reviews and artwork always do wonders as well ;) Go here! http: // tech-help.biz / niki / chichiri. html
p.p.s. The formatting sucks right now, but I know how impatient you all are *glances at her beta* But I'll work on it later when I get home and hopefully clean it up a bit. *kicks ff.net*
Chapter 17 - The Wrong Way Up
It's not good to climb a mountain with a tiger,
You're wobbly, you're nervous, every move you make is tense
Suddenly something you remember could help you now -
And if you do what you learnt then you won't fall foul.
Picking forlornly at the half eaten bowl of rice in front of her, one elbow propped upon the table while her hand rested against her left cheek bone, it wasn't until Marissa felt a sharp pain in her shin that she looked in surprise. Chichiri, to her right, was eating his chicken dish slowly and politely, oblivious to the bandit across from him that was giving Mari a teasing glare.
"Welcome back, ne-chan," the red-head smirked, lifting his large mug to take a healthy swig of the warm rice wine inside.
Marissa rolled her eyes at Tasuki before dropping them back down to stare uninterestedly at her plate. After a deliberate second she raised her eyes to study Chichiri under her lashes, but quickly averted her gaze back to her food when he changed hands and reached for his mug of water. An inaudible sigh escaped her lips. Her joy of discovery this afternoon had quickly turned into something else. A sunken pit of fear was slowly turning in her stomach. From the moment they'd ridden away from the dilapidated house she'd felt Chichiri's gaze on her, both by her newborn sixth sense, and by the method every human is inborn with that prickles the hairs on the backs of their necks when someone's eyes are set upon them. But it wasn't the look of a lost lover, nor that of a man pining remorsefully over his mistakes. It was a look that Marissa feared to name when she felt it descend upon her. He was looking at her as though she was a complete stranger.
That gaze unnerved her terribly. In their entire time together nothing she had done, whether it was magic, klutziness, slipped references to her world, or outbursts of anger, had ever given him cause to look at her that way. It alienated her from him and made her feel like a complete stranger, as though suddenly she had changed that made her unrecognizable, and it was only apparent to him. But the worst of it was that she couldn't say anything. Their relationship was so precariously balanced right now that she feared to say words that might come across as accusing. And of what for that matter? For being curious? Watching her covertly? Could she really stand up and make an argument against actions so insignificant, especially when he was obviously doing his best to hide them from her? Just shut up and take it, she thought sternly. At least he's doing it without making you feel like someone's breathing down your neck every second.
Perhaps he hadn't even counted in her noticing, in light of how fleeting each scrutiny was. He might not have even considered her newly honed extra sense kicking in. But it made the whole experience still more unnerving, for though she couldn't read his thoughts outright, the emotions seeping off of him were hard to miss. Extreme curiosity, wonderment, and fear… the memory of that emotion made her shiver, and for a brief moment she felt a sharp stab of guilt at being the cause of something so dark resting on his conscious. But it passed quickly on a wave of irritation. So what? It's his problem, not yours. If he doesn't want to talk to you about whatever it is, so be it.
But a heavy sense of apprehension lingered. What had she said or done? Had she offended him somehow? Could he really be that upset over her wanting to tend to an ill child? It hadn't even been anything serious or life threatening, simply an illness that the mother had been too hysterical to recognize. Could he... the thought was laughable but came up nonetheless... be jealous of her progress? She shrugged that thought away as soon as it sprung up. Chichiri was not the jealous type. At least, not intellectually, she corrected herself, and suddenly felt a wave of shame sweep over her as she realized just what she'd been thinking. I'm sorry... she apologized quickly, as though the thought might make up for having stepped upon such a delicate subject. No matter that nothing had been said outloud. It was still rude, even in her own head.
With a soft clatter she let her chopsticks fall to the half eaten plate in front of her. Both Chichiri and Tasuki glanced up at the sound, but it was Tasuki who spoke around a mouthful of noodles. "Ya dun, ne-chan?"
Marissa nodded silently, but a second later she raised her head with a smile. "I'm feeling pretty worn out and tired. Would it be ok if I just went to bed now?"
"It's not a problem, Mari-chan no da," Chichiri replied, reaching into a pocket on his waist and pulling out a set of two keys on a small brass ring. He deftly removed one of the keys and pushed it across the table towards Marissa, but as she made to take it his hand didn't leave its place over the key.
She raised her eyes curiously, but found his gaze still hovering on the table top where the key sat. "Just make sure you lock the door after you go in no da," he advised softly. "Tasuki and I will knock twice, then come in with our own key later. Don't let anyone else in, ok no da?"
