Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Love Lies Bleeding ❯ Floodplain ( Chapter 8 )

Angst and Spoilers Ahoy: This chapter has massive spoilers for Chichiri's Gaiden novel. If you haven't read it or its summaries, you're going to basically get a HA-YUGE chunk of it ruined. Proceed at your own risk.

Love Lies Bleeding

Memories are just where you laid them,

Dragging waters 'til the depths give up their dead.

What did you expect to find?

Was it something you left behind?

Don't you remember everything I said when I said:

Don't fall away, and leave me to myself.

Don't fall away, and leave love bleeding in my hands,

In my hands again;

Leave love bleeding in my hands.

In my hands,

Love lies bleeding.

'Hemorrhage (Love Lies Bleeding)', Fuel

"So. You're leaving."

The pair stood before each other, amber eyes staring into a single burgundy orb in a maimed face, as the wolf tried to intimidate the fox into staying.

Tasuki bristled visibly as the stare-down continued.

"You really think you're gonna walk all the fuckin' way to Kutou?"

Chichiri was calm. "Yes, no da."

"You're not!" Tasuki protested.

"I am," the monk finally replied, adjusting the tilt of his straw kasa upon his head. "I really cannot dally any longer, no da. I am almost a month late for my visit, no da. Kouran and Shuusei-san are no doubt having kittens by now, no da. I really cannot keep them worrying about me forever, no da."

Despite the matter-of-fact way Chichiri made his statement, Tasuki seemed to want to punch holes in it. But the monk stood firm in the face of the bandit's ire.

"Fine!" Tasuki finally gave in with an explosive breath. "Fine! Go on, then."

The bandit moved around the monk as he stood there; Chichiri was waiting for him to move, and the path to doorway cleared. Tasuki simply waved one hand irritably as he went around the other man, as if urging the monk to his journey despite his vehement protests.

"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out, Chichiri!" was Tasuki's final farewell.

Chichiri sighed. Nothing ever went as planned anymore.

Without a backward glance, the monk headed out the door. He knew Kouji was watching this scene somewhere in the shadows, but was certain that Tasuki would eventually get over his anger. He'd just have to realize that Chichiri had duties to other people, even if he did not approve of how Chichiri saw them through.

He refused to think too much about it, however, as sunshine and cool spring air greeted him. His lungs swelled as he took a deep breath, filling them with the clean, outdoor air. It was good to be out of the fortress, he thought, as he headed down the winding path.

He would walk tonight, he decided as he went around the bend. Walk until evening came, then camp out under the stars. In the morning, if he felt up to it, he would consider cutting his travel time with a spell to cross the remaining distance. It was, after all, quite a journey he was undertaking. Mt Leikauku rested between Konan and Sairou. The Shouryuu village, on the other hand, was on the otherside of the mountains that divided Konan and Kutou.

He mused further on his travels, as he walked, keeping other thoughts at bay: he did not want to think Tasuki's ire, Hikou's erratic behavior. He didn't want to think about Hikou at all, in fact.

A shudder ran down his back as the demon's cool touch was remembered, unbidden by his heart. The voice that accompanied the thought of the demon was far more real, however, than the ghostly hand he felt over his skin.

"You didn't wait for me."

Chichiri whirled, his cloak fluttering with the clumsy turn, to find the demon he was just trying not to think about standing on the path not far behind him.

Questions blurred through his mind. When had Hikou arrived? Why had he not sensed it? He swallowed them all, and instead replied to the demon's 'greeting'.

"It has been two days. I couldn't wait any longer." A wry smile touched the monks lips. "And I know you can find me, no matter where I go. You found me easily enough the first time, didn't you?"

A smirk to mirror Chichiri's found its way to Hikou's lips, though it was somehow harsher than the monk's expression.

"It is good you understand that," Hikou said as he walked towards the monk. "But you asked what I wanted and you know it was to be with you. So...are we to travel, then?"

Chichiri only gave a moment's pause before nodding quietly. "Hai. We shall be heading to Kutou. I'm sure meeting Shuusei may be something of a shock to you, though. He could be your twin."

The demon shrugged noncommittally. He seemed to care not about the man that Chichiri described, and simply his place at the monk's side.

Chichiri looked Hikou over a moment, seeking something in his face, his eyes. Some clue of what he was feeling, how he felt about traveling with his one-time lover. There was nothing.

"Do you mind us walking cross-country?" Chichiri asked.

"No," Hikou answered succinctly.

A moment of silence lingered between them. Did he really want to walk all that way, alone, with the demon? He was distinctly uncomfortable with dealing with the demon's lusts, alone in the woods. Oh, Hikou had said he would respect his wishes, yes, but that didn't alleviate his discomfort all the same. The more he thought about it, the less he liked it, and the less comfortable he was walking before the demon.

