Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Dazzling ❯ Getting To Know You ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Dazzling

Chapter 2: Getting Aquatinted

Tamahome woke up to the sound of his cell phone singing to him. His eyes drifted open, but they felt like they were made of lead. The sun was slanting through the window at an odd angle. He shrugged it off and sleepily searched for the phone without leaving the comfort of his pillow. Damn his head was splitting.

There was a soft beeping noise and he put the small razor to his ear. Before he had even gotten he change to say hello. "YOU ASS!"

Tamahome winced, both his head and his heart broke. Miaka was screaming at him from the other line. "YOU HAD ME WORRIED SICK!" she continued the berating.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and groaned. His head was going to split right in two. "Miaka?" he looked at the phone to make sure it was her name on the ID. "Twenty missed calls?" he said in amazement as he saw the time. It was nearly two in the afternoon.

"..-en Yui found out and told me and I was up all night trying to call you." Tamahome tuned in on the rant in time to hear the end. He sighed and gingerly got up. Every movement felt like an earthquake that was ripping apart his brain. He wandered to the fridge still holding the phone out and listening to Miaka yell at him from a foot away.

"A, I was out with Keisuke last night. You should have known that and B, can I explain how much this is not your business anymore?"

"But he came back to Tetsuya's and you weren't with them. They said they left you at a bar and I thought you might have been picked up-" Tamahome paused at that. He did remember going home with someone last night. He looked around the apartment and saw no trace though.

Back on the phone, Miaka had started to cry.

Tamahome winced again, but held his ground. "Miaka, stop." he said in a soft but firm voice. "You said you were happy. I'm respecting that and I ... I understand. But, Miaka... You don't have any more right to ask about where I was or what I was doing. You gave that up when you told me you were leaving." Tears threatened to chock him and right now, tears were going to be the death of him with his head in the condition it was in. He sat back on the bed with his glass and sipped it as he spoke. Then, something caught his eye. A small slip of paper with a number scribbled on it. He picked it up and cocked a brow. He remembered vague visions of what happened, he remembered coming back at one point and he remembered a girl with red hair- No wait... that was a guy. His head hurt and he wasn't in the mood to put together puzzles. "I'm alive." he explained to the dead silence on the other end. "Thanks for worrying, but please don't call me again... ok?"

There was a long pause on the other end, and then, "Ok..."

He could hear her heart breaking, but what did she think it was going to be like? Break up with your boyfriend who was supposed to be forever, supposed to be fate and destiny for whatever reason and then call him every day and pretend he's just a friend? That wasn't happening.

He said good bye and clicked off the phone. If his head weren't about to explode, he would have cried. He felt like shit. One night out to forget everything wasn't going to be the solution. He forgot all right, but all he forgot was the 'fun' he had and everything was right here waiting for him when he came to. Tamahome lay down and closed his eyes; sipping water and nursing his hang over.

000

To say that Terry was happy that his fling last night hadn't called him would be an utter and despicable lie. He'd gotten home around three in the morning and had lay in his bed, thinking about Tamahome. He felt like a heel for leaving like he had, but knew that if Tamahome was as drunk as he'd assumed and judging by the speed with which he had passed out, then it was better to leave a number rather than wake up to a possible screaming fit.

He didn't know if Tamahome even remembered him, but he should have at least seen the number and asked who he was if he didn't remember. It was two in the afternoon already, and judging by his current luck with good guys, he wasn't going to call.

He'd spent the day shopping; his cell phone on and waiting for a call that might not -and hadn't- come. He worked because he liked the attention, not because he had to. The penthouse apartment he lived in was proof of that.

But, it seemed his job at Razzle-Dazzle was soon to be ending. Yeah, dancing in a dark room full of horny men was a thrill, but his sets were getting cut and he didn't get as much attention as he liked. The fact that he never had a routine ready before hand might not have helped keep him in Rick's good graces either.

If he'd done like his mother had asked, he'd be in ballet instead of exotic dancing. But the ballet was full of faceless, cookie-cutter dancers who had to look and dance exactly like the other dancers did in order for it to be uniform. He didn't like that.

