Chapter Nine – Two for Tragedy

Nakago had headed toward Miaka just in time to see an explosion that sent her flying overboard. He didn't know where it had come from, but for the first time in a long while, his heart clenched with fear. She could be dead. The thought made him feel ill. With barely a thought to consequence he dove in after her. As his body hit the ice cold water he opened his eyes and maneuvered around gracefully, searching for the lost young woman.

He reached out his senses for her distinct aura but felt nothing. This could not have happened. His mind began to fog with panic, but he forced himself to calm. Panic would only hurt his chances of finding her. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to float. He vaguely heard the people on deck yelling man overboard. He listened to every movement; the fish, the rushing of the boat is it was ground to a slow halt. Suddenly, he heard a tiny movement, a soft thud that could only be classified as a Miaka sound, and he looked down and to the right and there she was, slowly sinking into the abyss, her body hitting everything it passed.

He dove for her, determined to save her if it was the last thing he did. With the speed of a trained swimmer, he reached her, and with the strength and determination of two lifetimes, he pulled her to the surface. An inner tube was thrown to them and they were dragged back on board.

Nakago set the injured woman on the deck and checked her vitals. She had no pulse, she wasn't breathing, and she was bleeding profusely. Calmly, he turned to the man beside him. "She needs a doctor, quickly."

"Yes, sir!" the man ran off to find one. Nakago removed the soaking wet and shredded coat from her body so she wouldn't get tangled in it, and leaned down and clasped her nose, breathing into her mouth, then placing his hands onto her chest and compressing several times. He breathed into her again, transferring all the strength he could muster to her. Ever since the little excursion in the book with Miaka, he had found that he had more control over his chi than he had previously. He had done some research and discovered that most of the Seishi that had been resurrected had gained some of their past power in their life, most notably Nuriko, who had suddenly regained his old strength, or so Tomo had told him. Whatever the cause, he was thankful for it, and forced his chi into Miaka's cold, limp body.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Nakago turned her to her side and hit her back until she began to cough up the water she had inhaled. After she finished choking he laid her down in his lap, trying to warm her. Though it was summer, the northern waters were still chilly, and she was already in shock because of the suddenly loss of blood.

"She's seizing!" somebody yelled as the doctor came onto deck. The doctor, a tall, comely woman advised the passengers to step back.

"Are you her husband?" the woman asked, looking at the wet Nakago trying unsuccessfully to look unconcerned.

"We are not married, but..." he trailed off. What were they? They weren't exactly lovers, and he seemed a bit old to be referred to as her boyfriend. He chuckled darkly. Now was not the time to be thinking of this. If she didn't live he wouldn't have to worry about what their technical label was. He would be widowed before they even had a chance to consider marriage.

Nakago blinked. Where had that thought come from?

"Brace her head," the doctor said gently as Miaka's body shook violently. "I will keep her from jarring the injury. Now, tell me what happened."

"There was an explosion," he said flatly. "She was thrown overboard. When she surfaced she was not breathing, so I did CPR."

"You did a good job, um, Mr.?"

"Gi," he replied.

"Gi-san," she smiled. "All right, she's stopped seizing, let's get her to the medical wing. Can you lift her to the gurney?"

He nodded and gently lifted her onto the stiff cot, and some of the medical staff carried her away.

"What is the girl's name?" the woman asked as they followed the staff. "We need her medical records."

"Yuuki Miaka," he replied.

"Miaka is going to be just fine," she smiled. "I can tell, she's a fighter."

"You have no idea..."

Miaka had been taken in for emergency surgery. The explosion had given her a few mild burns on her legs and arms and had lodged some shrapnel into her abdomen. The doctor had told Nakago that the injuries were severe, but that she had a good prognosis. She was healthy and strong and would probably make a full recovery, with the right care. Nakago stood outside the operating room quietly. He was worried, admittedly, but he was not going to show it. He watched the clock surreptitiously, silently willing it to move faster.

He sighed and eventually sat down, weary and distraught. He hated the fact that he was so attached to the waif of a girl, but he was. It was a cruel twist of irony that the one person (well, she had been on the top three) he would have loved to see dead in his past life was now desperately hanging onto her life, and was the one person, now, that he would most like to see live. The kicker was that there was nothing he could do. He had been boxed out of the operating room by the doctor in her gentle-but-definite way and had not been inclined to argue. He had known of many instances where people who had done such a thing had been arrested and he was not eager to be that much further from her.

The former Shogun glared at the clock again. It had only been fifteen minutes. He closed his eyes in an attempt to ignore the painfully slow passage of time, but all he could see was Miaka being blown overboard again and again, though this time not coming up, just dying there, alone in the water. Where had the explosion come from, he wondered. The deck had not been notably damaged, so that meant that the device had to have been... in his coat? He swore to himself and stood up. Miaka had taken the explosion meant for him. But who could have planted such a thing without his knowing? He surely would have noticed if somebody had touched him or his coat.

