A/N: Hey all, so sorry that this update took nearly a month! But since I've
been out of school I've had to juggle work and writing and a lot more than
I expected, so thanks for being patient! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 63
My Own Heart
I awake one morning and feel an irresistible urge to see the ocean. Although I know that I should take the time to dress properly for the biting cold of the winter weather, I opt to simply pull my fox fur-lined coat on over my nightdress and a pair of slippers on my feet. When I step outside my door, I see that the night is still clinging on although I expected it to already be dawn. The eastern edge of the sky has yet to redden with the rising sun. Slowly, I stroll toward the palace docks, following nothing but my urge to look at the sea.
When I reach the docks, I descend the wooden stairs that lead to the beach and take off my slippers before stepping out onto the cool sand. My slippers dangling from my fingers, my feet buried in the thick sand, I walk down to the shoreline and watch as the water flows upwards toward me as if it's trying to reach out and touch me. But knowing better not to allow my feet to get wet, I stay well out of its reach.
I am there on the beach, staring out into dark sea, when the sun begins to rise. It is a slow, beautiful process, beginning with the lightening of the eastern sky where it touches the water, followed by the vibrant colors of the sunrise. Yellow, orange, pink, and red begin to blend together in the sky and on the ocean, each reflecting off the other. And as the red sun ascends above the dark waves, I feel the air around me change. An oddly comfortable heaviness presses upon me, and I feel as if I know this sensation. It is familiar as much as it is strange. And then I catch the scent of something that makes me open my mouth and inhale deeply, happily. I know that aroma. I know these feelings. Breathing heavily and feeling oddly happy, I sit down on a nearby stone and watch the remainder of the sunrise, my mind wondering what in hell is happening to me. I continue sitting well into the morning, simply staring off into the sea, watching the waves rise and fall and surge. And then I realize that this day is going to be very different. That is what I felt in the air; that is what I smelled. I've forgotten how I can sense these odd things.
Smiling, I rise from the stone and leave the sea behind me.
All day, I wait for the wonderful thing to happen -- the thing I felt coming while I was on the beach, the thing heralded by the comforting heaviness and the sweet scent rising on the air. I wait for it and I wait for it. But it does not come. Finally, I give up the wait and change from my day clothes into a cotton sleeping dress and curl myself into the soft linens of my bed. There is a strange mixture of emotions flowing throughout me. I feel disappointment, confusion, anxiety, curiosity. What did I feel this morning on the beach? Am I going mad? Baffled and uncomfortable, I somehow manage to drift off to sleep.
I don't know how much of the night passes before I feel his hand on my skin. He touches me carefully and with great tenderness, as if he wants to wake me and yet doesn't want to. But he pushes me from my sleep nonetheless, and when I open my eyes, he is there beside me. It is still nighttime, and without the light from my hearth or the small oil lamp at my bedside, I can see very little of him save for the smoky silhouette of his body created by the moonlight shining through my window. But that is enough. That is enough for me.
"Hey," he whispers.
"Hey," I whisper back, smiling softly.
He leans over me, bringing our faces closer together. I can see his eyes and mouth, both gleaming in the brilliance of the moonlight. The dark green of his irises shimmers as the golden flecks within them catch the light, and one corner of his mouth lifts devilishly. I close my eyes happily and lift my hand up, intending to touch his face. But his hand intercepts my own and his fingers entwine themselves with mine, pressing our palms tightly together.
"I'm here," he says, his voice sliding across the air and into me.
"I know," I answer, "I felt you coming."
He only smiles at me, his beautiful, true smile, and lifts my hand to his face. He presses the back of my hand gently to his cheek and I can hear him breathe in the scent of the perfume clinging to the back of my wrist. I hear him inhale deeply, then release, then inhale again, as if he cannot breathe in enough of me.
"Do you know that I was only in Miaka's world for less than a day?" he asks, his nose still pressed to my skin, "How long have I been gone in this world?"
"Nearly three weeks," I answer, adoring the sensation of his fingers between mine. "Too long."
"Too long," he repeats softly, finally taking his nose away from my wrist and kissing it in return. His lips slide across the tendons on the back of my hand, rising on the small mountains of my knuckles, and down the tops of my slender fingers. When his mouth reaches my fingertips, he kisses them as well, then turns my hand over slowly in his and nestles his cheek deep within the warmth of my palm. I take the chance to seize him, and with a gentle motion, I have slipped my hand behind his head and tugged him back down to my level.
"Come here," I whisper, pulling him to me.
He removes his black overcoat and boots and slides into the soft linens beside me. I scoot my body closer to his until my belly is pressed firmly to his and I can feel the thump of his heart on my breasts. I lift my other hand and cradle his face in both my palms as he wraps his hands lovingly around my wrists. Beneath the linens, our legs overlap each other, making us both grin. We are so close that I can see my reflection in the darkness of his lovely eyes. I am shining in his gaze as if I am made of silver. Slowly, I close my eyes so that I can only feel the rough softness of his hands and smell the earthy, salty scent of his skin. And as I feel him and smell him here with me, I fight the urge to weep. I desire more than I anything to let myself weep from happiness and gratefulness and relief. But I resist, knowing that my days of crying are over with, whether they be happy days or sorrowful days.
