Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Stalking the Wolf ❯ Prologue: Wishes Awry ( Chapter 1 )

Stalking the Wolf

 

By: Yahnkehy

 

Overall Warnings: Language, sap, adult situations, alternate pairing, multiple OC's (without pairing one with a canon character), oddly done canon characters, and lemons.

 

Overall Rating: M

 

Chapter Warning: Language, sap, mentions of Het, and strange a Taiitsukun.

 

Chapter Rating: 17 or high T

 

Prologue: Wishes Awry

 

/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\/o\

 

 

They had done it.

 

Her world was put to rights, Konan was safe forever more and now she had only one wish left.

 

She cried in happiness as she leapt for Tamahome, snuggling into his warm embrace. Her final wish was on her tongue when golden eyes met hers, his expression one of acceptance and forced cheer. She smiled at him and hugged Tamahome closer.

 

Miaka watched him from the corner of her eye; his expression now was almost blank save for the longing in his eyes. It was that look directed at her and Tamahome that cemented her suspicions. He wanted love. Ached for it with every fiber of his being. Her mind was made up. He, out of all of her seishi, needed this wish far more than she did.

 

“Kaijin!” she cried as her seishi argued over how she should word her wish to remain with Tamahome. “Let Tasuki never rest until love is within his grasp!”

 

Everything stopped. The seishi seemed frozen, partially turned and halted mid argument. All but one; Tasuki. He stood off to the side, a stricken look on his face, frozen in light of the wish she was making.

 

The wind died down as if halted in its tracks, the light dimmed then grew over bright and the ground rumbled gently. A voice as sweet and loving as any she had ever heard drifted over her, igniting the symbol that still resided on her forehead. “Miko, my dearest miko, you have condemned your seishi to a long life filled with hardship and loneliness. His path is obscure but there is hope. One day he shall find love in the most unexpected place. If this is your wish, my miko, please proclaim it once more.”

 

Miaka stood rooted to the spot. Had she heard correctly? Tasuki would be condemned? No! She only wanted his happiness… but Suzaku had said that love would find him. Should she retract her wish? Condemn Tasuki to walk alone until he reached his destiny?

 

She closed her eyes and bowed her head.

 

“Let him never rest until love is within his grasp, Suzaku. I only want his happiness in the end. He wants to love and be loved in return; he deserves the chance to find his destiny! Please, Suzaku, grant my final wish!”

 

Suzaku stepped out of the brilliant crimson glow and embraced his miko, holding her tenderly to his chest. “It is done.”

 

Warmth surrounded her one last time as she felt the remission of Suzaku's power from her body, a sort of trickling of heat that drained out through her scalp to disperse into the clouds gathering over her head.

 

Yells and cries of dismay filled her ears, her head snapped up as hands clenched on her shoulders. She was met with shining golden eyes. “No. Miaka, what did you do? I don't want love, damnit! I just want t'be left alone! Damn you!” He shoved away from her, angered and hurt that she had seen the pain in his heart and had decided to proclaim before his god that he needed to live until he could find love. How pathetic of a man was he to have to have his miko waste her one chance to be with her beloved for something as trivial as making sure he found love?

 

Flames surrounded his form and he gasped, staggering back in surprise as a face flashed in the flames. A face he knew almost as well as he did his own… a face that was looking at him through the whirlwind of fire with concern and pity shining in shimmering eyes.

 

“No!” He cried as the flames died. “I don't want this! Take it back!”

 

Shocked looks came from his fellow seishi as they all faded back into the world they had come from and he closed his eyes against their pity. He didn't want it! He could live without love! Love made people stupid and careless! He was a bandit! What would he do with love?

 

A hand came down on his shoulder, gently offering comfort. “Ano, Tasuki-kun, she means well na no da. Don't be upset with her. She just wants you to be happy, no da.”

 

“Tasuki…”

 

He spun to face the only brothers he had and jerked roughly away. “NO! Fuck that! She fucking made sure that I'd never be able t'DIE until I find some stupid fuck what wants t'love me! Don't ya get it, Tama, Chichiri? SHE HATES ME ENOUGH TO MAKE SURE I'M ALWAYS ALONE!” He turned on his heel and ran off, dodging through the crowds of Eiyou palace courtyard and out the gates.

 

Chichiri watched him go, sure that he would see his friend once he calmed down enough to think rationally. `He'll be all right, no da. He just needs to accept this and he'll be fine… I hope.'

 

Tamahome sighed and made his way out of the courtyard towards is old room, intent on gathering his things and following the hot headed seishi.

 

Little did he know that his fellow seishi would not be found…

 

~o~o~o~o~

 

He stared into the reflective glass as he appraised his appearance with a critical eye; coat and tails pressed to perfection, hair coifed in the latest fashion, cravat tied in an intricate knot, walking stick and top hat held out to him as well as his overcoat as his valet tucked a handkerchief into his breast pocket.

 

“Thanks Tibbs, I owe ya one.” Dressing the part hadn't changed his speech patterns all that much but he had learned a new language to fit his new location and the station he had paid a hefty price to attain.

 

The valet, Tibbs, smiled gently at the easy and friendly way his new master spoke to him, his old heart swelling with pride as he gazed on the man who had given him a job despite his highly advanced years. “Think nothing of it, my lord, `tis my job you know.”

 

A perfect red eyebrow arched sarcastically at the ancient man at his side. “Tibbs, my man, ya ought t'know better'n that. I ain't no one's master, lord, sir, or nothin'. I asked ya t'call me Genrou an', damnit, I meant it. No use callin' me by a title I hadda buy.”