But it had been at the cleaners. Nifei had taken it to the cleaners and then Miaka had picked it up. Perhaps somebody in the laundry had done it? But who would, and why? He paced back and forth in front of the operating room doors. The first murder had occurred by wine, taken from the pantry, and the next one had been a similar care package. Nakago put his hand in his pocket and removed the purple ribbon he had found. He wondered if he would find the same calling card at the scene of this crime. One of the employees walked by and Nakago grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Sir?" the young man asked.

"Go to the main deck. There was an accident there. I want you to bring the remainder of the coat the victim was wearing to me."

"Why, sir?" he questioned.

"It's my coat."

The man nodded and trotted off to do so. Nakago sat down once again. After what seemed like eternity and a few hours, the doctor came out with a tired smile on her face. "She's okay," she said.

Nakago involuntarily relaxed.

"The explosion caused some minor burns on her legs and abdomen, and her left hand, and lodged some shrapnel into her. I managed to clean the wounds and dress them, and get all of the debris. However..."

Nakago stood up. "However?"

"There was a lot of damage to her abdomen. Some of the pieces were lodged in her uterus and fallopian tubes. Now, she's going to live, but... there will probably be some scarring internally, and, well... there's no easy way to say this. There's a 70 chance that she will never be able to have children. I'm sorry."

The blonde could only nod. It was like the floor had dropped out from beneath him and he was left, unsupported by anything but his own waning strength. This would devastate her. He knew that she loved children and had always wanted them, and to be unable to bear them... it would break her heart.

"I can tell her, or you can, if you think it will be easier on her," the doctor said, pulling off her operating gown and gloves.

"I will tell her," he said quietly. "Can I see her?"

"She's being moved to recovery right now. I'll take you in there."

Nakago was taken to the recovery room and walked numbly toward her. She looked even tinier than usual. She was pale from blood loss, and was wrapped in bandages. He touched her hand and her eyes slowly opened. She smiled. "Nakago."

"Miaka," he nodded.

"I feel like I've been hit by a truck or twelve," she laughed weakly, grimacing as the movement caused her more pain that she expected. "How are you? You're wet."

He hadn't even noticed that he was still wet.

"You should change... you'll catch a cold."

"No, I won't," he said quietly.

"You're not invincible, stupid," she said with a smile.

"I won't get a cold because I wasn't exposed to the virus," he said flatly. She laughed again and then whimpered in pain.

"Stay here," he said, not without a little amusement, while he went to find the doctor. She tried not to laugh. He happened upon her doing dictation. "Is there anything more you can give her for the pain?"

"I'm afraid not," she said. "She's a small girl on a very high dose of pain medication. Anything more and she won't be lucid at all."

He nodded and returned to Miaka, pulling up a chair to her side and sitting down. She opened her eyes again, smiling and reaching for his hand. "The doctor told me you saved me," she said. "That you pulled me out and did CPR."

He nodded silently.

"Thank you."

"You would do the same for me, I'm sure," he said to her, avoiding her gaze.

She knew something was wrong by the way he wouldn't look at her. "What did the doctor say about me? Am I going to be okay."

"You'll live," he said.

"That's good to know," she chuckled slightly. "Am I going to work correctly? I'll be able to walk and everything, right?"

Nakago looked down.

"Nakago? What is it?" she questioned. "What did the doctor say?"

"You'll be able to walk. You only sustained some minor burns on your legs."

"Then why does it feel like somebody just walked over my grave?" she looked pleadingly at him. "Nakago... tell me. Please."

He took her hand more firmly in his, placing the other on top. "The doctor said," he began quietly. "That while you will recover, it's likely that your reproductive organs were permanently damaged."

"Meaning?" she asked, feeling nauseated.

"There is a good chance that you will never be able to bear children."

"Oh..." she said. "Is that all?"

"That is what the doctor said."

"Well, I guess I'm lucky. I could be dead, right?" she laughed in a strained sort of way. "I'm alive and that's what matters. I think... I'm tired. I'm going to sleep for a while, Nakago. Could you leave me alone?"

He nodded and stood up, looking down at her with concern. The second he was out of sight he heard her begin to sob.

Miaka felt her stomach drop at his words: a good chance. How good of a chance was there? How could the word good be placed in that sentence? Her thoughts began to race. She was supposed to have children. She knew that something important hinged on her having a child; had known that since she had been drawn into the book the first time. She felt her eyes welling with tears and rattled off some lines about being lucky to be alive and sent Nakago off. The second he was out of sight she began to cry.

She wanted to bury herself in a hole and never emerge. Whoever had been trying to kill Nakago had, in a way, killed her instead. She wanted children. She knew she needed children; maybe just one, and she knew it had to happen, but now it couldn't. She felt like she had failed fate.

She had had a vision before. She had been walking through a beautiful place, with trees and flowers and flowing water, and she had been with all the people she loved, and as she walked things began to disappear in a void. It wasn't as if the light had simply caused things to disappear; it was as if reality itself were disappearing beneath her feet, and suddenly she was left all alone. There was a faint star in the distance, and as she sunk further down in despair, it disappeared. She didn't know what it meant, but it had haunted her.