I open my eyes again, expecting to see my reflection still shining beautifully in his gaze. But I don't. My husband's eyes are closed, and the smooth, even breath that flow from his parted lips tells me that he has fallen asleep. Smiling, I move myself even closer to him, giving him the warmth of my body. I release his face from my gentle hands in order to pull the linens higher, then Icurl my arms between our bodies, his fingers still lightly clenching my wrists. I rest my face close to his and brush my lips softly across his forehead before closing my eyes again and returning to sleep.
I awake with a sigh of relief, because the moment I leave my sleep, I immediately feel my husband next to me. Sometime during the night he rolled from his side onto his back, taking me with him partially. His hands still hold my wrists gently in their grasp, pressing my own hands upon his chest, into his heart. I lie still for a long while and watch Tasuki continue to sleep. I watch as his eyelids flutter. I watch as my hands rise and fall with the motion of his chest, and I feel the soft thunder of his heart deep within him. It is a comforting, mesmerizing sensation to feel the heartbeat of my beloved beneath my touch.
He is here. I can never be sure that he is truly here, with me, until I feel the strength of his heart pumping his blood beneath my palm. It is an unmistakable proof of his presence with me. I smile and bury my face within the warm hollow of his neck, drawing in the scent of him with every breath. I smell the salt of his sweat mixed slightly with dirt and a faint hint of what I soon realize is blood , though whether or not it is his I am not sure. My eyes sweep quickly across his body, searching for any obvious injuries. I see none, and yet I feel the stiffness of his muscles and the pain flowing through him thanks to his previous injury which he sustained in the war. He sleeps deeply thanks to these sufferings, and I am more than happy to let him.
Tasuki sleeps deeply throughout the morning, and by early afternoon, he still has not roused. I lie still beside him, allowing him to continue holding my hands upon his chest even though my body aches slightly from not moving and my stomach moans pitifully to be filled. I shift uncomfortably. I also have a great need to visit the latrines. Finally, although I hate to leave him alone, I must get up from my bed.
I dress quickly in a simple cream under robe and pale pink over robe, tying the two layers together with a wide, soft blue sash. I pull my ivory comb briskly through my hair, then leave it unbound and undecorated to sweep down my back in a long train of mahogany waves. I give myself a quick once-over in my vanity table mirror before I make a quick visit to the latrines at the back of the building. When I return, I knock gently on Naho's door, curious as to why I haven't heard her little knuckles tapping at mine yet this morning. She opens the door, her eyes cloudy, her hair disarrayed. I laugh heartily when I realize that I woke her.
"My little darling," I coo playfully, "Do you mean to tell me that it is past noon, and you have just now risen from your bed?"
"My lady..." she mumbles, beginning to tremble slightly, "Please...please do forgive me. I...I did not realize that..."
I stop her with a hand on her cheek, still warm from being nestled in her pillows. "Hush now, and go back to bed if you wish, Naho," I say gently, "I was only curious as to where you were. You have my permission to sleep all day if that is what you want." I smile happily at her, and I think that she sees the source of my happiness reflecting in my smoke- colored eyes. She returns my smile with one of her own, one that whispers to me how happy she is that my husband has returned safely to me. "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"
"Yes, my lady," Naho replies, touching my hand lightly with the tips of her small fingers. "Tomorrow."
I go to the kitchen after leaving my handmaid's room and request that lunch be delivered to my room as soon as possible. The cooks nod and happily declare that I will not have to wait long.
Deliberately, I walk unusually slowly as I return to my room, pacing my steps, studying the world around me with great care and tenderness. I see the bright rays of the sun falling down through the leaves of the magnolia trees, painting the ground of the courtyard in pale yellow. I see the vivid colors of the flowers that line the cobblestone walkways, and I see the plain loveliness of the green grass. I see beauty in everything around me, and I want nothing more than to be still and simply observe it. But I must return to my sleeping husband before he wakes so that I can be there to greet him. This will be our first day together in a long, long while, and I wish it to be as beautiful as he is. My pace unconsciously quickens to a light trot, then to a hard jog, until I am unknowingly pounding my feet into the wooden planks of the veranda as I run toward my chambers.
My breath is coming in thick gasps by the time I reach my door, and I take a moment to press my hand against the firm wood to support myself as I try to slow the fierce thud of my heart and the hard flow of my breath. When I have finally composed myself, I open my chamber door quietly and slip inside. Tasuki still sleeps soundly in my bed, his head tilted toward the window, his arms crossed serenely across his abdomen. As silently as I can, I approach him. When I reach the side of the bed, I remove my slippers and toss them into my open wardrobe, then climb in quietly beside him. The moment I have settled myself at his side, he turns his face to me and smiles playfully. The sly bastard. He was pretending to be asleep. Not able to resist the mischevious grin spread across his handsome face, I smile in return, then hit him softly on the shoulder. He only laughs and rolls on top of me, collecting me in his arms and pulling me with him as he rolls onto his back again.
" How long have you been awake?" I ask, looking down into the insides of his strange, dark eyes.
"Not long. You were gone. I thought you had gotten up in the middle of the night and left me," he answers.
I lay my body out on top of his, my breasts pressed to his chest, my knees planted on either side of his thighs, my face hovering above his. His breath flows out of him and into me. "I would never leave you, Tasuki," I say firmly, my lips drawn into a tight line across my face. They float above his for a moment before dipping down and pressing a chaste kiss upon them. I smile softly and bring my hand up to his head, where my fingers glide smoothly through his fiery hair, making his eyes drift close in pleasure. But then they suddenly fly open again, hurt and guilt swimming inside of them.
