Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi and the associated characters and settings do not belong to me. The plot and any original characters that may appear, however, do.

Warning:The first part of this chapter shows the attempted rape of minors.

Author's Note: Reirei is not an original character. Yuu Watase created her for the Tasuki character novel Genrou Den. The flashbacks/nightmares regarding her and her brother are from Genrou Den, and not something I made up.

He was bound to a golden bed, his wrists and ankles tied and spread out as far as they could go. Keiron, a pale, pudgy man with thickly applied make-up and gold clothing, stood over him, lust shining in his eyes and a dagger in his hand.

The young redhead didn't recognize the look of lust for what it was and was convinced that he was about to die. He glared defiantly and spat insults at the leader of the rival bandit group. He didn't want to die, the thought of it frightened him, but he wouldn't beg for his life, and he wouldn't cry out in terror. If he had to die, he'd do it as a brave man, not a crying child. His mother and sisters had always called him a whiny, sniveling brat. He would prove them wrong, in this last moment of life.

He closed his eyes, resigned to his fate, as the older man came toward him with the dagger again. Then his eyes snapped open at the feel of a tongue sliding across his chest, lapping up the blood the bandit leader had drawn earlier.

"Eeeeeeeee! What're ya doing ta me?" he cried out in panic, his resolve vanishing in the face of Keiron's strange behavior. "Aaaaaaaaaaah! There are people watching!"

"They make it exciting… heh heh."

"Hey, you guys, aren't ya gonna do somethin' about him?" the flame-haired boy demanded, trying to appeal to their sense of decency. Surely they wouldn't just watch. He generally thought of himself as a man, but he was only sixteen. There were a lot of disgusting people in the world, but he couldn't quite believe that anyone would just stand by and watch an adult rape a child.

But they tied ya up this way like they'd done it a buncha times, he thought grimly.

"You can save your life if you do as he says," one of the men advised in a subdued voice. "If ya become the leader's lover, you're guaranteed to live in luxury with three meals a day and an afternoon nap."

"Gaaah! I'd rather die!" the boy spat. It was the truth. Death would be quick and relatively painless. Day after day of being subjected to Keiron's lust… He shuddered at the thought, then forced himself to be still.

"What're ya saying? Don't you hate women? I've done research." The bandit leader, looking delighted, pressed his cheek against the boy's, his hand sliding between his captive's legs and fondling him.

"You got it wrong. I hate men even more!" The boy's panicked yelp echoed in the gold-plated room. He hated women, mainly because of his mother and sisters, but he wasn't attracted to men. And even if he had been, this situation would still be rape.

"What're ya doing?" a female voice demanded. Then the boy found himself pinning the owner of the voice to the golden bed, straddling her hips. The sudden change in position and situation was disorienting.

"Reirei?" he whispered in confusion and sick horror as he recognized the girl. Why was he holding her down like this, like he was about to force himself on her?

Then the girl beneath him changed. She became older, a sixteen-year-old near woman rather than a fourteen-year-old child, and her hair went from black to auburn, and her eyes from brown to green. Her features and hairstyle changed as well, while still remaining similar.

"I hate you for doing such a dirty thing," Miaka said in Reirei's voice, while silent tears, each one a painful blow to his heart, ran down her cheeks.

Genrou jerked awake with a harsh cry of denial, sitting up in bed before he had even shaken off the last vestiges of his nightmare. The nightmares had haunted him off and on for the past six years, though he had gone for nearly a year before this one. Most of them were a vile union of his own near rape of nine years ago with the near rape of Miaka six years ago.

"I betrayed 'em both," he murmured to himself. Reirei, who had saved him from her own brother, and Miaka, the girl he loved. He clenched his fists, short nails digging into his palms. Taka and Miaka had forgiven him, had held him close and cried after he had used his tessen on himself. For that, he would always love and cherish them, but deep in his heart, he still felt guilty. He still felt like he needed to atone somehow.

"Ya didn't betray anyone, Genrou," a voice, the one from his dream, said with a blend of compassion and annoyance.

He turned a bit to look at the speaker. She was fourteen, would forever be fourteen, because even with his enhanced speed, he hadn't been fast enough to save her. She had died getting the tessen to him, in effect giving her life for his.

"Reirei," he said softly. "How can ya even stand ta be near me after what I did?"

"They forgave ya, Genrou. Ya apologized to 'em over an' over, an' they forgave ya."

"No they didn't," Genrou said, looking away from her. "They made excuses for me, an' forgave me based on 'em. They didn't forgive me for givin' in ta what was already inside o' me."

"Genrou-" Reirei started to say.

"No more, Reirei," he said, cutting her off. "No more tryin' ta make me feel better. There's no point ta it. Yer just a figment o' my imagination."

