Chapter Three
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.
Author's Note: It's never flat out stated in Genrou Den that Reirei's staff can be controlled by her will, but it's implied when she makes it change size and when she throws it and has it come back to her hand.
I tried to research for fruit trees that might have grown on mountains in ancient China, and all I could really find were references to peaches, and I'm not sure if they would have grown in mountains in ancient times or not.
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to Lady Lark for her help defeating the dreaded writer's block.
…
The soft light of dawn had just begun to illuminate the slopes of Mt. Reikaku as Tasuki and Miaka set out. The priestess sat behind her warrior on a brown gelding, her arms wrapped his waist to keep her balance. A dark brown mare followed behind with their supplies.
Everything from Miaka's world, except for the gold hoop earring in her left ear, had been left behind. Her hair had been pulled back into an efficient braid, and she was now wearing a bluish-white blouse, black trousers, green knee-high boots, and a tan vest. It was all very practical, yet feminine, and Miaka had been surprised when she'd heard from Kouji that it had all been men's clothing before Tasuki had taken scissors and sewing supplies to it.
Tasuki himself was dressed in the same clothing he had worn when they had first met. Black boots with red ankle bands, cream trousers, a white shirt, and a long midnight blue coat with teal trim.
Miaka rested her head against the familiar coat, breathing in Tasuki's comforting scent. She was glad he had decided to wear the old familiar clothing. It let her think of him as the playful, protective older brother from her first visit, rather than the intense, lovesick young man from her second.
She didn't fear him, she knew full well that he would never have tried to force himself on her if not for Hikou's spell, but it was easier to travel with him without constantly being aware of the fact that he loved her, and there was nothing she could do for him without betraying Taka.
Taka, she thought, lifting one arm to lightly touch her earring. Where are you? Why haven't you contacted me yet?
She let her hand fall away from her ear and snake back around Tasuki as she leaned against him. She wanted to go home – where Taka and Hikari and Yui and Keisuke were all waiting for her. Why hadn't Taka used her other earring to contact her yet?
Tasuki had been stiff and uncomfortable from the moment she had gotten on the horse behind him, and her cuddling against him hadn't helped matters any. As her hand slid back around him and she leaned into him, he decided it was time to change things.
This is fuckin' ridiculous. I ain't even actin' like myself. All worked up over a damn dream and Miaka bein' back here, he thought, utterly disgusted with himself. I'm a man, damn it, not a wounded deer. She's in love with Tama, an' that ain't gonna fuckin' change. I'm just one o' her warriors and she thinks o' me as a brother. An' that's just what I'm gonna act like, even if it kills me.
He put his right hand over her hands, offering comfort. "Don't worry, Miaka. I don't know why yer back here instead o' where ya belong, but I swear I'll getcha back ta your husband an' little girl. Ya can count on me."
"I know, Tasuki," she said softly, tightening her arms around him in a hug. "I've always been able to count on you."
He shuddered slightly with longing at the contact, feeling even more disgusted with himself, due to both his reaction and the memory of a time when she hadn't been able to count on him. "Not always," he murmured.
She squeezed him tighter. "Always. When I'm with you, I'm always warm and safe." And when I close my eyes, being with you feels like I'm with Taka.
Tasuki took a deep, shuddering breath. No more o' this emotional shit. It's big brother time. He slowed the gelding to a stop, the mare behind them copying her brother's actions.
"Tasuki?" Miaka said in alarm, afraid her words had hurt him, as he gently pulled her arms away from him. He turned and motioned for her to get off, helping her down before dismounting as well.
"It's light enough now for a bit o' practice," he announced, pulling an ornamental hairpin from his pocket. He concentrated on it, smirking at Miaka's gasp of surprise as it suddenly lengthened into a staff a little over six-and-a-half feet long. "This belonged ta a friend o' mine named Reirei. I'm gonna teach ya how ta use it."
"Why?" Miaka asked, taking it as he held it out to her.
