A/N: Ok, this chapter has a bit of angst, plus, I reveal a shit-load
of stuff that went on during the Hokkan and Sairo trip, so I guess that
should be called spoilers, huh? Well, anyways, I've also changed my pen
name (didn't like Iseult 1 too much ^_^), so don't freak out when you see
that Tansho is by "Aama", OK? That's me! ^_^ Oh, and please read the A/N at
the end of the chapter for a personal note from me, OK? Enjoy!
Chapter 41
When He Returned To Me
I lie down in my bed, my head ringing with the sounds of the tavern below. I press my fingertips to my eyes, trying to rub away the headache that is beginning to form there, and this is why I do not see him when he creeps into my room as silently as a moth fluttering through my window. I hear him though, but I think he is one of the women at first, for I only hear the creak of the floorboards and don't bother to uncover my eyes to look and see who my intruder is. It is not until he gets close enough for me to smell the scent of his skin that I realize someone whom I haven't seen in a long time has entered my room. The other women smell of jasmine or pear blossom perfume. This person who is now hovering over me smells of the earth. I smell the forest all around me, just as I had smelled in my dream. And it is in that moment that I know he has come back to me.
I splay my fingers like a fan, opening them so that my eyes can see him. He stands over my bed silently, looking down at me with a peaceful yet anxious expression on his face. I let my hands falls from my face and reach them slowly out to him until I make contact with the front of his black overcoat. I sit up quickly and press my palms hard into his abdomen, testing him, proving to myself that his body is not an illusion. And when his stomach rises under my hands as he draws a deep breath, I recoil without meaning to and clutch my folded hands to my breasts. I stare up at him, stunned and overwhelmed. Dear gods. Tasuki is here. He is here. He is here.
He smiles lop-sided at me as he reaches his hands out cautiously, winding them gently around mine until I can feel the calluses of his palms. He lowers himself slowly to my bed until he's sitting beside me, still clutching my hands in his. He then brings them toward him, spreading them from their clenched shape until my fingers are once again splayed open and my palms are facing forward. I watch in amazement, my throat constricted with emotion and my brain drunken with the sight of him as he presses my palms to his face. During our short, passionate love affair he was always incredibly gentle and careful with me; but as he holds my hands tenderly to his face, letting me feel him for myself, letting me touch him again after so long, letting my body reawaken, he touches me as if I were a virgin who had never even felt the roughness of a man's skin. I suddenly realize that before now, our attraction to each other was an equal mixture of love and desire when I thought it was only lust that drew us together so passionately. I touch him, and even though my body longs to be united with him in every way, I have no desire whatsoever to make love with him. I just want to love him with my eyes and my hands and my voice, and I know that he wants to do the same now that we are finally together again. And although we both understand how coupling can bring together two people's souls in a way simple touch or conversation cannot, we also understand the power our two souls possess on their own-without our bodies. And although we both have experienced the physical and emotional pleasure of making love, and although we will no doubt eventually give in to the lust for each other that has been building inside of us during the time of our separation, we are content right now just as we are.
As we sit here side by side, simply touching each other with our hands, the adoration and devotion that once flowed between us is suddenly restored after three torturous months of separation. We lean into each other and kiss tenderly and gently, with only our lips pressing together. It is so chaste and pure that it almost seems ridiculous, but neither of us notices the simplicity of it. I feel him move his fingers greedily through my hair, and I cannot resist the urge to snake my own fingers over his ears and into the thickness of his fiery-orange hair. How I have missed the touch of his hair!
He gathers me to him and we lie down together on my bed, our faces so close that our cheeks are warmed with each other's breath. And for a long time, this is how we remain. Quiet, still, and pressed together as if coupling. But this is all we do-simply lie and revel in each other's presence as if we were the only two beings left in existence.
But even though he seems relieved to finally be with me again, I can't help but feel a deep sense of sorrow hanging around us. And it takes me several minutes of studying his features before I realize that something horrible and unexpected took place before he returned to Konan. I can tell by the soft frown lines between his eyes and the anxiety in his gaze that his return was abrupt and unplanned, and that the circumstances that led up to it have caused his almost mournful demeanor.
There is something very wrong. Actually, there are many things that are wrong. Suddenly uneasy and curious beyond belief, I untangle myself from him and sit up. His eyes follow me, and I understand that he knows I have sensed his emotions.
"Tasuki," I say, barely above a whisper, "What's wrong? What's happened?" I look at him softly, pleading with him silently to tell me-if not to appease my own worry, then to give him a chance to get whatever is causing him grief off his chest.
