DISCLAIMER: I just managed to get back online and I just spent nearly $300 on textbooks. You think I own FY? Hell no.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! ~ducks rush of oncoming Sharp'n Pointy Objects being weilded by readers~ I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY! I honestly didn't mean for it to take this long, I honestly honestly didn't! I've been trying to write, but it became so incredibly hard this past year - I have no idea what happened, and I didn't want it to, I would've avoided it if I could! I didn't want to leave you hanging (well, not more than I usually do), and I dearly wish it could have been avoided.
I've been very busy, yes, but that's no excuse. Well, it is sorta, but I don't wanna use it as one. The plain truth of the matter is that my creativity got eaten away, and it took a very, very long time - and meetings with certain people! ^_^ - to bring it back. It was writer's block in an extreme form, and while I wanted to write it getting the words out was excruciatingly hard. But, in the end - and with no small amount of help from Kris (thank you so so so much!) - it happened. At-freakin'-last. So, don't kill me - kill my writer's block! You'd be doing everybody a favor then!
Since it's been so long I was debating not doing review replies since I was doubtful many people have even a vague clue of what they wrote months ago, but I figure it's the least I can do to make up for the delay. So, with another apology (gomen nasai!), here's more of my ramblings in response to your ramblings.
Skittles! We have similar computer problems - they had to shut down my school's network for days to fix it 'cause it got infected with worms! I actually survived pretty well and developed a social life, but at the same time it was annoying to not be able to check e-mail.
Quickening, so they need help and Chomei needs to get on their case, huh? ^_~ I'll keep that in mind... and let them know you said that if they ask! And I actually feel sorry for Tomo, too - 'course, I feel sorry for just about all of 'em, but still... he had such a rotten childhood! Not saying that excuses his actions, but it makes them more understandable.
TA Maxwell, wow... it took you that long? O.o I didn't know my stuff was so... involved. Well, I guess I did, but still... ~whistles~ Guess it doesn't really sink in, being the writer and all. But I'm glad you like it!
Kris... not even gonna try. Fill in the blank (__________________________) with just about everything.
Boko - Tomo, shy? O.o Okay, if ya think so. And you have an inkling? Oooh, you may have figured it out! But yes, theories shall have to wait to be proven, but... I don't think it'll be long now that certain things have started. You'll see what I mean.
Chibigreen, glad you enjoyed that scene! I did too, immensely ^_________^ Just too much fun. And it is funny (ironic) how much more sympathetic Tomo comes across in fanfictions - probably because you can show more than one side to everything. It's not all black-and-white, like the second season of FY seemed to be.
Flying heart, why is it not fair that Chomei kissed Reijie? Would you like to kiss him yourself? Go right ahead if you want, just be preapred for him to freeze! ^_________^ And possibly go hide behind Kris, but that's another story.
Draconsis - yup, revenge list! Add to it if you want, I wanna post a list like that on my site some day. Just keep accepting suggestions until we reach 1,001. Just 'cause it'd be fun. And someone thinks Chomei is cute? Awww! ^__^
J. Liha, 'course he's gonna come back. Dun worry!
Elwing Silme, some really don't like it, some... eh, it'll become apparent. And ooh, another person saying they need to get things straightened out... Hmm, I wonder if y'all're trying to tell me something... ^_~
Meirelle Emeraldeyes, you're right, I wasn't when I first started it. And then after that I had college friends who helped me get things straight. But also Japanese college is different from American college - I'm just not sure how. I'll find out some day though! And don't go crazy! I hope all those things got finished, and that you didn't have problem after that... Y'know, I need to go do my own reading...
Evil Hunter, you're really impressing me these past few chapters. I think you spend more time speculating about this story than I do - and I didn't think that was possible! I love that you do it though, I love seeing what other people think. Keep going!
Space Cat, well, this isn't exactly soon... but I already ranted about that above. And actually, I've heard quite a few theories of Miboshi-as-a-woman-originally, but none quite like yours... someone that wanted to hold on to the beauty of youth for all eternity is quite intriguing to think about! Especially since "he" could summon all those hideous beasts... Symbolism and irony and metaphors can run rampant. Aie, my Lit-trained brain is kicking in majorly...