"I'm pretty damn tough an' can do a lo o' damage, but I'm just one guy. Even when Chichiri shows his ass, it'll just be the two o' us, an' there's no telling what we'll be up against. So ya got ta be able ta defend yourself, other than runnin' at people an' smackin' 'em with that hard head o' yours," he explained, lightly rapping his knuckles against her skull.
She glared at him, but he just flashed her a fangy grin and positioned her hands correctly on the staff. Then his expression turned serious again as he drew the tessen.
He couldn't help laughing as Miaka's eyes went wide at the sight of the metal fan. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna burn ya. I only do that ta enemies an' Tama. I wanna see whatcha can already do, so I'm gonna take a few light swings at ya an' see if ya can block 'em."
She did well against his slow strikes, but started tripping over her own feet once he sped things up. She ain't too bad, though, for a first timer.
"So yer still clumsy, I see," he said with a grin. She glared and threw the staff at him. He promptly crouched and kicked out with his leg, using it to sweep her feet out from under her.
"AAAAH!" She fell flat on her rear, still glaring daggers at him. He stood and moved close to her before kneeling.
"Never," he said, lightly tapping the tip of her nose, "throw a staff. Well, at least not most of 'em. This one ya can actually get away with it, if ya know what yer doin'."
He stood again and picked up the staff, launching it into the air in one swift motion. He heard Miaka's startled gasp as he willed it to suddenly twist to the right of where it had been thrown, knocking a ripe peach from its tree before twirling back toward Tasuki.
Before it reached him, there was a blur of movement and several phantom images of the Celestial Warrior as he ran to the tree, catching the peach before it could hit the ground. Then, in a flash, he was back where he had started, catching the staff in his upraised hand.
He shrank the staff back to its hairpin form and tossed the peach at Miaka, laughing as she leaped up and caught it in her mouth, like a dog catching a ball. Watching her practically inhale the fruit reminded him of something, and he went back to the tree, collecting several peaches.
"When we were all in Sairou, I gotcha a bunch o' peaches as an apology. Thought we could share 'em, but there was never a chance."
"An apology for what?" she asked, truly mystified as to what he might have done in Sairou that could have upset her.
He stared at his feet, looking embarrassed. "I… uh, insulted yer cookin', 'member?"
She stared at him blankly for a moment, then her eyes widened slightly. She had been upset about his comments, but it had been Tamahome's reaction that had hurt and stuck with her. "I remember now. Heh. I guess it was pretty bad though, wasn't it?" she said sheepishly. Then she brightened. "Well, nothing says you can't share apology peaches with me now."
He grinned. "My thoughts exactly."
He managed to get his coat off without dropping any of the fruit, he knew better than to give food to Miaka for safekeeping, and spread it out on the ground for them to sit on. Once they were both settled, he put the peaches on the coat on his right, and handed one to Miaka, who was to his left.
"I've been taking classes, and I taste test now, so my cooking is better," she said, managing, for once, to eat slowly.
"Well, it couldn't 've gotten any worse," Tasuki said cheerfully. "Poor Tama. After ya ran out, he ate all ya made. He turned all these funny colors, an' afterwards he made a buncha noises like he was gonna die. But he deserved it, after bein' such an ass ta ya."
Miaka was torn between mortification, laughter, and the urge to hit him. She decided to give in to the latter two, laughing as she smacked him across the back of the head.
"Whatdya do that for?" he asked mournfully, looking like a kicked puppy about to cry. "An' after I went ta all the trouble ta make ya nice clothes an' look after ya." He sniffled.
"I'm so sorry," Miaka whispered, wilting in abject misery. "You've been really nice to me, and-"
"Bwahahahaha! You're still so easy to tease," he said with a grin as he ruffled her hair. "I've been punched inta walls by Nuriko. A little swat from ya ain't gonna hurt me or my feelin's."
"You jerk!" she cried, punching at him. The laughter in her voice betrayed the fact that she wasn't really angry. "Seriously, though, thank you for the clothes. They're wonderful."
"Eh, they're just travelin' stuff," he said, looking slightly embarrassed. "If we needed ta impress people, I woulda made ya somethin' really stylish. 'Specially if I coulda gotten some good material ta use an' time to plan out a design."