Marissa nodded, bewildered and touched at the same time, and made again to reach for the key. Just before her hand reached his fingers he pulled back quickly, settling them around his cup as though he'd intended to do it all along, but the minute trembling of his fingers told Marissa something different. He can't even stand to touch me...
She snatched the key off the table and rose with as much deliberate dignity as she could muster. A clipped 'oyasumi' left her lips before she turned and headed for the stairs, two 'oyasumi nasai (no da)'s from the table following her departure.
* * * * * * *
In the morning, just as dawn was breaking over the eastern hills, Chichiri found himself awake and staring up contemplatively at the wood ceiling over his bed. Sometime in the past someone had stood upon the bed and taken liberties with a hunting knife on the wall behind his head, where several Chinese symbols had been crudely carved into the grain. They read, "The Dragon's Gate is always open." Someone's attempt at bad poetry perhaps. Or they'd fancied themselves a prankster, scaring those who might sleep in the same bed and look up to see the ominous message.
For a brief moment he longed for the bed at the small house he'd spent 3 months of his life in, really the longest he'd stayed anywhere since beginning his wanderings. Granted, he'd slept on the floor after Marissa had come, but it was still comfortable, a plush feather down mat on a smooth wood floor that often left him feeling well rested when compared to many of the other sleeping accommodations he'd had during his life. Inn beds were as cheap as they got, for even a celebrity with no money ever got the best that was available. They were straw and made noises when you barely turned over, plus the pillows being straw too, with some down feathers mixed in if you were lucky. The sounds were painfully different as well. Noises of other human life, mixed breathing patterns around him in the room, pots and pans clattering together downstairs as the cook began preparing before the morning crowd. He longed for the peace again, for nature, for the stillness that always arrived right before dawn, just as the birds began to awaken and twitter to life, letting him know a new day had come. People horribly underestimated the calming peace living the life of a hermit brought to a man.
He missed her too.
Her smell that would permeate the room and bed after a good bathing. Her soft snores and the way she would make little whimpers while sleeping, fingers twitching as she experienced another dream world. Even the smell of burning fish made him think of her, recalling her few failed attempts at cooking. She had gotten better though over time, and he did miss those quiet meals they shared together, their shared smiles filling the room with more warmth than the fire ever could. It hurt now to reminisce on those things, but there was no harm except the pain it inflicted on himself, and he was used to pain in all forms. Love and death, two kinds of pain very similar, very strangely intertwined when one paused to think about it. Sometimes the loss of love simply was death.
He found himself standing beside her bed before he was aware of where his feet were taking him, looking down at her face while she slept. It was a ritual he hadn't meant to happen. On the night before their departure from the cabin he'd been guilt ridden and concerned over her well-being, promising himself to make sure that nothing would disturb her well deserved sleep, and so had stood at her side for nearly an hour, merely staring and letting the cold void in his stomach seep out slowly to the rest of him. Then at the Inn he'd heard her tossing and turning all night, finally settling down at some late hour that even he couldn't place, which had led him to her side in the early dawn, fearing the sight of dried tears on her cheeks. But there were none then, and there were none now, and with a pang of selfishness he wondered if she ever would. She was not a woman prone to tears though, the only ones he had ever seen fall having done so during the worst moments of fright and insecurity.
Against the white pillow her hair looked more brown than deep red, the mysterious sunlight only present at dawn coloring the room in a gold hue that was slowly intensifying with each passing second. The rays were distorting everything they touched, scattering around the room like flittering butterflies that wished to settle upon everything in sight. They touched upon her lips, which were bright and slightly parted, a faint snore trickling out from between the pink petals. She looked radiant and innocent, save for the paleness in her cheeks, and fleetingly Chichiri worried that she was colder than she looked. Silently he reached for the blanket lying across her chest and dragged it higher up, letting it fall gently over her neck. It was simply natural that he let his hand linger longer than necessary so close to her skin, slowly bringing his fingers along her cheek, feeling the warm flesh slowly rise and fall with each breath. Her hair seemed just a little out of place, so there was nothing wrong with pulling a few locks aside, feeling slightly proud that he might have made her more comfortable. But too soon he had to draw back, watching her shift slightly in sleep as the gentle touch left her forehead.
"You aren't mine to have," he proclaimed in a voice no louder than the softest whisper, and bowed his head, unable to leave her side just yet.
