Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.
However, the plotline, as well as all original characters in this story, do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.
Musical Selection: "The Promise" by Secret Garden from their CD "Once In a Red Moon."
Acknowledgment: Once again, my deepest gratitude to Ryuen and Purple Mouse, for their persistent excellence and supremely rapid turn-around time as editors—and for their limitless support as friends.
This chapter is dedicated to that underappreciated hero of this website: the faithful and dedicated reviewer. In my case, this is for a fellow writer who has followed me from fic to fic, and who has always given me her emotional impressions and endless encouragement for every single chapter without fail, being the first and often only reviewer for days at a time. Tenshi Kitsune, aka Wingstar 23—this one's for you, with my heartfelt thanks.
Chapter 21. To love with two hearts…
The faint light of dawn seeped between the trees, exhaling the new day's warmth, sending the last of the night's chill fleeing in spiraling tendrils of mist. He slept soundly beneath the shawl, warmed by the gossamer folds of silk and the body curled at his side.
The body stirred and stretched beside him, yet he did not awaken, adrift in the sensuous slumber known to new lovers. Another, more forceful movement jostled him, pushing him to slightly higher levels of consciousness; he still slept but now trod the shallower waters of dreams and memories. He grasped the soft, feminine form that was gently trying to escape his embrace, pulling her into him and nestling against her warm curves. A few vague thoughts drifted half-formed through his somnolent mind.
Soft. Warm. Woman.
Love.
"Kouran," he murmured into her hair…then slipped back beneath the surface of his consciousness, so deeply asleep that he never felt the drops of moisture falling on his chest like the last warm rain at summer's end.
Once again he swam up towards consciousness, roused by the bright morning light shining behind his closed eyelid. He shivered with pleasure, enjoying the feel of her fingers tracing light patterns across his skin.
"Mmm…I could see myself waking like this every morning for the rest of my life."
She laughed, the huskiness of her voice stroking him like a warm caress. "That could be arranged, Master Magician. Especially if you don't mind sleeping outside every night."
He rolled over on his side and opened his eye, smiling up at her. She wore his white silk robe belted loosely around her waist—and she had never looked more beautiful. Her hair was tousled around her face, its dark waves gleaming in the burnished light; her eyes shone with love and something else, something deep and undefinable.
A wave of emotion tightened his throat. "We could…we would share a cup of tea and talk about our plans for the day."
"I'm way ahead of you." She handed him a cup of jasmine tea, the tiny white flowers swirling among the fragrant wisps of steam. He sat up and sipped it gratefully, grasping her free hand as she batted her eyelashes playfully over the rim of her own cup. "So what would our plans be? Gathering herbs, traveling to different towns…saving Konan?"
"Well, that is my chosen path, a path I'm willing to share."
"Good thing too, since you'll have so many seishi brothers sharing it with you." She looked across the clearing, past the silvery grey trees and lush greenery, her eyes distant as if she were gazing into the future. "Come to think of it, you could use another female in that group. The poor Priestess of Suzaku is gonna be waaaay overrun by all that testosterone." She grinned as a thought crossed her mind. "Except for Nuriko, of course."
He gripped her hand tighter. "I would need you as well."
Something flashed in her eyes before she dropped her gaze, hiding her thoughts. Her voice was carefully light. "Not to mention, someone's gonna have to keep that brat Shun'u in line."
He laughed. "You see? It will be a marvelous adventure!"
"And after we've summoned Suzaku and saved the world?"
Now it was his turn to gaze into the distance. "We'll find someplace peaceful and beautiful, with trees and fields and streams jumping with fish—"
"Don't forget the strawberry patch."
"Of course not. And I'll build you a house, not too big…
"With a white picket fence."
He met her wistful look with a smile, taking their teacups and placing them on the ground. "If you like. Anything you like. Then we'll start a family—"
"With two-point-five perfect children—"
Now he looked startled. "How can you have half a child?"
"Never mind, it's a silly joke from my world. Go on."
"And we'll watch them grow, and teach the girls that they're just as smart as the boys…"
"And have their father put on the neighborhood magic show each summer…"
"And after they're grown, we'll sit together in the sunset and grow old…"
"Until we have to crawl on our arthritic old knees to reach each other in bed."
They laughed, sharing in the joy of the simple dream. Suddenly she leaned forward and caught his lips, taking his breath away with the sweet tenderness of her kiss. She moved her lips gently against his…then just as gently released him. As she drew back, he saw that her brown eyes sparkled with tears.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you for sharing that with me. Wherever I go in my life, whatever I do…I'll always have that dream of perfect love to keep in my heart—to keep me strong." Her voice faltered, and she turned away, fumbling with the teacups.