Now, sitting in his mother's office, watching her write out reports on the latest fiscal years influx of aspiring ballet performers, he felt very petty. "Ma, can ya stop looking at those stupid papers and talk to me? I'm your only son, ya know. Its not like Dad's gonna come back from the grave and give ya anymore kids. Please, look at me?"

Amira simply continued to look at the reports, "Terry, I've told you before that I don't think that your job is a decent one. You shame me as much as you shame your father's name. You're a beautiful dancer; you should be in America on tour with the companies there. Not at some stupid little gay bar, stripping off your clothes so that drunk men can paw at you. Until you see reason and accept the ballet proposal, I will not look at you. Please, leave my office."

Terry growled but stood and left without another word.

000

Around five that night Tamahome woke up again. His head felt exponentially better. That wasn't to say that it felt GOOD, just better than death. He yawned and woke up. His sleep schedule was going to be screwed, but it didn't really matter. He went about his routine as if it were morning, brushing his teeth and combing his hair. When he sat down on the bed again, his eyes wandered to the slip of paper.

That was proof that he had done more than anything innocent the night before. It made him feel bad that he was out having some kind of fun and Miaka was at home worrying about him, but he shook it off. This was stupid. She didn't have any right to make him feel guilty on top of breaking his heart. He picked up the paper and his cell phone. He should call. If his Swiss cheese memory was serving him correctly, that guy deserved a call.

Punching in the numbers and putting the phone to his ear, he waited and listened to it ring.

000

Terry sat at the bar, filling Mac's ears with all of his frustrations, as was his usual tendency on his off days. He'd been tempted to skip the drink Mac had pushed at him when he'd begun his 'mother' rant but snatched it up and downed it in one go. The vodka burned down his throat, making him cough but he pounded his chest a few times to get the breath back in his lungs.

He'd been there about an hour already, but only two shots in, when his phone rang. Too grumpy to read the caller ID, he just flipped it open and put it to his ear. "Yo, 's Terry. What do ya want?" He muttered into the phone as he waved away Mac's offer of another drink and went outside so that he could hear over the music.

Terry. Thank god he said his name first.

"Hi, Terry, um..." what does one say after meeting up with someone when utterly sloshed and going home and… “I found your number on my nightstand and I thought I'd give you a call. This is Tamahome." he scrambled to correct that he hadn't given his name yet. Well, though it wasn't the most charming way of saying it, he had made his introductory sentences.

Terry stopped as the door swung shut behind him. "Tama? Damn, I had given up on ya callin'. How's your head? You must'a been really drunk last night, you fell asleep not long after we got to your place." Maybe that would ease his mind; not knowing exactly how far things had gone. Maybe it would entice Tama to be a little less 'oh my god, I'm so nervous' and open him up a little bit.

"Oh really?" he thought about it. He had sworn there were some very good memories of the night before, but if someone else told him something different had happened, he wasn't going to argue. "My head feels better than when I first woke up, but not great." he laughed about that. It was like sharing an inside joke with a perfect stranger. "How are you doing? Sorry I passed out on you the other night. We went to far too many bars than we should have."

He got up, stretched and walked to the window where the sun was setting. He looked out and watched a few people walking together down the street int he dying light. He puffed out a dry laugh. The guy on the other end sounded like someone he used to know, not exact, but close enough. It made him feel really nostalgic, especially with the 'Tama' he insisted on calling him.

Terry laughed, "Yeah, kinda. Glad to know ya didn't chop off your head when ya woke up, I know ya hadda feel like shit." He teased, a smile in his voice. "I'm okay, just have too much junk to put away after I went shopping. Oh, did you know that you put a hundred dollars into my garter belt last night? I've still got it, I figured that you didn't realize how big of a bill ya put in there and might want it back. I was flattered, but I know you were really drunk."

He wanted to keep Tamahome talking, maybe after he felt a little more comfortable, then going out to dinner wouldn't throw him so much. He could always use the excuse of returning the money, but he was afraid that Tama might see through it and decide it was better to just cut his losses than to spend time with someone like him. Gods only knew what the other man thought of him now that he was sober.

"A HUNDRED!" His jaw nearly dropped to the ground. "I mean... not that you weren't worth it. Or er... the dancing, not the... afterward... you. I'm not saying you work for money… or that..." he sighed. "Sorry. That was a terrific landing. Huh? A perfect ten. Sorry."