"Would you rather us go the quick way?" Chichiri abruptly suggested.

"Teleport, you mean?" Hikou asked.

Chichiri nodded.

The demon seemed to muse on this as they continued to walk, and then turned his glowing gaze to Chichiri's form. He inspected it, as if seeing how healthy the monk was.

"Can you handle it? Are you well enough now?" Hikou asked with deliberate caution. "If not, I don't tire much. I can walk."

Chichiri's heart sank. He tried not to think about what Hikou's lack of natural fatigue would mean in other realms as well, and instead simply decided to assure the demon he could cast his spell with no difficulty.

"It'll be easy now. I'm fully rested, and I've got plenty of energy." Chichiri tried to give his most reassuring smile.

Hikou seemed unconvinced, but then rolled his shoulders in a weak shrug and said, "It's your choice."

"We'll teleport then," Chichiri said, as he stopped, turning to face the demon.

In his mind's eye, Chichiri could see Hikou reaching for his hand, in those cold limestone caves where the water had been the only witness to their misguided, unhappy passions. They were leaving the cave, leaving that pit of sin, to go to the mountain of Leikauku.

He mimicked it on a whim, extending a single hand for the demon to take.

The glance to the extended and palm and the twist to his features said: I did this once. But Hikou did not seem angry. Instead, amused irony graced his sharp features.

His hand slid over Chichiri's, till his fingers curled about the monk's palm.

Hikou smirked. Chichiri smiled.

Crimson sprang up around them, lapping over Chichiri's body before spreading out in a bubble of liquid flame. It flowed like water over them, warmed like a bonfire, and consumed both of them within it's conflagration of bloody, violent red despite its relatively gentle warmth.

There were words whispered, lost to either's ears, but both saw the other's mouth move. And then--they were gone. Displaced. Unlike Hikou's teleportation, Chichiri's was far gentler and easy on the body and soul. One moment the rough mountain road was beneath their feet, and the next they were up to their ankles in mud.

Mud?

Chichiri wobbled slightly as he felt the ground that was supposed to be solid shift and squelch nosily beneath him. He turned from Hikou with a jerky motion, and then scanned the land he had brought them to.

A single tree stood solitary by the river; he knew it well. Here he had deflected the flooding Shouryuu River, which had once destroyed his own village, and saved a pair of lovers. It was the same pair of lovers who married with his blessing not a month later, and had named their firstborn son for him.

Chichiri's gaze tracked down the swelling river, down its banks, toward the village that lay on its shores. The flood had overwhelmed the village. He could spy toppled homes, tents, people milling about smeared with mud and filth.

And then he was screaming.

"Ou Kenmin! Ryuu Shuusei!" The names ripped free from his throat as he sped away, leaving Hikou in stunned silence behind him.

"Kouran!" That name left most painfully of all.

He didn't hear Hikou calling his name behind him. He did not feel the splatter of rain against his skin, dampening his bangs against his brow, slicking his pony tail against his shoulders. He couldn't even hear his own voice, over the thunder of blood in his ears.

He slipped and fell, only to propel himself into a run once he got to his feet. If Hikou followed, he knew not or cared not. He had to get into the village. He had to find his friends.

The townspeople noticed him, as noisy as he was. He stopped only for a moment once within the village proper, and grabbed the first villager to cross his path and demand answers.

"Kouran? Shuusei?"

No one knew. Heads shook.

"Headman Ou Kenmin?"

All pointed toward the once-proud home of the village leader and the father of Ou Kouran. He'd once shown Chichiri great kindness; his daughter had pulled him from the river after he'd tried to join Hikou and Kouran in death and Ou Kenmin had taken him in without question or hope of reward. But neither of his rescuers would give up hope on him: Kenmin taught him the value of his destiny, and Kouran had taught him the value of his own life. Without them and the lessons they taught him he would never have survived his grief.

He had to find them now. He could not rest until he knew they still lived.

Chichiri ran for the house. He found it with a broken door half off its hinges, reeking of illness and death. Only now did he slow; trepidation and apprehension gripping his heart.

Shaking hands pushed the door open and he crept inside, quiet like a thief and feeling just as guilty.

The sitting room had been gutted, fine furniture ruined and book cases overturned. Rare volumes were now waterlogged and spoiled, delicate paper drying slowly, swelling the books into bloated mockeries of their former beauty.

Chichiri turned into the hall, heading further into the house. The scent of rotting wood, pregnant with disease, assaulted his senses. But he pressed on.

He found Kouran's room was empty, and had not seen an occupant in some time. Things had been knocked over, and the bedding was sodden with water and still damp. He moved deeper within the house.

He hesitated before the closed door to Kenmin's quarters. His hand lifted, no matter that it trembled, and pressed against the wet wood. He needed only to push it open to see if Ou Kenmin was inside, still alive!

