Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Ateratraatrum Noxnoctis ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Atra Ater Atrum Nox Noctis

Chapter 5

Stretching back, Brennan sat contentedly on the low branch of a thick cedar tree in the local park, watching the locals wander around in the nearby bustling, lively market place, going about their daily business. Scornfully he snorted. They were so naïve. They hadn't a care in the world. Rationing hadn't been introduced into their world yet. They were still living comfortably as other Europeans struggled.

He then smirked. He knew it wouldn't be long before these people learnt that life wasn't so beautiful. England was passing legislation to also hand out ration booklets in Scotland, Wales and Ireland in order to provide their army unit with more supplies. He didn't care what the supplies were as long as they didn't touch the arsenal and alcohol supply. If they did, then there'd be something to bellyache about. But until then, everything seemed relatively fine.

Cracking his knuckles, he placed his hands behind his head and shut his eyes. Concentrating he flared the character of yoku on his arm to life. He smiled at it. It was beautiful, but he had no idea what it meant. He reckoned it might have a name that was linked to religion and beauty of life. That was his hope at least.

With it glowing resiliently on his forearm, he pulled out a small scrap piece of mental he had moulded into something of a fan. He had seen something like it in his dreams. He remembered that there was an incantation that went with it. Leeka Shinen. That had been the command to make the flames come out of the fan.

Holding it away from his body, his lips and voice formed the very words of the incantation that sparked the flames to shoot out from the metal. "Leeka Shinen!"

He watched in awe. It was eerily beautiful. He could create fire from his metal with the utterance of two simple words. It was the best weapon he had. He had recently discovered how to use it, but had never put it in practice. He had to perfect the act of using it, which he had yet to do. That he could work on in time.

'So, this must be part of my powers from my past as "Tasuki". Interesting. I wonder if my speed was part of it or if it just comes naturally to me…' Brennan mused, twirling the scrap metal fan in his hand. He chuckled at the thought. It was very interesting.

He then sighed loudly. Despite what he was learning about his past, the past few days had been dreary and so utterly boring. He hadn't seen hide or hair of Séamus. He had only heard from a few of his friends that the young man was showing another the ropes of the place. He had also heard rumours that the young man that his friend was playing host to was possibly his brother.

'This place is so damned bloody boring, I'm mad with boredom that I might just join the damned war against the assholes called the Nationalists. I need something to do, anything! This is just so boring!' Brennan groaned. How he loathed this. He needed something to occupy his idle hands.

'I could go and try to find Séamus, or there's always that military chick who works for the general, I wonder when her break is?!' he mused, jumping down from his branch. 'That's what I'll do. I'll try and court the lass tonight. Best thing in a skirt these days!'

~~~~

Dear diary,

I fear that the Germans will put us in the POW camps soon. They seem to get crueller and crueller by the day and there is no dawning hope. Everything is so black. I fear the worse is yet to come. Will I live to see another day or will I get thrown mercilessly into the legendary German POW camps that everyone speaks fearfully of? Oh Lord, I don't want to end up there. But we can't give into the Nazis. They already rule us with an iron fist. I fear they might be seeing through our façade. What happens next, I do not now. But what I do know is fear, for the new leader here is more fearsome than the others have been and I have a dreadful feeling he won't leave soon.

I can only cling to a false hope and put my knife away for another day and forgo slitting my wrist and spilling my blood at the mercy of my forgiving Lord as a sacrifice to escape this hell. Maybe if I cling to the same fading hope I just might make. But I'm very unsure now as Anne has taken her life.

Many of us were sadden by her death, but the Lieutenant, I believe his name is Lieutenant Johann Van Eyke isn't the least bit remorseful at the thought of her death. Now, I just pray for her soul so she may enter heaven. I have a sinking feeling more of us will be entering heaven and their souls will have to be prayed for.

It has now been over a year since we've been occupied…a year since I've thought of my way of escaping. For now, I can only dream a childish dream that my prince charming, my gallant knight in shining armour, will rescue me.

Signed,

Aimée Beauregard. 12/30/1941

~~~~

Chelsea lived in the main city, in the heart of it, in a prominent Catholic neighbourhood that was known to be pacifistic in its ways. That's why she had chosen it when she had moved from her quaint home in Wales. She liked it because it was in the city but it wasn't as ridden with violence as some of the other places in the main sector of the city.