* * * * * * *
They were on the road again, not an hour after the sun had risen over the brown eastern hills surrounding Lian. A quick breakfast for the humans and horses (the bill for everything gratefully waived by the Inn keeper after realizing the fame of his houseguests) had set them on their journey again, this time slowly trudging up the twisted path that led them through the southern hills and towards their final destination of Eiyou. They were still several days off their goal, but the weather had been fair, if not nippy enough at times to cause them to don heavier coats, but the ground was hard packed and gave them easy travel time. In part though, their quick pace was spurred by the looming threat of heavy rainstorms, whose sudden appearances left the roads muddy and untraversable, which would force the trio to postpone their trip for days, if not weeks, longer. Konan suffered under heavy, cold rain during the winter, monsoons that swept in from the eastern shore and swirled across their portion of the world with surprising ferocity. Lightening storms on the forefront of the rains were a common and spectacular sight, but not without their own dangers, as the occasional blackened tree stump proved to remind people. And while in other parts of the world the outer arms of these storms dropped loads of snow and sleet and gave citizens a winter wonderland, in Konan it simply rained for days.
It was nearing late afternoon, having ridden the entire day with only one stop for lunch and water for the horses, when they came upon the crossroads. The dusty trail had left behind the hills hours ago, placing them on level terrain with occasional ups and downs, though nothing as intimidating as their first venture out of Lian. The thick forests had stayed behind with the hills they'd last descended from a few short hours ago, leaving their surroundings composed entirely of fields and spotted clusters of trees, while the sound of a river or stream trickled by at regular intervals as the highway wound this way and that. There'd been no alternative routes up until now, this main thoroughfare a seemingly well traveled yet sparsely settled commute, perhaps the proximity to the north and no major waterways having something to do with it. Yet having come to an intersection of sorts they were left with a choice. Before the branch the path widened considerably up to where it suddenly split in two; one direction heading southeast, the other southwest. There were no signs or markers of any sort, but when Chichiri pulled up his head horse and had them stop, Marissa had an inkling that he knew where they were.
"Na, Chiri, which way?" Tasuki called out from his place in back.
"The right one. It's the road that'll take us right into Eiyou no da."
"Yosha! Bu' where's th' other one go? I ain't neva been tha' way 'fore." Tasuki asked curiously, craning his neck to look down the other dusty lane.
"Not much," Chichiri responded. "Towards the east coast, a few towns, fishing villages, not much no..."
In a flash of insight, Marissa was certain she knew where else the other road led.
"Shoryuu," she interrupted softly.
Chichiri glanced to the rider on his left, masking his surprise, but found her looking off to the east with an unreadable expression on her face. "Hai," he replied, struggling to repress any change of pitch that threatened to break into his voice. "That's why we're going west no da." With a kick slightly harder than he'd intended, he directed his horse along the rightmost path, hearing Tasuki curse in annoyance as his horse stood steadfast on the road despite the harsh kicks his rider was giving him. But their last rider wasn't following.
At the crossroads Marissa stood staring a moment longer down the left road, imagining that just over the rise she might be able to see the town where Chichiri grew up in, or what was left of the village. Perhaps they had rebuilt it in the years since the flood. With a sinking feeling in her heart she knew she would never find out what had become of the place. Using the gentle pressure of her thighs, as kicking had never been necessary to direct Hou, Marissa cantered after her two companions, feeling almost childishly disappointed that their mission was preventing her from living out a fangirl's fantasy.
Looking up, her breath hitched for a second when she became aware of the gaze that was pinned on her by Chichiri. He sat straight on his horse, but his head was barely turned in her direction, those masked eyes studying and wondering. It was the same look again. Feeling her cheeks burn, Marissa quickly looked the other way, pressing her lips together until she felt her teeth dig painfully into the soft flesh. She hated it. His silent stares and mute curiosity. She felt like a lab rat under his gaze, always being studied to the point of voyeurism, but never spoken to as if she were a human being wondering what the hell was going on.
Angrily she gripped Hou's reigns tighter, wishing she had a decent aim and something to throw to nail right at the back of Chichiri's head. It'd serve the jerk right. Let him puzzle over that for a change, wondering why he suddenly had dozens of projectiles hitting him from behind. But the anger washed away as quickly as it had come, and resignedly Marissa let her chin sag to rest against her chest, allowing Hou to simply guide herself. Let him stare all he wants. If he wants to see me sad and pathetic, so be it. Are you getting a good look Chichiri? Are you happy with what you see? Do you even care anymore? I wish you'd leave me alone... just leave me alone...
