Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Fushigi Yuugi. Nothing. Nada. Zip.
Though I do own a flute. Not Amiboshi's, but close enough... 'cept that I
don't know how to play it. ^^;
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Never Coming Back
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He sat in front of the mirror, brush lying forgotten on the dressing table as he contemplated the coming day. Tomorrow the rest of his fellow seishi would be leaving to look for the Shinzaho. Precocious and innocent Chiriko, gentle and taciturn Mitsukake, wise and enigmatic Chichiri, loyal and caring Tasuki, daring and steadfast Tamahome... and Nuriko. They would be leaving tomorrow, and he wouldn't be going with them.
He wouldn't be going with them, wouldn't be able to protect them, wouldn't be able to do anything but offer useless words of encouragement while sitting safe in his extravagant palace. And if they left, he might never experience anything like the warmth of the previous few days again, since some of them might never come back.
"Hotohori-sama, may I come in?"
They might never come back.
"Sure, Nuriko." As the violet-haired seishi slipped into the room, he added, "I thought I told you not to call me 'sama'? You're a seishi now, Nuriko, equally as important as I am."
They might never come back, and he only had precious little time left with the people he treasured most. The -person- he treasured most, even more than Miaka.
"Hotohori-sama, you know that isn't true. You're the emperor! No matter what, you're still more important than any one of us. So you have to be kept safe. You might not like it, but everyone would feel better if you were. Not that we'll be in much danger, of course..."
He might never come back, and here he was trying to reassure the one in hardly any danger at all.
"You always seem to know exactly what I'm thinking, Nuriko," he murmured, smiling gently at the seishi standing a few steps away from him.
Never to see his smile again, never to hear his lilting voice, never to be comforted by words from the only one who seemed to truly understand him...
Nuriko winked. "Call it a woman's intuition, Hotohori-sama." He spied the forgotten brush, and nodded at it. "May I?"
He blinked, confused, then smiled. "Thank you."
Nuriko came forward, picked up the brush, and started running it gently through his soft brown hair with the finesse of a trained harem concubine. "You know, no one else has such beautiful hair or features as you and I, ne, Hotohori-sama," he commented softly. "Not even the women."
"Aa." He knew. He had wondered how it would feel like to run his fingers through that soft violet hair even longer than his, but just as well-kept... feel the smooth pale skin of that feminine face under his lips... feel that lithe slim body against his, safe in his embrace, or writhing underneath him...
"Anou, Hotohori-sama?"
He looked up at Nuriko in the mirror, the other seishi gazing at him while his hands never paused in their work. "Yes, Nuriko?"
"Would you like to come with us tonight? I'm bringing Miaka, Tamahome, and Tasuki to the city to enjoy the sights." Hope shone in those violet eyes, the purple a darker, more intense shade than that flowing silk hair.
Not even one more day before he'd be gone. Did he dare give himself just one chance, just one night? Before it might be too late?
He smiled regretfully. "I have other matters, imperial matters, to attend to tonight. I'm sorry I cannot join you."
He was a coward.
"Oh. Alright, then." Nuriko continued brushing his hair, but the light in his eyes had gone out. "I just thought, well, since we're leaving, you might want to... but no, that's silly, ne? You're the emperor, you have work to do."
He always thought so little of himself, this graceful seishi who was worth more than almost everyone else on earth. "Believe me, if I could, I'd love to, but this is regarding a treaty between our country and Hokkan..."
"You don't have to explain to me, Hotohori-sama. I understand." And he did. Bitter defeat dulled the smile in his eyes, but he understood.
Nuriko understood him perfectly, and never asked anything of him, even though it must hurt the willow seishi everyday, knowing that he refused his love. Nuriko loved so fiercely, yet did not get any in return. He cared so passionately, yet no one showed the same care for him. Couldn't he just give a bit of that love, that emotion back?
"Nuriko..."
"Oh! I have to go before they yell at me for being late!" Nuriko stepped away from him, placing the brush back. He smiled with his eyes closed, and he knew it was to hide the hurt. "Oyasuminasai, Hotohori-sama."
He turned and made his way to the door, purple braid swinging gently, as if mocking his cowardice. Mocking his position as emperor, all-powerful yet totally helpless.
"Wait!"
Those slim shoulders tensed in hope.
One last chance...
"Have fun tonight."
And his heart broke as he watched the other man's hopes shatter.
"Hai, Hotohori-sama. Sweet dreams."
And he left, not looking back.
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He wanted to gather Nuriko into his arms and comfort him; erase the memories from his mind. He hadn't seen it, but he could guess what the scene had looked like... he could see it from the haunted look in Nuriko's eyes, no matter how carefree he acted.
It was his fault. He knew that Nuriko had run after Tamahome and Miaka to avoid him. If he hadn't felt the need to run from him, Nuriko wouldn't have had to witness such a horrifying sight.
Tamahome and Miaka had each other, but Nuriko had no one. If he could only pull Nuriko aside for a moment, just one private moment before they boarded the boat and left...
Instead he smiled, and told Miaka, "Take this sword with you." Comforting the one who did not need it as much, who already had someone to lean on.
He was an emperor. An emperor had obligations, and bodyguards. It was impossible.
But Nuriko might never come back...
He wanted to run up to him, tell him that he loved him and that he'd better stay alive, because he needed him. He had to tell him now, before it was too late. Before he left, and all that remained was the faint memory of his laughter. But all he did was smile and tell Miaka 'be careful', and avoid looking at Nuriko, and stand there clutching the toy bear as they sailed off.
*When you come back,* he mentally promised, *I'll be waiting, and I'll tell you what I should have told you long ago.*
*When you come back.*
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But he never did.
And that night, feeling so very, very alone, he cried himself to sleep, feeling the bite of snow and the tear of claws, and dreamt of violet eyes.