He paced to the kitchen again and opened the fridge out of lack of things to do. It was fairly bare. He hadn't cared enough to go shopping since she left him. "So hey. Now that I've made a complete ass of myself, you want to still see me? Unless… you don't do that kind of thing."

What was he thinking? People who worked at and went to strip clubs to pick people up, end up …well waking up naked the next morning with a hangover and a number, did not end up out on dates afterward.

Terry laughed, "I know that ain't what ya..." He trailed off. "Like, datin'?" He smiled to himself. "I'd like that, I was about to ask ya out to dinner but I was tryin' to get my courage up. Want to go out tonight or wait until another night? I'm off for the next couple of days, and I'm gonna quit the bar probably."

"Why?" he asked, surprised to hear about the change of plans. "Tomorrow is better, let's meet each other when I don't still smell like whiskey."

It was reassuring that he wanted to go out too. He really didn't have any clue where it would go, but he wanted to see the person he had been intimate with just once again without the pretence of alcohol. One-night stands weren't his thing and he hated to see anyone on the loosing end of one either. "There's a nice restaurant down on kikubaya square. It's a Korean Barbecue place. Great food, if you like that..."

Terry shuffled his feet, glad that Tamahome couldn't see him at the moment. "No reason, but yeah, that sounds good. Tomorrow around when? I've got an appointment at three tomorrow afternoon, but I'm free after that."

He leaned back against the wall, eyes closed and head tipped back. "You probably don't smell that bad."

Tamahome was smiling. "Five is a good time. Meet me there then." He put the phone on his shoulder and threw on some socks. He had to get out and about today so he felt he was alive. "Oh and um. I'd really rather if you came as yourself."

Terry grinned. "Just so ya know, I don't dress in drag unless I'm at work. See ya at five tomorrow at the restaurant. Ja na, Tama-chan." And flipped his phone closed.

Tamahome listened to the click from the other end, not taking the phone away from his ear. Tama-chan, a sad smile slipped over his lips. It was like being back home. He was even about to tell Tasuki to stop calling him that. It ached in his chest as the nostalgia pawed at him. He missed the world where he grew up, where his family was buried and where he knew everything around him.

It had been four years since he had been back there and most of the time it was spent distracted by the idea that he would get married to the girl he was head over heals in love with. Recently it had all been changed- more than that it had thrown to the floor and stomped on. It all was confusing and left him alone and aching for something he could identify with. He was trapped here now, in a world that was foreign to him with no one but his ex-girlfriend's brother to talk with.

Tamahome sighed and shut off the phone, grabbing his coat and heading outside to start his day

Terry all but floated back to his apartment, happy and nervous about his date the next afternoon. Happy because Tamahome had asked, but nervous over if this would be one of those; 'I'm sorry, but we can't see each other again, I'm married with 12 kids' dates, even though his apartment had shown no signs of either wife or children.

The rest of the day and well into the evening, Terry had spent making his apartment perfect. He wasn't planning anything, but on the off chance that things went well and Tamahome wanted to see his home, at least it would be clean and orderly when he showed up.

Tamahome stood waiting in front of the restaurant the next day, arms crossed and his hands in the pockets of his long trench coat. It wasn't that cold out, but being from a southern land, even the warmest fall day was too chilly to go without a jacket. The place was bustling. Patrons were coming in and out with laughs and smiles. Tamahome glanced at his watch. Terry wasn't late, but Tamahome had shown up early just in case.

The hostess came up to him again and asked if he was ready to get a table. He shook his head and told her that he was still waiting for someone. She nodded and he gave her a smile. It actually felt nice to be waiting for someone, looking forward to something was refreshing. He glanced around, looking for the shock of red hair he was familiar with. Then, his heart sank. He saw a smiling girl with brown/red hair, show up in the crowd and she was heading this way. Tamahome cringed, and looked away. 'Please don't be coming here, please don't be coming here'. He pleaded with the gods.

After his appointment with Rick to discuss terms of quitting the club, he'd gone home and begun the agonizing chore of finding something to wear that wasn't too conservative or too showy. He decided on a pair of skin-tight black jeans and a bulky creme colored sweater with the sleeves pushed up. Tamahome had said to wear his usual clothes, but that didn't stop him from trying to look as androgynous as possible. Long red hair pulled back in a low braid, he made his way to the restaurant.

