Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story, as well as all original characters, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Warning: Major Spoilers for "White Stones in the Moonlight," including the surprise ending. Also, some references to an original character from "Bridge Over the Abyss."

Musical Selection: Hmmm - well, I had Ricky Martin's "La Vida Loca" in mind--the longer, uncut, unmixed version--while Kryssa suggested "Bump, Bump, Bump"… heck, choose any Latin dance tune you like! Just make sure that it's hot!

****

Chapter 4. Random drops of rain

Two figures stood in the misting rain in the Roppongi district of Tokyo, peering through the darkness at the colorful and brightly lit marquees adorning various tall, blocky buildings. The taller of the two figures stepped eagerly towards the flashing lights on one sign--then leaped back to avoid being run down by a speeding Toyota.

"Shit! What the fuck was that thing, 'Chiri? Looked like a goddamn demon machine!"

"Calm down, Tasuki. I think that these vehicles are carriages that people use in Miaka's world."

"But where the fuck are the horses? And how do they go so fuckin' fast? HEY!" He bellowed in rage as another passing automobile sprayed muddy water on both of them. "There's another fuckin' thing I can't stand about this world: no goddamn manners! Ya think that people might have the fuckin' decency to be polite, but no, they all gotta be a buncha assholes!"

Chichiri sighed. They were getting nowhere fast just standing here. He sent his ki spinning after the faint and familiar ki signatures of Miaka and Tamahome. Good! Not very far at all: just across this road and down about a stone's throw. And they were in luck; he could also detect the ki signature of the Priestess of Seiryuu. He turned to Tasuki, only to see the other seishi making another attempt to cross the street. Once again he was forced to leap back, shrieking curses at the demon drivers.

"That's it! Let's see how they like a taste of fire in their path! Rekkaaaa Shin'eeeenn…"

Chichiri jumped up and grabbed the tessen, forcing the gout of flame parallel to the street instead of bisecting it. All the same, the vehicles swerved to the sound of squealing brakes, nearly mowing the two seishi down in their haste to get away from the sudden explosion of fire.

Chichiri dragged Tasuki into a side alley and shook him hard.

"Tasuki! You. Will. Not. Use. The. Tessen. Do you understand? We're trying to blend in here, not call attention to ourselves!"

"Well, fuck, 'Chiri, then how are we supposed to get across the fuckin' street?"

"I think I'd better handle this. Here, step into my kesa."

"But I thought that you didn't wanna draw too much attention to us."

"Well, it's either this, or watch you blow up a significant portion of Miaka's hometown. Let's go!"

****

The newest Latin dance club, called "Ravida Roca" by the locals, was situated on Gaien-Higashi Street in the Roppongi District of Tokyo. It was seething with excitement even at the relatively early hour of 11 PM. Beautiful young things of both sexes strutted for the "doorman," who held the power to either make or break their night by allowing or refusing them entrance. Bundles of thousand-yen bills were passed unobtrusively to ease the admissions procedures--although if one was an American movie star or a world-cup soccer player, no such bribes were necessary.

Yui Hongo gazed excitedly around the huge club, taking in the computerized light display, the giant speakers, and the ballroom-sized dance floor. This was definitely the place to see and be seen--and they were lucky that Tetsuya and Keisuke had troubleshot a home computer system for a grateful policeman who moonlighted here as security. He had talked the doorman into letting them in early, so now they were seated at a table on the far side of the dance floor, getting ready to celebrate Taka and Miaka's return from their extended tropical jaunt.

Yui sent a keen glance at her best friend's face. Yes, Miaka seemed happy enough, free of the shadows that had darkened her eyes scant weeks ago. Perhaps her decision to expedite the wedding was the best thing to do under the circumstances… and therefore Yui's advice was reasonable and wise. Yui's mind drifted back to that first startling conversation between the two friends over a leisurely lunch at a quiet teahouse.

It had been an unusually clear day in late winter, the bright sunlight bringing a promise of spring. The paper blinds had muted the dazzling light, giving the tearoom the soft, golden glow of late afternoon. Except for an elderly couple seated in a quiet corner, Yui and Miaka had been the only customers remaining past lunch hour, their privacy further enhanced by artistically placed shoji screens.

"Yui, do you ever…dream about your seishi?" Miaka's voice had been hesitant, noticeably lacking the chipper cheerfulness that was her signature tone.

Yui had looked up sharply from her cup of tea, instantly attentive. "Of course I do, Miaka. That was a very vivid time in both our lives. I dream less about them as the years go by, but every once in a while…" She shivered, recalling ice-blue eyes staring at her across the gulf of years.

Miaka stared down into her own cup of tea, a half-eaten rice cracker lying forgotten on the plate before her. She kept her face down, but Yui noticed that the tips of her ears were bright red. "I mean, do you ever have… um, romantic dreams about them?"

Yui's mind turned back to those same blue eyes, summoning up the memory of a flat, deadpan voice declaring his love for her. Even at that moment, he couldn't rid his tones of their essential coldness. She shivered again. "Not really," she replied softly, firmly turning her thoughts away from a passionate yet frighteningly intense young man.