Reirei had been dead for nine years. Her spirit surely would have been reincarnated by now. The Reirei that had been with him for the past six years was just a hallucination. She had to be. He tried to ignore her, and even managed to do it when he was around other people, but when he was alone, he couldn't seem to stop himself from talking to her like she was real.

He accepted his own mental instability and probable hallucinations and tried not to let them, or his feelings of guilt, interfere with his duties as the leader of the Mt. Reikaku bandits. Hakurou had chosen him as his successor, and he had promised Reirei that he would stay as the leader after he fulfilled his duty as a Celestial Warrior of Suzaku.

He took a deep breath to clear his mind and got out of bed, slipping into a pair of white pants and black boots with scarlet trim. Kouji often teased him about taking as long as a girl to get dressed, but he saw nothing girly in liking to look good.

He chose a shirt of emerald green silk, then pawed through his collection of jewelry, putting on his usual pair of earrings before deciding on a necklace. After a few moments of thinking it over, he picked out a pearl necklace accented with rubies and amber. He wasn't the narcissist that Hotohori had been, but he had a good sense of fashion and enjoyed dressing well if he had the chance.

"Damn, am I hot or what?" he asked his reflection, grinning. "ACK!"

Something slammed into his side, sending him sprawling to the ground with a warm weight holding him down. The weight shifted slightly and moaned, brushing the hair from its face to stare directly into Genrou's eyes.

"Mi… Miaka…" he whispered hoarsely. It had been six years for him since he had last seen her, but he knew time moved differently between their worlds. It could have been anything from one day to ten years for her. He was guessing about four years, though. When last they had seen each other, she had still been a girl verging on womanhood, her childish cuteness giving way to adult beauty, like a bud still in the process of unfurling into a radiant blossom.

Now she was all woman, her gleaming auburn hair flowing free and framing a face that was both delicate and strong in its adult beauty. Her eyes, as green as his shirt, gazed at him with a medley of different emotions.

She's so… He was overwhelmed with emotion and closed his eyes to keep from looking at her, but he could still smell her. Her scent was the distilled essence of warmth, kindness, and laughter. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, to bury his face in her soft hair.

"Tasuki," Miaka said softly. He opened his eyes and gazed up at her, noticing the blood on her ear. He wanted to lick it away, to take her wounded flesh into his mouth and suck away her pain.

Keiron lapped at the blood on his chest, his tongue warm and wet as it caressed the boy beneath him.

Genrou violently shoved Miaka away from him, twisting onto his knees and fighting the urge to throw up. I'm just like him. I'm just like that perverted bastard.

"Tasuki!" Miaka cried out in alarm.

He forced himself to grin as he looked at her. "Ah-hahaha… I'm fine, Miaka. You just got me in the gut with yer knee."

"I'm sorry, Tasuki," she said, sounding miserable. She knew he was lying, but she went along with it, because acknowledging what she had seen in his eyes would only hurt him.

Oh, Tasuki, she thought sadly. You still love me so much. And you still blame yourself for what happened, don't you? He had gazed at her with eyes so full of love that the intensity of it had been painful to see. Then it had changed to revulsion, directed inward. I should tell him that I really do understand.

She opened her mouth, then shut it, fighting back tears. She couldn't do it. She couldn't tell him about her own experience that let her understand what Hikou's spell had done to him. The shame of what she had done, even after all these years, was still too great to allow her to speak of it.

Genrou winced at her subdued, apologetic tone. Great, just great. Now I've got her feelin' bad for somethin' she didn't actually do. But what th' hell else was I s'posed ta say? 'Gee, sorry for tossin' ya aside like that an' tryin' not ta puke, but I just reminded myself o' the guy who tried to rape me when I was the same age you were when I tried to rape ya.'

"Awww, don't be sad, Miaka," he said, feeling even more guilty as he saw that she looked about to cry. "Ya got here just in time for breakfast."

"Fooood!" she shouted happily, her stomach sending her rushing from the room before her mind even finished processing his words.

He blinked a couple of times. "Heh, an' here I thought I was the one with th' super speed. Good ta see she's pretty much still the same old Miaka, though."

He took a deep breath and got to his feet. For her sake, he would pretend to be the same old guy from eight years ago, when she had first come to their world. He didn't want to burden her with the knowledge of what a sick, pathetic bastard he was. And, more selfishly, he didn't want to see revulsion and hatred in her eyes when she looked at him.

The blue-haired monk had already been awake and traveling for hours when he felt Miaka's ki once again in their world. He stopped walking and concentrated. She was on Mt. Reikaku with Tasuki. She'd be safe for now, while he attended to business.