When he showed up and found Tamahome, he found him standing in front of a pretty girl with an expression of pure sorrow. He crept closer to hear what was being said.

Miaka flung herself at Tamahome, a wide smile on her face. It had taken a lot of determination to keep from calling him all day as he had asked, but now she could see him. "Tamahome! It's so great to see you! Did Keisuke tell you I was coming here for dinner tonight? Aww, he's so cute trying to get us back together." She rambled, talking over him as though he weren't even trying to speak.

"Oh, you are so sweet to try and get back together with me, I'm sure that after I've found myself again, I'll come back. Just wait for me, Tamahome."

Tamahome winced as he heard his name sung out over the crowd and the pretty little college girl jumped at him. No he didn't want to hug her, no he didn't want to talk, and no he WASN'T trying to get back together with her.

"Miaka, I-" she cut him off every time he tried to say anything. His 'Miaka, wait' and 'No it's not' sentence starters were shot down in the same way. He stopped trying and just let her smile up at him as if his heart wasn't split in two and listened to her tell him how if he just waited, she would get back together with him. "Found yourself, right..." he muttered to himself.

He was just starting to feel better and now he was miserable again, standing once more in his apartment, blinking down at her speechless over her words of how she needed to split up with him.

Terry had seen enough to know that Tamahome was not happy to see this girl. A grin curved his lips as he stepped away from his hiding spot, pushed the girl aside and hopped up into Tamahome's arms, legs round his hips, arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips in greeting. He kept his voice slightly higher, just in case Tama didn't want this girl to know he was dating a man. "Tama-baby! Oh, I missed you so much. Did you miss me? I'm so sorry I'm late, honey, I got caught up in traffic." He gushed to the man now having to hold him. As if just noticing the girl he'd pushed aside, he looked over his shoulder at her. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I interrupt, honey?"

Miaka stared at the pretty girl mauling her boyfriend. "Get off of him! He's taken!" She yelled, pulling the red headed woman's arm to get her off of Tamahome.

Terry smirked, "I know he's taken. He's mine."

Miaka glared at the pretty redhead that was draped so casually over HER man! "You bimbo! Get off of him! He's mine!" She grabbed a handful of red braid and yanked, hard, but the other woman only winced and clung tighter to Tamahome.

Tamahome was in shock. The boy he was waiting for glomped him. He was forced to wrap his arms around the small hips to keep him from falling, Miaka just called him HER'S still and now the two people he was dating and not dating were in a cat fight while still attached to him.

He shut his eyes and gathered his frustration. "STOP IT!" he shouted at both of them. "Terry, get down. Miaka, let him go!" he ordered the two. "We're here together."

Miaka's eyes went wide; "Did you just say 'Him'?" The red braid falling from her grasp in shock. She just stood there and watched the MAN that was attached to her boyfriend slip out of his arms and grin at her. The GUY was familiar, and it took all of three seconds to realize just who it was. "Oh my god, you're fucking Tasuki?! Tamahome! That's a GUY!"

Terry crossed his arms and sighed. "Look lady, unless you couldn't tell by the look of utter disgust on his face while you were happily rambling off that load of bull shit you were feeding him, then you'd have shut up and I wouldn't have had to do that. No, I'm not this Tasuki person." He stopped to frown slightly at Tamahome, giving him a look that implied they would talk about that after Miaka left.

Miaka ignored the redhead, eyes still wide and filled with horror. "You want me to leave you alone so that you can fuck Tasuki? Are you insane? Tamahome, you're both men!"

Terry sighed and threw his hands up. "Tama, when you're done with Miss 'Doesn't listen to anyone but herself', I'll meet you at a table. If you bail on me, it'll be okay."

Tamahome was grateful Terry had left. He would definitely need to do some explaining later, but he cared enough about Miaka to not have to tell her what he had to tell her with the 'other man' still around.

Ignoring the stares, giggles and shaking of heads as the people over heard Miaka screaming to the world that he was fucking another guy, he took her by the shoulders and stared her in the eye.