"Oh." Miaka's voice trailed off into silence as she continued to stare into her teacup.

Yui pulled herself away from her own memories to focus on her friend's distress. "What's wrong, Miaka? Why don't you come out and say what's on your mind? I promise not to laugh at you."

Her promise was good, as Miaka well knew. Ever since that first disastrous adventure in the ShiJinTenChiSho and Miaka's selfless sacrifice of a wish so that she could save Yui's life, Yui had never again treated her friend with the slightly contemptuous mockery that had been the hallmark of their relationship up until then. She never forgot that she owed Miaka her life, and she was determined to atone for all the pain and tears she had caused her best friend through her own misdirected jealousy and rage.

The same thoughts had probably been flashing through Miaka's mind, because she hesitated only a moment before speaking. "Ever since we graduated, and Taka became settled in his career, I started having dreams. Vivid dreams. About my seishi. Some of the dreams are very…" she took a deep breath and rushed on, "…sexual, but others are just happy and some are very…sad."

Yui raised her eyebrows, trying to remember all of the Suzaku seishi. There was the tall, quiet doctor, the young, brilliant boy… "You've been dreaming those type of dreams about all of them?"

Miaka finally lifted her eyes, letting out a peal of her characteristic laughter. "No, not all of them, Yui! I'm not that bad! Only about one, in fact."

"Who?"

The laughter left Miaka's face. She flushed brilliant red but kept her gaze steadily fixed on her friend's face. "Tasuki."

Yui struggled to keep the shock from her face. Tasuki? The fiery bandit? After what he almost did to her? Of course, he wasn't really responsible; well, not totally responsible, anyway. But she couldn't help but be surprised at the level of Miaka's forgiveness; after all, she herself had been an unwilling participant through her connection with Miaka. The exact events remained fuzzy in her mind, however, due to the effects of the sake that Tasuki had given to Miaka, inadvertently affecting Yui as well.

Miaka had watched and correctly interpreted the progression of expressions on Yui's face. "I know that it seems strange," she murmured, blushing even harder. "I can't understand it myself."

Yui frowned, trying to bring her limited knowledge of psychology into play. "Well, Tasuki did force you to see him in a sexual way, although it was against your will. Maybe you're replaying the events of that night, trying to put yourself in control of the situation."

"No." Miaka's voice was soft but firm. "I don't dream about that night; at least, I try not to. It wasn't erotic at all. It was just," her voice dropped, "terrifying, and then…very sad."

She lifted her face and met Yui's gaze again. "When I dream about him, he's younger; he looks seventeen, the age he was when I first went into the book. And we're laughing and happy, and there's green grass beneath us, and…and then we kiss, and then… you know. But sometimes it changes, and we're on a dark mountaintop, and his eyes are so full of pain and despair, and I'm crying, knowing that I'm leaving him forever and breaking his heart and mine." Miaka's eyes filled with tears. "I don't understand it, Yui," she whispered. "I know that Taka is the one I love, but these dreams are just so real! And I don't know why, because Tasuki and I were never more than friends: good friends, but still…just friends."

Yui reached out and gripped Miaka's hand. "Maybe it's not Tasuki you're dreaming about at all. Maybe he symbolizes some deeper fear in you."

"Some deeper fear?"

"Yes! You said that these dreams started when Taka got his career on track, right? Didn't you two begin seriously planning your wedding at that time?"

"Well, yes, but--"

Yui clapped her hands in delight. "That's it, don't you see? You're just having a case of pre-wedding jitters!" She immediately grew sober again. "Getting married is a huge step, Miaka, no matter how long you've waited for it or how much you love Taka. It's still a serious commitment, forsaking all others for the rest of your life. You won't be a young girl anymore, once you're married, and maybe that's what frightens you." Yui paused for a moment, wondering briefly if she was talking about Miaka and Taka--or herself and Tetsuya. She gave herself an internal shake and plunged ahead. "And that's probably what Tasuki symbolizes in your dreams: a time when you were young, and the world was full of choices."

Miaka frowned, her emerald eyes still troubled and dark. "Maybe you're right." But she had sounded unconvinced.

In spite of her hesitation, Miaka must have been convinced, because less than two weeks later, she announced that she and Taka had dispensed with their plans for a large wedding. They had decided to move the wedding date up to the following week and hold a small private ceremony for family and close friends, followed by a honeymoon in Hawaii. Yui was startled by the rapid change in plans and questioned Miaka privately if there was some new reason for the rushed wedding.

Miaka had laughed her characteristic pealing laugh as she denied any complications. "It's just that it will be cheaper this way. You see, by not having to put money down for a really big wedding, we can afford a really nice honeymoon--and Hawaii is so cheap when you consider the yen-to-dollar exchange rate."

Yui had smiled, knowing that Taka always struggled between his desire to give Miaka everything and his overwhelming impulse to hold onto every last yen. It did seem like the perfect compromise...except when Yui looked deep into Miaka's eyes and saw some shadows still lurking there. "Are you sure that you're not just--running away?"

Miaka shifted her gaze away. "Running away?" Her voice was high and cheerful. "What do you mean? Of course I'm running away--with my soon-to-be-husband!"