Her voice rose again in forced cheerfulness. "But now we have to get ready to go. It's time to get thee to a monastery, as they say."
He lunged forward and caught her shoulders in a fierce grip, pulling her tight against him and seizing her lips. His kiss was hard and frantic, flavored with desperation and grief. She kissed him just as passionately, clinging to him as if she could meld them together by desire alone. They finally broke their kiss, but he kept her tight against him, feeling her heart hammer wildly against his as he buried his face in her neck. He gasped, trying to form words around the searing pain in his breast.
"I've made some terrible mistakes in my life," he finally choked. "Tragic mistakes, mistakes that have cost lives—so why do I feel certain that letting you go is the worst mistake of all?"
"It's not." She pushed back to look into his face, and forced a smile through her welling tears. "It's not a mistake. We have a saying in my world, Houjun: Timing Is Everything. And the truth is that our timing is horribly off. You have years of spiritual training ahead of you, training that you need to save your country, while I—my family must be tearing Tokyo apart looking for me. But that's not the real reason I'm leaving."
She traced his features with her fingertips, her eyes shining with the honesty he so loved. "I can't come in second to any woman in your life—not even if she's a ghost. Especially not if she's a ghost. And the heart of Ri Houjun still belongs to Kouran."
He felt bitter pain lance through him at the truth of her words, the truth that stood like an unbreachable wall between them. But there was another truth she needed to realize. "I do love you, you know."
"Yes, I know." She smiled sadly, her tears now spilling over. "Just…not enough."
"But listen," she went on, her voice soft with faint hope. "Time has a funny way of changing things. Who knows? Maybe someday, if God and Suzaku are good, we'll meet again. Maybe then, your heart will be free—"
Joss faltered, then, taking a deep breath, placed her hands on his chest and stared intently into his tearful gaze. "But even if we never get that second chance, it won't change the way I feel. You see, my heart doesn't belong to Ri Houjun, the boy who loves Kouran. My heart belongs to the scarred and wounded warrior Chichiri. No matter what lies in my future, I will always think of myself as..." Her voice rose, ringing through the air like a promise, an eternal vow. "...from this day onward, I, Josselin Kristin Nagano-Kern, will always be—Chichiri's Girl."
Celestial Warrior Chichiri knelt before his lady and pressed her hands to his trembling lips, humbled by her courage and unwavering love. She ran her fingers though his soft, silvery-blue locks, savoring this single crystal moment in which she stood foremost in his heart above all.
But her strength receded in the face of her aching need to hold him close at least once more. Sinking down before him, she tilted his chin up with one finger as she assumed a shaky but impudent grin. "We have another saying in my world, Suzaku no Chichiri: 'One For The Road.' What do you say?"
His answer was swift and silent, as he seized her and tumbled her over into the soft grass. Their laughter rose into the cloudless sky, sparkling like tears in the bright morning sun.
Three figures stood in the courtyard of the monastery, conversing in hushed voices as if it were late evening instead of mid-afternoon. Past and future, thought Suzaku acolyte Chichiri, fighting the pain in his breast as he watched them from the shadows of the main temple. Before he began his spiritual training in the service of his god, he was required to close the gates on his former life—and he knew that nothing Suzaku had ever before asked of him compared to the difficulty of this final task.
A light breeze lifted his bangs and fluttered his brilliant scarlet robes as if urging him onward. He swallowed hard, looking for some way to hold on to his composure before stepping out into their view. The words of the Master echoed in his mind: One inch ahead…and all is total darkness. So be it. Why should he fear the darkness, he who had lived in it for so many years? Life was uncertain, changeable in a heartbeat; he knew that better than most. But life's uncertainty had held no fears while he had stood with the people he loved.
That thought propelled him out into the blinding sunlight, fleeing the choking grief that followed hard on his every thought. Best to get this over with—swift and bitter, like a knife-thrust to the heart.
Only Joss looked startled at his sudden, rapid entrance; the Doctor and the Master merely smiled, their expressions uncannily mirroring each other in wise understanding. Chichiri made a deep and respectful obeisance to the Master, hoping that he would regain control of his breathing before either man noticed.
The Master placed his hand on Chichiri's newly shorn hair. "Come and see me when you are finished. We will talk." He turned and bowed to the Doctor, who responded with a bow of equal respect, then made his painful, dignified way back to the temple, clinging tightly to his sturdy shakujou.
Joss forced a cheeky smile. "Hey, nice threads."
