Disclaimer: I do not own Fushigi Yuugi, and quite personally I don't plan
to either. ^-^;; Of course, if that EVER changes, and it won't, you people
will be the first to know.
Bitter-sweet Dreams:
Miaka continued gazing at the picture, never shifting from it. Pearly tears began welling up in her eyes, obscuring her vision. Without so much as a second thought to her actions, she hugged the shattered picture frame to her chest, the pieces of glass clinging to her tan school uniform. Several small shards tumbled into her lap as she shook with silent sobs.
"T-Tamahome, Yui-chan," she muttered, clenching her eyes tight in mental anguish. "What have I d-done?!"
She shifted the picture frame, hugging it ever closer to her body. She could feel pieces of the transparent glass digging into her palms as she gripped it tightly. From her eyes fell a number of silvery tears, landing with a soft pitter-patter sound on the floor.
"I can't choose! I just can't!" she cried out.
Sorrow filling her already occupied heart, she cast the picture frame away from her body, hearing it collide with the solid ground. Scattered around her were the remnants of glass, glittering in an almost hypnotic light. Miaka blinked.
'There IS a way I won't have to chose,' she reminded herself.
Miaka extended her already scraped hand to the floor, retrieving a particularly jagged portion of glass. Her eyes focused on it, studying every inch of the surface. Hesitating slightly, she ran her finger over the serrated edge, testing it. She felt it cut the tip of her forefinger, a small stream of blood trickling from the wound. It ran slowly down her finger, condensing into a small drop, and falling to the floor.
Biting her lower lip the downtrodden girl took the glass sliver, holding it between her hands as though it were a small, iron dagger. She took several deep breaths, feeling her heart rate quicken. Blood was pounding in her ears as she raised the piece of glass.
'It's now or never,' she told herself in her mind.
"This is for both of you!" Miaka shouted, plunging the dagger deep into her rib cage.
The brunette's eyes shot open as quickly as a bullet discharges from the barrel of a gun. Her breathing was rapid and laboured, her mouth tasted of dirt. Beads of sweat embroidered her forehead, several pieces of auburn hair pasted to her wan face. A feeling of numbness had consumed her body; a dull, throbbing sensation.
Using a bit of effort, Miaka managed to get to her knees, her breathing returning to normal. Her hands groped about her stomach, feeling for any sign of the stabbing wound, to no avail. There was no blood; and there was no wound.
"It - It was all a dream," she said aloud. "But I-I was sure I'd died. I had f-felt the pain! I killed myself!"
"Actually, Miaka, you were only dreaming," answered an upbeat voice; Chichiri's. The blue haired seishi hovered in mid-air, his staff clutched in one hand, his usual smile on his face.
The girl looked up at him in surprise. "Ch-Chichiri? Is that really you?"
"Of course it's me. No da!" he replied, smiling a bit more. "Who did you think it was?"
"I'm not sure," Miaka answered meekly, her hand going to her temple. She blinked, and looked back at him. "Wait, how did you know what I was dreaming? Were you spying on my dream?!"
Chichiri, hearing the sharp tone in her voice, held up his hands. "No, of course not."
"Then how did you know I had tried to kill myself in my dream?" she asked, her hands going to her hips instinctively.
"Well," the aqua haired man began, scratching the side of his head. "You see, while you were dreaming, you were yelling things, most of them incoherent. I happened to be walking along the path, recognized your voice, assumed you could be in trouble, and when I arrived here, I concluded that you must be dreaming about suicide. No da!"
A sweatdrop rolled down the side of Miaka's head. "You concluded all of THAT from what I was saying?!"
"Well, my other hunch was from the fact that you were making stabbing motions at your stomach in your sleep," he replied, never letting his smile fade. "There wasn't much else you could have been doing."
The teenage girl sighed. "I see."
"Tamahome really misses you," Chichiri said thoughtfully, changing the subject. "He's been a real mess ever since you left. He just sits and stares at the wall, hardly willing to do anything."