Mercury Angel, you're back! ~hugs~ Sorry it took so long, and I don't really answer your questions, but I'm glad to see you again!
Eikou - I am going to be very, very blunt. I have seen Eikouden. In fact, I possess two copies - the official American and a badly-translated disc from China which is just funny to watch because of the badness. In Eikouden, there is no specification as to whether Miaka has a boy or a girl, but Hikari is a girl's name, and Hikaru is the male version of it. Also, in volume 18 of the manga and episode 6 of the second OVA, where it shows the happy couple standing with a kid, I personally can't tell whether the kid is a boy or a girl, so I guessed. I did put up a note once Eikouden came out that said "written with no knowledge of OVA 3 (Eikouden)", and I also started writing this story a year before Eikouden came. Also, I really don't like Eikouden. Haven't since I first saw it. So I wasn't about to go back and rewrite twenty or so chapters to fit it, and I wouldn't have even if I liked it. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, but if you ignore my warnings and my author's notes, I am going to "forcefully yet diplomatically" remind you. And yes, I have read Purple Mouse's stories - I've been reading them since they first came out, as we originally beta-read each other's stuff.
Well... ahem. I love you all! Thanks for sticking around! ~hugs to all, heads off to do EES reading~
It took everyone a while to realize that, yes, Tomo was gone. Not just invisible, gone. No one, be they seishi or miko, could sense a trace of him in the apartment, if you discounted Chomei as a trace. In fact, Chomei was more baffled than the others; as weird as it sounded, while Tomo stood before him he could almost feel a link of some sort being forged between the two of them. Maybe it was because he was the reincarnation of Tomo, maybe there was some other reason, but when Tomo disappeared all sense of the link shattered as if it had never been.
Tasuki let out a annoyed roar to break the silence, making more than one person jump. "Damnit all ta fuckin' hell, why'd ya 'ave t' go an' do that, Obake-chan?! Migh' as well just start callin' ya OBAKA-chan if ya keep actin' like that!"
"Shut it, Tasuki," Taka mumbled from the floor – he still had most of his face implanted in the carpet. "How would you react if you saw the thing that-"
"Don' even start it, Tama, jus' don' even start it," Tasuki warned, pointing the tessen at the teacher for emphasis as he pushed himself up to his knees. "Th' question now is 'Who's gonna go af'er 'im an' get 'im back here?' I don' think ye're gonna volunteer."
Silence once again filled the room as the others contemplated Tasuki's very relevant question. Daisuke immediately counted himself out of the running, based on two very important facts. He glanced around, wondering if anyone else had thought of the slight complications involved yet and if it was all right for him to speak up – but then he caught Gesshin's eye and knew he had to say something. The redhead was younger but had a few inches and quite a few pounds on him, and was giving Daisuke a look that plainly said 'speak up now or I swear to God I'll make you say it.' Daisuke allowed himself to puzzle for one second exactly how Gesshin knew he'd think of something before he actually began to talk.
"I think it would have to be a… a seishi." The word still sounded strange to him, almost as strange as everyone looking at him suddenly. "We, um, non-seishi don't know where he's gone and seishi would be more likely to know how to follow… what was it? Ki? and be able to trace him that way. Besides, he's most likely somewhere public right now, and if anyone… real were to be spotted talking to what appears to be thin air, I suspect the police would be called before much headway could be made."
"You're right about following ki, but I don't suspect we'll have any problems finding him," Amiboshi spoke up suddenly from next to the window. His tone, in contrast to earlier, carried a hint of amusement.
"What makes you say that?" Hotohori frowned.
"He's standing right out there next to the street, looking more than slightly lost."
There was a general rush to the two windows in the Daishi living room, and within seconds they were filled with a multitude of faces all peering downwards with various degrees of interest. Sure enough, visible only to their eyes, a very conspicuous orange-clad figure was turning back and forth slowly, almost in shock, staring at everything around him. Just as Chomei was about to ask why Tomo seemed so awestruck, since he'd sort of been in the modern world before, a woman with a large paper shopping bag walked right through him – making the parts of his body she touched go misty and fragment in the light, before reforming like smoke. He turned the same stunned look on the woman, and Chomei winced; being walked through definitely couldn't be comfortable and could most definitely be disconcerting.