Chichiri blushed. "Red isn't really my color, but there's no other choice for Suzaku acolytes."
She reached up and playfully brushed the close-shaven hair on his skull. "You gotta admit, though, the hair's really you."
He laughed. "It's a strange thing, but my bangs kept slipping away from the razor, as well as the little length of hair in the back. Finally, the barber threw up his hands and said it was Suzaku's will, and stomped out."
"Troublemaker," teased Joss, then suddenly looked away, blinking rapidly.
The Doctor broke the awkward silence by clearing his throat. "We have something for you." He nodded at Joss, and she ran a short distance to a nearby tree, bringing back a slender wooden pole that had rested against its trunk. Smiling at Chichiri, she handed him the pole.
He grasped it, startled to feel a familiar hum of power. "My ash staff! But how did you—?"
"We machined it in the TARDIS wood-working room—don't ask," Joss replied with careful cheerfulness. "We figured that it's done such a good job for you over the years, it would be a shame to lose it."
Chichiri looked over at the Doctor, wondering whether this gift violated the monastery rules of abandoning all of his earthly possessions. Not to mention its role in his forbidden powers.
The Doctor smiled mischievously, easily reading his thoughts. "The Master says he never noticed us bringing anything in, and it's unlikely that any of the other monks will contradict him. Oh, and when you complete your training, it's quite possible that you will find that the staff fits nicely into the finial head of your new shakujou."
Chichiri tightened his fingers around the pole, taking comfort in the familiarity of its smooth wood. This was so much like them, to give him something to hold onto in the lonely days ahead.
But now it was time—and he was man enough to take the final steps himself. "I guess this is it." His voice resonated with warmth and regret and a surety he didn't feel.
Joss met his gaze with a trembling smile. "Yep, this is it," she said softly, staring intently at him as if she were memorizing his features, carving his picture on her heart. "See, I promised I wouldn't go all weepy on you. I promised you—" Her voice broke as her control fell apart, and she turned and fled, running blindly all the way back to the TARDIS, which stood blue and cryptic outside the monastery gates.
Fighting his own tears, Chichiri watched her fumble with the doors until she disappeared inside. "You will look after her, won't you?" He kept his eyes fixed on the closed doors.
"I'll see her safely home, I promise."
He didn't think he could possibly feel any more pain, but he was wrong. It felt as if his heart was being slowly torn apart one fiber at a time. He forced his eyes up through a haze of red—and met a calm, blue-green gaze that somehow soothed the turmoil in his breast.
As it had from the beginning. As it never would again.
Without realizing it, he had stretched his hand out to the Doctor, as if he could hold this man—hold onto this moment in time and never let it end. His hand was grasped warmly and turned upward, and he instinctively closed his fingers around the small, hard objects that were suddenly pressed into his palm.
"Another gift," murmured the velvet voice.
Chichiri stared down at the handful of white squares, each the size of the center of his palm, their surfaces as smooth and hard as marble but extremely lightweight. For some reason, he had difficulty counting them.
"It's a transdimensional message cube. If you ever have need of me, all you need to do is assemble the pieces into a multidimensional cube, transmit your thoughts—and I will receive them in the TARDIS, whenever and wherever I might be."
Chichiri tried to fit the pieces together, but they fell apart in his palm. "Doctor, I don't know how to—"
"When you have need of me, you will know. Of course, I'm not allowed to assist you in your mission to summon Suzaku, but at any other time—"
"What about next week?" Chichiri fought to keep the quaver from his voice. "You could stop by, we could talk…" he imitated the Doctor's accent, "…have a cuppa tay."
The Doctor laughed. "You'll be too busy studying the ways of Suzaku to think of me. After that, you'll be training with Taiitsukun, and gathering your fellow warriors—"
"And you'll be busy saving another universe…or maybe just one man's soul."
They smiled at one another, sharing one last moment of perfect understanding. Finally the Doctor reached out and warmly squeezed Chichiri's hand. "Take care of yourself, Houjun," he whispered, his words a tender blessing. He turned and strode through the monastery gates.
Chichiri watched the Doctor walk away, taking in his confident gait, the velvet coat swaying behind him—and the sense of finality hit him like a blow. This wasn't like the other times; this really, truly was the last time that he would ever see the Doctor.
There were no more chances.
Before he knew it, he was running full-out, his robes fluttering behind him and his sandals slapping against the smooth stones, sliding in the dust. "Doctor! Doctor, wait!"
The time lord turned, a surprised expression crossing his features as Chichiri caught his arm, holding onto him fiercely as if he were afraid that the Doctor would disappear within his grasp.