* * * * * * *
Just as the bloated orange sun touched the horizon the trio set up a small camp some distance off the main road under a copse of sheltering trees and close to a steady stream that bubbled cheerfully within hearing distance. The horses were fed and watered first, then tied securely to three separate trees with clean grass underfoot. A small fire pit was quickly erected by Tasuki, who claimed sole duty of the chore as he was the Master of Fire; though not surprisingly the job of wood collecting was placed entirely on Marissa's shoulders. With an enthusiastic 'Lekka Shinen!' the fire was blazing and soon dinner was on everyone's mind.
Retrieving his fishing pole from the unknown depths of his kasa, Chichiri was only too happy to oblige and walked off to find the creek and that evening's dinner. As his footfalls reached the edge of the trees both Marissa and Tasuki sunk down on either side of the fire, sore thighs and legs begging for a rest from the day's constant riding. It was silent between them, but the absence of sound was neither oppressive nor uncomfortable, at least not to Marissa. She'd spent a lot of time today conversing with her own thoughts, and that the evening might be more of the same didn't surprise her.
After a few minutes though Tasuki picked up one of the spare pieces of kindling, a short thick stick, and began tapping it rhythmically against his booted foot. When the sound didn't desist after more than a minute Mari looked up, wondering just what was on the bandit's mind, but he startled her by speaking first.
"So ya wanna talk 'bout it?"
Marissa blinked at Tasuki in surprise. "Talk about what?"
Tasuki faintly smiled and jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction Chichiri had headed off in.
Marissa found herself blushing uncomfortably. "There's nothing to talk about, really."
Tasuki 'hmm'ed thoughtfully then was silent, his eyes watching Marissa's face with a look of sympathy she wished wasn't there. After a moment he picked up the stick that had been resting across his ankle and poked contemplatively at the fire in front of them, sending up little flurries of sparks into the night air. "I've known Chiri a'wile, but I dun really know 'em, if ya get my meanin. He's a good man n all, real secretive tho, but smart as hell. When we all met 'em, he was weird n sumtimes way too damn childish, but we learn'd real fast tha' he was th' mos' powerful o' us all. Tama-chan n Hotohori tried ta act like they were th' best n all, but I think them two were jus' too scared shitless tha' there was someone as strong as Chichiri n our side. I weren't there er nuthin, but I heard how he stood up 'gainst Nakago. Out o' us all, I think Chiri was th' only one strong enuf ta fight tha' bastard face ta face, e'en before we all went n got our new shit from th' Baba.
"I didn used ta think 'bout Chiri much, like as a man n all. Wasn't till th' end when e'eryone was gone n he n I were wanderin tha' I started ta wonder. We'd all been thru tons o' shit, sum o' us worse then others n' our pasts, but I think Chiri might've gone thru th' worst. He ain't neva said nuthin, ta me a' least, but I seen th' way he looks a' people sumtimes. Tha' kina longin, jealous but sad a' th' same time. Yanno wha I mean? I couldn' place it a' firs when I saw it, but now I kno it comes from a deep, ol' wound tha' still ain't healed up. But yanno, whateva's been botherin 'em fer so long, he's still a good man unerneath it all, n' I trust tha' guy with ma life. So whateva happened between ya two, I bet its hurtin em jus' as much, 'cause Chiri ain't th' type o' man ta forget nuthin', an tha' ol' wound proves it."
Falling silent, Tasuki spent another moment pursing his lips before looking up at Marissa, who was staring off to the side with a saddened expression. "Ya gonna give em another chance, ne-chan?"
Marissa sighed heavily and gave her shoulders a noncommittal roll, reaching up to scratch the side of her neck. "I don't know."
"Why?" Tasuki put to her point blankly.
Marissa slowly worried her lower lip a moment before answering. "I'm not sure it's worth it. I feel like he has enough on his mind without worrying about our relationship… friendship," she added quickly. Tasuki nodded solemnly at that, still poking at the healthy fire, for once being a considerate listener as Marissa picked back up her train of thought.
"Sometimes I wish it could go back to the way it was. Being in the house with him and not really, seriously worrying about the world outside. Like he trained me, and it was fun, but a lot of the time I could forget about the future and just think that I was learning neat new tricks, stuff I could never do in my world. It always felt so peaceful there, like everyday I was learning something great. I think I needed the distraction, to not wake up every morning worrying about being that much closer to... the future. But then you came and…" she trailed off and looked away guiltily.
