A/N: Hi again! Sorry about the delay. It so totally wasn't my fault, because my account was temporarily locked until now because something in the code is wrong. Or maybe I am. :shifty eyes: (For the full rant, you can view my profile.) In any case, I'm back. Thank you, everyone, who kindly reviewed my story. It's given me a lot of encouragement. I think I'm only going to make this 3 to 4 parts at the most. It was meant to be a one-shot, but I broke it up into parts to make it easier to read. (And to keep you in suspense, of course. Hehe.) Anyway, I guess that's it for this time, and don't forget to listen to plenty of sappy music while reading! My recommendation for today is This Is Your Life – Switchfoot.


The Calm Before The Storm

The next morning, Tamahome awoke very late. He was safely in bed and Tasuki was gone. Over the next few weeks, Tamahome wasn't sure if the incident that night had ever happened, or if he had dreamed it. Tasuki had gone back to his usual taunts and blunt character, as if nothing had happened. Either way, what occurred was all very foggy to Tamahome, as if it didn't want to be remembered clearly. Nonetheless, even if Tasuki had never said any of that and it was all in Tamahome's insomniac head—which was very likely—he felt relieved all the same: they say crying is for sissies, but it had relieved a lot of steam from Tamahome's broken-down system.

Tamahome studied Tasuki carefully when he came to get him for lunch that day, and he was thoroughly convinced that none of it the night before had happened by the way Tasuki was acting when he caught Tamahome's eye and gave him a grin that wasn't like his usual carefree smile. But maybe that was imagined, too, for the next moment it was gone and he was chasing after Miaka for stealing his rice.

Tamahome and Tasuki went on arguing over petty things, but not with the hate they'd had before. Now, it was more like friends quarreling, and overall, they got along.

About a month later, the Seishi had a day off, and they chose—or rather, Miaka chose for them—to go picnicking out by the river. Hotohori couldn't accompany them because of a government official coming by from Bei-Jia, but the rest of them packed a lunch and schlepped down to a sunny spot by the sparkling clear river. It was one of those summer days too perfect to spend cooped inside where the sky was perfectly blue and the grass was at its softest and the flowers were showing off in full bloom and you didn't feel like doing anything except lying around and goofing off. Even the birds were lazily perched on trees and chirping their contentment every so often.

The sun seemed to envelop everything with a fine layer of hazy dust that settled on everything with rays of golden light. Of course Chichiri wanted to fish, and Chiriko decided to go with him, and then Mitsukake had to follow to take care of Chiriko and because Tama wanted fish, too. Miaka wanted to pick flowers at the far edge of the field, and Nuriko decided to along with to see what pretty flowers she could find. Tasuki, who hated water, had flopped down on a grassy spot by a weeping willow tree by the picnic basket. Tamahome, out of sheer boredom than anything else—because he didn't want to fish nor pick flowers—dropped down on the grass to accompany Tasuki.

The distant noises of Chiriko squealing over his first fish—his character was gone—and Miaka and Nuriko having a catfight in the field drifted with the light wind back to the pair of roomies. Tasuki was looking over at Miaka and Nuriko as they bickered and suddenly flowers were flying everywhere, like a rampant cow decided to throw up all over the pair of "women". Tasuki was laughing at them, his usual blithe face back on.

Tamahome, remembering random phrases from a particular night, couldn't help but wonder if Tasuki's act was all a charade.

Personally, Tamahome was feeling a bit cold, though the fact that he was in the shade had nothing to do with it. The day was perfectly warm.

A random bee buzzed by Tamahome's ear, thinking it was a flower and ready to make love to it before Tamahome gave it other intentions when he threw up his arm and waved it away. As his arm was coming up, it accidentally brushed Tasuki's arm and the familiar sensation of his skin prickling struck Tamahome again, the hairs on his arm standing on end. He cautiously looked over at his sitting mate, but Tasuki hadn't seemed to notice as he was encouraging Chiriko to try and fish for himself.

Tamahome now focused on Miaka and Nuriko, who were currently flinging flowers in each other's faces. Funny as it was, all he could focus on was Miaka, and how every time he went to go talk to her now, she wouldn't come near him. "It's because of Suzaku," she would tell him, and understand as he did, Tamahome couldn't help but miss when Miaka was in his arms, and she would tell him it was all right…

But Miaka didn't know about Tamahome's vulnerability. Miaka cried so much over her own troubles, Tamahome couldn't bring himself to break himself down in front of her and give her something else to worry about. He had to be her protector.

But who was to be his?

He was struck suddenly by how close his and Tasuki's hands were to each other. The pair of them were leaning back, using their arms to prop themselves up. Biting his lip, Tamahome carefully slid his hand over. The lush grass tickled his palm as he painstakingly, deliberately made his actions slow. The first of his fingers brushed over Tasuki's and without looking at him, looking anywhere but him, Tamahome hesitantly placed his cold hand over Tasuki's warm one. It wasn't anything to think twice about. All that was going through Tamahome's mind was that he needed someone with whom he could cry to, and not have to keep up this thing of being the all-time-strong hero. And, as unlikely as it could be—as unlikely as Tasuki fit the description of the person he needed—he'd already chosen him.

And that was it.

Tasuki didn't seem to react at first, but then his smile seemed to disappear a little as he dropped his eyes. Tamahome didn't care. Tasuki could remove his hand, and Tamahome would understand. But he didn't.

And after awhile, the tension in his arm loosened, and Tamahome relaxed just a little bit more. And then…and then, Tasuki turned his hand over and interlaced his fingers with Tamahome's. It was so sudden, something that Tamahome knew he wanted as soon as he felt Tasuki's fingers interlace with his own but all the same wasn't expecting in the least. Tasuki's grip wasn't firm, but it wasn't loose either. To Tamahome, it was there, and that was all that mattered. He stole a glance at the bandit's face, and Tasuki was laughing at Nuriko while (s)he chucked flowers by the armload at Miaka, who was yelling shrilly at the top of her lungs, coughing every so often as flower petals got sucked down her throat. The day went on, and between Tasuki and Tamahome, it was like nothing had happened. But the two hands, so simple, and yet so complicated, could prove otherwise.

And then came the day to travel by boat to Bei-Jia.


A/N: Yea, that's about all I have for today. Review and tell me what you think.