So things had progressed as planned, except for that one moment when Miaka had paused before walking down the aisle. Stunning in a Western-style off-the-shoulder white wedding sheath, she looked like the perfect bride--except for the trembling of her lips and the sudden tears in her eyes. For one moment, Yui thought her friend might tear off her lacy veil and turn and run out of the shrine. But Miaka had looked up instead and met Taka's gaze, his deep grey eyes shining with love as he stood waiting for her, breathtakingly handsome in a traditional dark grey tuxedo. She smiled and proceeded down the aisle to officially join her life to the man she loved.

And here they were, freshly returned from their two-week honeymoon, looking every bit as love-struck as any set of newlyweds should. Except, of course, that Keisuke and Tetsuya were monopolizing Taka's attention as they stood at the bar, waiting for a pitcher of Chinese beer. Yui wasn't complaining, however; it gave her a chance to catch up with Miaka in semi-privacy. She had missed her friend more than she expected.

She smiled, admiring Miaka's trendy layered look of a floral printed miniskirt over a tight pair of bicycle shorts. Her ensemble was completed with a lacy cropped camisole and a pair of tight knee-length thick-heeled boots. However, she had chosen to let her long thick auburn locks fall free and unfettered down her back instead of binding them up in the schoolgirl pigtails that were now the rage among the young serious clubbers.

Nor did Yui sport the Lolita look. She raised a hand self-consciously to her newly shorn dark blond locks. Miaka smiled and gently touched Yui's hair. "I like it like this. It brings back memories."

"Yes, it does. Except now I've done it to feel more like myself instead of to hide from the boys."

Both girls laughed, remembering her fierce rejection of male attention in junior high and her radical attempt to discourage it by shearing off her long blond locks.

Yui's gaze grew distant as she recalled her most recent impulse to cut her hair into that long-ago bob. It was hard to explain; maybe it was the memories that Miaka had stirred up by talking about their past in the ShiJinTenChiSho, but she couldn't shake the odd feeling that something was about to happen, and that cutting her hair was somehow the right thing to do. Tetsuya hadn't minded, merely shrugging and saying that he had first fallen in love with her when she had short hair, so why would it bother him now? Of course, he was always that way nowadays, giving her space and telling her that her decisions were her own. Part of her appreciated his recognition of her independence, but another part of her wished that he would at least once in a while take a dominant role so that she would know that he cared. Right now, she wasn't sure if he regarded her as a potential life partner, or just a fun girlfriend to hang out with. Yui sighed, envying Miaka her certainty of where she stood in Taka's life; after all, making public vows was pretty damn indicative of how they felt about one another, wasn't it?

Miaka reached out and grasped Yui's hand. It was funny how close they had grown over the past five years. They were closer than sisters, almost like twins in their ability to track with one another's thoughts.

Miaka tried to divert Yui's thoughts in a more upbeat direction. "You look very slammin' tonight!"

She gazed admiringly at Yui's daring outfit of a backless black cotton spandex top that seemed to be composed mostly of 3 inch wide straps. She completed the ensemble with a pair of skintight dark blue bootleg jeans brushing over short boots with four-inch platform heels. The unusual height of the men in their lives allowed Yui and Miaka to wear very high heels with little or no self-consciousness.

Yui laughed out loud at the American slang term. "Did you pick that up in Hawaii?"

"Yes!" Miaka's grin was mischievous and infectious.

"I like it. I feel slammin' tonight, so watch out, world! Yui Hongo is ready to burn the floor!"

Miaka let out a peal of delighted laughter. "I feel the same way: almost as if something is about to happen!"

Before Yui could comment on the strange juxtaposition of their thoughts, the house DJ took over the mike.

"Hombres y damas, our next number will be taking us back to the last millennium--a hit from overseas in the pen-ul-timate year of the last century! So come out and relive the past with the American pop idol, R…"

"Yui!" squealed Miaka, sounding just like a junior-high schooler again. "It's our favorite song from high school!"

Yui jumped up, scanning the crowd clustered near the bar. "Where are the guys?"

"Here they come!"

Keisuke, Tetsuya, and Taka wove carefully through the crowd, Keisuke carrying a tray holding a pitcher of beer and several glasses with the reverence of a high priest bearing a holy receptacle. Yui smiled at the three men; they were definitely three of the hottest males in the club. Although they eschewed any flashy fashions, opting for standard slightly baggy jeans or khakis with guayabera shirts, their stature, athletic grace and handsome features provoked surreptitious glances from several females in the room.

But there was no time for subtle female jousting. The introductory bars of the girls' favorite song were already playing, and couples of all types were hitting the huge dance floor.

"Taka!" shrieked Miaka happily. "Don't you remember this song? Come on, let's dance!"

Taka Sukanami smiled at his new wife, his grey eyes sparkling. He would never grow tired of her enthusiasm or high spirits, her happy shrieks always making his heart beat a little faster. However, he was a little uncertain of his Latin dancing skills. Although he had taken a few perfunctory lessons with Miaka while he was still in college, he was far from confident in his ability. But if it would make Miaka happy…

"Awww, no, Taka! Come onnnn! We just got back here with the beer! Damnit, don't tell me that you and Tetsuya are gonna leave me alone at the table!"

