A/N: this chapter is dedicated to my bestest friend ever--kittywhiskers05. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME! I dunno what I exactly did... Sorry if I went too far on the joking... (btw i DID go and died in a ditch. happy? lol)

I hope you enjoy this piece. I know it's short--I was thinking about adding on more (i like my stories twice this length) but i also like to make the first chapters of my stories short and sweet ya know?

This story will contain pretty much every FY character in the anime/manga (well, at least the main ones lol)

Please review, okay? I'd really like that. Reviews are sadly what keep me going :'( I know--that's pathetic of me, but I can't help it...-goes to cry in a corner cuz she admitted that she just lost her best friend and her weakness in writing- Oh, God...lmao.

A Fushigi Yugi Fan Fiction

Title: One Drunken Night

Chapter One:

A New Pretty Face

She had never been more frustrated or depressed in her life. Okay, so maybe she had back in the Universe of the Four Gods (which was six years ago)—but by the person she had loved? Who she had fought so hard for? She had thought he had meant it when he said he could not love another woman. Ha! how gullible she had been, so desperate to believe in such a cheesy line.

The brunette was speeding on the almost empty highway, a fire burning in her eyes that had never been seen on her innocent face before. It was five minutes to midnight; she had been driving around aimlessly for an hour. Her cell phone beeped for the tenth time since then. She knew who it was –Taka. To explain or break up for good, she had no clue. But right then she knew the last thing she wanted was to talk to that man.

Now twenty-one, Miaka thought a drink would help lessen the sickening feeling deep in her stomach. Of course she wasn't known as a drinker—only on special occasions did she have some wine, and even then it was just a tad. Never before had the former Priests of Suzaku had such an urge for a devil's beverage, (yeah, maybe food, but that's a given). The thought of a warm, cozy bar seemed peaceful to her.

Miaka spent some time looking around for a bar; finally she spotted a place she'd never noticed before with a neon "liquor" sign hanging in the window seal. She smiled sadly at her find and pulled into the parking lot: the bar seemed to be larger than she'd predicted. Cars crammed all around; some guys were hanging out side, drinking and smoking. Miaka got out of her small Chevrolet. She was dressed in a simple skimpy red dress, hair cascading lovely half way down her back. Black high-heels made her an inch taller than her 5'10".

Puffy-eyed from recent crying, the beautiful young woman walked to the pub's door and yanked it open. The room was cool and dimly lit, soft jazz music barely being heard over slurred words and laughter. Miaka then walked over to the main counter when the bartender was chatting casually to a customer. When he turned to her, he smiled kindly and asked, "What would you like, ma'am? I haven't seen your pretty face here before, have I?"

Miaka warily smiled back at him; the man was probably in his late fifties, gray hair beginning to form on his brown hair and beard. "No, this is my first time. Ur…" She looked behind him at the different selections. "Um, I don't know. What do you recommend?"

He scratched his chin, sizing her up it seemed like; Miaka blushed under his friendly gaze, hoping he didn't see a hidden weakness that even she did not know of herself. "Well, ma'am, I think you could use a Bloody Mary—not to hard on the body but defiantly on the mind: it'll clear your head of hate."

The girl smiled. "That sounds exactly like what I need." And the bartender turned around to oblige. Once one had Miaka gotten drunk, and that had been with a possessed Tasuki. She remembered he had used the chance to try to seduce her…and the Taka had come to her rescue. 'No, no, no!' Miaka cursed herself, tightly shutting her teary eyes and roughly shacking her head. 'Just stop thinking about him! Tat was back when we were young—when the two of us sadly believed in Happily Ever After… HA!' Actually, she did accidentally give a bitter laugh right as the man turned back around, her drink in hand.

Raising an eyebrow, he placed her order in front of her. "Bad day, huh?" he asked sincerely. "That is usually why we get newcomers—and normally the pretty young ladies like you." Miaka blushed shyly, whispering a thank you and sipping the alcohol in a champagne glass. "Most of the men are regulars here and when ever they're not it's 'cause they are new to town—then there are the occasional drifters. Every once and a while we get a Broken Heart, but most of them stopped coming once word got around about our teasing them." This made Miaka giggle and the bartender continued. "Genro—a common customer—started it. He's quite the character you know; very handsome too. Stick around for a bit and you'll probably meet him."