"Why not?" he asks me, his voice a haggard whisper, "Why would you never leave me? I've left you. I've left you so many times."
I sigh heavily and lower my head until my cheek is resting at his collarbone. My hands continue to play in his smooth hair. "Yes, you have," I reply firmly, "But only because it was your duty as a warrior of Suzaku." I raise my head again so that my eyes meet his in a swift, smooth movement. "But tell me," I continue, "Is all that finished now? You haven't spoken a word of what happened. Tell me everything that happened while you were gone and I will tell you if I plan on staying or not." Even I am surprised by my oddly blunt words. Do I truly mean them? I have always believed that a person's soul takes over for their mind in moments of extreme uncertainty and tension. Perhaps this is what is happening. My mouth is speaking what my soul and my heart are feeling. I should trust myself.
Tasuki looks at me with a startled expression on his handsome face, but his eyes do not duck from my gaze. They do not try to escape. "I'll tell you, Tansho," he says to me solemnly. And then he proceeds to do just that. I continue to lie on top of his warm, firm body as he speaks. And as he speaks, his hands move upwards until they are pressed into the soft fabric of the sash wrapped around my waist, pressing into the small of my back, holding me close to him. He relates to me the details of the strange world he fought in. He tells me about the towering buildings made of steel, the absence of trees and grass, the startling noises, the overwhelming smells, the odd sensations of a world that exists alongside ours but beyond our reach. His eyes falter every now and then as he relates the battle he and Chichiri shared with Nakago, and the final battle between Nakago and Tamahome. And his heart flutters beneath me in remembrance of the summoning of Suzaku, causing mine to flutter slightly as well. His eyes close as he tells of the deaths of Tamahome and Nakago, and the final farewell of Miaka, his priestess, the woman-child he had served with his heart and his life for the past several months. I watch as his eyes close in sadness of that particular memory. I know how he fought for her. I know how he protected her. And I know how he loved her. It could have been very easy for me to become jealous of her and the undeniable hold she had on Tasuki, on all of her warriors and nearly every man who came into contact with her, for that matter. But I understand what it was. It wasn't a conniving seduction. That girl could have never done something such as that. The genuine innocence of her heart was astounding to me. How a human being could be as compassionate and unselfish as she was is beyond me. It was the beauty of her pure heart that made people devote themselves to her and love her so fiercely. And I know that Tasuki loved her in such a way. I know that if it had been required of him to save his priestess's life, he would have gladly died for her. It does sadden me momentarily to think that she did in fact have this power over my husband, but I do not think badly of her in any way. She was the priestess of Suzaku, and Tasuki was one of her warriors; and they shall both share something unbreakable with each other that I will never know and never be a part of. And I accept this. And I honor it.
His story is a sad one, a glorious one, and a moving one. His life as a celestial warrior of Suzaku is over, though he will always bear the mark of the god on his arm and will always have the memory and knowledge of what he was and what he did. He will always be a warrior of Suzaku, and yet he is just a normal man now. I can feel this in him. It's something very gentle and shy, telling me how new it is to him and his body. But it is there nonetheless, and it is why he is free of his duties as a warrior. He is free to be a normal man, free to return to his beloved mountain, free to be my husband.
"Will you stay?" he asks solemnly, his eyes undemanding and soft, his lips half-smiling.
"Yes," I answer him, "I will stay. Always."
One of his hands slides from the small of my back to my hair, caressing me mindlessly as he smiles serenely at me. "Are you ready?" he asks, his eyes shining happily.
"Ready to what?" I reply, grinning.
"To go home."
My grin widens and I can feel the light behind my eyes beginning to shine like his. I gently bite down on my lower lip and nod my head slowly. "Yes," I whisper, lowering my face closer to his, "I'm ready."
For a long moment afterwards, we continue to lie quietly on my bed, not waiting for anything, not even really knowing what should come next. Both of us are slightly relieved to hear an enthusiastic knock on my chamber door, and I slide carefully off my husband's chest to answer it. Our lunch sits waiting on a silver tray in the hands of a kitchen maid, her face pink from the heat of the ovens, her hands callused from scouring kitchen floors. But her eyes are bright and their dark gray color reminds me of my own, making me smile. She smiles gently in return as I open the door for her so that she may place the tray inside my chambers. I offer her my thanks as she takes her leave, her gray eyes still smiling at me as I shut the door behind her.
"That's where I went," I say as I stroll through my alcove and into the bed- chamber.
"Huh?" Tasuki replies, cocking a dark eyebrow.
"When you woke up and I wasn't here. I went to order lunch for us." I take a seat on one side of the small table at the foot of my bed and wait for my husband to get up from the bed and join me.
Tasuki takes the hint and rolls lazily from the linens before slowly walking behind me. I then feel his strong hands on my back, his palms sliding over the curved slopes of my shoulders and down my arms. His hands take mine into them, curling my fingers to his as his chest leans gently into my back. I can feel he beat of his heart on the back of my neck, a haunting sensation that makes me part my lips and lean my head back into him. His mouth lingers near my ear, and I hear him whisper to me.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice flowing as soft as water. "I never meant to leave you, Tansho. I never meant to even fall in love with you, but you got into my soul somehow. You got into my heart, into my blood. And I couldn't wash you out. I didn't want to. I wanted to love you, so I did." He lifts my hands and presses them into the soft silk of my pink over-robe, pressing them into my heart. His hands lay on top of them, anchoring them. And he embraces me fully, making my breath gush from my lungs. "Forgive me for everything that I have done to hurt you. I did them all because I love you." His gentle words violently contradict themselves, and yet I understand every single one of them. They are true. They are strangely true.