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Reviews, please!
[Ashen Skies][So it was fated...]
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Never Coming Back
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He sat in front of the mirror, brush lying forgotten on the dressing table as he contemplated the coming day. Tomorrow the rest of his fellow seishi would be leaving to look for the Shinzaho. Precocious and innocent Chiriko, gentle and taciturn Mitsukake, wise and enigmatic Chichiri, loyal and caring Tasuki, daring and steadfast Tamahome... and Nuriko. They would be leaving tomorrow, and he wouldn't be going with them.
He wouldn't be going with them, wouldn't be able to protect them, wouldn't be able to do anything but offer useless words of encouragement while sitting safe in his extravagant palace. And if they left, he might never experience anything like the warmth of the previous few days again, since some of them might never come back.
"Hotohori-sama, may I come in?"
They might never come back.
"Sure, Nuriko." As the violet-haired seishi slipped into the room, he added, "I thought I told you not to call me 'sama'? You're a seishi now, Nuriko, equally as important as I am."
They might never come back, and he only had precious little time left with the people he treasured most. The -person- he treasured most, even more than Miaka.
"Hotohori-sama, you know that isn't true. You're the emperor! No matter what, you're still more important than any one of us. So you have to be kept safe. You might not like it, but everyone would feel better if you were. Not that we'll be in much danger, of course..."
He might never come back, and here he was trying to reassure the one in hardly any danger at all.
"You always seem to know exactly what I'm thinking, Nuriko," he murmured, smiling gently at the seishi standing a few steps away from him.
Never to see his smile again, never to hear his lilting voice, never to be comforted by words from the only one who seemed to truly understand him...
Nuriko winked. "Call it a woman's intuition, Hotohori-sama." He spied the forgotten brush, and nodded at it. "May I?"
He blinked, confused, then smiled. "Thank you."
Nuriko came forward, picked up the brush, and started running it gently through his soft brown hair with the finesse of a trained harem concubine. "You know, no one else has such beautiful hair or features as you and I, ne, Hotohori-sama," he commented softly. "Not even the women."
"Aa." He knew. He had wondered how it would feel like to run his fingers through that soft violet hair even longer than his, but just as well-kept... feel the smooth pale skin of that feminine face under his lips... feel that lithe slim body against his, safe in his embrace, or writhing underneath him...
"Anou, Hotohori-sama?"
He looked up at Nuriko in the mirror, the other seishi gazing at him while his hands never paused in their work. "Yes, Nuriko?"
"Would you like to come with us tonight? I'm bringing Miaka, Tamahome, and Tasuki to the city to enjoy the sights." Hope shone in those violet eyes, the purple a darker, more intense shade than that flowing silk hair.
Not even one more day before he'd be gone. Did he dare give himself just one chance, just one night? Before it might be too late?
He smiled regretfully. "I have other matters, imperial matters, to attend to tonight. I'm sorry I cannot join you."
He was a coward.
"Oh. Alright, then." Nuriko continued brushing his hair, but the light in his eyes had gone out. "I just thought, well, since we're leaving, you might want to... but no, that's silly, ne? You're the emperor, you have work to do."
He always thought so little of himself, this graceful seishi who was worth more than almost everyone else on earth. "Believe me, if I could, I'd love to, but this is regarding a treaty between our country and Hokkan..."
"You don't have to explain to me, Hotohori-sama. I understand." And he did. Bitter defeat dulled the smile in his eyes, but he understood.
Nuriko understood him perfectly, and never asked anything of him, even though it must hurt the willow seishi everyday, knowing that he refused his love. Nuriko loved so fiercely, yet did not get any in return. He cared so passionately, yet no one showed the same care for him. Couldn't he just give a bit of that love, that emotion back?
"Nuriko..."
"Oh! I have to go before they yell at me for being late!" Nuriko stepped away from him, placing the brush back. He smiled with his eyes closed, and he knew it was to hide the hurt. "Oyasuminasai, Hotohori-sama."
He turned and made his way to the door, purple braid swinging gently, as if mocking his cowardice. Mocking his position as emperor, all-powerful yet totally helpless.
"Wait!"
Those slim shoulders tensed in hope.
One last chance...
"Have fun tonight."
And his heart broke as he watched the other man's hopes shatter.
"Hai, Hotohori-sama. Sweet dreams."
And he left, not looking back.
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He wanted to gather Nuriko into his arms and comfort him; erase the memories from his mind. He hadn't seen it, but he could guess what the scene had looked like... he could see it from the haunted look in Nuriko's eyes, no matter how carefree he acted.
It was his fault. He knew that Nuriko had run after Tamahome and Miaka to avoid him. If he hadn't felt the need to run from him, Nuriko wouldn't have had to witness such a horrifying sight.
Tamahome and Miaka had each other, but Nuriko had no one. If he could only pull Nuriko aside for a moment, just one private moment before they boarded the boat and left...
Instead he smiled, and told Miaka, "Take this sword with you." Comforting the one who did not need it as much, who already had someone to lean on.
He was an emperor. An emperor had obligations, and bodyguards. It was impossible.
But Nuriko might never come back...
He wanted to run up to him, tell him that he loved him and that he'd better stay alive, because he needed him. He had to tell him now, before it was too late. Before he left, and all that remained was the faint memory of his laughter. But all he did was smile and tell Miaka 'be careful', and avoid looking at Nuriko, and stand there clutching the toy bear as they sailed off.
*When you come back,* he mentally promised, *I'll be waiting, and I'll tell you what I should have told you long ago.*
*When you come back.*
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But he never did.
And that night, feeling so very, very alone, he cried himself to sleep, feeling the bite of snow and the tear of claws, and dreamt of violet eyes.
+++++
Reviews, please!
[Ashen Skies][So it was fated...]
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