Both men hesitated at Keisuke's familiar whine. It was true, they had just gotten the beer, and it was sort of rude to ditch their partnerless buddy.

"Tetsuya." Yui's voice held a warning note.

Keisuke grinned at his sister's best friend. "Come on, Yui, don't try to make Tetsuya as whipped as Miaka has Taka!"

Both men shouted in denial and began to pummel Keisuke.

Yui rolled her eyes at the immature antics of the testosterone trio, and grabbed Miaka's arm. "Come on, Miaka, we're wasting our time here! Let's go dance before these homoerotically inclined idiots make us miss the whole song!"

"Whoo!" shouted Keisuke exuberantly. "Major burn!"

Taka grinned at Miaka from his choke-hold on Keisuke. "Next dance, I promise, sweetheart!"

Yui tossed her head and looked back over her shoulder at the guys. "It'll be your own fault if we're carried off by a couple of gorgeous strangers!" She made sure to add an extra sway to her tightly jeaned bottom as she walked through the crowd.

Tetsuya noticed some guys checking out his girlfriend's bare back and well-shaped derriere and almost got up to follow her, before being slammed back down in his seat by Keisuke, a glass of beer thrust into his hand.

"Let the girls have their fun!" encouraged Keisuke, "And we'll have ours!"

****

Meanwhile, back at the entrance, two damp and oddly-clad strangers were trying to get into the club. The doorman squinted suspiciously at them. "Place is full. Can't let anyone else in. Fire laws." He gestured back towards the rain. "Come back later." Two fashionable couples slipped past them into the club, belying his words, but he continued to stare stolidly past the two costumed freaks.

The taller, red-haired one scowled angrily and reached for some object at his back, but his quieter companion laid a restraining hand on his arm. Damned if that freak wasn't in a get-up like some kinda Buddhist monk! Well, he didn't give a shit, they still weren't getting in!

The monk approached him, then removed his face. What? Oh, it was just some freaky mask. No matter--they for sure weren't getting in now! No loony-bin escapees permitted in the club, unless they happened to be famous.

"But we are famous." The monk's voice was gentle and persuasive, his one eye (One eye? shrieked the doorman's conscious brain through some thick fog that suddenly filled his head) gleaming in the dim light. "And you're expecting us."

"Oh, of course," the doorman muttered, to his own surprise. He waved them in, but his conscious mind fought free one last time as he noticed the large forbidding object strapped to Red's back. "Hey! No weapons allowed!"

"It's not a weapon," the monk reassured him. "It's just a fan. A…" he paused, searching for the appropriate term. "A personal fashion statement, that's all it is." His red-haired companion looked outraged but kept his mouth clamped shut.

"Well, that's all right then. Go on in." The doorman shook his head as they passed. He didn't know why, but he was beginning to get a throbbing headache.

Once inside the club, the two men stopped in surprise, blinking at the level of noise slamming into their brains.

"Shit, 'Chiri, this is the loudest fucking band I've ever heard! But where the fuck are they?"

"I'm not concerned with finding the band, Tasuki. We have greater troubles."

Tasuki noted the strange looks cast in their direction. "Hey, 'Chiri, everybody's starin' at ya! Didn't ya say we hadda blend in with this world? Ya better lose the monk's outfit."

Chichiri refrained from pointing out that Tasuki's boldly cut bandit coat and flashy boots were drawing equally as many stares as his shakujou and kesa. He scanned the crowd quickly, looking for either a uniform mode of dress, or--There! Sitting at a table surrounded by admiring males was a lady, immaculately groomed. She was mature, probably near Tasuki's age, but that didn't detract from her obvious appeal to the opposite sex. Although Chichiri appeared to most eyes to be a sequestered monk, he had been around enough to know that women--especially fashionable, popular women--were the best source for information on how a man should dress.

He sent his ki out, gently inquiring of her subconscious what would be the most appropriate clothing for a reserved man of thirty-four and an out-going man of twenty-seven. He blinked a few times at the mental images that were forcefully sent back in his direction. Well, he certainly didn't see anyone here dressed like that, but he didn't have time to seek a second opinion. He concentrated his ki on conjuring up the appropriate garments for both himself and Tasuki, adjusting hues to suit their individual hair colors. He frowned once again, looking at Tasuki's hair--no, he would leave it alone to prevent an outraged show of temper from the bandit. However, he had to adjust his own hair and get rid of his mask while trying to keep his missing eye from appearing too startling.

All these calculations and muttered spells were performed in the space of less than twenty seconds, and Tasuki was shocked to find himself in unfamiliar, strangely-fitting garments. Opening his mouth to protest to Chichiri, he was shocked even more by his fellow seishi's altered appearance. "Shit," he complained weakly. "Never seen ya in an eyepatch before, 'Chiri."

"Let's go; we've wasted enough time already."

The two men began moving through the crowd, unaware that the beautiful lady at the table had snapped her head up as they passed by.