"I can't let you go!" he gasped. Chichiri swallowed and with an effort, regained his breath. "Not without telling you something—something important."
He began to speak in a soft, emotional voice. "From the time I was very young, I'd always wondered what it would be like to have a father. I know that I had the best mother anyone could ever hope for, so I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I would watch the other children and…I would wonder." He went on, his voice growing stronger with every phrase. "Then, when I was a young man betrothed to Kouran, I wondered what sort of father I would be. You see, I never knew—I didn't know how."
Chichiri looked into the Doctor's face, his eye shining with unshed tears. "But now I know. To be a good—no, to be a truly great father—all I need do is love…" he placed a trembling hand on the Doctor's chest, "...as if I had two hearts instead of one."
The Doctor looked down at the hand, his hair hiding his eyes. Chichiri saw him swallow hard—once, twice—before covering the magician's hand with his own. He tried to speak…coughed…and tried again. "In all my years…" the velvet tenor was very soft, "…that's perhaps the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Green-blue eyes met his, emotion shining from their depths. "And of all my companions, you have been one of the most… Perhaps the most—" the voice broke, unable to continue.
Chichiri took pity on the Doctor and drew him into an embrace. Although they were nearly the same height, he felt a sudden shifting of scale, as if he held the vastness of time and space in his arms…yet at the same time, a delicate being as fragile as a bird. He inhaled the Doctor's scent—ozone and sandalwood and the alien scent that he now called stardust—and closed his eye as he tried to memorize how it felt to be close to this man: infinite compassion and wisdom encased in a frail human/Gallifreyan shell.
He memorized the feel of velvet and silk, the sense of the alien and the familiar, and knew that it was time to let go. Moving his face deeper into the soft brown-gold waves, he whispered a few last words into the time lord's ear. Finished with saying all that he needed to say, he stepped back…and let his friend go.
The Doctor looked down at the ground, staring blankly at the dust for a moment before lifting his eyes to meet Chichiri's compassionate gaze. He gave a brief nod in acknowledgment of his friend's words, smiling a sad, crooked smile at his inability to speak the same.
"You don't need to say it," Chichiri murmured reassuringly. "Everything you do, everything you are…speaks more than any words could ever say."
The Doctor turned away abruptly, taking a few steps towards the TARDIS—then stopped, standing utterly still. Suddenly he whirled around, reaching his companion in a few short strides. Chichiri had a brief glimpse of the Doctor's expression crumpling in grief before he was pulled tight against the time lord's hearts.
The Doctor stroked the fine silvery-blue hair for the last time, then leaned in, whispering into his companion's ear. Stepping back, he smiled at Chichiri, once more in control of himself. "Sometimes you do need to say the words," he murmured.
Chichiri watched the Doctor walk to the TARDIS and pause briefly before the doors, turning to look back at him once more before disappearing inside. The blue light atop the box began to flash, and with a final wheezing groan, the TARDIS vanished from his sight.
Like a dream. A beautiful, ephemeral dream that nevertheless had the power to change an entire life.
Suzaku no Seishi Chichiri turned and walked through the monastery gates.
Inside the TARDIS, across a short distance in time and space, Joss propped her hands against the console as she leaned towards the small figure on the viewscreen. Her gaze lingered on his form until it disappeared from sight.
"Do you think he's going to be all right?" she asked anxiously.
"All right?" The Doctor stepped up beside her, his eyes shining with emotion and his entire form bursting with paternal pride.
"He's going to be magnificent!"
Fin
Credits: The transdimensional message cube is the creation of Jonathan Blum and Kate Orman, as described in their Eighth Doctor novel, "Vampire Science."
I came across the Buddhist saying, "One inch ahead, and all is total darkness," from the spectacular story by Shunyata Ryuen called "One Inch Ahead." For all of you FY fans who may be craving a Chichiri fix, and who have somehow missed this profound and emotional story—Go Read This! It's listed on my author profile under "Favorite Stories."
XxX
Author notes: (2-16-05) First of all, to CG: Happy Birthday, Little Sis!
And now…
Hard to believe, isn't it? After two years and seven months, I have finally come to the conclusion of "Bridge Over The Abyss." Of course, in my usual way, I'm not quite finished with Bridge as yet—there's still an Epilogue and an, um, alternate project that I will tell you about later.
Before I go any further, though, I must try to convey my overwhelming gratitude to each and every one of you, readers and reviewers alike. I had never expected your dedicated support over so many years, especially when I pushed you into places that you probably never expected FY fanfiction to go.
