Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ In Dreams ❯ Chapter 13 ( Chapter 13 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: I own no Fushigi Yuugi Chararcters, Places or Ideas.



"If the heart bleeds and the soul cries, then how can mere words tell you how I hurt for having lost you?"-Sarah Moss.

Tarakai sat in the battle tent, pouting. The servants had been very not amused at her beautiful hair style, so she had come in here to sulk and get away from them. She would have gone to ask Su-chan or Amiboshi, but they had gone off earlier and none of the servants had known where they went, so she was left all alone and in addition to being completely without compliment on her hair, she was bored... She sat cross-legged on the smooth table and ran her hands along the polished wood. She tilted her head as she looked at it. There was something missing. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, but there was something that was- Oh! There was no map! All of the miniscule engravings were missing. She began to trace where the carvings should have been and then her mind flashed again. What had she been thinking! There weren't such things as tables with maps carved into them.

She blinked and then pouted again. She was tired of this desert and ready to go home to- She wasn't sure... Her head began to hurt and she shook it, trying to clear away the pain. She couldn't remember her home... She saw flashes, but each one came with a blinding bolt of pain. She cried out, as the darkness claimed her.


< br> Amiboshi sat next to his brother as they stared over the edge of the small cliff upon which they were sitting. They had just finished telling each other what they done in the past few months. Shun's eyes had leaked tears when he told Amiboshi of how he had murdered Tamahome's family. When he had locked eyes with his little brother all that he had seen in his eyes was regret and remorse. He had not, however, comforted him in the least. Even if he was drugged, he had to take the consequences by himself. Nakago would pay in the after life, he would pay now.

When Amiboshi told Shun about his time as Huaike (Kaika) he had felt a flood of guilt for having left Huaike's parents again. They had truly wished for a son and they had taken care of him after fishing him out of the river in the first place. He would go back to them when this was all over. He would be their son. He just hoped that he could bring Jennifer with him as his wife. He hoped, but he didn't put much stock in it. She would want to return to her world. Return with the Mikos. She would never give up her life at home, her life with Mark, for him. She would never sacrifice that much... Even for love. His brother spoke then, drawing him out of his thoughts.

"I really am sorry about breaking your bond with her. I had to. She was ill and she was starting fights with Tomo and... I just didn't know what else to do." Amiboshi turned to his younger brother in time to see him untying the piece of cloth on his arm. He watched as it fell and then split into innumerable pieces before it reached the ground. Since there had never been an emotional bond, there was no accompanying pain. He saw Suboshi sigh. "Well, it's begun. We just have to wait until Ta- Jennifer wakes up from this nightmare." He stood up and left then, leaving Amiboshi alone.

Amiboshi brought his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. It had been so hard, seeing Jennifer like that. She wasn't the same person anymore. All that she was now was some girl that looked like Jennifer. She hadn't even sounded like her. He felt a tear course down his cheek. He missed her so much. He had missed her so much, but now that she was here and not herself... It was so much worse he couldn't begin to articulate his feelings. She hadn't even remembered him. It was the worst rejection he could ever imagine.

Miaka's rejection was nothing compared to this. He had known then that she had loved Tamahome, it had always been a false hope; one he had never expected to be fulfilled, but with Jennifer... He had known that she loved him, whether she had actually said it or not, he was sure. But as he sat there, all alone, his surety faded.

If she had loved him so much as he had convinced himself that she had, then how had she not even remembered him? Even when Tamahome had been under the kodoku he had at least remembered Miaka. He hadn't looked at her like a complete stranger. He felt a few more tears fall and closed his eyes, trying to will the pain away. Having his eyes closed made him remember his dream... From the night before, where Mark had traveled around his home city. Mark... The other brother... The one that Jennifer had met first. The one from her world. The one that she would return too... He squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to fight the thoughts and feelings. He didn't even know that he was tired until he started drifting off.


