Act
A Fushigi Yûgi fanfiction by Sir Psycho Sexy
A/N: My first FY fic. Of course, I decided to make it about Tomo, because I think he's awesome. Oh, and Soi is awesome as well- I didn't mean to bash her in this fic, this is just Tomo's perception of things. Based on anime canon, or my interpretation thereof.
Oh- Tomo-bashing will NOT BE TOLERATED, bitches.
-SPS
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He takes a wet cloth to his face, wiping off the blacks of vengeance and the blues of loyalty. It is the end of the day and he should get his rest.
Tomo had grown up solely in the company of men, being part of a Chinese opera troupe. From an early age, he was expected to be someone or something that he wasn't, to play a part onstage. Even though the opera was notorious for facilitating homosexual relationships, he kept his sexuality a secret, since he was usually cast as the valiant male warrior- something that was less than his real personality.
Slowly, he scrapes off the thick white pancake makeup and dips the cloth in the water dish again. His moves are slow and meticulous, like his performance onstage.
Also, there was something else he had to keep secret from the rest of the opera troupe- the fact that he carried his craft of acting into his powers as a Seiryû seishi. He had the power to manipulate reality, to make his world a stage, a stage in which he was at once smiling director and cackling puppet master. He would then project an avatar of himself into the illusionary world that he had made; sometimes, it would act contrary to who he really was, as the time when his alter tried to manipulate the Priestess of Suzaku. He remained calm and cavalier no matter what; it was just another part to play, after all.
When he met the other Seiryû seishi, he fell in love with Nakago at once. But the woman- that damned prostitute that Nakago was seemingly so keen on- scared him, even though he never showed that to either Soi or Nakago. To Tomo, Soi was the woman who had stolen his love away from him, as well as the personification of the soul-sucking succubus, that few men could resist, and fewer still could escape alive. Her power to control men through sexual intercourse, and either heal them or leave them empty husks, frightened Tomo and kept him firmly on the homosexual side of the fence. But still he worked by her side, for the sake of Kutô.
Half his face has been cleaned off now; he only recognizes half of himself. The clean half is an illusion- or is it the painted half? He doesn't know anymore. To him, life is all an act. It's part of the job, both of being an opera singer and of being one who protects the priestess of Seiryû, even though both are counter-intuitive to who, or what, one may really happen to be.
He takes his hand and slowly feels the clean half of his face. He looks in the mirror and cackles softly; so this is what it looks like to be real? But maybe it isn't…
He shoves the water dish, cloth tucked inside of it, onto the floor. As it breaks in a thousand pieces, Tomo retires to bed.
-FIN