"Che!" she exclaimed beneath her breath. "Bellissimo!" Although she spoke perfect English, she often lapsed into her native Italian when surprised. In spite of having spent the last eight weeks in Hollywood shooting her latest movie, she had never seen anyone, not even the young hotshot actors, look quite as beautiful as those two men. And they were even wearing her favorite Italian designer clothes!

Tasuki noted that people were staring at them once more, but now the stares held admiration instead of puzzlement, especially from the female patrons of this bar. He began to preen and added a little more swagger to his walk.

Chichiri glanced over his shoulder and suppressed a smile. Although Tasuki claimed to dislike women, he was a bit of a peacock when it came to soliciting feminine attention. For that matter, they were both attracting a great deal of notice. Chichiri began to struggle through the press of people, trying to focus on Miaka's ki while gently removing a delicate hand from his coat lapel.

"Fuck!" exclaimed Tasuki, removing a manicured hand that was caressing his backside. "What the fuck is Tama thinkin,' bringin' Miaka to a place that's full of prostitutes?"

"They're not prostitutes, Tasuki. Women are just a little, er, bold in this world."

"No shit!" muttered the bandit, fending off a hand that was trying to grasp a considerably more intimate portion of his anatomy…until he caught sight of the man attached to the hand. He exploded, snatching the tessen out of its holster and pointing it at the wispy young man with tight pants and streaked and layered blond hair. "You're gonna burn for that, ya fuckin' pervert!" he shrieked. "REKKAAA… mmmph!"

Chichiri clamped a hand over Tasuki's mouth and dragged him off through the crowd.

"Damn!" muttered the blond. "I was hoping that they weren't a couple!"

Meanwhile, Chichiri was trying to soothe Tasuki's considerably ruffled feathers.

"Goddammit, 'Chiri, why'd ya stop me! If we were in Konan, I woulda singed that asshole good!"

"But we're not in Konan, Tasuki, and we don't have time to indulge your temper. Try not to get so angry; after all, you never felt such aversion towards Nuriko."

"I got nothin' against okamas! But don't even mention Nuriko in the same breath as that asshole! Nuriko was…Nuriko, damnit! He would never even think of violatin' my…" Tasuki stopped, frowning in confusion at his own terminology.

Chichiri's expression darkened, and he looked around for a distraction, fixing gratefully on a young woman balancing a tray with glasses of all sizes, each of which contained liquid of varying colors. Chichiri snatched a small glass off the tray and offered it to Tasuki. "Here, Tasuki--do you remember when you said that you wanted to try the drinks in this world? This looks like their version of sake."

The diversion was successful, and Tasuki grinned. "Yeah, that's right! We never did get to celebrate finishing off that asshole Nakago!" He threw back the shot of tequila in one swallow--then began choking. His face went as red as his hair as he gasped for relief from the burning fluid. Chichiri looked around desperately for a glass of water until he felt a strong grip on his arm. Tasuki blinked back the involuntary tears in his eyes, then drew in a deep breath. "Fuck, 'Chiri, that was some evil shit in that glass!" He smirked at his companion. "Think you could get me another one?"

Chichiri laughed. "Come on!"

They continued to weave their way through the crowd, finally getting within sight of the dance floor. Tasuki squinted at the suggestive gyrations of the dancers. This was far beyond anything he had ever seen "nonprofessional" dancers do before--and he liked it.

"Hey, 'Chiri, think ya could do somethin' so that I'd know how to dance like that?"

Chichiri raised his eyebrows at the overt sexuality of some of the better dance moves, then shrugged. He breathed a brief spell, touching his fingers to Tasuki's forehead. "There. Now you know the steps--but how well you perform them is up to your intrinsic ability."

"Fuck, I ain't worried 'bout that, 'Chiri! You know me: love music, love ta dance!" He snatched another glass off another passing tray and enthusiastically tossed back the contents. This time he only choked once. "They got some fuckin' strong shit in this world! Whoo!"

Chichiri just smiled and continued making his way across the dance floor, knowing that Tasuki was trying to cover his nervousness as the moment approached when they would meet Miaka again.

Meanwhile, back at the table on the opposite end of the dance floor, Taka looked up from his beer, thinking that he heard a familiar shout. He craned his neck towards the floor in front of the DJ's booth, where he could catch occasional glimpses of Miaka and Yui enthusiastically gyrating to the music under the flashing colored lights. Yes, they seemed fine, but… He turned in the opposite direction and caught sight of a flash of flaming red hair.

"What's the matter, Taka?" Tetsuya's eyes were hidden as usual behind his Ray-bans but his voice held concern. "The girls okay?"

"Yeah, it's nothing. Just for a moment, I thought I saw somebody who looked like Tasuki." Taka laughed, mocking his own ridiculous perceptions. "That seems to happen whenever I see someone with red hair. Probably just some damn American!"