Miaka felt tears well up in her eyes as she heard Tamahome's name. "He d- does?"
With a sympathetic smile Chichiri nodded. "Very much so. You're all he ever talks about. Miaka this, Miaka that. Why'd you leave him?"
"I-I didn't exactly leave him; I just left."
"Wouldn't that be leaving him?" the cheerful man questioned. "Or be the same basic thing? No da!"
Miaka's lip trembled slightly. She willed her tears to stay hidden from Chichiri; willing herself to disguise her lonesome state of mind. "N-n-no."
"Then why don't you come back to the palace? Back to us? Miaka?"
The brown-clad school girl had clasped her hands over her ears, gritting her teeth and clenching her eyes shut. A number of small, shimmering tears streaked her cheeks.
"I can't come back! That would mean I'd be choosing Tamahome over Yui! She'd never forgive me!" Miaka cried in anguish.
Chichiri sighed, clasping his hand gently over the girl's shoulder. He carefully pried her hands from over her ears. "Listen to me, Miaka," he explained, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Not talking to Tamahome; or any of us won't make what happened between you and Yui go away. The best thing you can do is to come back, and we can all find a way to make things right again."
With a weak smile on her face, Miaka nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Right."
"Besides," Chichiri continued, "you must be getting pretty hungry by now. Dinner is being served at the palace right now in fact! Lots of good food, no da!"
"F-food?" the Miko asked, clasping her hands together, a small stream of drool trickling down her chin. "Lead me to it! I'm STARVING! And after that, we can have cake! And then candy and cookies and rice pudding!"
Miaka, eyes shining with excitement, dashed off, a cloud of dust trailing behind her.
Chichiri sweatdropped. "I guess some things never change. HEY MIAKA! WAIT UP! NO DA!"
I'm sorry, it's been MONTHS since I've updated this fic. I've been busy with other things *cough* and I am just now catching up on posting new chapters. Hope you enjoyed this! Next chapter is sure to be full of reunions and interesting stuffs! Or at least I think so. ^-^;;
Until next time, ja ne!
Kawaii Youko ^_~
Bitter-sweet Dreams:
Miaka continued gazing at the picture, never shifting from it. Pearly tears began welling up in her eyes, obscuring her vision. Without so much as a second thought to her actions, she hugged the shattered picture frame to her chest, the pieces of glass clinging to her tan school uniform. Several small shards tumbled into her lap as she shook with silent sobs.
"T-Tamahome, Yui-chan," she muttered, clenching her eyes tight in mental anguish. "What have I d-done?!"
She shifted the picture frame, hugging it ever closer to her body. She could feel pieces of the transparent glass digging into her palms as she gripped it tightly. From her eyes fell a number of silvery tears, landing with a soft pitter-patter sound on the floor.
"I can't choose! I just can't!" she cried out.
Sorrow filling her already occupied heart, she cast the picture frame away from her body, hearing it collide with the solid ground. Scattered around her were the remnants of glass, glittering in an almost hypnotic light. Miaka blinked.
'There IS a way I won't have to chose,' she reminded herself.
Miaka extended her already scraped hand to the floor, retrieving a particularly jagged portion of glass. Her eyes focused on it, studying every inch of the surface. Hesitating slightly, she ran her finger over the serrated edge, testing it. She felt it cut the tip of her forefinger, a small stream of blood trickling from the wound. It ran slowly down her finger, condensing into a small drop, and falling to the floor.
Biting her lower lip the downtrodden girl took the glass sliver, holding it between her hands as though it were a small, iron dagger. She took several deep breaths, feeling her heart rate quicken. Blood was pounding in her ears as she raised the piece of glass.
'It's now or never,' she told herself in her mind.
"This is for both of you!" Miaka shouted, plunging the dagger deep into her rib cage.
The brunette's eyes shot open as quickly as a bullet discharges from the barrel of a gun. Her breathing was rapid and laboured, her mouth tasted of dirt. Beads of sweat embroidered her forehead, several pieces of auburn hair pasted to her wan face. A feeling of numbness had consumed her body; a dull, throbbing sensation.