He instantly looks defeated, and I know that whatever happened while he and his friends were on their mission has taken its toll on him and scarred his heart forever. My own heart calls out for him, desperate to help mend and comfort him however I can. I lean into him and he more than willingly accepts me into his arms, holding me both carefully and furiously. He rolls onto his back and tucks my slender body into the hollow of his side, keeping my upper body wrapped in his embrace and resting on his chest. I curl my arms to my breasts, touching my hand to the area between them to feel the outline of the Seal of Suzaku. Simply touching it makes me remember the events of the previous night, and I'm suddenly aware of the subtle ache of my cheekbone and the soft stinging above my brow. Either my bruise and cut have disappeared or Tasuki simply hasn't noticed it yet.
He shifts, still wrestling with himself as to whether or not he's ready to fully confide in me. But I suppose it the soft curve of my hips so close to him and the scent of my hair that finally makes him relax into me. I move my face to his, touching my cheek to his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth softly. With every move of my body and touch of my skin, he seems to relax more and more, softening to me after so many months of having to harden himself for the sake of his comrades and his priestess. And soon, after many more long minutes of burdened silence, I whisper to him to tell me, and he finally does.
He starts at the beginning, just a few days after his and the other warriors departure, and tells me of their encounter with Soi, yet another member of their rival warriors. I listen intently as his eyes wander, somehow able to see the blinding flashes of lightening and hear the rumbling thunder deep in the clouds as the skies fill with the storm the lady warrior released upon them. I gasp softly when he tells me how he was swept off the ship, bringing back the memories of the dream I had the night when I saw him drowning alone in the darkness of the ocean. But, obviously, my dream was only partially true to reality. I silently thank the gods before berating him with how he should have told me he couldn't swim before leaving on a damned ship.
He then tells me about the courageous act of the young priestess, diving into the tumultuous ocean to try to save him when it turned out that she couldn't swim all that well either. And when I learn how Tamahome, Nuriko, and the priestess were separated from the group after Tasuki was able to get aboard the boat alive again, I feel my heart suddenly speed up almost as if I am there in his memories, watching my friends being swept away into the sea. But then he quickly explains how they were found and relates the battle with Soi that followed.
Their remaining journey to Hokkan was cut short by the opening of a passage caused by the vicious storm Soi had set loose on them. I was enthralled with the descriptions of the landscape he gave me-sheep, animals that I had only heard about, littered the green fields like oxen and horses do here in the south, and strange villages with people who had only rounded tents for homes. He told me about the family that had taken them in for the night, and the old man who had told them the riveting story of the Priestess of Genbu, a girl that came from the world of our own priestess nearly two hundred years earlier.
So there were other priestesses? Of course there must be; there were four great empires, with four beast gods, therefore there must be four priestesses. And according to Tasuki, two are here now-the priestess of Suzaku, and her rival, the priestess of Seiryu. But what of the one I haven't yet heard about, the girl who became priestess for the western empire of Sairo?
I don't have long to think about this, for Tasuki has soon gone into descriptions of the Hokkan capital city. He tells me how Nuriko cut his beautiful long purple hair off, and how the sky opened up and snow suddenly began to fall. Once again, I'm fascinated by the description of something I have never seen before. I curl myself into my lover and ask him to tell me everything he could remember about the snow-the way it felt on his skin, its taste, its smell. He smiles again, closing his eyes to try to bring back his memories, and describes the way the flakes swirled in the air around him, the cool, refreshing scent the breeze took on, and the tingling sensation of the tiny white flakes when they would fall on his cheeks.
And then the soft smile on his face fades away into a solemn expression so regretful and full of mourning that I can't help but gaze at him in compassion. I sit up again, knowing that what he is about to tell me is one of the many things that made his demeanor so somber when he returned to me. I look down at him and gently place my hand on his chest, pressing my palm down into the dark fabric of his overcoat until I can feel the deep pulse of his heart beneath his ribs. I feel his longing to tell me his sorrows just as I feel his beating heart.
"Please," I whisper, trying to console him with the softness of my voice, "You need to tell me, Tasuki."
He doesn't reply to that; he already knows it just as I do. He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles.
"Come here, Tansho," he says to me, opening his arms and beckoning to me to lie in them again, "I have sad news."
My heart sinks low into my chest until I'm sure it's among my bowels. I draw in a ragged breath and slowly release it as I lower myself into his embrace again, nearly on the verge of terror. Is our priestess dead? Is Konan doomed? The questions tangle together inside my head ruthlessly.
But instead of telling me the sad news, he continues on with his story, no doubt shortening it somewhat. In a matter of a few minutes, I hear the adventures of Hokkan and Sairo--Nuriko's defeat of Ashitare, the discovery and loss of the Genbu shinzaho, the journey to Sairo and the unbelievable events that followed after their arrival. When he tells me about his unusual stay in the desert and how his mind had been stolen from reality, I'm once again disturbed by its eerie resemblance to my dream. Refusing to allow my mind to make assumptions, I listen closely as he recounts the numerous battles for the life of the priestess, the appearance of two Byakko warriors, the discovery and loss of the Byakko shinzaho. When he finally reveals the sorrowful story of the Priestess of Byakko that I have been longing to hear, my heart clenches in my chest. To be separated from the one you love for so long seems utterly impossible to me. But it is the telling of the magnificent and frightening summoning of the beast god Seiryu that makes my skin turn cold. I am overwhelmed by the time he becomes silent again, my mind a rolling ocean of thoughts, images, words, and fears. But what has caused him so much grief? What has he failed to tell me?
