Chapter Eight – Revelation

Miaka pulled away slowly from his warm embrace and stared into his cerulean eyes. She raised her hands to cover her exposed breasts and opened and closed her mouth like a floundering fish. "What..." she stammered, taken aback. "What just happened?"

"Do you need a recap?" he asked, touching her chin lightly, brushing his lips over hers again. She drew a soft breath and this time her lips caught his, her hands dropping away from her chest. He took her wrists into one of his hands and lightly ran his other hand across her collar bones and then downward gradually, as if asking for permission. Finally, he reached her breast and grasped one. She tensed briefly, her kiss halting, but relaxed again as his thumb began to caress her.

Miaka pulled her mouth from his and leaned against him, eyes staring at the wall, her hands still clasped together by his powerful grip. She felt helpless, yet not in danger. She knew this should unnerve her, because of Hokkan, because of everything she knew of him, but at the same time, because of everything she knew of him, she knew that he wouldn't hurt her. He released her hands and breast, wrapping his arms around her, and they rested against each other in silence for a long while.

Finally, he spoke. "I apologize."

"Why?" she questioned, not moving.

"I did not ask permission. I have you at a disadvantage."

"I didn't mind," she admitted, and there was silence again. Her mind was racing. He had kissed her. Her mind scanned possible ulterior motives and came up with none. Either he was incredibly horny and desperate and was hitting on his friend, or was actually attracted to her. She found the former to be out of character and the latter to be... unbelievable. How could such a handsome, successful man – one that was Nakago, her former enemy, now friend and more – be attracted to such a plain, poor and boring young woman such as herself? It was difficult to fathom. "Do you... like me?" she asked quietly.

"Are you simple?" he replied just as quietly.

She pulled away and looked up at him, confused, question in her vulnerable gaze. She had not kissed another man since Tamahome. She had never been touched so intimately. Though she and Tamahome had been close, they had not gone very far physically. They both knew that should they have gotten too far, it would have been difficult to stop, so they avoided that problem by avoiding the situation almost entirely. They had, of course, been engaged to be married, and the date had been set for not too soon after he had passed, but since they never made it to the wedding, they never made it very far with each other's bodies. And she had allowed Nakago. She felt ill suddenly. Had she really wanted to wait until she was married, or had she simply been afraid to give herself so completely to Tamahome? Why did she find the prospect of Nakago actually less frightening? It seemed counterintuitive.

"Despite appearances," he frowned, the little wrinkle between his brows appearing. "I am not the type to prostitute myself for simple pleasure, and even if I were I wouldn't even attempt on you. For one, you are far more likely to refuse me than just about any other woman alive. Secondly, I respect you far too much to be physical with you for the sake of physical aspect alone."

"Really?" she asked. "So, then... that means that you kissed me because you... find me attractive?" she fished, hoping to draw the answer from him.

"If it were only that, I would not have done so. I found Kanu attractive. I find many women attractive, however I do not grope all of them."

"I should hope not," she giggled.

He smirked a little, but didn't respond otherwise. She sighed, knowing she would have to drag the truth from him. "So then why did you kiss me? Opportunity? To make me feel better? Flirting?" She was beginning to think he was being amused by her wild guessing.

"I kissed you because..." he trailed off. "I am not sure."

"You're not sure?" she blinked. "You're never not sure. Are you feeling okay?" she reached up to check his temperature, but he caught her wrist and kissed it gently.

"Perhaps because you are the only person who has truly put me at ease," he said softly against her skin, his eyes peering up at her. "Or because you are the only person who knows of what I am and what I was, and has allowed me to get close to them despite it."

She knew what he meant. If she, who had been so hurt and traumatized by him could forgive him, if she could look beyond it even though she had been on the receiving end of so much pain directly because of him, then perhaps there was hope. He had hurt her best friend, he had killed her seishi, he had destroyed two nations, he had tried to rape her, yet she had looked past it and tried to help him. She had, in fact, dared to love him as a friend. He found her amazing. What he didn't understand was that this was the kind of compassion she offered freely to everybody, not just to him. That wasn't to say she didn't feel for him, but she thought that perhaps he was loving her for the wrong reasons.