A genuine smile spread over Tasuki's features. "An made ya remember it all?"
Marissa nodded and threaded her fingers around her knees, drawing them up towards her chest and curling inward with guilt over the emotions Tasuki seemed to pick up so easily. "Don't get me wrong though. I like you fine, Genrou, I just… couldn't help but feel… annoyed, and betrayed, that you had suddenly come back and was the reason for up starting this whole trip. Deep inside I knew it had to happen, but that still didn't stop me from getting upset about it. And now all we're thinking about is this mission to get to the capital, just like what I was afraid of, and it seems almost… rude, to try and bother Chichiri about something that doesn't matter as much as this trip does." She gave a half hearted sigh and looked up to find Tasuki smiling one of his crooked grins.
"Yer honest, ne-chan, tha's nice ta see in a woman, but ya still dun think of yerself enuff." Dropping the burnt stick into the fire, Tasuki scooted back then dropped his elbows onto his knees, cradling his chin in one of his upturned palms. "Dun worry 'bout what's in th' past. Yer nice an a decent person, but ya dun give people a chance ta think fer themselves. Mebbe he just needs time, ne? I'm worried 'bout em too, I ain't neva seen em this quiet. An trust me, I've seen em meditatin like th' world could end round him an he ain't movin fer nuthin. Sumthin's botherin em, an it's 'bout you, so dun go thinking that ya dun matter more than some dumb trip."
Marissa blushed and gave a single nod, dropping her head with the movement. "I know I should give him time, but it's just hard to think… wait," she stopped speaking and lifted her head to blink at Tasuki in bewilderment. "Did the world's biggest woman hater just call me 'nice' and 'decent'?"
Tasuki let out a loud snort and sat up straight. "Well when ya lived a life like mine a man's gotta right ta hate mos' women. But I'd be damn stupid ta neva see which ones er decent an which er th' ones ta keep 'way from. Like Miaka, she was our Priestess, was annoyin in th' beginnin, but she turn'd out ok. Better with Tama tho, I dun know anyone willin ta share tha' much food, knowin she'd clean yer plate n her own."
A soft chuckle and a nod from Marissa caused Tasuki to raise an eyebrow at her in curiosity. "Then agin, maybe ya knew tha' already?"
Marissa attempted a smile and nodded slowly, uncurling her fingers from around her knees, opting to pick at the fabric of her dress instead. "Yeah. I know a lot." The confession immediately made her feel uncomfortable, but relieved for finally being able to say it. She chanced a look at Tasuki, worried that perhaps he'd take it no better than he had last time, since in truth she'd been awake to hear the bandit's tirade when he was told she knew about their personal lives and struggles. Instead, she was surprised to find him looking at her with a deep expression of sympathy. In the firelight his amber eyes glowed an intense orange, almost frightening to behold, but despite their fiery depths they were understanding and open. Attempting a smile, he placed his hands in his lap and looped his fingers together, leaning forward slightly into the warmth of the fire. "Did ya wanna talk 'bout it? Anythin, really. I ain't gonna bug ya for future crap, but th' past's dun with. There's nuthin wrong with talkin 'bout that."
Genuinely surprised, it was nearly a full minute before a slow smile spread across Marissa's face. "Thank you," she replied softly. Uncurling herself from the ball she'd been gathered in before, she relaxed into a cross legged position on the ground and copied Tasuki's stance, gazing across the fire at the seishi with newfound respect.
"Actually, I was wondering if I could ask you a question?"
A nervous smile flitted across Tasuki's face before smoothing away into a smirk. "Depenin on th' question if I'm gonna answer."
"Well… this is something I've wondered about a bit. Why did you join up with the seishi? I mean, you had made all that effort to trick them and send them off on a goose chase to find Shouka, only to end up following them anyway and saving their butts, which was good I mean, but still. Why?" Marissa watched Tasuki expectantly over the fire, laying his offer to talk out in the wide open.
"Well… shit." Tasuki ran a hand through his hair and spared Marissa a wary look before taking a deep breath, collecting his thoughts together. "Well... ya gotta know my mom ta know why. Ya dun know 'bout my mom… do ya?" he asked suspiciously as an afterthought.
Marissa stifled a smile. "I know a little bit… not everything. I know you have 5 sisters, all older than you, and a mom who you hate pretty much, as she smothered you with her breasts when you were a baby, which is the reason why you hate milk, and your sisters tried to drown you while giving you swimming lessons when you were younger, which is why you can't swim either."