A group of men slid in on the stools; one bumped into her but didn't seem to notice. The bartender held a finger up at her, telling her to wait a moment so he could greet them. But Miaka was getting uncomfortable with the man beside her crowding and absently rubbing against her while he made gestures to his friends. Picking up her glass, the girl looked around for a new seat. She spotted a lone one-seat in a corner. Thinking that was perfect, Miaka walked over to the isolated spot. She drained the glass in less than two minutes and then just sat there staring at the black—or maybe it was a dark blue…what about purple? —wall. Yep. Even just by her first drink she was beginning to feel a bit fuzzy.

Couple minutes later a young man around his late twenties walked over towards her. "Good evening, milady," he chimed. "The Old Man over there sent me to ask if you'd like another Bloody Mary since you left."

Miaka returned his toothy grin. "Yeah, that sounds great. I have the whole night—might as well waste it here, ya know?" The boy came back with another drink and Miaka asked him to stay and chat with her for a while. Her words were already slurred after her second drink—something very unusual from just that small proportion of alcohol. But when she asked for a third, he complied, swearing to himself that he wouldn't give her anymore for the night. During their conversation, Miaka figured out that the waiters name was Tom; he was twenty-eight-years-old and not married. Being drunk, these last comments made Miaka start her girl instincts to kick in: flirting. But Tome seemed to be use to it and didn't seem bothered.

"Hey, Miaka," he stated, "I gotta get back to work. And no more to drink for you, okay? It seems that you're already smashed by only three drinks; I'm guessing that you're not much of a drinker, eh? Come on, let's get you back at the counter with the Old Man." He got out of his chair and held out a hand to help the woman; but she just sat there with a pouting face making him laugh lightly. "Ah, I'm not being unfair if that's what you're thinking, Miss—it's just that I don't want you getting hurt, you know?"

"But I don't wanna go back over there," she whined. "That guy was rude."

"Huh?" Tom looked over at the empty bar counter. "I don't know whatcha mean—no one's over there right now. So come on. Or do you want to call anybody? Anyone who could come pick you up now?"

Taka was the first person she thought of. And then she remembered he was the reason she was there in the first place. "No," she whispered, tears already coursing down her cheeks. "No, sadly there isn't."

Tom gave her an apologetic look and then held out his hand once more. "All right; that's okay, don't worry. You can stay here as late as you want. Besides," he smiled sheepishly, "I like your company here." Miaka returned the smile and took his offering hand. He then led the stumbling girl over to the main counter where he gingerly set her down on a stool.

The old man walked over to them and glared at Tom. "Why the Hell does she look so bad, Boy?" he demanded. "How many bloody drinks did you give her?"

"I only gave her three!" Tom cried. "No more—I swear! You gave me the cups, remember? So how could I give her any more?" The bartender frowned, looking down at the unfocused girl. "I don't know how she got this drunk so easily, but she did…It's weird, I know. Not even a newbie at drinking could get like this."

The bartender grinned at the employee. "Are you sure you didn't slip in any drug, Tom?"

He gasped. "Of course I didn't! Who the Hell do you think I am!"

The older man laughed. "An unmarried man who is desperately looking for a woman's attention."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I'm going to get back to work now. Can you call me over when Genro comes by? I've gotta return a CD of his back to him."

"No problem," he said and then he was off. The Old Man turned his attention back to Miaka who was staring into space at the dimly lit room. Even if Tom wasn't hitting on her, he wouldn't find it hard to believe: the girl was naturally beautiful in her saddened atmosphere. A hiccup escaped her swollen lips and he grinned. "So what's your name, Sweetheart?" Of course he wasn't be a flirt—for one he knew he was way to old and secondly he was happily married with two boys.

Miaka snapped out of her daze and looked at the man with distorted emerald-green eyes. "Me? I'm Miaka Yuki." Her words were slurred. "What's yours?"

"My name is William," the bartender said. "But everyone calls me the Old Man." He chuckled softly. "You can call me which everyone you prefer, though, Miss Yuki."

"Miaka," she corrected. "Call me Miaka. And I like William."