"Is that all?" she asked him.

"Is that not enough?" he asked, slightly confused.

"I'm not... it's not that I don't care about you, but... I think maybe you..."

"Love you?" he questioned, slyly throwing the word in to gauge her reaction. She hesitated.

"Maybe you love me for the wrong reasons?" she suggested. "I care about you, but I didn't want to befriend you and forgive you because of that, I did that because you're human. I don't want you to think that... it was because I..." she hesitated again, feeling naked for more than her lack of clothing. "Because I fell for you. I forgave you because you're human and I fell for you because... of who you are now."

"You think my affections so shallow?" he inquired.

"Am I wrong?"

"We shall assume for the moment that I am in love with you," he said, averting his eyes toward the wall for a moment. "It is impressive that you are forgiving and that you found it in your heart to befriend someone such as myself, however, I would not care for you simply because you did that for me, but because you have the capacity to do it for everybody, just happening to include myself. It is remarkable. You harbor no hatred for those who have wronged you, which is more than I can say for myself. It is your character that I am attracted to, not simply the fact that the beauty of character is directed at me."

"Nakago..." she murmured. He smiled vaguely. She still called him that. "I'm hungry."

Had it been anime, and had he been a slightly less inhibited character, he would have fallen over, feet twitching in the air. As it stood, he sighed with amusement, not without a bit of exasperation, and stood up. She pulled her top back on.

"So what does this mean?" Miaka asked. "What are we, now?"

"As per the usual routine, I will be courting you, beginning today." Miaka was amused by the fact that he simply told her what would happen. It was so... Nakago. Nakago didn't ask, he did, and that was part of why she liked him. It was frustrating at times, but also rather assuring, because she knew that she was in capable hands with him. She had always felt safe with Tamahome, but there had been a different dynamic. Neither had ever wanted to concede control to the other. With Nakago, she was content to let him take the wheel for a while, and knew that, despite appearances, he would allow her the same luxury.

"I am going to take a shower," he told her, going into the bathroom. Miaka went over to the extra bedroom and did the same. She was bombarded by a flurry of questions from Nifei as she passed, but was mostly too euphoric to pay it any mind. She had, at times, feared that she would never feel this excitement or anything close to it again. After Tamahome died, her life had ended for a long time, but it seemed like Nakago had been the broom and dustpan for her broken life, and perhaps would now be the glue that would make her whole again. She could only hope, and pray.

Nakago went to the window of the main room, passing Nifei with a nod, and looked outside. The sky was dull and grey and it looked like rain. He knew he would be on the deck because he needed to speak to the captain so he went to get his coat, only to find it wasn't where he had left it.

"Miko," he called to Miaka. "Did you move my coat?"

Miaka stepped out of Nifei's room, wearing only a bathrobe, hair dripping on the carpet. "I haven't seen it. Did you leave it in your room?"

"I took it in for cleaning," Nifei said suddenly. "I'm sorry. I spilled some wine on it and it looked like it might stain so I took it to be cleaned. It should be back later. Do you want me to bring it to you when it's finished?"

"Yes," he said curtly.

Miaka went into her room and closed the door in Nakago's face with a small smile. She dropped her bathrobe and began to dress when Nakago walked into the room behind her. She stared, eyes wide, as he walked past her.

"N-Nakago!" she cried, diving behind the bed. "I'm naked!"

"So?" he retorted, a small smile playing at his lips. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, if you will recall."

"I'm not going to let you see me naked any old time!" she cried, indignant at his intrusion. "What do you want, anyway?"

"There is something suspicious about Nifei," he said. "I don't trust her."

"Why not?" Miaka asked. "She's a little clingy, but mostly harmless. I think she has a crush on you."

"I doubt it," he mused aloud. "But perhaps I am imagining it."

"Why would you be?" she asked, turning away and putting her bra on. "Maybe you're right..." she pulled her shirt on.

"Jealousy," he shrugged. "You were spending a lot of time with her."