Unexpectedly Tasuki smiled, revealing every front tooth and sharp fang he possessed. "Hell woman, tha' jus' saved me a shitload o' story tellin. Well ma mom, all my life she's been a protectin me, treatin me like a baby an bein way too damn annoyin. Tha's why I ran away in th' firs place, got ma name changed an became a bandit. All tha' stuff ya jus' said is th' same story e'ery one knows 'bout ma family, but only Kouji knows th' real stuff.
"Ma mom knew from th' moment I came outta her I was gonna be a seishi. Destiny an prophesy crap like tha'. An she made sure all ma life I was the biggest fuckin pansy in th' whole damned town. I got picked on, kicked in shit, e'en by my own sisters, cause ma mom coddled me so damn much. She neva wanted me ta be a seishi or a warrior er nuthin but her baby. An I hated it. So I got tough an ran 'way from home an swore I'd neva be what ma mom want'd me ta be.
"Then some day, this chick an her posse come ta Hakurou's fortress, sayin she's the Miko and lookin for me. Well dammit, I'd jus' gotten back from tryin ta find a cure for Hakurou's illness, foun out my spot for leader'd been taken by tha' shit Eiken, an tha' my best buddy was hidin fer his life cause he'd tried ta fight 'gainst em. I weren't leavin fer nuthin, not no Miko or destiny or god."
"Then why'd you go back?" Marissa interrupted curiously. "When you rejoined them you just said you and Kouji talked it over and he was going to be the new leader."
Tasuki nodded. "Ya I said tha' then, but it ain't th' whole truth. Few days after Miaka an em left Kouji sat me down n made me remember all the shit ma mom had put me through, n how I'd swore I weren't gonna become the pansy she wanted me ta be. An I knew he was right, I jus' hated tha' she'd had ta come get me right when I was gonna be th' leader 'gain. Bu' I had Kouji ta kick me in th' ass, so I made em temporary leader an wen' after em ta help out. Shit, good thin I did, those wimps couldn' even fight off a buncha zombies!"
Marissa burst out laughing at Tasuki's last comment, as the bandit was eating his own words with every degrading remark towards the other seishi. It was in this state, with Tasuki having joined with his own loud chuckles, that Chichiri found them in as he returned from his fishing trip. Their snorts and giggles quickly subsided at the sight of the monk, who looked embarrassed and surprised at finding his two companions getting along so merrily. He presented them with his catch silently, four fish already gutted and awaiting a slow cook over the open fire.
When the tantalizing smell of fresh water fish cooked with a splash of lemon juice floated through the campsite, Tama-chan chose to emerge from the grove of trees to claim his portion; having bolted from one of the packs secured on Chichiri's horse to explore the surrounding area when they'd stopped for the evening. Each traveler was given their share, along with several honey cakes warmed by the fire that had been bought just for this situation. Night had finally fallen over the forest, the only light in the sky cast by the multitude of stars slowly spinning in the murky whirlpool overhead. The fire, now made even larger by adding the rest of their kindling, was a welcomed warmth in the cooling air and everyone sat as close as possible without being scorched, enjoying their warm meal with relish.
During the informal dinner, Marissa and Tasuki exchanged several more conversations, but those were spoken in hushed tones cut through by bouts of laughter on both of their parts. They hadn't meant to seem as though they were being secretive, but after Chichiri had returned it had felt wrong to continue their game of question and answer with the stoic monk present, who gave the impression that he was neither listening nor paying attention to what either of them had to say. So when Marissa had leaned over with a half-smile to put another question to the seishi, he had answered in the same muted tones while chewing around his meal. They conversed that way for awhile on their side of the fire, even after the last of the fish and cakes had been eaten and the bones tossed into the amber flames. It wasn't until a yawn ripped through Tasuki unexpectedly that they realized just how long they must have been talking.
"Tha's it ne-chan, I'm goin ta bed, ya ain't allowed ta ask me anythin else till tamorrow. Gotit?"
Marissa let a flash of disappointment cross her face before nodding in understanding. "I have to warn you though. I'll think up a lot more to ask overnight, so you better be prepared."
"Hai hai," Tasuki drawled, back turned while spreading out his bedroll a few feet away from the dancing flames.