I don't think that there's ever been a fanfic author who has blithely demanded so much from her readers in a single fic. I started out by introducing a crossover character right in the second chapter, then shoved away the fantasy aspects of Fushigi Yuugi in favor of some spaced-out sci-fi explanations of the Universe of the Four Gods. Next, I introduced an original character as a major player in the fic, and again, simply expected you to accept her. I didn't hesitate to throw in canonical references to nearly all of the gaiden novels, and when I decided that I didn't like canon, I made up my own background histories for the characters.
Instead of sex or star-crossed romance, I threw philosophy and horror and "tragic back stories" at you for nearly two straight years, only returning to romance in the second-to-last chapter. I think I must have broken nearly every rule for "How to please the FY fanfic readership"—and yet you responded with the most profound, insightful, and intelligent reviews that it has ever been any author's honor to receive.
You have all spoiled me for life, ya know! :P
I wish that I could name each and every one of you, but I'm sure that the Powers-That-Be have some rule against it—or if they don't at the moment, they'll probably make one up. There are a few people that I absolutely have to mention by name, though: The FY Authors' Group, particularly Ryuen, Purple Mouse, Kryssa, and Chichiri's Girl, whose reviews made me laugh and cry and who also inspired me to take crazy chances. Some of the most comprehensive, insightful, and wonderfully critical reviews came from Dee-chan (It's the Dee), Zolac-no-Miko, Anonymous Celebrity, Mirth, Methodic Madness, Tenshi Kitsune, Spak-chan, Riverwood, Otaku-no-miko, Chibi-Kaz, Etrurielle, Otaku-no-Pitcher—oh, God, I can't list all of you but I wish I could!
I also have to make special mention of the "Doctor Who Fandom-only" writers: Drox and Jack-of-the-Pelt. We encountered one another on other websites, and they generously followed me here to let me know how the story sounded to non-Fushigi Yuugi readers. Drox and Jack—your input has meant more to me than I can possibly express. You have my gratitude forever.
Also, many thanks to the FY authors who had been Doctor Who fans all along, letting me know that I wasn't completely insane for mixing fantasy anime with British sci-fi: Mirth (who had been cheering me on from the beginning, when I had first proposed this fic at the end of White Stones), kyanos, Babbling Brook—and anyone else I may have overlooked out of spaciness, not out of ingratitude!
Furthermore, I am indebted to the people who dropped in for just a single review or who stayed for only a short while: your kind words inspired me to keep going.
Well, I think the pre-recorded music's playing, telling me that my Oscar Acceptance speech is getting beyond boring :P, so I'd better wrap this up.
Future Directions: Yes, there is an Epilogue. But don't expect the warm fuzzies; we're leaving Emotional Bridge behind to segue into canon Fushigi Yuugi and of course, the Sequel, Hidden Paths on a Cloud-cast Night. Oh, God, I finally get to return to Hidden Paths! Yatta! Oh—and for any of you who wonder why certain things occurred in Bridge…there might possibly be a very short author note section attached to that Epilogue. :P
Fi-nal-ly…ahem. A small portion of the Bridge readership has let me know of their dissatisfaction with the Doctor being, er, shut out, so to speak, from the action in Chapter Twenty. Some un-named person (coughmousechancough) has even coined a term for the hoped-for inclusion of the Doctor, naming it "Level Five Interaction." So…it's just possible that I could be persuaded to write an, er, addendum to Chapter Twenty that will rectify these wrongs.
In fact, it's just possible that such an addendum is already in progress. However…after a few initial forays, it has become clear that said addendum cannot be posted on this site, due to its NC-17 content. No, I don't intend to get scurrilously graphic; I'm rating the addendum NC-17 due to the unusual nature of the interactions, not in the normal curve so to speak. So if such addendum were to be posted, it would be either on A-dul-tFfdot net; possibly on Med-minrdot org or on the Fanfic refugees website (as soon as we get an "age access" window.) (Sorry for the weird spellings, but there seems to be some weird editing out of other site names here.) You may, if you are of age, look for it in the future under the title "Burning Bridges." :P I will also put up a notice on my author page when I finally post it.
Not that being of age means that you'll automatically want to read it. This scene veers so far from "canonical Bridge" and the balance of the relationships between the three protagonists that I highly discourage anyone reading it who feels it will undermine their affection for Bridge. This is just for the few who are interested in this "alternate universe" possibility between the characters.
Enough said. Shut up and go home, Roku. :P I hope to see you all at the Epilogue-and at the sequel, Hidden Paths!
Thank you, with much love and affection. (bows deeply)
Love,
Roku