"I know," I reply. For the first time in a long while, I can feel the beat of my own heart beneath my skin. I press my palms harder to the tops of my breasts, and I feel my heart pushing my blood through my veins, keeping me alive. It is a bewitching sensation that leaves me mesmerized, frail in the embrace of my husband, indifferent to all else around me. I smile and turn my head so that my nose grazes the tip of my husband's. Our eyes open at the same time and our mouths smile at each other, playfully, lovingly, truthfully. "You sounded like a poet just now," I joke, playfully gazing at Tasuki through my eyelashes.
"Don't ever tell Koji that," he replies, "I'll never hear the end of it."
I gasp lightly when I hear Koji's name, and something sparks inside of me. There are many things to tell Tasuki now that he has returned -- the most important of which has to do with both of our closest friends.
"Speaking of Koji," I remark, "I have some interesting news on him and a certain someone else."
Intrigued, Tasuki kisses my cheek gently before slipping into the seat across from me at the small table. He leans his elbows on the smooth wooden surface as I pour tea for the both of us. "He came to the palace about a week after you and Chichiri left for the priestess' world," I tell him, sipping lightly at the steaming tea cradled in my hands. "He said that he had been expecting the two of us to join him and the others on the mountain once everything was settled here, but that he got worried when a week went by and we never came."
"So he's here now?" Tasuki asks, his voice obviously excited. I nod, taking another dainty sip of my tea.
"When I told him where you had gone, he said that he might as well stay here and travel back with us as soon as you returned."
"Well I'll be damned!" he cries happily, slapping a palm playfully on the tabletop. "I'll make sure to go see him later on this afternoon, then." He picks up the cup of tea I poured for him and takes long swallows, his cheerful demeanor suddenly shifting to a more solemn one. He seems to be thinking hard on something but can't quite find the correct way to speak his thoughts. I see the faintest hint of a grin playing at his smooth lips, and I take a guess as to what he's thinking. I prop my elbows on the wooden surface of the table and lean my upper body towards my husband. His eyes rise to meet mine, curious.
"I think I know what you're thinking about," I say, smiling, "Could it be about a certain friend of mine who has taken a liking to a certain friend of yours, perhaps?"
He sets his cup down and laughs heartily, leaning back into his chair. "Don't play coy, Tansho," he warns playfully, "What's happened since I've been gone?"
I take yet another slow drink of my tea, teasing him. "Well," I begin, "Quite alot has happened. Koji and Koi have gone far past taking a liking to each other. As of now, you have the honor of escorting not one, but two ladies back to the Reikaku fortress."
"Koi's coming with us?" he inquires. I nod happily. "Wow," he comments, "Koji's even quicker than me when it comes to bagging a pretty lady."
I give him a playful slap on the arm, not sharp enough to be serious, but definitely sharp enough to warn him not to repeat that in front of Koi if he has any sense at all. He grins mischievously at me, his tantalizing little fangs poking out from beneath his lips.
"But that's not all that's happened," I reply, taking up a bowl from the tray resting on the table. With a pair of chopsticks, I fill the bowl to the brim with steaming, slick noodles, then fill one for Tasuki as well. "Tokizo has asked Okichi for her hand in marriage, and they've bought a townhouse near the palace." I look up through my eyelashes as I sip noodles to see Tasuki's reaction. His eyebrows lift and he nods approvingly, smiling faintly as he does so.
"That's great!" he remarks, but he seems to that's not all I have to say. "Go on," he encourages, "I want to hear everything."
"Empress Hoki has decided to found a shelter for women, and Misa has decided to stay here in the seraglio and assist her," I conclude gleefully.
My husband continues to slurp his noodles slowly, his mind obviously mulling over the few sentences I've said. "You and your friends have been pretty busy then, I guess," he finally replies, a bland expression on his face. His eyes then narrow and he glances at me suspiciously. "Do women do this often?" he asks, his voice partially serious and partially sarcastic. I grin playfully and reach across the table to lovingly pat his hand.
"Only women like me, my darling," I answer coyly.
A/N: Once again, so sorry that this update took forever, but I didn't expect my summer to be as busy as my school year. As you can see, my story is nearly finished, and I'm really having a hard time deciding just how it should be finished. I want to do it justice since it has been such a large and constant part of my life for the past two years (yep, two years – I began writing this the summer of my junior year). I plan on taking plenty of time to finish this properly, so please be patient in my last few updates. Also, thanks so much for the all the reviews!
Aama
To Prisstlilchica (cute name! ): Heh, I've had to answer this question a few times before, but no prob! Yeah, Tasuki's eyes are amber-colored in the series, but there is one picture in the FY art book that has his eyes shaded a dark greenish-gold color. And I loved them 'cause that's the color of my eyes! So I was like, what the hell – I'm gonna make his eyes the color I want them to be 'cause it's my story!
To KittyLynne: Hey there, dear, no worries! I understand completely 'cause I've been in the same position (it took me a month to finally read and review the latest chapter of The Promise! ) I hope you do get around to it though, 'cause you know how much I value your views and opinions about my story. And you know that I'll always read and review yours 'cause there's not another one out there like it!