"Just how long have you... you know... felt something for me?" she asked suddenly, pulling her underwear on and standing up.

"Define something. I have felt things for you since I knew you. I hated you at first, and then I didn't hate you, but grudgingly accepted, and then I liked you, and now..."

"How long have you... loved me?"

"Who says I love you?" he asked.

"But you said earlier..." she trailed off, looking confused.

"I said hypothetically speaking, I didn't say I did. You intrigue me, Miko-chan, but I am not so quick to profess undying love, even to you," he pulled his shoes on. Miaka pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped on some flip flops.

"So you're intrigued by me?" she blinked.

"Do you have a problem with that?" he stood beside her as she brushed out her hair and got ready to dry it.

Miaka considered. He didn't love her, necessarily, but he didn't not love her. Whatever it was, it was more than physical attraction, but less than undying devotion. Her eyes slid to the side and she looked at his beautiful reflection in the mirror. He did the same, smirking.

"I suppose we can play it by ear," she said. She knew Nakago, though an unusual prodigy in some ways, was also a little slower in others, and that it would take time for him to admit what she could sense was there. In the meantime, she would just continue to be herself to him and hope things didn't get out of hand. She liked him, maybe even loved him, but she didn't think she was ready for the pace of a Nakago romance. She had a suspicion that Nakago was a very physical person.

Her suspicion was proved correct when he swooped down, knocking the dryer from her hand, and kissed her. Her eyes widened and she stared up at him. He smirked and lifted her onto the edge of the counter, sliding between her legs. She blushed to the roots of her hair. One finger ran quickly up her spine, causing her to arch suddenly. She had to struggle to regain herself.

"WHAT are you doing?" she demanded, pushing him away, trying to look angry, even though she was more surprised and turned on than angry.

He grinned. "There is definite potential here."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she slid off the counter, but was only successful in getting closer to Nakago's hips. She blushed and wiggled to the other side of him.

"It means that you are not as cold as I would have imagined. I thought that perhaps your inexperience would keep you frightened enough to keep your distance, but you are fearless as usual. But how far will you allow me to go?" his icy eyes followed her unnervingly.

Miaka blushed further and turned on the hair dryer before she had to answer. She had doubted her control with Tamahome, who, she knew, was also a virgin, and rather clumsy at that. Nakago, on the other hand, obviously knew what he was doing, and knew exactly what to do to make her lose her mind. She had severe doubts about her own control in the beautiful face of somebody who likely could have been a god of sex in a past life. She was a little nervous about sharing a bed with him, now that she realized that he would be pursuing her, in more than one way.

Nakago watched her dry her hair with amusement. The wary look on her face was priceless, almost as if she thought he would pounce her and pleasure her to death or something.

"Well, let's get going," Miaka said. "I'm starving. I can't wait to have breakfast. I think I'm going to have pancakes, and a muffin, and eggs, oh, and some bacon... mmmm..." she fantasized as she headed for the door. Nakago took her arm in his suddenly and she looked up. He looked so very non-chalant and regal, and Miaka felt comforted, somehow. She leaned against him slightly as they walked. From the end of the hall, a pair of narrow eyes watched angrily.

"Tsubara Muji was charged with the murder today," the investigator told Nakago some time later that day. They had been heading toward the indoor tennis courts when they were approached. "It is the only plausible solution. After he was released last night there was another murder in the VIP section."

"I don't believe it," Miaka protested. "You've got the wrong person. Muji wouldn't do it."

"We have motive, means, and we found the murder weapon in his quarters. He used a lethal dose of ordinary medicine."

"What kind of medicine?" Nakago asked.

"An anti-coagulant. It thinned her blood to the point of being unable to absorb enough oxygen."

"Have you done an autopsy, then?" he questioned.

"No, but the medicine bottle was nearly empty and it is consistent with the death and lack of struggle. Look, even without the physical evidence, there was motive, there was means, and there was the fact that another death was discovered after he was released last night."

"Why was he released if he's a suspect?"

"An anonymous note was sent in, saying he had an alibi, so we let him go. I wish we hadn't," he sighed. "Another death because of our gullibility."