When he finished the task he took a step back over to Marissa, who was still seated in front of the fire with one of the spare blankets wrapped around her shoulders. "Na, ne-chan. Ya should be goin ta bed too, unless..." at this a grin crossed his face and he leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "Dun think Chiri would min a bit o' questionin emself, if yer up ta it." He flashed a wink to her scowling expression, then plodded back to his bedroll, falling onto his back with an 'oof'. Within no less than five minutes the first rumblings of a snore could be heard escaping the fire seishi and Marissa found herself envying his ability to fall asleep so quickly.
Then, so unexpected it was when Chichiri spoke in English, that the blanket fell from her shoulders when she jumped in surprise.
"I... I'm sorry, what?" she stammered, tugging the fallen edges back around her.
"I was wondering if you're feeling alright no da."
For a moment the rate of her heartbeat sped up and she felt her stomach suddenly burn with nervousness and uncertainty. "I... I don't... huh?"
"You've been looking unwell lately no da," Chichiri clarified, unfolding from his meditative pose to scoot closer to the fire. "I was wondering if you're feeling alright no da."
"I'm fine," Marissa answered, voice steady, but blinking rapidly. "I don't feel ill at all. Why do you ask?"
"I thought you've been looking pale, but perhaps I was wrong no da."
Though the butterflies swarming in her stomach had switched from frenzied to a slower migration, it took a generous amount of willpower to keep her voice from betraying the fast pace of her heart. "Thank you for asking. But really, I feel fine."
With that the silence prevailed again, louder than ever, yet the warm blood pulsing through her ears remained quick and ever present. Just my luck that when he finally speaks to me like a real person I turn into a quivering mess. What to say now? Or say anything at all? Does he want to talk? Or am I going to make a fool out of myself... again.
The petulant remark was out before she could stop it. "I'm surprised you even noticed something like that."
He raised his head, pinning her with a steady look over the top of the fire. "Mari-chan, you think I don't care for your well-being no da?"
Marissa bit her lip in embarrassment as his forthrightness. "Er…" Oh just stop it and be blunt for once. "Yes," she finished.
Chichiri actually had the decency to look wounded by her confession. His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly and his normally perky bangs slowly drooped to hang listlessly down his forehead. After a few seconds his right hand started to move towards the mask on his face, but then dropped back down before getting halfway there. "I'm sorry you feel that way no da."
"I don't want to," she countered in a half mumble, feeling guilty. "Lately it hasn't felt like I've had much of a choice though."
There was another long segment of silence after that, Marissa half swimming in her thoughts while at the same time wondering if this was the end of their conversation. She wasn't going to push him to say anything that might help her feel better. She would rather hear the truth and be hurt than spared the ache and told more white lies that only succeeded in covering up the problem, not fixing it. If he wanted to leave it at that she wouldn't blame him. Things were tough enough right now as it was.
In a flash of insight she recalled Tasuki's words about what Chichiri might be feeling under the concealment of the mask, and realized that they were probably both feeling the loss of their comfortable world. They'd been ripped from their tiny sanctuary and forced to open their eyes to the real world again, so perhaps they were simply dealing with the unpleasantness in different ways. "It's kinda hard right now," she began slowly, trying to put her thoughts to words. "This trip and everything it means. A part of me is glad we're getting it over with, and another part is really ticked off that it had to happen so soon. I really wanted to spend more time learning, and being with you…"
She risked a glance at him under her lashes to see the monk nodding silently to her sentiments. "I wanted to say sorry," she continued, feeling the words begin to tumble out of her in the effort to say everything before the moment was taken away. "For how I acted the other morning. I rarely lose my temper and I didn't even understand why I did until I was talking with Tasuki before. I was really hurt that he had come and made us remember that we were still preparing to fight something, when all I wanted to do was just stay happy and comfortable. It was understandable for me to be mad, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you guys like that."
After another drawn out pause, Chichiri rose from his spot and stepped lightly to the bare patch of dirt on her right side. Neither spoke while he sat down again, leaving them just a few inches from shoulders touching. Marissa would have thought that the close proximity might leave her speechless and flustered, but in fact she felt the opposite. Having him this close brought a level of comfort even better than the warmth of the fire, and she felt renewed at his nearby presence. Not the strength to speak though, that was still far coming with the man she admired with all her heart being so near. But she did feel comforted, and felt a glimpse of the hope she'd bottled up and corked tightly that they might go back to being friends.
"I'll forgive you," Chichiri intoned softly, his voice dropping in pitch despite the presence of the mask on his face. "If you'll forgive me first."
Marissa turned her head to the side and studied his profile openly. "For what?"