A few people down from him, Soi shook her head with a half-groaning sigh. "I guess I better go talk to him."
"No, Soi. I will." Again – surprisingly – the voice was Amiboshi's. "He's not going to believe you easily – I think I might have a better chance of getting through to him." His blue eyes momentarily turned sad and he mumbled something under his breath, before looking up at his twin. "You stay here too – somehow I doubt he's going to take all this nicely coming from…" He didn't have to finish up with "the one who killed him."
"Damnit Aniki I can take care of myself and Tomo can take care of himself." Suboshi was, to put it mildly, slightly ticked off at the implication that he'd chase Tomo off even more. "Let him decide for himself, 'cause there's no way in hell you're going without me."
"Who knew siblings could be so loving?" Hokusai muttered, before pitching his voice louder. "Well someone go and talk to him, before he takes off again and we lose the one chance we seem to have!"
Suboshi turned a definite "duh" look on Hokusai before Amiboshi vanished. Suboshi gave a cry of indignation and disappeared fast on his brother's heels. The spectators at the window were rewarded with seeing them pop out of nowhere on the sidewalk next to Tomo within a second.
Katai and Shirai looked at each other, a bit disturbed. "Are they really us?" Shirai asked, eyes a bit wider than usual.
"I think so, Rai," his brother responded, wearing a matching expression.
Contrary to the violent twin's belief, it seemed that Tomo really wasn't all that prepared to believe him. Suboshi was banished from the persuasion meeting within the first few minutes by a brother who was fairly obviously starting to get ticked off and reappeared in the Daishi apartment with an audible, growling huff. Giving the gathering a glare for good measure (and not noticing more than one person rolling their eyes), he stalked into the kitchen and stayed there. For a moment Shirai started to go after him, then decided he was more curious in the outcome of the talk proceeding on the sidewalk and remained plastered to the window.
To make things a bit easier in the crowding department, most of the seishi combined with their modern counterparts, but even with that extra step there were still more than fifteen bodies straining for a glimpse. It was impossible to hear, of course, but all could see Amiboshi's serious, sincere, and in-control expression as he conversed with the makeup-ed seishi, who appeared equally serious but almost... disheartened. Neither seemed on the verge of blows or running away, but it took longer for Amiboshi to put his diplomatic skills to use than many had estimated. Maybe Tomo had more questions than anyone previously or something of a similar nature; whatever the reason, almost a full ten minutes later the two finally disappeared and reappeared in the living room.
No one said much of anything for the first few moments, as Tomo and Amiboshi exchanged a look that seemed to convey more than one private communication, Amiboshi's both patient and exasperated and Tomo's almost browbeaten – a surprising look for a seishi normally so self-possessed, but no one could deny the existence. Something about him had changed from when he was alive. If they needed more proof that the afterlife could be educational, it was right in front of them.
Chomei hadn't moved from the chair. When everyone else was rushing to the windows, he was slowly collapsing against the back, overwhelmed by the sensations that were speeding through his brain. That sense of a link, of the number of layers this person - ghost, whatever - had, wondering if he himself could be so complex… It was all too much to take in. His sense of time abandoned him as he sat there, his mind shut off and thoughts halted, trying to come to terms with all of this in the only way he knew how: not doing anything at all. The occasional comment intruded on his psyche, but never clearly enough to rouse him – until a small hand laid itself on his shoulder. Blinking, Chomei looked up to find Daisuke on his right, a look on the younger boy's face that seemed to hold nothing but understanding. He was still feeling it too, then: the sheer impossibility of everything that had happened that day and everything that was yet to come. But before any mention of any such understanding could be made, Daisuke nodded to the room before them. Chomei looked, and was more than a bit startled to see Tomo and Amiboshi on the blank expanse of carpet before him, Shirai running into the kitchen looking determined, and every single other person and ghost in the room watching the bizarre little triangle before them with an unwavering intensity. Amiboshi, too, turned his eyes on Tomo and Chomei, joining the rest in their staring. Tomo seemed able to take the high level of inspection without flinching, but Chomei was trying to sink into the seat once again. Of course he'd take it better than I would; he's a performer, his mind slowly babbled as he tried to concentrate on something beside those reams of eyes. I'm just nothing little me.