"You can design clothing?"
"Ya shouldn't be so surprised. I've always been the best dressed of the Suzaku Celestial Warriors. The only one who even came close ta me was Hotohori, and he mostly ran around in a dress-looking thing an' weird-ass shoes. An' he had that fuckin' box on his head that he claimed was a hat."
Tasuki smiled as she fell into gales of helpless laughter at his description of what Hotohori had usually worn. They'd have to get moving again soon, but for now, it was good to just sit with her and listen to her laugh.
…
The twilight shadows of dusk had just begun to creep over the land when the Suzaku Celestial Warrior Chichiri reached the end of the trail he had been following. He studied the fallow field with a grim sense of urgency. If he didn't find anything out from this location, there was no telling how long it would take to get information. He had the increasing certainty that he had to get to Miaka and Tasuki before night fell, or his brother warrior would pay the price for his absence.
I can't let him get hurt again… he thought as he removed his mask, tucking it into his kesa before closing his eye and concentrating. The highest accumulation of evil was coming from the barn. He tightened his grip on his shakujou, the metal rings of the ornamental head jingling, and strode toward the barn.
The interior was thick with a miasma of shadows that seemed to suck the heat from his body and to somehow cut him off from Suzaku. The lowing of distressed cattle could be heard as if from a great distance, overlaid by whispering echoes of overlapping laughter.
"Welcome" "Welcome" "Little monk of" "Welcome" "Little monk of Suzaku" "Suzaku" "Little monk of Suzaku." The same whispered voice, its words overlapping and echoing.
"Welcome, little monk of Suzaku," the voice drifted clearly through the darkness as a figure slowly appeared. The voice was like a pond at midnight – dark, tranquil, and full of hidden dangers. The center of the barn did not lighten so much as become somewhat less dark, allowing Chichiri a good view of the creature that had set all into motion.
It was no creature after all, but a woman. Her hair was as black as a demon's soul, her lips as red as ripe cherries, and her skin the hue of freshly fallen snow. Eyes like obsidian from the depths of hell shone from her pale visage.
"Who are you?" Chichiri asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"My identity was traded long ago for power, monk, but if you must call me something, Hiyuri will suffice. I could tell you more, if you wish to pass the time." A pale tongue flickered out, moistening full, cherry lips. "But then, isn't there somewhere you should be before nightfall? Some little plot of mine you should be thwarting?"
"Tasuki," Chichiri said quietly, only his tightened grip on his shakujou betraying his rage. "You're going to do something to Tasuki." Why? Why is it always Tasuki who has to suffer?
"Yessss. I want her to suffer, and that flame-haired bandit means almost as much to her as Tamahome." The name was spat with distaste. "I can only delay his coming for a short time. If it was just her calling to him, I could keep him away, but his soul twin cries out for him just as loudly. And that damnable bird is helping to bring him here."
"What are you planning to do to Tasuki?" he demanded, refusing to let himself be sidetracked. He cared about Tamahome, but Tasuki was the Celestial Warrior who meant the most to him. It was Tasuki who had survived with him and kept him from succumbing to despair. And it was Tasuki who still carried soul wounds because of Hikou, who had once been Chichiri's best friend.
"Don't worry, little monk. What I have planned will be a slow process. You won't make it in time to keep things from starting, but you might be able to save him. It doesn't really matter, either way. The bandit is just a pawn in my game, to be used to hurt her, and to keep you all distracted. I want you to eventually find me again, but not too soon."
There's still time. If I leave this barn, I can use my magic and get to him in time, he thought, whirling back to face the entrance. The door was gone, endless shadow in its place. Whispered, echoing laughter. Overlapping. Seductive. Insane.
She was behind him, her chin resting on his shoulder as her pale tongue feathered along his jaw line. "Time runs differently in the shadows, monk. You're already too late. Night has fallen, and your little bandit is doomed to lose his mind and then his soul."
Whispered, echoing laughter. Overlapping. Seductive. Insane. Gloating and triumphant.