< br> Mark sighed. At least Jennifer was safe, even if she was a little crazy. He sat cross legged on his bed in the darkness. He didn't bother turning on the light. There was no point in it. He'd fall asleep soon enough, it didn't really matter what he did. He sighed. The police had followed him when he had gone skating the day before. He had felt someone watching him and sure enough there was a little black and white car following him. He had thought about trying to lose it, but had thrown the thought out. It was bad enough that he was out skating at all, so he just let the policeman follow him as he went.

He sighed again. He was really glad that Jenn was safe. He had been so worried, even while skating, that he hadn't been able to keep his mind on anything else. He reached over to his bed side table where the stereo remote was. He picked it up and felt for the buttons. He hit play and listened without hearing, as the music filled the room. It was soft, so that his parents could sleep without interruption. He had started listening to music more now that Jenn was gone. He had done so a lot before he had moved there. He could lose himself in the sound and never have to think of anything. A state of empty dreaming he had come to call it. Since he never dreamt peacefully at night, it had been the best he had at the time. Now it was a refuge. A safe haven from nightmares and memories of Jennifer...

He closed his eyes and felt his thoughts slipping into the welcome oblivion. In the black silence of his mind he could see the thoughts and feelings of the past few days fading away from his conscious mind. It was always better this way. Nothing could hurt him in the blackness. His heart couldn't be broken in the night...


< br> Amiboshi opened his eyes, but didn't believe the sight before him. He was surrounded, not by a nightly desert cliff, but by solid black walls. He started and flicked his head around, trying to discern what had happened to him. He recognized nothing and was wary of everything. He walked slowly towards the closest wall, trying to find a doorway. As he came closer, he saw that the wall was covered with patterned rugs. If that wasn't odd enough, when he came even closer he saw that the rugs were like paintings made of cloth. He narrowed his eyes and reached out to one. Just before his hand touched it, a voice spread around him, echoing through the large room.

"Do you wish to leave this place, Koutoku? You may leave at any time, for I cannot hold you here, all you must do is ask." Amiboshi turned to the voice. It was then that he first saw the dais at the fore of the room. He stepped forward slowly; again very wary of anyone in this place, especially one that knew his given name. When he stood before the dais he examined the man upon it. He was beautiful, that was a given. He also gave out great power and strength with the languid way that he sat upon his throne. He resembled, to Amiboshi, one of the great cats. He took another step, boldly forward.

"Who are you, that you know my name, yet do not control my stay within this place that is obviously well within your power?" He instinctively spoke more formally than he normally would, but the man's mere presence demanded it. He was glad of his intuition when he saw the man smile slightly. Amiboshi saw him lean back a little, to get a better look at the younger man addressing him, he believed.

"I am Kælar. The god of your beloved." The self named god raised a hand, "Do not take the words as you will; "beloved" refers to your feelings for her, not hers for you. It is against my own words to speak the secret hearts of others without their consent. Before you ask, I have brought you here because there are some things that I must know before proceeding in my course of action. As a god, I cannot afford mistakes and I wish for this to go as seamlessly as possible." Amiboshi wasn't sure exactly what Kælar was talking about, but he hadn't understood half of what he had said either. He nodded for the god to continue and shifted his weight slightly.

"You do love the girl Jennifer, her who stands behind you?" The god tilted his head as he asked the question, but Amiboshi almost missed it because he spun around so fast. There before him, kneeling on the cold stone floor, was Jennifer, but she was still wearing the clothes of Kotou, not her own things. He felt his tears returning to him. He turned his head away and squeezed his eye lids tightly shut. He slowly moved to face the god once more, but only when all visible signs of his grief were gone.

"I do love the girl Jennifer, but she who stands behind me is the girl Tarakai, whose soul now rests within my beloved's body." Kælar nodded again and Amiboshi saw his grin widen. He then stood up from his throne, causing Amiboshi to back up by reflex.