"Miaka, you broke up with me. I don't know if you remember, but you did. I'm NOT yours anymore. You can't expect someone to just wait around like a puppy for its master to MAYBE come back again. You told me you didn't know if you would be back. You told me you were happier to go off and 'find yourself'." He gathered up his courage to go on. "I love you Miaka, but you're not in love with me anymore. I'm happy to see you happy, so I'm ok with what you want to do, but you can't get mad at me for seeing someone else. You gave up that right, I told you."

He let go of her shoulders and straightened up, still holding back the tears that wanted to come out, holding back wanting to hold her.

"I didn't tell you to not call me because of Terry. I just can't still have you in my life if you don't want to be with me. It hurts too much still. So, if you want to be here, I'll go tell him we're going somewhere else. Other wise, I really would appreciate it if you left."

Miaka's eyes filled with tears. "But, you can't be with someone else. If you love me still, then wait for me to be ready, please." She sniffled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "I don't love you, but you can't go to someone else. It's not fair. You're my warrior, and you say that you love me, but you're dating someone else!"

She shook her head. "No, I guess that's not right. Just because I don't want you to be with anyone else doesn't mean that you shouldn't. I'm sorry for embarrassing you and for the mean things I said about Tasuki- I mean Terry." She took a deep breath and let it out in a wobbly smile. "I didn't have a reservation, I saw you and remembered meeting you here for dinner... I guess I got carried away with trying to make things as normal for you as I could."

Terry watched them from the back booth, her tears were visible and he felt bad for causing them. He had just gotten to his feet to go and tell them he was leaving when she turned and walked away. Confused as to what was happening, he sat and waited for Tamahome to come to him. He'd find out if he'd messed up their relationship and if so, he'd go and apologize to her- if he could find her.

Tamahome walked back into the shop and looked for the table where his date was sitting. It wasn't hard to find him, the hair alone was an obvious calling card. Not to mention he was the prettiest face in the whole establishment.

"Hey." he said as he sat down across from him. "Sorry about that. I didn't know she would be around."

He slid the menu over to himself and opened it up, not really looking at what it said.

"You okay? I didn't mess up your relationship, did I? Like, you two were fighting and I just made an ass out of myself, right?" Terry asked, looking at the menu in his lap. He wasn't very sure of himself at the moment, having never actually been in a situation like that before. Most of his dates came out to be finding a fantastic guy only to find out he was married a few months down the road.

"No, she's the one who messed things up." he said with a shake of his head. He really didn't want to unload his troubles on the little less than stranger, but he should have at least a background.

"We were going out for four years. I actually asked her to marry me just a few weeks back and then she ...she said no." he smiled sadly at the ridiculous memory. "She said she wanted to break up, find out what she really wanted. Never actually told me she wasn't in love with me until just now."

He gave a heavy sigh and looked up at the beautiful man across the table. "She never really thought I'd find someone else. Thought I'd be waiting at her doorstep for when she was ready to come back. Guess she's finally coming to grips with just what she did. But, her loss, right?" he said with forced cheerfulness and confidence he didn't feel. "She should have wagered that a handsome guy like me would be snatched up quick."

Terry took a slow breath, "I'm sorry about you and that girl not working out like you wanted, but I'm glad you walked into my bar the other night, even if you were really, really drunk. I feel kinda bad about not tellin' ya flat out that I wasn't the pretty girl you thought you took home. But, in my defense, you did come into a gay strip club."

He looked at the words in front of him but didn't actually read them. "Anyway, enough about sad stuff. I wanna know if you allowed me to pick you up that night because I look like this Tasuki person you and that girl keep going on about. You told me it was the hair, eyes and 'seductive mouth' that were similar, but is that it? It would be kinda freaky to look like a dead guy that you used to be in love with." Giving up the pretense of reading, he folded the menu on the table and gazed over at Tamahome, finally getting a good look at him. He looked nice in that outfit, if a little rumpled from catching and holding both the girl and himself earlier.

He blinked and chuckled at the fact that he had been so blasted that he hadn't realized he dragged Tetsuya and Keisuke into a gay bar that night. A distant look crept into Tamahome's eyes as Terry talked about Tasuki. Even though Tamahome shook his head and laughed at the mention of his 'seductive mouth' he was far away in his memory.