Someone apparently had other ideas about what Chomei should be doing. Until then Daisuke's hand had remained on his shoulder, a solid link to reality, but now it moved so it was gripping under his elbow, and the smaller boy exerted enough pressure to make Chomei stumble to his feet. One wild glance back at Daisuke – did he really think this was helping? – and Chomei was given a firm push in Tomo's direction. His feet just barely missed the feathered crown that was still sitting a few feet from the chair, and once again the two were face-to-face. No one spoke.
As two pairs of golden eyes assessed each other again (Practically the only similar thing between us, Chomei thought), the modern one could feel a distinct sense of building between them – whether it was that link from before, he didn't know, but something was starting to connect the two, growing thicker and more solid with each passing moment. He briefly wondered whether Tomo was feeling it as well before the seishi opened his mouth.
"I don't expect any of you to believe me." Even though his words were for all, his eyes remained locked on Chomei's. It was as if Tomo thought convincing the modern him was worth more than convincing the other thirty or so of them. "But you are going to listen." The browbeaten look from earlier was gone, and Chomei could just make out Amiboshi nodding in the corner of his eye. "You are going to give me the benefit of the doubt, as I see you've already done for Soi and Suboshi." He paused, waiting for a reaction - and received none. "While I was alive, I did evil things. Sometimes the people deserved it. Sometimes they didn't. But that doesn't matter any more. All that matters now is stopping Ashitare and not letting anyone else die. I'm not here to torture anyone. All I want to do is end it, with him as the loser."
"Why should we believe you?" Soi spat out, as if the words left a foul taste in her mouth. "You certainly haven't given us any reason to."
Tomo's eyes, at last, broke from Chomei's, moving in Amiboshi's direction instead. "I said this would happen," he said simply.
"You did," Amiboshi sighed. He shook his head, distinctly frustrated, as Katai began edging his way through the crowd, determined to lend the seishi some help. "Soi," he began again, "you can't do this now. We need everyone to work together, to listen to each other-"
"Like hell I can't!" Her exclamation made Katai stop in his tracks and silenced Amiboshi's voice. Shirai poked his head out of the kitchen, swore, and ducked back in. The female seishi's eyes were narrowed to dangerous proportions, keeping the rest of the gathering silent as she split her glare between Tomo and Amiboshi. Unseen by her, Kadiri was quietly approaching her counterpart from behind, ready to jump in and gag her if things got too hellish. "This conceited, manipulative sack of scum tells us he's completely reformed and you expect me to take it on FAITH?!"
"You did with Suboshi," Amiboshi replied quietly.
Tomo's eyes narrowed at that name, and for just a moment he looked every bit as evil as Soi was insisting he was. But... only for a moment. "I don't expect you to take it on faith at all, Soi. I might not like you either, but I don't want either of them to get killed." His sharp nod took in both Chomei and Kadiri, who jumped back with an almost sheepish look as Soi cast a withering eye on her.
"Come on, all he wants is a chance," Katai spoke up, finally arriving at Amiboshi's side. "And Chomei doesn't seem like a bad guy." The two traded glances for a brief moment before the younger continued. "Let's just give him the chance to prove he's telling the truth."
Tomo was watching the young man almost suspiciously – after all, he'd nearly killed the flautist in their lives, so why was that one's incarnate sticking up for him? But he wasn't going to argue - it was what he wanted, after all. He nodded, his performer's training helping give an edge of humility to both action and words. "That's all I want. I don't care about your friendship, but if I don't receive at least a chance, then…" The sentence was left trailing; he had no idea how to finish it. At least he could seem like he knew what was coming next, an easy action for him, and a round of muttered comments raised themselves from the crowd. Tomo just waited.
"A chance." The unexpected voice came from the door to the kitchen, and when Tomo looked there was Suboshi, arms determinedly crossed, watching him unflinchingly with Shirai next to him. "You get one chance."
Tomo hesitated, then nodded. Suboshi nodded back.
"Come on, Naora-chan, we're almost home."
A small, sleepy mph met Keisuke's statement, and when he looked down he could tell that his niece was close to falling asleep on her feet. He gave the girl a fond smile as he easily lifted her into his arms, and she mustered a small one in return before laying her head on his shoulder, her tiny arms going about his neck, and falling asleep before he'd taken three steps.