 

Tibbs eyed Genrou critically; gone was the long-haired rapscallion who had first hired him, the man who had laughed and drank strange foreign wine at the kitchen's table with his staff and in his place was The McTanish, fifth earl of a dead line. He had traveled the world long enough that no discernible accent could place him from any single location and spoke more than his own fair share of languages, some of which had died out so long ago that they were only remembered by scholars.

 

“Of course, Genrou, as you wish my lord.” Tibbs winked at the spunky red head and gave him a gentle shove towards the door. “If you arrive at Lord Bronsville's ball too late it will be unfashionable, best to hurry along my lord.”

 

Genrou frowned and put his open, gloved hand out towards Tibbs, “Give it to me, Tibbs. Ya know I ain't leavin' without it so ya might as well.”

 

Tibbs sighed and retrieved the one thing his master always carried with him from a broom closet beside the large double door entry way; a fan made out of a strange metal that would shimmer in the light, almost as if it were made of some rare gem.

 

Genrou grinned and tucked the fan under his coat. Giving Tibbs a farewell pat on the shoulder, Genrou opened the front door to his London apartments and strode down the short walkway to his waiting carriage. “I'll be back a'fore ya know it.” Genrou called as he bounded up into the carriage and slammed the small door. “I don't plan t'waste too much time listenin' t'old Bronsville grumble `bout his kooky wife longer'n I hafta. Ja ne!”

 

Tibbs sighed and shook his head as the carriage trundled away, the spirited matching blacks leading the emblazoned coach around the circle drive and out onto the busy London streets.

 

Genrou settled back against the plush seats of the coach, looking out the small window at the darkened streets of London and the townhouse windows that glowed cheerfully. A soft `pouf' caught his attention; he was not surprised to see his only companion through the last century at his side.

 

The other man sat dressed in clothes similar to the ones Genrou wore; though his hair was longer than was fashionable for this modern era.

 

“So, ya come t'wish me happy birthday Taiitsukun?” Genrou asked, an easy smile on his face.

 

“Tasuki, you know why I'm here. Yes, it is your birthday but it is also the day I come to prod you to find your soul mate.” Taiitsukun had relinquished his older and much more frightening form for his natural one; a fair skinned man with long dark hair and blindingly beautiful features.

 

Genrou frowned. “I'm not Tasuki no more, ya old hag! I'm Genrou an' I keep tellin' ya, but ya don't listen; I. AIN'T. LOOKIN'. FOR. NOBODY! Understand?! I don't need love damnit! I'm fine like I am.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked sulkily out the window.

 

The Creator sighed, “Fine, Flame Boy, but heed me; you will continue to walk through the ages alone and unchanging until you fulfill your end of the bargain. Miaka wished for you to NEVER rest until you find love; I suggest you get to it.”

 

Genrou turned his head to rant at the former old woman once more but found himself alone in the carriage. “He always gets the last word in! Damnit!”

 

The carriage swayed to a stop and a moment later the door swung open and the small set of stairs were let down so that he could alight.

 

Tasuki reigned in his anger and schooled his features into a pleasant smile, tucking `Tasuki' back into the niche he had created to hide his true self. Becoming Genrou once more, he gathered up his cane and top hat before he leapt from the carriage.

 

Bronsville's townhouse was resplendent with flowers of all kinds, obviously the old marquise had bought out all of the hothouses in London in order to concede to the whims of his strange wife.

 

Banners and mockery's of Chinese lanterns swayed in the evening breeze as Genrou made his way up the wide front steps and into the short queue of the reception line.

 

Bronsville, himself stood at the doors to greet his guests. Graying hair slicked back- as was customary for someone of his years- and curled against the older man's collar, a yellow rose tucked into the handkerchief pocket of a wine colored, brocade jacket fitted over a starched, white shirt and tan breeches tucked into gleaming knee high boots. “Genrou, my boy! So good of you to make it! I'd like to introduce you to my niece and nephew; Lady Alana and Lord Ryan of Rosewood estates.”

 

Bronsville turned to the stunning young couple at his side, drawing Genrou's attention.

 

His heart stopped in his chest. It couldn't be!

 

There, dressed in the latest fashions of the day, were Nuriko and Hotohori. Nuriko-Lord Ryan's frock coat cut away to reveal a dark blue waistcoat, black breeches and a purple flower tucked into the watch pocket, his light brown hair fell in a long ponytail over his shoulder. The woman- at the Nuriko look-a-like's side- smiled sweetly, her dress scooped low to show off her décolletage to best advantage, while yards of cream colored satin and lace hugged the curves of her torso before fanning out into a delicate bell dotted with living rosebuds. Her glossy dark brown hair was pilled high on her head in an elegant knot that allowed tendrils of ringlets to frame her beautiful face.

 

Hotohori-Lady Alana stepped forward and placed her lace gloved hand in his, pulling it up to chest level and gazing at him with an impish smile. “How do you do, Genrou dear. My uncle has told my brother and I so much about you!”

 

 

 

TBC…

 

 

 

All right, I know I still have a few fics on the table as of yet but this idea jumped into my head and has refused to let me alone until I wrote at least the first chapter and gotten the plot line written out.

 

Chapter 9 of “AR” is now posted, so I have been getting things with my other works done, too. Chapter 9 of “HM” is trying to get written and should be off to beta soon.

 

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. I have much angst and conflict in store for my dearest bishounen! Tune in next time! Love you all, dears!

 

Love!

 

V.M. Yahnkehy-chan