****

Miaka laughed as the song reached the end of the first chorus. She and Yui were having a great time, singing the English words and rolling their hips to the Latin rhythm. In spite of Yui's determination to make their men jealous, she and Miaka both turned modestly away from any man who attempted to join their dance. The guys seemed to get the message, so Miaka relaxed, exuberantly raising her hands above her head--only to feel them caught in an iron grip. She instinctively pulled back, but found herself spun around to face…

A sapphire blue raw silk shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, open halfway down the front to reveal a strongly muscled chest, further decorated with multiple necklaces of pukka shells, blue agate stones, and other sparkling gems. Her brain dimly registered the expensive, stylish clothes, the dull shine of the silk shirt complementing the muted sheen of the black leather pants that fitted narrow hips; not garishly skin tight, just flatteringly snug, hinting at male assets that… She flushed and forced her eyes upwards, taking in the one incongruous piece to this perfect ensemble: a pair of black leather belts that crossed the shirt like a holster--and then she knew.

It had to be him.

She looked up to see flaming red hair, grown long and looking tamer than she remembered now that it was confined in a ponytail, wisps of trailing bangs partially veiling sparkling amber eyes flecked with gold. That distinctive nose, those chiseled cheekbones and strong chin--he looked older and absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful now that he was approaching his prime.

"Tasuki!" she gasped, her brain fizzling with shock, her heart suddenly hammering so hard that she thought it might burst through her chest.

He grinned a fangy grin and spun gracefully, catching her hands once more above her head, drawing her in so that her hips rocked against his.

"Hey, Mi-chan," he growled as casually as if they had just parted ways yesterday.

Her brain continued to refuse to engage. "What…what are you doing here?"

"Dancing with you, baka girl, whaddaya think?" And he was, swiveling those hips perfectly in time to the music, his natural grace adding even more sensuality to the moves. She felt herself joining him in the rhythm, but forced her mind back to reality.

"I mean, how did you get here?"

He nodded at someone behind her. "Caught a lift with Chichiri, what else?"

Miaka twisted her neck to catch a glimpse of another old friend--and nearly stumbled in shock. She had never seen Chichiri looking so hot! He was clad in a dark grey Armani suit, the elegant coat draping his figure while emphasizing broad shoulders that were usually concealed beneath his kesa. Beneath the coat he wore a silvery-grey silk shirt with a band collar. And his features! He was definitely in his prime, his features strong yet refined, his silvery-blue bangs sweeping low over one eye instead of reaching skyward, his scar and missing eye camouflaged by a discreet silver eyepatch. He looked sophisticated and worldly and oh-so-sexual--and Yui wore a look of stunned disbelief, caught in his arms as he danced with her in the subtle but devastatingly erotic Cuban style. He flipped Yui around so that her back was against his body as he swayed, and Yui looked as if she had been transported to one of the seven circles of Nirvana.

Miaka choked. "Whoa, Chichiri!" she gasped.

Yui, wide-eyed, shook her hand in the signal for "hot!" and mouthed Whoa, Chichiri! back at her. Chichiri smiled at Miaka warmly.

"Hey!" protested a jealous voice. "Quit ogling Chichiri! Don't forget that I'm your opponent; I mean, dance partner!" Tasuki spun Miaka around to face him just as the second chorus began.

By the gods, the man could dance! Miaka had never before danced with anyone so overtly sexual. He pulled her in and pushed her back, then bent her in a deep dip and pumped his hips above her. She knew that the other people on the floor were beginning to take notice of his flamboyant style and wildly fashionable clothes--but she didn't care. She felt caught up in a rush of exhilaration just at the sensation of being in his arms again--Again? whispered a tiny portion of her brain--and she didn't care who was watching or what they were thinking. He was back, and she had missed him so much!

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Chichiri and Yui were causing an equal stir with their elegant but equally sexy manner of dancing. Although Chichiri kept his hands just on Yui's hand and waist, the subtle thrust of his hips gave their dance an erotic sizzle, creating an aura of sexual tension that you could cut with a knife.

Suddenly, Miaka's attention was diverted from her friends as Tasuki released her hands and began to sink down before her, keeping his hips swiveling rhythmically as he traced the outline of her curvy figure with the backs of his fingers. Caught up in the moment, Miaka lifted her heavy mane of hair above her head, arching her back and swiveling her own hips as she accepted his apparent adulation. There was a murmur of admiration from the dance floor observers at the sensuality and athleticism of their moves. Tasuki rose up quickly and caught her hands, placing them on her hips and turning her so that her back was pressed against him. She felt the hard muscles of his thighs pressing against her flanks as they rocked their hips in a rhythmic thrust--and she was lost. She lost all sense of where she was; the music, the flashing lights, and the crowd all seemed to fade away. There was only she and he, a woman and a man reunited at last in physical pleasure. She caught the warm sandalwood scent of his heated skin and tilted her head back so that her hair brushed sensuously across his chest. He bent his head towards her neck and sighed in pleasure, his warm breath tickling her ear, arousing her…and something in her told her that she had finally come home.

But as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, the pleasurable pressure of his thighs withdrawn from her back. She nearly cried out in disappointment, until she looked up and registered the furious features of her husband. Taka had caught Tasuki's arm and spun him away from her, but Tasuki seemed oblivious to Taka's state of mind.