"Tasuki...I wonder if I could ..." he brought himself back a bit. "I don't think I could see halfway straight to say I picked you up because you looked like him. I just happen to be really turned on by redheads. And you were coming on to me. How can I be blamed?" he grinned.

"I'm just going to get the beef. You?"

Terry arched a brow, a smirk curving his lips. "Redheads turn you on, huh? I'll keep that in mind. And, Mr. 'Can't keep his hands to himself', you were very grabby. It was my job to turn you on. But, I will not say that I didn't enjoy it because that wouldn't be true. You were actually in your head enough to not grope anything except my hips and my ass."

He laughed, "I'll have whatever you have as long as you're not going to get plastered again. I couldn't sit.... um, I mean, I walked home that night after you passed out."

"Sorry about all of that." he winced "I usually don't get that bad, but Keisuke insisted I get out after everything and I was pretty damn eager to forget. Speaking about forgetting...I um. I don't really remember everything about that night, unfortunately. Must have been good, but I just can't get more than snip bits. Care to fill me in?"

Terry blushed, "Then you hold your liquor better than anyone I've ever seen. You looked, acted and spoke like you were sober." Sitting back, he draped an arm over the back of his chair and crossed his legs. "What parts do you remember? That way I know what to skip."

He wasn't sure, but it sounded like Tamahome didn't remember their little encounter. If he didn't know, he wasn't going to say anything. It might make him feel bad and then he'd have to wonder if he was dating because he liked him, or if it was out of guilt.

Tamahome smirked at the sideways compliment. Tasuki had taught him everything he knew about holding his liquor, but he wasn't about to mention his old friend's name again.

"I remember being at the bar, and there were all sorts of lights. An incredibly hot redhead started dancing, in a black skirt and they had a whip." he grinned over at his date. "Then, there was a lap dance and I remember something about breaking that no hands rule. After that, I've got you, me, a bed, some very, VERY unforgettable..." He blushed and cleared his throat. "...and somewhere along those lines, I wake up naked with a phone number on my nightstand."

He leaned back and placed their order with the waitress. "So, fill in the holes."

Terry looked at his hands, "You remember that part, huh? Well, we had a very good time, you passed out, and I cleaned us up, got dressed, left my number, covered you up, kissed you good bye and went home. I figured that as quickly as you fell asleep that you were more drunk than I imagined and didn't want to wake up to a screaming fit if you weren't happy about finding a man in your bed."

Looking back at Tamahome, he waited to see what his reaction would be even though he could feel a light blush over his nose. "If you want more detailed that that, then you'll have to remember on your own. But…” He leaned over to whisper the next part to keep from embarrassing either of them further. "That girl is insane if she gave you up. If that was what you are like in bed drunk then damn, sober and I'd be your slave."

Tamahome's face went red and he all of a sudden needed water badly. "I, um...." he coughed and took a nervous sip. "Well, I'm glad there wasn't much more to the night. I mean, none of me making a fool of myself."

The waitress came out and set down the side dishes along with a plate of the raw meat.

"So, how did you become a dancer?" he asked changing the subject so he could gain the normal color back in his face.

Terry laughed and patted his arm. "My mother owns a ballet studio. I've been dancing all of my life. I just don't want to be a Barbie doll like mother wants." Shrugging off the rest of the more personal parts of that explanation, he picked at his food a little bit before deciding it was very tasty and digging in heartily.

"So, what do you do?" He asked, just barely managing to swallow a bite of vegetables before he spoke.

Tamahome opened his mouth to answer and then the smile fell from his face. He didn't do anything here. When he came over, he had to register for school, but high school was nearly done and when college rolled around, he couldn't produce records to get accepted. He had found himself a job as a laborer for a few construction sites, but what he did wasn't really useful in this world.

"I don't know." he answered, feeling like a complete looser. "I would have liked to go to college, but I couldn't. Most jobs won't really hire me because of the same reason. I don't...." he frowned and studied the pretty face across from him. "Do you like to read?" he asked seemingly out of nowhere.

Terry frowned at his explanation and opened his mouth to ask about the vague reply when the subject veered completely off topic. He blinked but nodded. "Read? Yeah, I like it, I guess. Why? You writing a book?" He put down his chopsticks and pushed his plate away, curious for an answer.