His arm tightens around my shoulders, and I realize that he has saved the saddest words for last. My eyes gaze upwards to look at him, unsure and anxious. And the way he returns my gaze makes me cringe.
"Chiriko died in Sairo, Tansho. He sacrificed himself to save us."
The words sting me like a scorpion. No. No-not the little boy! He was only a child, barely on the verge of becoming a man. How could a child as small as he was have the courage to sacrifice himself for the sake of his companions? I close my eyes to keep from weeping. I barely knew Chiriko; I spoke maybe a few sentences with him, and yet my heart aches for him as if he had been my own son. Poor Tasuki. How he must have grieved for the little boy. Once again, I'm taken aback by the mysterious similarity between his journey and my dream. I had seen him crouched over the body of a child; could that child have been Chiriko? Was Tasuki sobbing so pitifully for his death? Still refusing to admit to anything, I pull myself tighter to his body, hoping that my presence may be able to comfort him.
I am unprepared for what he tells me next.
"And-Nuriko was killed in the battle with Ashitare. We buried him on a mountain in Hokkan."
My eyes crack open, but do not see anything. I stare blindly and dumbly into nothingness. No. No. My mind repeats this over again and again as if it were a chant. Nuriko, as well as the child? I heave a deep, painful sigh as my heart cracks in two-split down the middle by the news of Chiriko's death, and entirely broken apart by the news of Nuriko's. I barely knew him as well, but his kindness towards me was something I could never have forgotten. And now hearing the news of his death, I can't help but grieve for a friend.
Suddenly, I hear Tasuki's tortured sigh and feel wetness on my forehead. I lean back and gaze at my beloved warrior-who is weeping so woefully that I feel my own tears well up in my eyes. Streams of tears trail thickly down his tanned face, and he merely stares into the emptiness of my room, his eyes blind to everything. I move to cover him with my body, pressing my soft breasts to his chest and my forehead to his. And as he weeps unabashedly, I begin to weep as well, unable to keep my emotions in check. The news of my friends' deaths and the mere sight of seeing my beloved man trembling in sorrow beneath me is enough to wound my soul forever. He grips me to him, holding onto me as if I were his one comfort in this world, and I am more than willing to let the touch of my skin console him. I reach out to him with my thoughts, telling him how much I adore him and how I promise to never leave his side again.
So my dreams were true then. It would be pointless and foolish to try to deny that they weren't. Is it possible that my mind connected with his even though an ocean and two empires separated us? I dreamt of his near-death in the sea, his enchantment in the desert, his deep grieving for Nuriko and Chiriko. Is it possible that his soul called out for mine at those times? Did he long for me at those times?
We weep together for a long time, holding each other and being comforted by each other's presence. I wish I could do more for him, but when I finally hear the sounds of his mourning trail into silence, I understand that by simply allowing myself to be his comfort, I have done more for him that I know. He takes a deep breath as if to cleanse himself of his sadness for a few moments and I am glad to hear the rhythm of his breath return to normal.
"I thought of you, Tansho," he whispers to me, "I thought of you all the time." I smile gently. The irony is almost supernatural.
"I thought of you, too."
It seems that he has told all there is to tell. His travels have ended and he is with me again. He is in mourning for his lost friends and fellow warriors, but time heals easily and efficiently. We will leave this place soon and go home, on the mountain, away from the stink and the noise of the city. I mold myself happily into his arms, but instead of relaxing with me, I feel his muscles tense. Once again, I do not expect what he tells me next.
"Tansho, that's not the end of the bad news," he replies softly, his voice hesitant and unsure of itself after so much mourning.
I sit up again, almost unbelieving. Impossible! What else could have happened on that damned mission? It already seems as if his entire world has collapsed on top of him-and me as well. He sits up from his reclined position as well, flustered by my unexpected action. He runs his hand down the length of my arm to try to calm me before continuing.
"After Seiryu was summoned and we returned to Konan, Suzaku was sealed away from us," he replies calmly, hoping to ease my shock. I look at him, noticing that his eyes are slightly red from crying, but I can see only determination set in his features. Yes, something has happened that will change the course of events from now on-not only for the two of us, but for all of Konan as well. I can feel it as plainly as I feel his hand still mindlessly caressing the sensitive skin at the inside of my elbow. "And because of this, the surviving warriors, myself included, have lost their marks as celestial warriors--as well as our powers."