But still he paused. His hands trembled, even half lifed, like flightless birds before the maw of the cat that would devour them. He could not move forward or back; he was too caught up in the fear that the room could be empty, that Kenmin could be dead, that this could be all for naught, that he did not come in time--

A hand, warm and living, touched his shoulder and jolted him from the fears that held him. He jumped in shock at it, and turned his head to find Hikou looming behind him.

Chichiri simply stared at the demon for a moment, before realizing that Hikou had cast the spell that enabled him pass as human, just to enter the village after his one-time lover.

"Go on," Hikou said softly. The demon tried to keep his features impassive, but it was obvious even he was troubled by this twist in their path. "I'll be right behind you," he promised.

Hikou laid his hand over the monk's, catching Chichiri's fingers between Hikou's palm and the wood of the door.

He knew he had to open it.

Together, they pushed the door open; Hikou's hand fell away from Chichiri's as the hinged creaked out their protest. He stepped back into the hall, allowing Chichiri his privacy with the man who had once saved his life, hoping that he would not damn his soul.

Kenmin lay in his ruined, damp bed. A brazier was lit nearby to keep the chill from pervading the room. His jowls were pale, his flesh clammy even as Chichiri hurried over to clasp his hand and press his knuckles to the man's face to make sure he lived still.

The touches roused the village headman, his eyelids slowly lifting to reveal bloodshot eyes.

"Houjun-sama?" Kenmin rasped softly.

"Hai, Kenmin-sama."

The older man's face broke out into a weak smile, and his hand lifted, only to be caught within Chichiri's.

"I am so glad you have made it to us," Kenmin said, his reedy voice colored with relief. "We had feared the worst, Houjun-sama. Are you alright? Why were you delayed?"

"I'm sorry," Chichiri answered, unable and unwilling to explain his entanglement with Hikou and the subsequent month as an invalid. "I tried to make it here on time, Kenmin-sama."

"It's alright," Kenmin reassured the troubled seishi. "You would simply have been caught in the flood with the rest of us. Its better you have come now."

Chichiri looked down at the man, expression troubled and confused. "Why?"

"Because now you can bring my children back to me," Kenmin said, his voice cracking with the strain. "Kouran. My only child, Houjun-sama. You have to find her and her husband. Her child still lives, and he will need his family. They could be among the camps of the survivors."

Claw-like, Kenmin's bony hand tightened around Chichiri's, and the monk could only endure the clammy grip that held him still and tainted him with the chill of death. Desperation had taken Kenmin and drove him to begging, and Chichiri was obviously his only hope.

"Please, Houjun-sama," Kenmin pleased. "Find my daughter. Find Kouran."

Chichiri nodded, and answered with all the solemnity that the request warranted, "I will do as you ask, Kenmin-sama."

Only then did Kenmin begin to relax. Chichiri's hands went to the thin, bony fingers that held his and he began to draw away from their cruel, cold grip.

"Please," he said as he tried to take his hand from the older man, "rest now. I promise you I won't rest till I find Kouran."

"Search the mountains. If they escaped into the hills surrounding the peaks, they are likely there, alive and well..." Kenmin's voice was thin with his hope, the need for his daughter's safety achingly apparent.

Chichiri understood all to well what it could be like to out live one's family. To out live a daughter would be that much worse.

Kenmin's needy eyes bore into his back as he left the man on his deathbed. A shiver ran down his spine, even before the door was closed.

Hikou had waited for him in the hall. His expression was somber as he Chichiri closed the door behind him. Once the monk looked up at him, Hikou spoke.

"To the hills, then?"

"Yes," Chichiri confirmed. "To the hills."

The demon only nodded, and turned to lead the way out. Guilt stung the seishi as he left the house, thankful to be free of the smell of disease and rot.

"It'll be hard," Hikou said as he walked through the village. "Do you really think you're up to trekking through the hills and into the mountains?"

Chichiri could hear that he meant well; his voice was colored with worry and concern, things that normally did not find their way into the demon's demeanor. But his answer would remain the same, no matter how much the demon might worry for him.

"I have to," he finally answered. "I have to find Kouran, Hikou. I owe her that much. Even if she's dead, I have to find her. Do you understand? She dragged me from this very river, half-dead and hopeless... and I owe her far more than my life. I have to find her, even if it's just to put her to rest."

"Baka," Hikou said softly, but there was no venom to his words. Only acceptance.

"I know it's a fool's errand. But we both have acknowledged that I am a fool, yes?" Chichiri's smile was weak and hardly a reassurance.

"Yes, we do," Hikou replied with weary resignation.

Words ceased between them as they left the village behind them, their grim mission laid out before them: Find a living daughter and bring her home, or find her corpse to widen the fissure that had all but broken Ou Kenmin's home.

Neither held hope, no matter that they both pressed onward.