Using a bit of effort, Miaka managed to get to her knees, her breathing returning to normal. Her hands groped about her stomach, feeling for any sign of the stabbing wound, to no avail. There was no blood; and there was no wound.
"It - It was all a dream," she said aloud. "But I-I was sure I'd died. I had f-felt the pain! I killed myself!"
"Actually, Miaka, you were only dreaming," answered an upbeat voice; Chichiri's. The blue haired seishi hovered in mid-air, his staff clutched in one hand, his usual smile on his face.
The girl looked up at him in surprise. "Ch-Chichiri? Is that really you?"
"Of course it's me. No da!" he replied, smiling a bit more. "Who did you think it was?"
"I'm not sure," Miaka answered meekly, her hand going to her temple. She blinked, and looked back at him. "Wait, how did you know what I was dreaming? Were you spying on my dream?!"
Chichiri, hearing the sharp tone in her voice, held up his hands. "No, of course not."
"Then how did you know I had tried to kill myself in my dream?" she asked, her hands going to her hips instinctively.
"Well," the aqua haired man began, scratching the side of his head. "You see, while you were dreaming, you were yelling things, most of them incoherent. I happened to be walking along the path, recognized your voice, assumed you could be in trouble, and when I arrived here, I concluded that you must be dreaming about suicide. No da!"
A sweatdrop rolled down the side of Miaka's head. "You concluded all of THAT from what I was saying?!"
"Well, my other hunch was from the fact that you were making stabbing motions at your stomach in your sleep," he replied, never letting his smile fade. "There wasn't much else you could have been doing."
The teenage girl sighed. "I see."
"Tamahome really misses you," Chichiri said thoughtfully, changing the subject. "He's been a real mess ever since you left. He just sits and stares at the wall, hardly willing to do anything."
Miaka felt tears well up in her eyes as she heard Tamahome's name. "He d- does?"
With a sympathetic smile Chichiri nodded. "Very much so. You're all he ever talks about. Miaka this, Miaka that. Why'd you leave him?"
"I-I didn't exactly leave him; I just left."
"Wouldn't that be leaving him?" the cheerful man questioned. "Or be the same basic thing? No da!"
Miaka's lip trembled slightly. She willed her tears to stay hidden from Chichiri; willing herself to disguise her lonesome state of mind. "N-n-no."
"Then why don't you come back to the palace? Back to us? Miaka?"
The brown-clad school girl had clasped her hands over her ears, gritting her teeth and clenching her eyes shut. A number of small, shimmering tears streaked her cheeks.
"I can't come back! That would mean I'd be choosing Tamahome over Yui! She'd never forgive me!" Miaka cried in anguish.
Chichiri sighed, clasping his hand gently over the girl's shoulder. He carefully pried her hands from over her ears. "Listen to me, Miaka," he explained, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Not talking to Tamahome; or any of us won't make what happened between you and Yui go away. The best thing you can do is to come back, and we can all find a way to make things right again."
With a weak smile on her face, Miaka nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Right."
"Besides," Chichiri continued, "you must be getting pretty hungry by now. Dinner is being served at the palace right now in fact! Lots of good food, no da!"
"F-food?" the Miko asked, clasping her hands together, a small stream of drool trickling down her chin. "Lead me to it! I'm STARVING! And after that, we can have cake! And then candy and cookies and rice pudding!"
Miaka, eyes shining with excitement, dashed off, a cloud of dust trailing behind her.
Chichiri sweatdropped. "I guess some things never change. HEY MIAKA! WAIT UP! NO DA!"
I'm sorry, it's been MONTHS since I've updated this fic. I've been busy with other things *cough* and I am just now catching up on posting new chapters. Hope you enjoyed this! Next chapter is sure to be full of reunions and interesting stuffs! Or at least I think so. ^-^;;
Until next time, ja ne!
Kawaii Youko ^_~