Chapter 63
My Own Heart
I awake one morning and feel an irresistible urge to see the ocean. Although I know that I should take the time to dress properly for the biting cold of the winter weather, I opt to simply pull my fox fur-lined coat on over my nightdress and a pair of slippers on my feet. When I step outside my door, I see that the night is still clinging on although I expected it to already be dawn. The eastern edge of the sky has yet to redden with the rising sun. Slowly, I stroll toward the palace docks, following nothing but my urge to look at the sea.
When I reach the docks, I descend the wooden stairs that lead to the beach and take off my slippers before stepping out onto the cool sand. My slippers dangling from my fingers, my feet buried in the thick sand, I walk down to the shoreline and watch as the water flows upwards toward me as if it's trying to reach out and touch me. But knowing better not to allow my feet to get wet, I stay well out of its reach.
I am there on the beach, staring out into dark sea, when the sun begins to rise. It is a slow, beautiful process, beginning with the lightening of the eastern sky where it touches the water, followed by the vibrant colors of the sunrise. Yellow, orange, pink, and red begin to blend together in the sky and on the ocean, each reflecting off the other. And as the red sun ascends above the dark waves, I feel the air around me change. An oddly comfortable heaviness presses upon me, and I feel as if I know this sensation. It is familiar as much as it is strange. And then I catch the scent of something that makes me open my mouth and inhale deeply, happily. I know that aroma. I know these feelings. Breathing heavily and feeling oddly happy, I sit down on a nearby stone and watch the remainder of the sunrise, my mind wondering what in hell is happening to me. I continue sitting well into the morning, simply staring off into the sea, watching the waves rise and fall and surge. And then I realize that this day is going to be very different. That is what I felt in the air; that is what I smelled. I've forgotten how I can sense these odd things.
Smiling, I rise from the stone and leave the sea behind me.
All day, I wait for the wonderful thing to happen -- the thing I felt coming while I was on the beach, the thing heralded by the comforting heaviness and the sweet scent rising on the air. I wait for it and I wait for it. But it does not come. Finally, I give up the wait and change from my day clothes into a cotton sleeping dress and curl myself into the soft linens of my bed. There is a strange mixture of emotions flowing throughout me. I feel disappointment, confusion, anxiety, curiosity. What did I feel this morning on the beach? Am I going mad? Baffled and uncomfortable, I somehow manage to drift off to sleep.
I don't know how much of the night passes before I feel his hand on my skin. He touches me carefully and with great tenderness, as if he wants to wake me and yet doesn't want to. But he pushes me from my sleep nonetheless, and when I open my eyes, he is there beside me. It is still nighttime, and without the light from my hearth or the small oil lamp at my bedside, I can see very little of him save for the smoky silhouette of his body created by the moonlight shining through my window. But that is enough. That is enough for me.
"Hey," he whispers.
"Hey," I whisper back, smiling softly.
He leans over me, bringing our faces closer together. I can see his eyes and mouth, both gleaming in the brilliance of the moonlight. The dark green of his irises shimmers as the golden flecks within them catch the light, and one corner of his mouth lifts devilishly. I close my eyes happily and lift my hand up, intending to touch his face. But his hand intercepts my own and his fingers entwine themselves with mine, pressing our palms tightly together.
"I'm here," he says, his voice sliding across the air and into me.
"I know," I answer, "I felt you coming."
He only smiles at me, his beautiful, true smile, and lifts my hand to his face. He presses the back of my hand gently to his cheek and I can hear him breathe in the scent of the perfume clinging to the back of my wrist. I hear him inhale deeply, then release, then inhale again, as if he cannot breathe in enough of me.
"Do you know that I was only in Miaka's world for less than a day?" he asks, his nose still pressed to my skin, "How long have I been gone in this world?"
"Nearly three weeks," I answer, adoring the sensation of his fingers between mine. "Too long."
"Too long," he repeats softly, finally taking his nose away from my wrist and kissing it in return. His lips slide across the tendons on the back of my hand, rising on the small mountains of my knuckles, and down the tops of my slender fingers. When his mouth reaches my fingertips, he kisses them as well, then turns my hand over slowly in his and nestles his cheek deep within the warmth of my palm. I take the chance to seize him, and with a gentle motion, I have slipped my hand behind his head and tugged him back down to my level.
"Come here," I whisper, pulling him to me.
He removes his black overcoat and boots and slides into the soft linens beside me. I scoot my body closer to his until my belly is pressed firmly to his and I can feel the thump of his heart on my breasts. I lift my other hand and cradle his face in both my palms as he wraps his hands lovingly around my wrists. Beneath the linens, our legs overlap each other, making us both grin. We are so close that I can see my reflection in the darkness of his lovely eyes. I am shining in his gaze as if I am made of silver. Slowly, I close my eyes so that I can only feel the rough softness of his hands and smell the earthy, salty scent of his skin. And as I feel him and smell him here with me, I fight the urge to weep. I desire more than I anything to let myself weep from happiness and gratefulness and relief. But I resist, knowing that my days of crying are over with, whether they be happy days or sorrowful days.