"Hey, Tamaaaaa!" he cried out in real pleasure as he danced with the new arrival in their group. "Whoo! I was wonderin' where the fuck you were!"

Taka snarled at his brother seishi. "Swivel those hips at me one more time, and you're a dead man!"

Tasuki continued to dance around Taka, frowning as he picked up the hostility in the other man's tones. "What the fuck didja come out here for, if ya didn't wanna dance with us?"

"I came out here to tell you to take your sleazy hands off my--" Suddenly Taka reached out and seized the wildly gyrating seishi by his crossed belts. "Would you quit dancing with me? You're making us look gay!"

Tasuki's hair-trigger temper was finally provoked, and he stopped dancing immediately, knocking Taka's hands away from the tessen holster. "What the fuck's the matter with you? We haven't seen each other in eight years, and all you can do is act like an asshole!"

"It's only been five years--and you're the one acting like an asshole! Not five minutes back here, and you've got your hands all over Miaka, your goddamn yoku symbol lighting up the whole damn room! Don't think that I don't know what that means!"

Tasuki flushed, along with Miaka behind them.

"Taka, please," she pleaded, trying to avert the oncoming brawl. "It was all my fault--"

"No, it wasn't! Quit taking the blame, Mi-chan. It was this asshole's fault for leaving you alone and unprotected out here; he's just lucky it was me, and not some pervert coming up to you!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, the last time I looked, it looked like some pervert to me!"

"Fuck you, asshole! Maybe you didn't miss me over the past few years, but from the way you're talkin', I'm guessin' that you missed the tessen!" Tasuki reached behind his back for the fan. "But don't worry, 'cause in the next few seconds, you're gonna feel the heat!"

A thrill of excitement coursed through the crowd at the imminent fight, but at that critical moment, a strong arm seized Tasuki, pulling him back.

Chichiri shoved Tasuki roughly in Yui's direction. "Here! Dance with Yui, Tasuki--and that's not a request!" His mahogany eye blazed with intimidating anger. "And you, Taka--settle down and dance with Miaka! I don't want to see either one of you starting up any brawls, or you're going to get all of us thrown out of here!" He nodded at the burly forms of the club bouncers, who were moving in on the dance floor to break up any potential fights.

In spite of the fact that it had been several years since he last saw Chichiri, Taka automatically yielded to the seishi he respected as a father/older brother figure. He caught Miaka's hands and turned his back on Tasuki, contenting himself with only a dirty look over his shoulder. Tasuki seemed much more combative but was also forced to yield to Chichiri's firm control of the situation.

Chichiri sighed in relief and prepared to leave the dance floor, only to find himself confronted by a wispy young woman, her lovely slanted eyes proclaiming her mixed race, her dark hair in crimped-style waves that reached to the tops of her shoulders. She was clad in a skintight black top that appeared to be held up by a single swath of material at one shoulder, while her narrow hips were encased in a pair of flat-fronted cream silk trousers. Something about her eyes and smile reminded Chichiri irresistibly of Josselin, although this girl was considerably younger and thinner. All the same, he paused for a moment, caught up in memories.

"Uh-uh." The girl shook her head at him. "I've waited long enough to dance with you; you're not getting away from me now!" Grasping his hand, she led him back onto the crowded dance floor. "Now do that sexy swivel-hip thing with me!" she commanded, and he obeyed numbly, unable to keep from staring at her oddly familiar features.

Meanwhile, Tasuki continued to complain about his ill-treatment at Taka's hands. "Fuckin' bastard," he grumbled dancing smoothly yet perfunctorily with Yui. "First time we've seen each other in years, an' all he can do is pick a fight! Ya think he'd say, Hey, man, great ta see ya, but no--gotta be an asshole all th' time!"

Yui refrained from pointing out that Tasuki had provoked Taka's anger with his overtly sexual dancing with Miaka. She knew that she would only turn the redhead's temper on herself, not to mention that she could sense that he was truly hurt by Taka's apparent coldness towards him.

"Tasuki," she murmured, placing a comforting hand on his arm. It suddenly struck her as strange that she should address him so familiarly when they had never before spoken with one another. In fact, she had never been up close to him before, having only glimpsed his signature red hair on battlegrounds, whether in the Kutou Imperial palace grounds, on the battlefields of Konan, or on that mountain where they had confronted Tenkou. She probably felt so familiar with him because Miaka had spoken warmly and at length about all of her seishi, making Yui feel as if she knew them, too. "Listen, why don't we sit down? I can tell that you're not really in the mood to dance anymore, and I…"

Suddenly the amber eyes turned and focused on her, and Yui felt the full force of his fiery gaze. "So that's what Miaka--" she thought weakly, before she was overcome by the charm of his fangy grin.

"Hey! Here I am with one of the two most beautiful women in this whole place, and ya think that I'm gonna sit this dance out? You can forget that, Priestess! Let's show 'em how hot it can get when Suzaku mixes it up with Seiryuu!"