She stood in front of a full-length mirror she had in her flat, examining her appearance. She snorted distastefully. She didn't know why a woman of her intellect needed to waste time on something as trivial as make-up and clothing when she could be getting her Bachelor of Arts from Oxford or another well-known prestigious university in the British Isles instead of wasting away in a meagre secretarial position. This was her reward for all her hard work instead of her much desired degree in Astronomy.

But then she remembered the reason for her rejection, she was female and her place was in the kitchen behind the stove, slaving away for some macho, sexist pig that didn't give a damn about her honour and saw her only as a breeder for his heir. She felt she wasn't one of those types of women. She felt her destiny carried for more her. She had been an active follower of the festering feminists' movements around the world as the rest of the world bargained for its rights from its ruling class government.

Heaving a resigned sigh, Chelsea pulled on a simple cotton dress, tying the belt at the waist and slipping on the shoes. She was dressing because she had a young man come to her and offer to court her. She had accepted as she felt a connection to him. Everything from his strange fanged smile to his stunningly striking red hair had caught her fancy.

Staring in the mirror that the young woman that stared back at her, she placed a hand on the mirror. 'Is this destiny? Some reason it seems to be. That's what it looked like last night in the stars.'

Chelsea paused in mid thought. 'The stars? Stars?!'

The stars of the Suzaku Seishi are moving in an unlucky way.

She blinked once more, tugging on the revealing neckline of her dress as she contemplated what just went through her mind. She had never quite understood her fascination with stars. But once she started her dreams, she found a connection. Her past. A past life in which she was a child genius.

She smiled wanly, remembering that. At least she had her one chance to be something and she had succeeded, though she had died. She had been nothing in terms of the best warrior, but she had been exceptionally smart and that had claimed her side victory.

'Chiriko…was that my name? And Brennan, he-he looks and seems to be a lot like….Tasuki-san! Brennan's Tasuki-san!!' She thought excitedly. She remembered how she had looked up to him and how gingerly he had held her other body as she died, saving the Suzaku Seishi from Miboshi.

She then touched her hand over the spot that she had stabbed herself in as Ou Doukun; Chiriko. She shut her eyes and sighed softly, a small stream of tears leaving her eyes. She hoped that Brennan would remember who she had been…

~~~~

The young woman, accompanied by her parents, stepped off the vessel that had departed from Tokyo and docked in Shanghai, China. They were taking a small break before departing again for the long trip that would take them around India, up through the Persian Gulf and into the Mediterranean Sea. The last leg of the journey would land in the British Isles where the group of asylum seekers would try and reach Dublin where the Axis was welcomed openly by the IRA.

She sighed, fingering the sash of her kimono. She didn't know how much more she could stand. She had been ushered from her homeland, shoved out to China; which reminded her far too much of Kutou. She shivered at the thought. She had bad memories of this place. Nothing good had been there, except the one youth, whom she hadn't expected to become her knight in shining armour.

She gazed up at the sky. She had done this many nights while in Kutou. She had grown accustomed to the constellations that littered the eastern quadrant of the sky. Her eyes pinpointed the one that mattered most. Raising her hand, she traced over the constellation for her protector.

'Suboshi. Will I ever see you again?' She placed her hand over her eyes as she brushed away free falling tears from her cerulean blue eyes. This was normal; she had melancholia ever since returning from the other world. Her friends had been very concerned for her, but she had blatantly insisted that she was fine.

Deep down inside, she wasn't. She was killing herself. She had no one to love her and that's all she ever wanted. The one person that had, she had pushed him away in the blindness of her pain in order to protect herself. Now she regretted it. She wished she hadn't. She needed him more than she had ever been willing to admit before.

Now she would admit. She had no shame in it. However, now was too late. It was too late for admissions of love, acceptance, or even a chance at friendship. She had foolishly thrown that out the window. She was now left with nothing but a false hope that he, like Tamahome, had been given a second chance, and was now somewhere in this god-awful, cursed world that hated her.

'Look at you, Yui! You're pitiful!' Hongou Yui chastised herself, as she stared into a curtained shop window. She wasn't with her parents at this time, she was alone, wandering the main streets. She had paused, staring in the window of a shop that had closed before sundown.

She stared at her face. She was a shadow of the bright-faced youth lady she had been. She was now nothing; withered to a zombie who went through the everyday routine of life without much thought to what she was doing. She had more than once since her return to her home, contemplated taking her life. She had come close to trying, but tossed the knife aside after her mother walked in on her.

Putting her hands in the front pocket of her kimono, she trudged on, wondering why she was living at all. She had no one living for her and she had no one to live for. She knew she needed a person otherwise she'd surely die before her time.