It really is too late for her to be out. She must be exhausted. Keisuke managed to twist his arm to catch a glimpse of his watch; it was close to 11:30. Even her parents would probably be asleep now, if Taka hadn't stayed up to finish grading papers again – and Miaka probably hadn't let him, after the excitement of the day before. Living the life of a single man had a few advantages, he remarked to himself, but mostly Keisuke wished that he could stop it all, find a woman who'd actually stick with him - all the corny stuff. It must be wonderful to have someone around who knew you inside out, even if you did fight sometimes. But until then, at least he had Naora to distract him, make him wonder if he'd one day spoil his own kids as much as he did her-
Fireworks exploded behind his eyes and the areas around them went dark, his mind sinking quickly into abysmal darkness before he could even wonder what happened. His last conscious thought was to remind himself not to drop Naora, as Miaka would rant and rave at him if he hurt her precious baby. He didn't even feel the arms catch both him and Naora as he started to topple to the sidewalk.
"-and today's high is 23 degrees Celsius, with a light cloud cover over most of the metropolitan area and a twenty percent chance of light showers in the late afternoon and early evening. The sun'll show it's face-"
WHAP.
Reijirou stopped himself from busting the alarm clock into a thousand tiny pieces by the barest margin. He hated waking up at any time, but today was just it – for some reason he didn't want to wake up even more than usual. He pulled his hand back under the comforter on his bed, turning on his side and closing his eyes against the sunlight peeking through his blinds.
Fate, though, seemed to be conspiring against him in the form of a chipper slightly-smaller "body" with his haircut. "Reijiroouuu…" came a light call, almost amused. "Time for class, come on, darling."
"Darling?!" He sat bolt upright, gaping at the seishi in the corner. Nuriko was having a hard time standing as he was laughing his head off at Reijirou's reaction. "The heck did you call me darling for?"
"To get you up!" Nuriko finally managed to smother his laughter, winking at Reijirou. "That thing's been going off for half an hour – you'll be late!"
"Ahhhhhhhh, SHIT!" Reijirou cursed, throwing back the blankets and nearly falling out of bed. Nuriko quickly stepped over to pull him to his feet, and Reijirou scrambled to the closet, pulling out clothes and tossing them left and right, trying to find something to wear, the clothing landing in every conceivable place in the room.
"Ahem… Reijirou…" He glanced up to see a blue-patterned shirt draped over Nuriko's head, and the seishi giving it an ineffectual Look. "I don't particularly like wearing your clothing this way…"
"Ahhhh, sorry." He grinned sheepishly and accepted the shirt, tossing it back in the closet before pawing through the bottom in search of shoes.
"Better hurry up or you're going to be late for class, again."
Reijirou cursed and grabbed a shirt and a pair of khakis, sprinting out the door to the bathroom and grabbing his shoes on the way out. Nuriko just shook his head and followed calmly after him, standing well out of the way when Hajime copied his brother in an explosion from his room along with a mad dash down the hall.
Ten minutes later, Reijirou was clean, dressed, and out the door without any breakfast. Chiaki had already taken off, in the car, so he and Nuriko were forced onto the bus among the early morning commuters (there were more than he expected). Fortunately, the bus stop was only a block from Seinan's main entrance, and once again his track years paid off as he sprinted for class, Nuriko flying effortlessly beside him with a bit of an entertained smirk on his face as Reijirou raced through the door (startling at least three students and one professor) and up the stairs and halls to Taka's class, his backpack banging on his shoulder with every step. He skidded into Taka's room at 8:58 and stopped himself before he fell down the stairs.
It would've worked, had Nuriko been watching where he was going. He wasn't. Reijirou hadn't even finished getting his balance back before Nuriko ran into him (completely on accident, of course), and he couldn't stay upright no matter how much his arms windmilled. He pitched forward and skidded painfully down the stairs, making every head in the room turn to watch. Someone finally stuck out a hand when he'd gotten about halfway and snagged the shoulder of his shirt, halting his headlong rush after one more step and nearly choking him to death in the process.