Shocked, I jerk unintentionally from his gentle grasp and grab his arm, pulling the black sleeve of his overcoat up to his elbow. I do the same to the white undershirt beneath. His forearm is bare. Even when he was calm and his mark wasn't ignited by his anger (or his passion, in our case), the place where his character appeared could always be identified by a slight discoloration of his skin, like an old scar. But the skin of his arm is as smooth and perfect as the skin of his face. I stare in disbelief for several long moments. It's true. He is no longer a warrior of Suzaku. He's a man. A normal man just as I am a normal woman.
My disbelieving gaze trails upward to meet his eyes. I am unable to offer any words to him, whether they be questions or condolences. I only look at him as if I myself have been defeated. But I am wrong to think that this is all he has left to tell me. I nearly fall senseless into his arms when he reveals to me the last of his ill news.
"Konan has declared war on Kutou. The others and I must leave the day after tomorrow to go to battle," he says quietly, almost as if he doesn't want me to hear the words.
I feel myself losing control over my body, but I am somehow able to keep myself from collapsing into his embrace. Instead, I allow my head to drop clumsily into the palms of my waiting hands, where it rests heavily. Dear gods, no. Not again. Not again. No.
Even when he moves closer to me to wrap his arms around my shoulders and pull me into his lap like a child, I am unable to be comforted. I cannot cry. I have cried all that my proud spirit will allow me to. No, it is over now. It is finished. I have lived for as long as the gods have ordained me to. I might not have lived well, but I have lived. I have had the great honor of knowing this gentle, courageous, passionate man who now rocks me carefully in his arms like a mother would do to her baby. And that is the last thing I plan to do. He is leaving me again to do his duty as a warrior of his priestess and god and as a citizen of his country. And although it pains me to think of it, he will no doubt give his life for those who will live on after him. I will not try to stop him, for I have no right. He was a celestial warrior and a man of Konan long before he fell in love with me. He will go, and I will stay here once again. But, unfortunately, there is nothing left for me here. My dearest friends are well protected by the emperor's decree and I will leave with them his seal as well. And then I will lie down in my bed and go to sleep forever with the help of opium, as much as I can buy in the dark streets of the capital. What happens afterward is little of my concern, for I will be in the company of those who came before me. My mother. I smile in spite of myself. Yes, it will be nice to see her again after so long.
I am lost in my dark yet comforting thoughts and do not hear Tasuki's next words. How ironic that they will change the plans I have for myself so drastically.
"Tansho," he whispers again, seeing that I didn't hear him before. I am jolted from the depths of my mind by the sound of his powerful voice. I turn my face to him and instantly wonder why a slight smile is spread across his features. What in hell is there to smile about? He smiles wider when he sees the mixed expression of confusion and indignation on my face. "Tansho," he repeats, "Didn't you hear me? I said that I'm taking you away from here. You're coming back to the palace with me to stay until the war is over. You, and the other women, as well."
Realization hits me like lightening from the sky, jolting me from the dreary thoughts I had been thinking just moments earlier. I slowly sit up straight in his lap, motionless and shocked to the point that I am unable to speak. He smiles and kisses me on the cheek, hoping to wake me from my comatose state. In a way, his kiss does bring part of me back to life. I find the strength to move and lift my hands to cradle his face in my palms.
"Aren't you happy?" he asks, still smiling like a little boy. "You'll be totally safe there. And you'll have Koi and Okichi and the others for company. And, when I come back, we'll leave for Mount Reikaku as soon as possible. Nothing will stop us."
"Shingen." I don't even realize that I have spoken that horrid name until the acidic aftertaste of it begins to burn my tongue.
Tasuki's smile transforms from gleeful to triumphant in a matter of seconds. "I already have a signed decree from His Highness declaring your freedom from Shingen, as well as the release of the others from his employment if they wish to accompany you."
It has all been taken care of. Everything that will ensure that my life will continue on in complete comfort and care has been written and signed by the emperor himself. And Tasuki has overseen it all. Even the release of the other women. Everything.
It is far too much or me to take, but I am still somehow able to lean my body into his and lay a soft, gentle kiss on his lips in return for all that my beloved has done for me. My kiss is my thanks to him for loving me and for saving my life. And when he smiles and embraces me as if I were about to vanish into nothingness, I know with all my heart that it is beyond enough.
A/N: Well, look's like some major things are about to happen, huh? ^_^ It's about time that Tansho and the other ladies get a break, don't ya think? Well, I hate to say this, but it might be awhile before I can post the next chapter. I'm getting ready to move out of my parents' house and into my new lake house. And the "week of welcome" at my college is gonna keep me busy as hell (plus I'm gonna have to start looking for a job). And then, the week after that I'm starting classes! ^_^ So, as you can see, I'm ass-hole deep in stuff I've gotta do right now. I do promise, however that I'll get the next chapter up as soon as humanly possible!! ^_^ OK?! See ya all later.