I open my eyes again, expecting to see my reflection still shining beautifully in his gaze. But I don't. My husband's eyes are closed, and the smooth, even breath that flow from his parted lips tells me that he has fallen asleep. Smiling, I move myself even closer to him, giving him the warmth of my body. I release his face from my gentle hands in order to pull the linens higher, then Icurl my arms between our bodies, his fingers still lightly clenching my wrists. I rest my face close to his and brush my lips softly across his forehead before closing my eyes again and returning to sleep.
I awake with a sigh of relief, because the moment I leave my sleep, I immediately feel my husband next to me. Sometime during the night he rolled from his side onto his back, taking me with him partially. His hands still hold my wrists gently in their grasp, pressing my own hands upon his chest, into his heart. I lie still for a long while and watch Tasuki continue to sleep. I watch as his eyelids flutter. I watch as my hands rise and fall with the motion of his chest, and I feel the soft thunder of his heart deep within him. It is a comforting, mesmerizing sensation to feel the heartbeat of my beloved beneath my touch.
He is here. I can never be sure that he is truly here, with me, until I feel the strength of his heart pumping his blood beneath my palm. It is an unmistakable proof of his presence with me. I smile and bury my face within the warm hollow of his neck, drawing in the scent of him with every breath. I smell the salt of his sweat mixed slightly with dirt and a faint hint of what I soon realize is blood , though whether or not it is his I am not sure. My eyes sweep quickly across his body, searching for any obvious injuries. I see none, and yet I feel the stiffness of his muscles and the pain flowing through him thanks to his previous injury which he sustained in the war. He sleeps deeply thanks to these sufferings, and I am more than happy to let him.
Tasuki sleeps deeply throughout the morning, and by early afternoon, he still has not roused. I lie still beside him, allowing him to continue holding my hands upon his chest even though my body aches slightly from not moving and my stomach moans pitifully to be filled. I shift uncomfortably. I also have a great need to visit the latrines. Finally, although I hate to leave him alone, I must get up from my bed.
I dress quickly in a simple cream under robe and pale pink over robe, tying the two layers together with a wide, soft blue sash. I pull my ivory comb briskly through my hair, then leave it unbound and undecorated to sweep down my back in a long train of mahogany waves. I give myself a quick once-over in my vanity table mirror before I make a quick visit to the latrines at the back of the building. When I return, I knock gently on Naho's door, curious as to why I haven't heard her little knuckles tapping at mine yet this morning. She opens the door, her eyes cloudy, her hair disarrayed. I laugh heartily when I realize that I woke her.
"My little darling," I coo playfully, "Do you mean to tell me that it is past noon, and you have just now risen from your bed?"
"My lady..." she mumbles, beginning to tremble slightly, "Please...please do forgive me. I...I did not realize that..."
I stop her with a hand on her cheek, still warm from being nestled in her pillows. "Hush now, and go back to bed if you wish, Naho," I say gently, "I was only curious as to where you were. You have my permission to sleep all day if that is what you want." I smile happily at her, and I think that she sees the source of my happiness reflecting in my smoke- colored eyes. She returns my smile with one of her own, one that whispers to me how happy she is that my husband has returned safely to me. "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"
"Yes, my lady," Naho replies, touching my hand lightly with the tips of her small fingers. "Tomorrow."
I go to the kitchen after leaving my handmaid's room and request that lunch be delivered to my room as soon as possible. The cooks nod and happily declare that I will not have to wait long.
Deliberately, I walk unusually slowly as I return to my room, pacing my steps, studying the world around me with great care and tenderness. I see the bright rays of the sun falling down through the leaves of the magnolia trees, painting the ground of the courtyard in pale yellow. I see the vivid colors of the flowers that line the cobblestone walkways, and I see the plain loveliness of the green grass. I see beauty in everything around me, and I want nothing more than to be still and simply observe it. But I must return to my sleeping husband before he wakes so that I can be there to greet him. This will be our first day together in a long, long while, and I wish it to be as beautiful as he is. My pace unconsciously quickens to a light trot, then to a hard jog, until I am unknowingly pounding my feet into the wooden planks of the veranda as I run toward my chambers.
My breath is coming in thick gasps by the time I reach my door, and I take a moment to press my hand against the firm wood to support myself as I try to slow the fierce thud of my heart and the hard flow of my breath. When I have finally composed myself, I open my chamber door quietly and slip inside. Tasuki still sleeps soundly in my bed, his head tilted toward the window, his arms crossed serenely across his abdomen. As silently as I can, I approach him. When I reach the side of the bed, I remove my slippers and toss them into my open wardrobe, then climb in quietly beside him. The moment I have settled myself at his side, he turns his face to me and smiles playfully. The sly bastard. He was pretending to be asleep. Not able to resist the mischevious grin spread across his handsome face, I smile in return, then hit him softly on the shoulder. He only laughs and rolls on top of me, collecting me in his arms and pulling me with him as he rolls onto his back again.
" How long have you been awake?" I ask, looking down into the insides of his strange, dark eyes.
"Not long. You were gone. I thought you had gotten up in the middle of the night and left me," he answers.
I lay my body out on top of his, my breasts pressed to his chest, my knees planted on either side of his thighs, my face hovering above his. His breath flows out of him and into me. "I would never leave you, Tasuki," I say firmly, my lips drawn into a tight line across my face. They float above his for a moment before dipping down and pressing a chaste kiss upon them. I smile softly and bring my hand up to his head, where my fingers glide smoothly through his fiery hair, making his eyes drift close in pleasure. But then they suddenly fly open again, hurt and guilt swimming inside of them.