The tight press of his lips together made Marissa want to smile, but she kept the urge down and waited, wondering if he'd actually come out and admit it. Chichiri seemed like a man who lived for acceptance of the world around him, and even those existing outside of it. Yet secretly Marissa wondered what drove this situation to be any different. He was asking for forgiveness, not acceptance for his actions; the latter of which she would happily agree to if the true intentions behind this whole ordeal came out.
He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I was wrong to impose myself on you."
"I didn't mind."
His head did jerk around then, penciled eyes watching her with an expression of disbelief and curiosity. "How can you say that Mari? I forced myself on you, then led you on, and hurt you deeply, all because of..." He took a deep breath again and let it out quickly. "It doesn't matter. I must ask forgiveness of you for what I did, it wasn't right, either time."
Her hand somehow found its way out of the folds of blanket and onto the sleeve of his arm, where it rested against the coarse fabric as she made her appeal. "I think we're even. You kissed me, I kissed you, there's nothing to be sorry about, no matter what the reasons were behind them."
Chichiri sighed and looked back into the fire silently, her words swirling through his head before arranging themselves into their proper interpretation. When they settled he did take off his mask, long delicate fingers pulling away the paper to reveal an open eye staring into the fire. He felt the barest hint of a tremble against his bicep where her fingers rested, but her breathing continued to be steady and her hand remained where it was. "What was your reason?"
"Hope," she answered truthfully, and he felt the grip on his arm tighten imperceptibly. "I had hoped that maybe you were getting over... your past... and allowing yourself to be happy again."
"I don't deserve happiness," he bit out bluntly, surprised at his own vehemence.
"Don't say that, for god's sakes," she exclaimed, pulling back as though stung. "Why shouldn't you be happy? The fighting's over now and you don't have 7 other people to worry about protecting. Maybe you didn't die along with everyone else because you were being given a second chance to live, to find a life and be happy in it."
He shook his head resolutely, feeling frustration building up, though at her or himself he wasn't sure. "I have sinned terribly and Suzaku kept me alive simply to allow me to pay for my sins with the rest of my life. It's my duty to teach those about the mistakes their predecessors made, being a living reminder to them of what war does. If I have to spend the rest of my life living alone and repenting, then so be it."
Marissa blinked at Chichiri in disbelief. "How can you... what would make you think..."
He cut her off with a sharp turn of his head and pointed to the scar that lay
spread over his face. "This is my
sin. Until this scar goes away I will
always be repaying for my past. If only
you knew..." He shook his head and
turned back to the fire, upper lip curled slightly in self disgust.
"I do know," she breathed after a moment, and watched his shoulders suddenly freeze in the middle of an indrawn breath. "I've seen it all, and I don't care what you think. I still believe that you're a good person who deserves a second chance at life. It's been so hard for me, knowing how much you suffer and not being able to tell you the things I know, what I've seen of the future. So many things are going to hurt you, I've wanted to warn you and take you away from them at the same time. Even though it all works out ok it still pains me to see you beat yourself up for a sin that won't even exist in less than a year. But please believe me, that I care for you so much, more than I've ever cared for anyone..." She bowed her head at her final confession, loose tendrils of hair spilling over her shoulder.
Chichiri felt like the world had suddenly dropped out from underneath him, keeping him rooted to the spot while it still spun, leaving him dizzy and suddenly fatigued. She had known all this time about his past, every dirty bit and piece of it. His student, friend, and the woman he thought himself in love with. She knew, and he didn't know whether to feel elated or betrayed.
When he didn't speak for well over a minute she lifted her head and watched him quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I knew," she apologized, breaking the silence. "It was your secret to have and tell, not mine. I didn't want you to be angry with me if you found out I knew."
Chichiri's face was closed to her, but he did finally move, reaching up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shut his eye. "We should go to sleep." But the remark wasn't cold or forced, simply weary.
Marissa nodded her understanding and reached behind her to retrieve the bedroll she had been leaning against. She spread it out quickly a short distance from the fire, keeping her out of range of the gray smoke that might suddenly change direction without warning. As she settled on the mat her gaze fell on the monk who hadn't moved from his hunched position.
"Are you going to sleep?" she asked, suddenly feeling timid.
He shook his head, fingers unconsciously playing with the paper mask in his hands. "I'll keep watch for awhile then wake up Tasuki. Go to sleep. I'll be here."
She nodded her thanks and curled up on the firm padding, grateful for the absence of rocks and large twigs underneath. Just before falling asleep though she cursed herself for forgetting to ask the most important thing that had been nagging her. She'd never found out what his reasons for kissing her were.