Oh, and please do forgive me for not replying to your reviews! I'm so sorry but I just couldn't find time to sit down and re-read and answer them. I'm so sorry! But thankyou so much for them, guys! I love you all!
Chapter 41
When He Returned To Me
I lie down in my bed, my head ringing with the sounds of the tavern below. I press my fingertips to my eyes, trying to rub away the headache that is beginning to form there, and this is why I do not see him when he creeps into my room as silently as a moth fluttering through my window. I hear him though, but I think he is one of the women at first, for I only hear the creak of the floorboards and don't bother to uncover my eyes to look and see who my intruder is. It is not until he gets close enough for me to smell the scent of his skin that I realize someone whom I haven't seen in a long time has entered my room. The other women smell of jasmine or pear blossom perfume. This person who is now hovering over me smells of the earth. I smell the forest all around me, just as I had smelled in my dream. And it is in that moment that I know he has come back to me.
I splay my fingers like a fan, opening them so that my eyes can see him. He stands over my bed silently, looking down at me with a peaceful yet anxious expression on his face. I let my hands falls from my face and reach them slowly out to him until I make contact with the front of his black overcoat. I sit up quickly and press my palms hard into his abdomen, testing him, proving to myself that his body is not an illusion. And when his stomach rises under my hands as he draws a deep breath, I recoil without meaning to and clutch my folded hands to my breasts. I stare up at him, stunned and overwhelmed. Dear gods. Tasuki is here. He is here. He is here.
He smiles lop-sided at me as he reaches his hands out cautiously, winding them gently around mine until I can feel the calluses of his palms. He lowers himself slowly to my bed until he's sitting beside me, still clutching my hands in his. He then brings them toward him, spreading them from their clenched shape until my fingers are once again splayed open and my palms are facing forward. I watch in amazement, my throat constricted with emotion and my brain drunken with the sight of him as he presses my palms to his face. During our short, passionate love affair he was always incredibly gentle and careful with me; but as he holds my hands tenderly to his face, letting me feel him for myself, letting me touch him again after so long, letting my body reawaken, he touches me as if I were a virgin who had never even felt the roughness of a man's skin. I suddenly realize that before now, our attraction to each other was an equal mixture of love and desire when I thought it was only lust that drew us together so passionately. I touch him, and even though my body longs to be united with him in every way, I have no desire whatsoever to make love with him. I just want to love him with my eyes and my hands and my voice, and I know that he wants to do the same now that we are finally together again. And although we both understand how coupling can bring together two people's souls in a way simple touch or conversation cannot, we also understand the power our two souls possess on their own-without our bodies. And although we both have experienced the physical and emotional pleasure of making love, and although we will no doubt eventually give in to the lust for each other that has been building inside of us during the time of our separation, we are content right now just as we are.
As we sit here side by side, simply touching each other with our hands, the adoration and devotion that once flowed between us is suddenly restored after three torturous months of separation. We lean into each other and kiss tenderly and gently, with only our lips pressing together. It is so chaste and pure that it almost seems ridiculous, but neither of us notices the simplicity of it. I feel him move his fingers greedily through my hair, and I cannot resist the urge to snake my own fingers over his ears and into the thickness of his fiery-orange hair. How I have missed the touch of his hair!
He gathers me to him and we lie down together on my bed, our faces so close that our cheeks are warmed with each other's breath. And for a long time, this is how we remain. Quiet, still, and pressed together as if coupling. But this is all we do-simply lie and revel in each other's presence as if we were the only two beings left in existence.
But even though he seems relieved to finally be with me again, I can't help but feel a deep sense of sorrow hanging around us. And it takes me several minutes of studying his features before I realize that something horrible and unexpected took place before he returned to Konan. I can tell by the soft frown lines between his eyes and the anxiety in his gaze that his return was abrupt and unplanned, and that the circumstances that led up to it have caused his almost mournful demeanor.
There is something very wrong. Actually, there are many things that are wrong. Suddenly uneasy and curious beyond belief, I untangle myself from him and sit up. His eyes follow me, and I understand that he knows I have sensed his emotions.
"Tasuki," I say, barely above a whisper, "What's wrong? What's happened?" I look at him softly, pleading with him silently to tell me-if not to appease my own worry, then to give him a chance to get whatever is causing him grief off his chest.
He instantly looks defeated, and I know that whatever happened while he and his friends were on their mission has taken its toll on him and scarred his heart forever. My own heart calls out for him, desperate to help mend and comfort him however I can. I lean into him and he more than willingly accepts me into his arms, holding me both carefully and furiously. He rolls onto his back and tucks my slender body into the hollow of his side, keeping my upper body wrapped in his embrace and resting on his chest. I curl my arms to my breasts, touching my hand to the area between them to feel the outline of the Seal of Suzaku. Simply touching it makes me remember the events of the previous night, and I'm suddenly aware of the subtle ache of my cheekbone and the soft stinging above my brow. Either my bruise and cut have disappeared or Tasuki simply hasn't noticed it yet.