"Then I will do all within my power to bring the girl Jennifer back to you, so that she may tell you her mind behind her heart." Kælar put a hand on his shoulder and guided him so that he was standing in front of Tarakai. "It is a sad fate that she bares. There are many hard decisions that she must make with no information, or counsel. Knowing where you stand shall help her greatly once she returns to herself. I have your permission to tell her such when she finally wakes?" Amiboshi snapped out of his trance when he heard the question addressed to him. He had been once again enraptured in Tarakai's beauty.

"Yes, please. Anything that will help her." He looked up at Kælar with pleading, tear-filled eyes. Even more than her love, he wished for Jennifer to be herself. She was like no one within either of the two worlds and the loss on the people of both of those worlds was tremendous. No matter where she finally decided to live her life would impact hundreds. She had already done so much within her short time in this world. He couldn't even begin to count the ways. He had a feeling that much more was going on in this war than anyone knew yet. Anyone except for her and she had been working as hard as she could to minimize the damage.

The god nodded, seemingly satisfied. "That will do, you may return to your own place now. I will wake your body, so that you may return to your place within the city before it becomes too late. Do not return to the encampment of Seiryu. Even if she does wake this night, it will not be safe for you there." Amiboshi nodded and closed his eyes. In a very short time he felt the oddest sensation of fading away.
< br> As the light returned, she blinked and looked around. Her head didn't hurt anymore. She rubbed it in any case, to guard against the pain coming back. She was in some sort of Hall. It looked vaguely familiar, but the memories that held images of it were foggy and she couldn't see them. She blinked slowly a few times and looked around carefully, taking everything in. The walls were all black and white swirl marble, though there was much more black than white to the stone. Covering that, were rows and rows of brightly colored tapestries. She gasped in awe at the supreme detail that could be made with the miniscule thread. All of the scenes portrayed were wildly different; the only thing that was the same between them was the black backgrounds and white silk borders.

She ran her hand along one, as she approached the end of the hall, where a short dais sat and with a throne upon it. Her eyes widened and she gasped when she saw who sat on the throne. It was the most beautiful man that she had ever seen. He had wide, aquiline features and the fairest, most perfect skin that she had ever seen. His hair was blacker than the desert nights. He sat casually on the throne, as if he knew that he was so completely in power over everything in his realm that he didn't even need to sit "correctly". She could only agree with the sentiment; the man leaked power, it was so much a part of him that she believed that there was nothing he could do that would not look regal. "Do you like what you see, Tarakai?" He said without even looking at her. She gasped, flustered.

"Uh... Um... Yes..? How do you know who I am?" She had a hard time pushing her words out. It wasn't everyday that someone who looked like that spoke to her. And knew her name... The man on the throne laughed and turned to face her. When she could see all of his beautiful face he winked at her.

"I know everyone that comes within my Hall. It comes with the territory, Miss Tarakai." He winked at her again and then leaned back, so that he was lounging even more, "What brings you here, little one?" Tarakai was thrown off balance with his comment. She hadn't come there by her own will...

"I.. I don't know. I didn't bring myself here..." She stuttered as she spoke and she looked at the ground, unwilling to know what the man might be thinking of her.

"You must have, chica. For I cannot call people to me, who don't believe in me. Unless, of course, you do follow my teachings?" Tarakai saw a crafty glint in the man's eyes, but she couldn't take note of it because she was so confused.

"But... But... I don't even know who you are...? Or where I am...? I'm so confused." She clasped her head, whose pain had come back with a vengeance and collapsed as her knees buckled beneath her. Tears began to run freely from her eyes. She looked up at the man, "Please....." Her chest contracted, "Why don't you help me, Kælar!?!"

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"Yo! How was that?!
Chica= Little one in spanish!
Thanks to Aiko6 for beta-ing and to I lov Redheads w/Fangs, Sarah, Noodle8, Lirael1 and Aiko6 again for reviewing. I'm glad that you all liked it. I wrote both of the Jennifer parts first, but decided that I wanted to end with that last line. That's cliffy #2 for all of you that are keeping count."
-Tk.DuVeraun