Now, she was left with confusion and the possibility that she would be unable to procreate. She felt so very lost. She wished Tamahome were with her to comfort her and help her know what to do, but instead she was alone. She closed her eyes and shook with pain and sorrow until she was exhausted, and fell into restless sleep.

"Miaka," a gentle voice called. "Miaka."

"Who's there?" she asked. "Nakago?"

"No," he replied. Miaka looked around. She was, again, floating in a sort of void, though not a dark and empty one like her vision. This place had a warm, light feeling. She felt a hand caress her cheek softly and a slim form materialized before her.

"Tamahome," she gasped. "Are you alive?"

"No," he smiled, brushing her hair from her face and touching her skin lightly. She reached out to touch him and her hand floated through him.

"A ghost?" she questioned.

"A spirit," he told her. "What remains of me now that my body is gone; the part of me that has moved on to the other plane."

"You're still dead," she whimpered, feeling his touches, wanting to know why she couldn't touch him. "I need you. Why did you leave me?"

"I didn't leave you," he said. "I went to be with my mother, and your father – he's better now, and all the others who have passed into heaven. I've only crossed the screen that separates these planes. I'm not that far from you."

"How are you here?" she was crying now.

"Taiitsukun wanted me to deliver a message to you," he explained. "She wanted me to tell you not to give up hope, that you will be happy."

"How?" she sobbed. "I lost you. I lost you, Tamahome, and I lost..."

"You haven't lost as much as you think, and you have gained something else."

"Nakago?" she asked.

He nodded calmly. Nakago wouldn't be his first choice for her; he would rather see her with Hotohori or even Tasuki, but this was ordained long ago. She and Tamahome were never meant for each other forever.

"Are you angry?"

"I know he's changed," the spirit of Tamahome said. "I know he loves you, though he does not know it yet. And I know that you love him."

"I'm sorry..." she looked down.

He touched her chin and she looked up. "It was fate that you would meet this way. Miaka," he said firmly. "I know you want to hold on to me, but you have a lot of life to live still. Don't give up hope. As long as there's hope, there's possibility."

Tamahome's form began to fade. "Don't go!" she cried, but he smiled and kissed her forehead, and then he was gone.

When she awoke from her dream, Nakago was there, and she pulled him close and cried, and he held her.

The doctor came by later and told Miaka that the faster she heals, the better her chance of minimizing scars on her organs would be. She nodded and told her that she'd do her best to rest and the doctor said that they would move her back to her room after a night of observation.

"I'm going," Nakago said.

Miaka closed her eyes as Nakago left. She didn't want him to go, but he was walking away from her without a word. She wondered if perhaps he was too different from her for it to work. He saw life only as a cold and scientific thing; something in which you are only surviving, but she saw life as time to help others. She tried to not start crying again. She was alone and hurting and she wanted somebody to hold her.

"Are you crying again?" a cool voice asked. Miaka opened her eyes and saw the blonde leaning down over her face.

She blinked. "You're back!"

"Did you honestly think I would leave you here to chew on your stitches?" he chuckled and dropped something soft in her lap.

Miaka gasped and then laughed, not caring that it caused her pain, and held her little teddy bear. Somehow, Hotohori had been reincarnated with the same bear. It was ancient now. They had discovered, later, that the book was not another world, in itself, but that it was a gateway to an alternate past. Hotohori had passed the bear down to his descendants and had, in fact, been his own progenitor, in a way. Thousands of years had passed, but the bear had been miraculously preserved due to the special treatment Boushin had given it. It was almost as if a spell had been placed upon it. Upon regaining his memory, Hotohori decided right away to find Miaka and return what was rightfully hers. She hugged it tightly.

Nakago smiled vaguely, satisfied.

"Will you..." she started looking up. His eyes were cold and he wore a frown as usual, but she could tell that his expression was simply serving as a mask. She knew he wouldn't deny her request. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

"I hadn't planned on going back to the room without you," he informed her, wedging his hands lightly beneath her and moving her slightly to the right in the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, wincing as he bumped her injuries.

"Going to bed," he said. "It is getting rather late." Miaka protested weakly as he pushed aside her IV tubes and monitors and joined her on the tiny mattress. She stared at him as he sandwiched himself between her and the railing of the bed. She knew he had to be becoming closely acquainted with the rail because he was barely touching her and he was a sizable man. He draped his arm over her chest and kicked his shoes off, closing his eyes without a word.

"Nakago..." she mumbled. "Isn't that uncomfortable?"

"Extremely," he said matter-of-factly. "Can you breathe with my arm across you?"

"Yes, but... I mean..."

"Do you mind? I'm trying to sleep," he said to her.

Miaka knew that he had sensed her concern for his comfort and was telling her that it didn't matter in his own way. The young woman smiled. "There's more room near me, you can scoot in."

Silently, he did so. Miaka reached up and brushed the stunning blonde hair from his face. He opened his eyes, looking at her blankly. "Thank you," she whispered, smiling slightly.

"Good night," he said to her and closed his eyes. No more words were said.