He shifts, still wrestling with himself as to whether or not he's ready to fully confide in me. But I suppose it the soft curve of my hips so close to him and the scent of my hair that finally makes him relax into me. I move my face to his, touching my cheek to his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth softly. With every move of my body and touch of my skin, he seems to relax more and more, softening to me after so many months of having to harden himself for the sake of his comrades and his priestess. And soon, after many more long minutes of burdened silence, I whisper to him to tell me, and he finally does.
He starts at the beginning, just a few days after his and the other warriors departure, and tells me of their encounter with Soi, yet another member of their rival warriors. I listen intently as his eyes wander, somehow able to see the blinding flashes of lightening and hear the rumbling thunder deep in the clouds as the skies fill with the storm the lady warrior released upon them. I gasp softly when he tells me how he was swept off the ship, bringing back the memories of the dream I had the night when I saw him drowning alone in the darkness of the ocean. But, obviously, my dream was only partially true to reality. I silently thank the gods before berating him with how he should have told me he couldn't swim before leaving on a damned ship.
He then tells me about the courageous act of the young priestess, diving into the tumultuous ocean to try to save him when it turned out that she couldn't swim all that well either. And when I learn how Tamahome, Nuriko, and the priestess were separated from the group after Tasuki was able to get aboard the boat alive again, I feel my heart suddenly speed up almost as if I am there in his memories, watching my friends being swept away into the sea. But then he quickly explains how they were found and relates the battle with Soi that followed.
Their remaining journey to Hokkan was cut short by the opening of a passage caused by the vicious storm Soi had set loose on them. I was enthralled with the descriptions of the landscape he gave me-sheep, animals that I had only heard about, littered the green fields like oxen and horses do here in the south, and strange villages with people who had only rounded tents for homes. He told me about the family that had taken them in for the night, and the old man who had told them the riveting story of the Priestess of Genbu, a girl that came from the world of our own priestess nearly two hundred years earlier.
So there were other priestesses? Of course there must be; there were four great empires, with four beast gods, therefore there must be four priestesses. And according to Tasuki, two are here now-the priestess of Suzaku, and her rival, the priestess of Seiryu. But what of the one I haven't yet heard about, the girl who became priestess for the western empire of Sairo?
I don't have long to think about this, for Tasuki has soon gone into descriptions of the Hokkan capital city. He tells me how Nuriko cut his beautiful long purple hair off, and how the sky opened up and snow suddenly began to fall. Once again, I'm fascinated by the description of something I have never seen before. I curl myself into my lover and ask him to tell me everything he could remember about the snow-the way it felt on his skin, its taste, its smell. He smiles again, closing his eyes to try to bring back his memories, and describes the way the flakes swirled in the air around him, the cool, refreshing scent the breeze took on, and the tingling sensation of the tiny white flakes when they would fall on his cheeks.
And then the soft smile on his face fades away into a solemn expression so regretful and full of mourning that I can't help but gaze at him in compassion. I sit up again, knowing that what he is about to tell me is one of the many things that made his demeanor so somber when he returned to me. I look down at him and gently place my hand on his chest, pressing my palm down into the dark fabric of his overcoat until I can feel the deep pulse of his heart beneath his ribs. I feel his longing to tell me his sorrows just as I feel his beating heart.
"Please," I whisper, trying to console him with the softness of my voice, "You need to tell me, Tasuki."
He doesn't reply to that; he already knows it just as I do. He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles.
"Come here, Tansho," he says to me, opening his arms and beckoning to me to lie in them again, "I have sad news."
My heart sinks low into my chest until I'm sure it's among my bowels. I draw in a ragged breath and slowly release it as I lower myself into his embrace again, nearly on the verge of terror. Is our priestess dead? Is Konan doomed? The questions tangle together inside my head ruthlessly.
But instead of telling me the sad news, he continues on with his story, no doubt shortening it somewhat. In a matter of a few minutes, I hear the adventures of Hokkan and Sairo--Nuriko's defeat of Ashitare, the discovery and loss of the Genbu shinzaho, the journey to Sairo and the unbelievable events that followed after their arrival. When he tells me about his unusual stay in the desert and how his mind had been stolen from reality, I'm once again disturbed by its eerie resemblance to my dream. Refusing to allow my mind to make assumptions, I listen closely as he recounts the numerous battles for the life of the priestess, the appearance of two Byakko warriors, the discovery and loss of the Byakko shinzaho. When he finally reveals the sorrowful story of the Priestess of Byakko that I have been longing to hear, my heart clenches in my chest. To be separated from the one you love for so long seems utterly impossible to me. But it is the telling of the magnificent and frightening summoning of the beast god Seiryu that makes my skin turn cold. I am overwhelmed by the time he becomes silent again, my mind a rolling ocean of thoughts, images, words, and fears. But what has caused him so much grief? What has he failed to tell me?