But I need to hurry, no da, he thought. Dark things had been set into motion, and he had the strong feeling that something devastating would happen if he wasn't there to meet them when Tasuki and Miaka left the safety of Mt. Reikaku. Just hang on you two, I'll be there as soon as I can.

Several hours later, Kouji hunted down his boss and loudly announced himself.

"Knock, knock. Who's there? It's Kouji, Genrou's best friend and soon to be temporary leader of Mt. Reikaku. Come right in and have a drink, Kouji. Thank you, I think I will."

Genrou snorted and poured a drink for Kouji as the blue-haired bandit let himself into the small room. There was only room in it for a pair of comfortable chairs with a small table between them. The bandit leader used it when he wanted to talk privately or when he just wanted some time mostly to himself.

He was currently there for the latter reason, thinking about Miaka. It was now evening, and the focus of his thoughts was fast asleep in a guest room. She had tried to stay awake, chatting with him about her life, but it had been night in her world and she had eventually succumbed to exhaustion.

"I guess I don't have ta tell ya that I'm going ta be headin' out," Genrou said, taking a drink of sake.

Kouji nodded as he sat in the chair across from him. "Yeah, I figured. If the priestess is here, that means somethin' is up, and you need to protect her."

"We need ta find Chichiri. He's good at figurin' shit out," Genrou said, uncharacteristically serious and subdued. The monk would drop in from time to time for a visit, and Genrou would occasional go on vacation from the bandits and travel with him, but it had been roughly a year and a half since they had last seen each other. He had no idea where the other Celestial Warrior was.

"What's wrong, Genrou?" Kouji asked.

"Yeah, it ain't like ya to show this side o' yerself ta anyone other than me, not even Kouji," Reirei commented. Genrou refused to even look in her direction. The only way to keep everyone from knowing about his hallucinations was to never acknowledge them around others.

He was silent for a moment, then began to speak, his voice soft. "She's almost twenty-one now. She's been married ta Tama for close to three years, and they've got a little girl a month shy o' being two."

Kouji stared into his drink. "I know a little bit of how you feel. I loved Reirei, and she just wanted to be my friend. You were the one she loved."

"I tried my best ta get th' two of you together, but you can't control how other people feel."

"I know ya did, Genrou. That's about when I figured out that you ain't as dumb and tactless as you let on. Though it took me a minute to realize that you were winkin' at me to let me know you were matchmaking. At first I thought you were comin' on to me."

Genrou choked on his sake, his eyes going huge. Kouji's laughter at his expense blended with Reirei's. Great, even my hallucination is laughin' at me, he thought, shaking his head with a slight smirk as he reached behind his back for the tessen.

He generally didn't flame normal people unless they were enemies, but that didn't mean he couldn't whack Kouji over the head with it. He did just that, and then it was his laughter that filled the room.

Genrou sat on the bed in his room, lost in thought as he expertly rethreaded a needle. His sisters had forced him to learn many feminine skills as a child, including sewing and altering clothing.

He had already finished making changes to a set for Miaka and was now finishing up the alterations on his own clothing from eight years ago. He was twenty-five now, and both taller and broader in the shoulder than when he had last worn the outfit he was working on.

Maybe if I'm wearin' this, we can both pretend I'm seventeen again, he thought glumly. He wanted Miaka to think of him as the dependable guy who had played at being her big brother during her first visit to his world, and not as the love struck moron who had tried to rape her and kill the love of her life during her second visit.

"I'm still surprised that you can sew," Reirei said, watching him in fascination as she perched on his dresser.

He grunted in reply. "What dya expect from a guy raised with five sisters? I was bound ta pick up some girly stuff."

He finished his work and set the clothing aside for the moment, trying to ignore Reirei. He had worked all through the night and it was now almost time to get on their way. He had deliberately kept himself from sleeping.

I don't even want to think about th' nightmares I'd've been likely to have, he thought with a slight shudder as he allowed himself to fall back across his bed. Then he snorted in disgust at his own weakness. Real brave, Shun'u, scared o' a couple o' dreams.

He'd rarely thought of himself by his birth name since being given the name Genrou by Hakurou, but it fit his current thoughts. The name reminded him of all of the times he'd awakened in the night, terrified after dreaming that he had faded away, becoming as unnoticeable and unremarkable as his father.

Genrou let his eyes close for a moment. It was time to get past the silly nightmares and childishness of Shun'u and to put Genrou the Mt. Reikaku bandit away as well.

Tasuki, the Celestial Warrior of Suzaku, opened his eyes and got to his feet, his thoughts fully focused on his priestess. It was time to finish getting ready and find Chichiri, so they could protect their priestess and return her safely home.