"Why not?" he asks me, his voice a haggard whisper, "Why would you never leave me? I've left you. I've left you so many times."
I sigh heavily and lower my head until my cheek is resting at his collarbone. My hands continue to play in his smooth hair. "Yes, you have," I reply firmly, "But only because it was your duty as a warrior of Suzaku." I raise my head again so that my eyes meet his in a swift, smooth movement. "But tell me," I continue, "Is all that finished now? You haven't spoken a word of what happened. Tell me everything that happened while you were gone and I will tell you if I plan on staying or not." Even I am surprised by my oddly blunt words. Do I truly mean them? I have always believed that a person's soul takes over for their mind in moments of extreme uncertainty and tension. Perhaps this is what is happening. My mouth is speaking what my soul and my heart are feeling. I should trust myself.
Tasuki looks at me with a startled expression on his handsome face, but his eyes do not duck from my gaze. They do not try to escape. "I'll tell you, Tansho," he says to me solemnly. And then he proceeds to do just that. I continue to lie on top of his warm, firm body as he speaks. And as he speaks, his hands move upwards until they are pressed into the soft fabric of the sash wrapped around my waist, pressing into the small of my back, holding me close to him. He relates to me the details of the strange world he fought in. He tells me about the towering buildings made of steel, the absence of trees and grass, the startling noises, the overwhelming smells, the odd sensations of a world that exists alongside ours but beyond our reach. His eyes falter every now and then as he relates the battle he and Chichiri shared with Nakago, and the final battle between Nakago and Tamahome. And his heart flutters beneath me in remembrance of the summoning of Suzaku, causing mine to flutter slightly as well. His eyes close as he tells of the deaths of Tamahome and Nakago, and the final farewell of Miaka, his priestess, the woman-child he had served with his heart and his life for the past several months. I watch as his eyes close in sadness of that particular memory. I know how he fought for her. I know how he protected her. And I know how he loved her. It could have been very easy for me to become jealous of her and the undeniable hold she had on Tasuki, on all of her warriors and nearly every man who came into contact with her, for that matter. But I understand what it was. It wasn't a conniving seduction. That girl could have never done something such as that. The genuine innocence of her heart was astounding to me. How a human being could be as compassionate and unselfish as she was is beyond me. It was the beauty of her pure heart that made people devote themselves to her and love her so fiercely. And I know that Tasuki loved her in such a way. I know that if it had been required of him to save his priestess's life, he would have gladly died for her. It does sadden me momentarily to think that she did in fact have this power over my husband, but I do not think badly of her in any way. She was the priestess of Suzaku, and Tasuki was one of her warriors; and they shall both share something unbreakable with each other that I will never know and never be a part of. And I accept this. And I honor it.
His story is a sad one, a glorious one, and a moving one. His life as a celestial warrior of Suzaku is over, though he will always bear the mark of the god on his arm and will always have the memory and knowledge of what he was and what he did. He will always be a warrior of Suzaku, and yet he is just a normal man now. I can feel this in him. It's something very gentle and shy, telling me how new it is to him and his body. But it is there nonetheless, and it is why he is free of his duties as a warrior. He is free to be a normal man, free to return to his beloved mountain, free to be my husband.
"Will you stay?" he asks solemnly, his eyes undemanding and soft, his lips half-smiling.
"Yes," I answer him, "I will stay. Always."
One of his hands slides from the small of my back to my hair, caressing me mindlessly as he smiles serenely at me. "Are you ready?" he asks, his eyes shining happily.
"Ready to what?" I reply, grinning.
"To go home."
My grin widens and I can feel the light behind my eyes beginning to shine like his. I gently bite down on my lower lip and nod my head slowly. "Yes," I whisper, lowering my face closer to his, "I'm ready."
For a long moment afterwards, we continue to lie quietly on my bed, not waiting for anything, not even really knowing what should come next. Both of us are slightly relieved to hear an enthusiastic knock on my chamber door, and I slide carefully off my husband's chest to answer it. Our lunch sits waiting on a silver tray in the hands of a kitchen maid, her face pink from the heat of the ovens, her hands callused from scouring kitchen floors. But her eyes are bright and their dark gray color reminds me of my own, making me smile. She smiles gently in return as I open the door for her so that she may place the tray inside my chambers. I offer her my thanks as she takes her leave, her gray eyes still smiling at me as I shut the door behind her.
"That's where I went," I say as I stroll through my alcove and into the bed- chamber.
"Huh?" Tasuki replies, cocking a dark eyebrow.
"When you woke up and I wasn't here. I went to order lunch for us." I take a seat on one side of the small table at the foot of my bed and wait for my husband to get up from the bed and join me.
Tasuki takes the hint and rolls lazily from the linens before slowly walking behind me. I then feel his strong hands on my back, his palms sliding over the curved slopes of my shoulders and down my arms. His hands take mine into them, curling my fingers to his as his chest leans gently into my back. I can feel he beat of his heart on the back of my neck, a haunting sensation that makes me part my lips and lean my head back into him. His mouth lingers near my ear, and I hear him whisper to me.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice flowing as soft as water. "I never meant to leave you, Tansho. I never meant to even fall in love with you, but you got into my soul somehow. You got into my heart, into my blood. And I couldn't wash you out. I didn't want to. I wanted to love you, so I did." He lifts my hands and presses them into the soft silk of my pink over-robe, pressing them into my heart. His hands lay on top of them, anchoring them. And he embraces me fully, making my breath gush from my lungs. "Forgive me for everything that I have done to hurt you. I did them all because I love you." His gentle words violently contradict themselves, and yet I understand every single one of them. They are true. They are strangely true.