His arm tightens around my shoulders, and I realize that he has saved the saddest words for last. My eyes gaze upwards to look at him, unsure and anxious. And the way he returns my gaze makes me cringe.
"Chiriko died in Sairo, Tansho. He sacrificed himself to save us."
The words sting me like a scorpion. No. No-not the little boy! He was only a child, barely on the verge of becoming a man. How could a child as small as he was have the courage to sacrifice himself for the sake of his companions? I close my eyes to keep from weeping. I barely knew Chiriko; I spoke maybe a few sentences with him, and yet my heart aches for him as if he had been my own son. Poor Tasuki. How he must have grieved for the little boy. Once again, I'm taken aback by the mysterious similarity between his journey and my dream. I had seen him crouched over the body of a child; could that child have been Chiriko? Was Tasuki sobbing so pitifully for his death? Still refusing to admit to anything, I pull myself tighter to his body, hoping that my presence may be able to comfort him.
I am unprepared for what he tells me next.
"And-Nuriko was killed in the battle with Ashitare. We buried him on a mountain in Hokkan."
My eyes crack open, but do not see anything. I stare blindly and dumbly into nothingness. No. No. My mind repeats this over again and again as if it were a chant. Nuriko, as well as the child? I heave a deep, painful sigh as my heart cracks in two-split down the middle by the news of Chiriko's death, and entirely broken apart by the news of Nuriko's. I barely knew him as well, but his kindness towards me was something I could never have forgotten. And now hearing the news of his death, I can't help but grieve for a friend.
Suddenly, I hear Tasuki's tortured sigh and feel wetness on my forehead. I lean back and gaze at my beloved warrior-who is weeping so woefully that I feel my own tears well up in my eyes. Streams of tears trail thickly down his tanned face, and he merely stares into the emptiness of my room, his eyes blind to everything. I move to cover him with my body, pressing my soft breasts to his chest and my forehead to his. And as he weeps unabashedly, I begin to weep as well, unable to keep my emotions in check. The news of my friends' deaths and the mere sight of seeing my beloved man trembling in sorrow beneath me is enough to wound my soul forever. He grips me to him, holding onto me as if I were his one comfort in this world, and I am more than willing to let the touch of my skin console him. I reach out to him with my thoughts, telling him how much I adore him and how I promise to never leave his side again.
So my dreams were true then. It would be pointless and foolish to try to deny that they weren't. Is it possible that my mind connected with his even though an ocean and two empires separated us? I dreamt of his near-death in the sea, his enchantment in the desert, his deep grieving for Nuriko and Chiriko. Is it possible that his soul called out for mine at those times? Did he long for me at those times?
We weep together for a long time, holding each other and being comforted by each other's presence. I wish I could do more for him, but when I finally hear the sounds of his mourning trail into silence, I understand that by simply allowing myself to be his comfort, I have done more for him that I know. He takes a deep breath as if to cleanse himself of his sadness for a few moments and I am glad to hear the rhythm of his breath return to normal.
"I thought of you, Tansho," he whispers to me, "I thought of you all the time." I smile gently. The irony is almost supernatural.
"I thought of you, too."
It seems that he has told all there is to tell. His travels have ended and he is with me again. He is in mourning for his lost friends and fellow warriors, but time heals easily and efficiently. We will leave this place soon and go home, on the mountain, away from the stink and the noise of the city. I mold myself happily into his arms, but instead of relaxing with me, I feel his muscles tense. Once again, I do not expect what he tells me next.
"Tansho, that's not the end of the bad news," he replies softly, his voice hesitant and unsure of itself after so much mourning.
I sit up again, almost unbelieving. Impossible! What else could have happened on that damned mission? It already seems as if his entire world has collapsed on top of him-and me as well. He sits up from his reclined position as well, flustered by my unexpected action. He runs his hand down the length of my arm to try to calm me before continuing.
"After Seiryu was summoned and we returned to Konan, Suzaku was sealed away from us," he replies calmly, hoping to ease my shock. I look at him, noticing that his eyes are slightly red from crying, but I can see only determination set in his features. Yes, something has happened that will change the course of events from now on-not only for the two of us, but for all of Konan as well. I can feel it as plainly as I feel his hand still mindlessly caressing the sensitive skin at the inside of my elbow. "And because of this, the surviving warriors, myself included, have lost their marks as celestial warriors--as well as our powers."