Tamahome couldn't hold back the laughter at that ironic statement. "No, not.... I guess not anymore. Or… maybe I really don't know. I'd be pretty fun to find out. They'd have to put it in shrink wrap after our night together, though." He said between laughs. "Maybe one day, if you're interested, you can read up on me. He slapped a few pieces of beef onto the grill and poked around at them.

Terry blinked several times. "What? I think I missed part of the conversation. Someone's writing a book on you? How the hell would they know what happened that night? I thought you didn't really remember. Are you a reporter? I think I'm gonna need a little more explanation than that, Tama-chan. You're talking in riddles!"

His appetite was gone in the face of a very real, very possible chance that he had slept with a madman. He backed away slightly, and reached over his shoulder for something only to realize that whatever it was, wasn't there. Feeling like an idiot for reaching for imaginary items, he scratched the back of his neck and smiled nervously.

Tamahome, unaware that he was freaking out the man across from him, continued explaining. "I'm not a reporter, but maybe if Keisuke still has it, you might understand."

Tamahome paused and watched a familiar movement with scrutinizing eyes. Everything about this guy reminded him of Tasuki. Maybe that's why he decided to open up about the Universe of the four gods.

"The word Suzaku really doesn't ring any bells?" he asked, shaking his head in amazement. "You know..." he opened up the jacket and fished through one of the pockets, pulling out a photo. "Here." he said, sliding it across the table to Terry. "Amazing isn't it? Miaka took it of all of us a few years ago. That one." he said, pointing to the redhead in the dark blue jacket. "Is who I keep talking about."

Terry felt a shiver run down his back at the word 'Suzaku', but shook his head anyway. The photo looked like a bunch of people dressed up in ancient Chinese garments, he shied away from looking at the redhead for a moment, not wanting to see the face of the man he was supposed to look like. "Were you guys like, a theater group? Woah! That guy's got blue hair! Looks kinda like Chiri in a way. 'Course, Chiri's got brown hair and don't smile like she's wearin' a mask. Damn, you were young in this picture!" he gasped, tracing his fingers over the younger image of the man across from him.

After looking at each person in the picture he finally looked at the image of this 'Tasuki' and felt his jaw drop. "Oh my god!" He stared for several minutes, captured by the way that his face and the face in the picture looked almost identical. "I can see why ya love him. He's fuckin' hot, Tama."

"Chichiri?" it was the only word he could get out. He was stunned. The man had just given two clues from no where as to who the people in the picture were. "You know where Chichiri is?" he burst out, a wild hopeful grin on his face.

"You know her? Figures two people named after stars would know each other. Yeah, she lives in a nearby building. She's a teacher at Ma's ballet studio." He answered as if it should have been public knowledge.

"What's with the look... oh, I get it. Arright, after dinner I'll take ya to see her, unless ya wanna go now?" He didn't want to admit he was slightly jealous over the fact that Tamahome seemed so eager to meet Chiri. Maybe walking into the bar last night wasn't a mistake and this was some wild, backwards kind of man hunt for the slim brunette. "You don't wanna hurt her or nothin' right. I'd have to kick your ass if ya tried something like that."

Tamahome laughed. "Hurt? HER? No. That," he said pointing to the monk, "guy's name was Chichiri. Really close to you and me. A monk, and yes that IS a mask." he said, still amazed at the similarities.

"I think there's something more than you think to this, but.. Terry, you really don't have any memories of Konan or Miaka? The universe of the Four gods." Great, now he was sounding like a complete crazy man, but he had to figure this out, maybe he wasn't as alone as he thought.

Terry stood from the table, "Tama, I get that I look like your guy, but I'm not him. I just met you, how can a guy you know who has the same name as a girl I know be friends with you and ME if I never met him? I think I need t'go, Tama-chan. Its- it was nice seein' ya again."

He grabbed up the canvas bag at his feet and all but ran for the door, stopping only long enough to pay the bill. Tamahome was starting- no, no, he HAD scared him. What could he be talking about? He'd just gone on a tangent about memories and people in pictures and confused him for a possible dead guy.

That dinner had quickly hit the top of his weird-shit-o-meter and he had to get out of there before it got worse. He paused outside the restaurant and looked around, trying to find the best escape route.