With that, he pulled her body into his, scattering Yui's thought that for a bandit who claimed to hate women, he certainly knew how to flatter them! He bent her in a deep dip, leaning over her suggestively, then popped her back up with a quick pull on the small of her back, causing her head to snap up towards him in the best flamenco style. Yui knew that Tasuki was showing off for the sake of nabbing Miaka's attention while at the same time showing up Taka's considerably more conservative style of dancing--but she didn't care! It felt so good to have a man completely dominate her on the dance floor, pushing her body wherever he wanted her to go. Being dominated wasn't what she wanted in real life, but…it was almost incredibly arousing to have a man take such a strong lead. She knew that they looked hot together, and she tossed all her inhibitions out the window.

The song was playing through the third and final chorus, the pulsing bass beat driving their movements harder. Tasuki took Yui's hands and placed them on his sweat-glistened chest, then moved them downward until he had her grasping his hips. She held the butter-soft leather as he swiveled and pumped at her--and some demon of mischief made her bend her knees, sinking down on her heels before him, the wild suggestiveness of her pose causing many other dancers to gasp in both outrage and delight. He pulled her up and drew her body tightly against his--gods, the man was so tall, even taller than Tetsuya--then spun her around so that her derriere rested snugly against his pelvis. He pumped his body at her at her in slow, swiveling thrusts, while she wildly shook her behind at blurringly fast speed. The crowd began to shout and whistle.

Miaka couldn't help looking over at them, even though she was trying to keep her attention on Taka--and her face flushed red at their moves. For the first time in years, she wasinfuriatedwith her best friend, her thoughts jumbled and angry. 'What is Yui doing, acting like such a…! She knows damn well that he's mine!' At that point, her thought--and her feet--stumbled, and Taka was forced to catch her with a supporting arm. He frowned at her obvious distraction.

But Miaka wasn't the only one infuriated at the antics of the Suzaku-Seiryuu couple. With the instincts of a warrior, Tasuki spun away from Yui and ducked out of the path of Tetsuya's fist. He snatched the Ray-bans out of Tetsuya's grip and put them on, dancing easily out of Tetsuya's enraged reach. Tetsuya was forced to stay with Yui, muttering about red-headed perverts, while Tasuki moved easily and gracefully through the crowd, spinning and dipping any female that caught his shaded gaze. Finally he fixed the Ray-bans on the one figure he was looking for, and he pulled the Armani-clad form of Chichiri away from yet another partner, this time a blue-jeaned woman with short dark hair who was also fascinating the magician with her strong resemblance to Joss.

"C'mon, 'Chiri, let's go get our girls!" He pulled Chichiri after him, ignoring the angry growl of the magician's dance partner.

"Dammit, Flame-boy, ya did it to me again!" she complained to the now vacant space where Chichiri had been just a second earlier.

The two men wove through the crowd, catching sight of Miaka and Yui--then, with the combined talents of seishi speed and mystical transmigration, cut neatly in on both Taka and Tetsuya, seizing the girls and dropping them in a deep dip just at the last blasting note of the song.

Tetsuya and Taka, now partnerless, stood facing each other as if they had been dancing with one another. Both young men had the same thought.

"Grrrrrrrrr!"

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Glossary of Terms:

Bellissimo! - (Italian) Beautiful! ( male form)

Hai! - (Japanese) Yes!

Hombres y damas - (Spanish) Gentlemen and ladies

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Author's note: (4-16-03) Okay, lots of apologies and explanations in order.

First of all, I'm sorry for that rather abrupt ending to this chapter. This chapter lacks my usual "story arc" form for a very good reason: this is only the first half of my original Chapter 4. But that dang thing kept growing and growing; right now, unfinished, it's already at an unwieldy 12,000 words, and that's just too damn much for one chapter! I was really torn between finishing the Tokyo segment in one lengthy arc and dumping a giant encyclopedia-sized chapter on my faithful friends - or having mercy on you poor people (especially Shadow Priestess, who has to jockey for computer time) and cutting it in half. So I decided to compromise. Because the "next" chapter--Chapter 5--is really the second half of this chapter, I'm going to post it right away on Friday instead of waiting another week. I wanted to post something on Friday, anyway, since that is the birthday of A Very Special Someone!

My next apologies go to all my friends who have e-mailed me or reviewed me and received only discourteous silence; I'm sorry, but I'm just swamped with work and trying to kick out these recent chapters of "Hidden Paths." I will get back to everyone, hopefully sometime in May…sigh. Hopefully.

Finally, very big thank you's to Kryssa, for taking me to a Latin Dance club so that I could "set the scene" and to Aikido-chan, for indulging in lengthy discussions with me on how "Hollywood" and "on the edge" I could dress Tasuki and Chichiri without making them look effeminate--the sapphire hue of Tasuki's raw silk shirt was her idea--and also a big thanks to GQ for their always spot-on fashion advice. By the way, Miaka is dressed in current Tokyo club fashions-- the layered look is very in--whereas Yui and the guys are dressed more in the American style, while my two favorite seishi are dressed in either the Hollywood or continental European fashion, whichever you choose to call it.

Chichiri in Armani - to die for, ne? Special note to Kris and CG: how do you like his dance partners?

One last warning: this was the "up" portion of the roller coaster - the next big drop happens on Friday! See ya then!

Ja ne!

Roku