Shocked, I jerk unintentionally from his gentle grasp and grab his arm, pulling the black sleeve of his overcoat up to his elbow. I do the same to the white undershirt beneath. His forearm is bare. Even when he was calm and his mark wasn't ignited by his anger (or his passion, in our case), the place where his character appeared could always be identified by a slight discoloration of his skin, like an old scar. But the skin of his arm is as smooth and perfect as the skin of his face. I stare in disbelief for several long moments. It's true. He is no longer a warrior of Suzaku. He's a man. A normal man just as I am a normal woman.
My disbelieving gaze trails upward to meet his eyes. I am unable to offer any words to him, whether they be questions or condolences. I only look at him as if I myself have been defeated. But I am wrong to think that this is all he has left to tell me. I nearly fall senseless into his arms when he reveals to me the last of his ill news.
"Konan has declared war on Kutou. The others and I must leave the day after tomorrow to go to battle," he says quietly, almost as if he doesn't want me to hear the words.
I feel myself losing control over my body, but I am somehow able to keep myself from collapsing into his embrace. Instead, I allow my head to drop clumsily into the palms of my waiting hands, where it rests heavily. Dear gods, no. Not again. Not again. No.
Even when he moves closer to me to wrap his arms around my shoulders and pull me into his lap like a child, I am unable to be comforted. I cannot cry. I have cried all that my proud spirit will allow me to. No, it is over now. It is finished. I have lived for as long as the gods have ordained me to. I might not have lived well, but I have lived. I have had the great honor of knowing this gentle, courageous, passionate man who now rocks me carefully in his arms like a mother would do to her baby. And that is the last thing I plan to do. He is leaving me again to do his duty as a warrior of his priestess and god and as a citizen of his country. And although it pains me to think of it, he will no doubt give his life for those who will live on after him. I will not try to stop him, for I have no right. He was a celestial warrior and a man of Konan long before he fell in love with me. He will go, and I will stay here once again. But, unfortunately, there is nothing left for me here. My dearest friends are well protected by the emperor's decree and I will leave with them his seal as well. And then I will lie down in my bed and go to sleep forever with the help of opium, as much as I can buy in the dark streets of the capital. What happens afterward is little of my concern, for I will be in the company of those who came before me. My mother. I smile in spite of myself. Yes, it will be nice to see her again after so long.
I am lost in my dark yet comforting thoughts and do not hear Tasuki's next words. How ironic that they will change the plans I have for myself so drastically.
"Tansho," he whispers again, seeing that I didn't hear him before. I am jolted from the depths of my mind by the sound of his powerful voice. I turn my face to him and instantly wonder why a slight smile is spread across his features. What in hell is there to smile about? He smiles wider when he sees the mixed expression of confusion and indignation on my face. "Tansho," he repeats, "Didn't you hear me? I said that I'm taking you away from here. You're coming back to the palace with me to stay until the war is over. You, and the other women, as well."
Realization hits me like lightening from the sky, jolting me from the dreary thoughts I had been thinking just moments earlier. I slowly sit up straight in his lap, motionless and shocked to the point that I am unable to speak. He smiles and kisses me on the cheek, hoping to wake me from my comatose state. In a way, his kiss does bring part of me back to life. I find the strength to move and lift my hands to cradle his face in my palms.
"Aren't you happy?" he asks, still smiling like a little boy. "You'll be totally safe there. And you'll have Koi and Okichi and the others for company. And, when I come back, we'll leave for Mount Reikaku as soon as possible. Nothing will stop us."
"Shingen." I don't even realize that I have spoken that horrid name until the acidic aftertaste of it begins to burn my tongue.
Tasuki's smile transforms from gleeful to triumphant in a matter of seconds. "I already have a signed decree from His Highness declaring your freedom from Shingen, as well as the release of the others from his employment if they wish to accompany you."
It has all been taken care of. Everything that will ensure that my life will continue on in complete comfort and care has been written and signed by the emperor himself. And Tasuki has overseen it all. Even the release of the other women. Everything.
It is far too much or me to take, but I am still somehow able to lean my body into his and lay a soft, gentle kiss on his lips in return for all that my beloved has done for me. My kiss is my thanks to him for loving me and for saving my life. And when he smiles and embraces me as if I were about to vanish into nothingness, I know with all my heart that it is beyond enough.
A/N: Well, look's like some major things are about to happen, huh? ^_^ It's about time that Tansho and the other ladies get a break, don't ya think? Well, I hate to say this, but it might be awhile before I can post the next chapter. I'm getting ready to move out of my parents' house and into my new lake house. And the "week of welcome" at my college is gonna keep me busy as hell (plus I'm gonna have to start looking for a job). And then, the week after that I'm starting classes! ^_^ So, as you can see, I'm ass-hole deep in stuff I've gotta do right now. I do promise, however that I'll get the next chapter up as soon as humanly possible!! ^_^ OK?! See ya all later.
Oh, and please do forgive me for not replying to your reviews! I'm so sorry but I just couldn't find time to sit down and re-read and answer them. I'm so sorry! But thankyou so much for them, guys! I love you all!