"I know," I reply. For the first time in a long while, I can feel the beat of my own heart beneath my skin. I press my palms harder to the tops of my breasts, and I feel my heart pushing my blood through my veins, keeping me alive. It is a bewitching sensation that leaves me mesmerized, frail in the embrace of my husband, indifferent to all else around me. I smile and turn my head so that my nose grazes the tip of my husband's. Our eyes open at the same time and our mouths smile at each other, playfully, lovingly, truthfully. "You sounded like a poet just now," I joke, playfully gazing at Tasuki through my eyelashes.
"Don't ever tell Koji that," he replies, "I'll never hear the end of it."
I gasp lightly when I hear Koji's name, and something sparks inside of me. There are many things to tell Tasuki now that he has returned -- the most important of which has to do with both of our closest friends.
"Speaking of Koji," I remark, "I have some interesting news on him and a certain someone else."
Intrigued, Tasuki kisses my cheek gently before slipping into the seat across from me at the small table. He leans his elbows on the smooth wooden surface as I pour tea for the both of us. "He came to the palace about a week after you and Chichiri left for the priestess' world," I tell him, sipping lightly at the steaming tea cradled in my hands. "He said that he had been expecting the two of us to join him and the others on the mountain once everything was settled here, but that he got worried when a week went by and we never came."
"So he's here now?" Tasuki asks, his voice obviously excited. I nod, taking another dainty sip of my tea.
"When I told him where you had gone, he said that he might as well stay here and travel back with us as soon as you returned."
"Well I'll be damned!" he cries happily, slapping a palm playfully on the tabletop. "I'll make sure to go see him later on this afternoon, then." He picks up the cup of tea I poured for him and takes long swallows, his cheerful demeanor suddenly shifting to a more solemn one. He seems to be thinking hard on something but can't quite find the correct way to speak his thoughts. I see the faintest hint of a grin playing at his smooth lips, and I take a guess as to what he's thinking. I prop my elbows on the wooden surface of the table and lean my upper body towards my husband. His eyes rise to meet mine, curious.
"I think I know what you're thinking about," I say, smiling, "Could it be about a certain friend of mine who has taken a liking to a certain friend of yours, perhaps?"
He sets his cup down and laughs heartily, leaning back into his chair. "Don't play coy, Tansho," he warns playfully, "What's happened since I've been gone?"
I take yet another slow drink of my tea, teasing him. "Well," I begin, "Quite alot has happened. Koji and Koi have gone far past taking a liking to each other. As of now, you have the honor of escorting not one, but two ladies back to the Reikaku fortress."
"Koi's coming with us?" he inquires. I nod happily. "Wow," he comments, "Koji's even quicker than me when it comes to bagging a pretty lady."
I give him a playful slap on the arm, not sharp enough to be serious, but definitely sharp enough to warn him not to repeat that in front of Koi if he has any sense at all. He grins mischievously at me, his tantalizing little fangs poking out from beneath his lips.
"But that's not all that's happened," I reply, taking up a bowl from the tray resting on the table. With a pair of chopsticks, I fill the bowl to the brim with steaming, slick noodles, then fill one for Tasuki as well. "Tokizo has asked Okichi for her hand in marriage, and they've bought a townhouse near the palace." I look up through my eyelashes as I sip noodles to see Tasuki's reaction. His eyebrows lift and he nods approvingly, smiling faintly as he does so.
"That's great!" he remarks, but he seems to that's not all I have to say. "Go on," he encourages, "I want to hear everything."
"Empress Hoki has decided to found a shelter for women, and Misa has decided to stay here in the seraglio and assist her," I conclude gleefully.
My husband continues to slurp his noodles slowly, his mind obviously mulling over the few sentences I've said. "You and your friends have been pretty busy then, I guess," he finally replies, a bland expression on his face. His eyes then narrow and he glances at me suspiciously. "Do women do this often?" he asks, his voice partially serious and partially sarcastic. I grin playfully and reach across the table to lovingly pat his hand.
"Only women like me, my darling," I answer coyly.
A/N: Once again, so sorry that this update took forever, but I didn't expect my summer to be as busy as my school year. As you can see, my story is nearly finished, and I'm really having a hard time deciding just how it should be finished. I want to do it justice since it has been such a large and constant part of my life for the past two years (yep, two years – I began writing this the summer of my junior year). I plan on taking plenty of time to finish this properly, so please be patient in my last few updates. Also, thanks so much for the all the reviews!
Aama
To Prisstlilchica (cute name! ): Heh, I've had to answer this question a few times before, but no prob! Yeah, Tasuki's eyes are amber-colored in the series, but there is one picture in the FY art book that has his eyes shaded a dark greenish-gold color. And I loved them 'cause that's the color of my eyes! So I was like, what the hell – I'm gonna make his eyes the color I want them to be 'cause it's my story!
To KittyLynne: Hey there, dear, no worries! I understand completely 'cause I've been in the same position (it took me a month to finally read and review the latest chapter of The Promise! ) I hope you do get around to it though, 'cause you know how much I value your views and opinions about my story. And you know that I'll always read and review yours 'cause there's not another one out there like it!