Fushigi Yuugi: Seeing is Not Believing
The feeling hits me like a blow to the stomach. With me are
Chichiri, Mistukake and Chiriko, and I can tell that they feel it
too. All four of us stop walking, turning to look over our
shoulders at the mountain behind us.
"Something's wrong," I say.
"I feel it too, no da," Chiriko adds.
"We should run," Mitsukake says calmly, though I know he must be
shaken inside. I myself feel barely capable of moving that far,
even though I know I must.
Chichiri, at least, takes us outside the city. "It is all I can
manage with so many of us, no da," he explains. It is different
from when he took Miaka and I to Nakago's palace in Kotou. Then
we charge up the mountain as fast as we can, following the
obvious trail left for us. We didn't stop to consider that it
might have been a trap.
We finally reached the mountaintop, slightly out of breath from
the steep climb rather than the knee-deep snow. The sight that
greeted us was enough to take it away.
Nuriko is lying on the ground, the front of his clothing ripped
open. Miaka is on her knees beside him, bent over. Her sobs were
clearly heard. Beside her, Tamahome gets to his feet and walks
over to me, his head down. I can see the play of sunlight on the
tears that stain his cheeks. He stops so close to me, I can
almost feel the heat rising off his body.
"A few minutes ago," he starts, so quiet that I doubt the others
could hear him. He continues in a voice meant only for me to
hear.
My eyes widen at the news; I can't help it. Surely it can not be
true. I lean around Tamahome, for he will not let me pass. "HEY
DUMMY!!!" I yell at Nuriko. "GET UP!!! YOU'RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE!
Get up!! You can fool Tamahome-kun, but you can't fool me!"
Frustrated that he would not respond and knowing that something
was wrong, though I could not believe what Tamahome had said, I
turn from the slightly taller man and approach Mitsukake.
"You can heal him, right?" I say, leaning on him with one arm
folded on his shoulder. The grin on my face is something less
than sane. Mitsukake does not move. "What's the matter?" I
continue, moving only slightly to grab the front of his shirt in
both hands and lean towards him. "You can do it, right?" Still,
he doesn't respond. His eyes closed, he turns his head from me.
"HEY!! YOU CAN DO THAT!!" I shout, wanting so desperately to
believe that he could. He stays absolutely still; even Neko-Tama
is quiet. "Can't you?" I ask, much quieter.
Only then did I believe what Tamahome had said. Nuriko was dead,
killed by one of the Seiryuu seishi. Inside, I accept it and
mourn his death. Outside, I still cling to Mitsukake. Unbidden,
tears gather in my eyes and slip out. "What's wrong with you?" I
demand. "He was fine yesterday...talking...Can't you do it?"
Behind me, Miaka rises, staggers a few steps away.
"_NURIKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_!!!" she screams, running off towards a
bank of snow.
I drop my hands from Mitsukake's shirt, stepping back. I stare at
the ground some distance behind him. I wish that I could be like
Miaka and run off, but I feel too numb, too stunned. Instead, I
slowly turn around to stare at Nuriko, lying in the cold snow.
"Sit down," Mitsukake urges then, the first time he has spoken
since we arrived. He gives me a gentle shove in the direction of
a large boulder lying nearby. Unable to resist, I stagger over to
it, sinking down to the snow in the shade cast by the sun. My
back to the unfeeling stone, I can only stare as Chichiri,
Mitsukake and Chiriko gather around Nuriko. Tamahome disappears
out of my line of sight, going in the same direction Miaka has
gone. I see him, but I do not SEE him. I can only see Nuriko
through the blur of tears that still flow unchecked.
"He was always immaculate," Chiriko reflects sorrowfully.
Sometimes I can forget that he is only 13 years old.
"He always did like looking his best, no da," Chichiri agrees.
"I can remove all the traces of injury," Mitsukake says. He holds
his hand, palm open, over Nuriko's chest. I watch, transfixed, as
the blood disappears from his pale skin and his clothing
restored. Now, more than before, he looks like he is sleeping. I
can't stop the tears from falling.
Tamahome drags Miaka back then, actually dragging her. He has a
good hold on her collar, though she protests loudly, saying that
she doesn't want to see Nuriko right now.
"Look," Tamahome orders quietly. "He looks like he's sleeping."
Miaka stands there, staring, looking like nothing more than a
broken doll.
"Here are his bracelets," Chichiri says, pressing the metal bands
into her hands. "I think he would have liked for you to have
them."
I rise then, approaching her almost warily. "This is his hair," I
say, dropping the tiny purple bag on top of the bracers. "Maybe
we should bury it with him." I bite my lip, not believing that I
have just said that. What a time for all my bad manners to kick
in. Then I stand with the other seishi behind Miaka.
"He lived his last moment as a Suzaku seishi," Mitsukake tells
her. "We should remember that."
"I never could tell if he was a man or a woman," I throw in.
"Nuriko was...Nuriko," Miaka answers.
She stares at the objects in her hands for a few moments. "I'll
go on," she whispers, slipping the bracers onto her wrists. "For
Nuriko. He would have wanted it that way."
Luna Ayanami
ayanami@highlandgrey.com
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I wrote this less than a week after I watched episode 33 for the
second time. Some of the details probably aren't too acurate, but
I also had two midterms and a unit test the week I wrote it! I
wrote this for two reasons (just what everyone wants to spoil
it!!). One, I was paticularily struck with Tasuki's reaction,
which I felt was the worst one. Losing someone you care for is
bad enough, but to steadfastedly refuse to believe it until
someone has to SHOW you... Two, I have never really explored
writing from an existing character's point of view in this
fashion. It's one of the first pieces I have ever attempted in
this fashion; Please feel free to comment on my work. Arigato!!
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