"I can't believe this," Miaka shook her head stubbornly. "Why would he kill another passenger? I can understand motive for attempting to kill Nakago, but why the other? And wouldn't Kanu have tasted the medicine in the wine? It doesn't make sense."

"Sorry, little lady," he patted her head and she frowned at his patronizing smile. "But these are the facts. Unless new evidence is brought forth, Muji is going to spend his life in jail."

The inspector left the two alone and they continued, now more slowly, toward the tennis courts. Miaka was in shock. "I'm not wrong," she said.

"I know," he agreed. "But there is no evidence to prove otherwise. The only thing that will get Muji off would be finding the actual murderer.

"Who else could have done this? And why? Maybe it really wasn't just you, maybe it was just a random attack?"

"Let us investigate," Nakago said. "We will visit the crime scene."

"Do you think we'll find anything?" the young woman asked. "If it's as immaculate as the last, there probably won't be anything."

"Unless they got careless," he pointed out.

Miaka nodded and they were headed back toward the VIP deck when a young man ran after Nakago. "Gi-san!" he called. "Gi-san, wait!"

"Yes?" he turned.

"I have something for you," the man reached into his breast pocket. Miaka gasped, her mind immediately formulating multiple unfortunate scenarios involving Nakago ending up dead. She stepped in front of him defensively.

The man pulled out a white envelope and Miaka almost fell over.

"It's a ticket for your coat, Gi-san. Sui-san was unavoidably detained in a meeting with some of her father's employees, but she asked me to give you the ticket."

"Thank you," he said and pocketed it, continuing.

"Why don't you go on without me?" Miaka suggested suddenly. "I'm not really feeling up to seeing another body."

"I'm sure the body has been removed," he pointed out. She continued to look worried. He sighed and handed her the envelope. "I will meet you on the deck shortly to speak to the captain. In the meantime, feel free to retrieve my coat."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically, but was glad for the out. "I'll see you soon."

Miaka headed toward the cleaning services. A strange feeling came over her as Nakago left. She felt like something bad was going to happen. She decided to hurry and get back to Nakago as soon as possible. She picked up the coat, thanked the cleaner, and instead of going to the deck, went directly to the VIP hall.

"This coat weighs a thousand pounds," she complained to herself. She was having a hard time holding it, so she put it on it hopes that it would more evenly distribute the weight. She walked up the stairs and walked down the hall. She wished she knew toward which room she was headed. She saw Nakago open the door and exit one of the rooms.

"Did you find anything?" she came up to him. He chuckled a little at her tiny self attempting to fill out his huge coat. She was a tiny, completely Japanese woman, and he was a fairly large man partially of Scandinavian descent. It was a little ridiculous.

"Just this," he held up another piece of violet ribbon, pocketing it. "Why are you wearing my coat? You look ridiculous."

"Excuse me for not being a Viking," she stuck her tongue out. "But actually, it's kind of comfortable. I think I'll keep it."

"I think not," he caught the belt and pulled her against himself. She squealed and laughed and he picked her up, throwing her tiny form over his shoulder. She giggled and struggled and he carried her up to the deck, eventually setting her down again. "Keep it," he said, walking toward where the captain was dining. Miaka stood by the railing, looking out over the ocean. She felt a vague unease as she stared out over the waters. She had had a dream like this, hadn't she? She had been swallowed by the sea. But that was only a dream, she told herself.

The young woman glanced over at Nakago. She couldn't believe how soft he could be with her. She wondered if maybe this was the man that had been inside all along, but that had been hardened and hidden by the past. She wondered if, without everything that had happened, if he would be as care free and kind as she. She supposed it didn't matter. What mattered was that he had changed and he cared for her. It was no less confusing, but it helped to know she wasn't losing her mind entirely by falling for him.

Nakago was going over to ask for a passenger list when his heart clenched. Something wasn't right. He made a one-eighty and headed toward Miaka, but too slowly. Before he could think another thought, something had exploded and a shrill shriek pierced the air. Miaka had been blasted overboard.