He smiled kindly and bent down under the counter, brining up a large glass. "Would you like a drink of water them, Miaka? I think it could help out some of the nasty chemicals from the alcohol and maybe sober you up a bit." The woman licked her lips and them smacked them loudly; she nodded. William then filled it up with some plain tap water. Miaka ended up chugging that in under one minute. After five more refills, she finally excused herself, saying she needed to use the "potty". William chuckled at her use of words—sometimes he found drunks quite amusing.

A moment later the pub's door swung open and a happy cry rang out: "Genro has know arrived!" Cheers and laughter came with his announcement from all around. He waved his hand in acknowledgment to people as he walked towards the counter. William wasn't lying—the man was handsome (to say the least). Locks of fiery red hair twirled in every way on his head, making an oddly cool style you'd think would take a lot of gel, yet it was natural. Sparkling, beautiful amber eyes stuck out brightly from beneath the hair and a lopsided fanged smile game him an even sexier look. Around his neck he wore colorful beads and small dangling earrings on each ear. A tight black shirt showed off his masculine chest wile baggy black pants went down to the floor, covering his feet; the young man looked no older than twenty-three.

"Hey, Will." He slid into the bar stool which Miaka had occupied. "The normal please."

"No problem." The bartender turned around to fill a large glass with their strongest liquor. "Oh, and could you switch a spot, Gen? A young lady is sitting there; she just ran to the bathroom really fast."

Genro Grimaced. "Yer still lettin' them in here? I'm guessin' she's pretty far drunk, eh?" William grinned and nodded. "Damn women. They know nothin' 'bout th' art of drinkin'." He did switch a seat to his left, though, and William set his scotch inform of him. "So who's the wench this time? A run away? Broken Heart? Oh! what about a Heart Breaker! We all ways have fun with those," he laughed.

The Old Man smiled at his friend and leaned against the counter like he always did. "Actually, Genro, I don't know; she hasn't said anything about it. But I highly doubt she's a Heart Breaker—the girl is too innocent and sweet."

"Ah." Genro sipped at his drink, savoring the hard taste. "That's a first."

William looked around the dim room, trying to catch a glimpse of Tom in the shadowy figures sitting around; he remembered promising to call out for him, but eh, why waste his breath? He'd be coming up sooner or later. "So where're your friends tonight?" he asked. "Didn't they come with you?"

Genro shook his head sadly. "Naw, not t'night. Saihitei had some work at the office to catch up on and then Ryuen decided to stay back and cry over her stupid outfit that Ri accidentally shrunk in the dryer." He laughed heartily. "I ferget, but I think it was fer th' modeling show tomorrow…Ah, damn—I'm suppose to 'tag along' as well! Maybe I could make up an excuse not ta go." He grinned foolishly and took another swig, sighing loudly in contentment. "I feel bad fer Ri—the monk's a huge push over and Ryuen takes total advantage of that. But he is useful, you know, when ya need some 'meditating'." He laughed again. "He made me take it with him one time ta calm me down from what they call a tantrum."

Without either of them noticing, Miaka had exited the bathroom and was now just standing there dumbstruck, staring at the red-head, mouth gapped open. "Tasuki…" The whisper was barely audible but Genro caught on and turned towards her. Tears filled the woman's green eyes as she took towards him. "Tasuki… Is that really you, Tasuki? But it can't be…"

Genro, completely confused, looked from the girl to William and then back. "Urm, sorry, Miss, but ya've got th' wrong—" Before he could finish though Miaka had ran over and leapt up, crashing them both to the ground with the stool. "What th' Bloody Hell—" Again he was cut off when her lips suddenly came crashing down on his. Amber eyes wide, he tried to push the woman off but her persistence was greater. Ant then it seemed forgotten emotions began traveling from this strange girl to him: Love, pain, friendship, envy, laughter, war… With all these mixed emotions Genro found himself fiercely kissing her back.

A/N: haha, confused? As you should be. Figure out what's goin' on in the next chapter!

Hey, can y'all do me a huge favor out there? You see, there's this button below and it says, "SUBMIT REVIEW" I know, I know--I'm horrible for asking such a hard task it's just that I want some feedback, ya know? Thanks! Muah!

Peasant

(PS: please don't hate me, Katie!)