Taka was staring at him with the rest of the class as he got to his feet again. "Enomoto, what possesses you to make these 'interesting' entrances to my room?" he inquired, unhooking his reading glasses from behind his ears. Taka had insisted on behaving with Reijirou and Risako the same way he behaved with the rest of his students, so as to draw less suspicion to them (and not get him accused of favoritism by other students or professors). Thus, the brusque attitude and use of his last name, though he knew very well what caused that slight mishap.
"Sorry, Taka, I lost my balance," he replied somewhat painfully. Reijirou turned around on pretense of retrieving his backpack from where it had fallen off during the wild ride and glared at Nuriko.
"Oops. Ehehehehe…" Nuriko grinned, incredibly sheepish, and gave a small wave to Reijirou. "Sorry?"
Taka lowered his head in order to hide his laughter and shook it. "All right, just find a seat. We've got Rome today, everybody please get out your notebooks, and if you have that book with you turn to page seventy-seven." He started pushing the overhead into place.
Reijirou gave the guy who stopped him a brief thanks, then continued the rest of the way down the stairs and up the other set, heading for his usual seat on the aisle, ignoring Nuriko (who floated along behind him) for the time being. As usual, Risako was already there in the seat next to his, notebook open and ready for class. She glanced from him to Nuriko quickly, hiding a laugh, then started paying attention to Taka as he started the morning's opening lecture. Reijirou nodded a greeting, sat down, pulled out his book and notebook, and quickly began scribbling notes.
Taka was an excellent teacher, but the pace of his lectures was fast and furious, with every main point listed on the overhead. Unfortunately for some members of the class, Taka was also the type of teacher who expected one to know the details concerning the main points – all the stuff that he didn't bother to write down. One set of students had developed a type of shorthand for his class and was making a small fortune selling "manuals" to other individuals. Reijirou hadn't purchased any badly-made computer-paper books, instead writing faster than he'd ever had cause to before and feeling grateful that Taka only lectured once a week – he couldn't deal with the hand cramp more than that.
Nuriko had taken a seat beside her and was watching Taka, his chin propped on his hand, with a small smile on his face and what could have been a gleam of pride in his eyes, when there was a small pop of air just behind Reijirou. Neither he nor Risako dared glance back, although they were sitting in the back of the group as usual, but Nuriko turned for a quick look and Reijirou could have sworn that Taka glanced up as well. "Hotohori-sama," the purple-haired seishi said quietly so as not to disturb Taka, and Reijirou gave a slight nod: he was "hosting" Nuriko and Hotohori for the day, and had in fact began to wonder when the former emperor would appear. Risako raised her hand to twiddle her fingers over her shoulder at him, but immediately returned to taking notes before her paper jumped off the desk from the speed of her writing. Reijirou heard Nuriko suppress a laugh and felt certain that the emperor had at least smiled at Risako's actions.
With Hotohori there, though, his concentration was starting to drift. Risako gave his ankle a light kick at one point when his pen drifted off the paper, leaving a smattering ink trail on the desk, but after only a few words his mind drifted again. Hotohori and Nuriko – the two pieces of the most complicated puzzle he'd ever run across. How did they fit together? From the way they'd both been acting whenever they were together, they were nothing more than good friends, and Reijirou doubted that Hotohori felt anything more for Nuriko than a brotherly kind of love. But Nuriko, now… he was a whole other matter. Was he simply ignoring or hiding his feelings, or did he not have any romantic interest in the emperor anymore? Relations between them had improved tremendously since his outburst Saturday morning, but he still remembered Nuriko almost pleading not to make him find out if he still loved Hotohori. At the moment he felt secure with the way he was, the way he was choosing to live, but it was always possible that there would be a moment of doubt again, and indeed, even as he was thinking he could feel it beginning to trickle into his stomach and settle there like a lump of lead-
Reijirou nearly jumped out of his seat as sudden banging ended his reverie. Looking almost wildly about, he saw students everywhere slamming desks back into storage positions, dropping full bags on seats, jumping down the steps and heading for the door. He had to blink in amazement; he'd wasted almost the entire class lost in thought. Next to him, already standing and mostly packed, Risako gave him an amused little glance. "So you are awake," she remarked cheerfully as she closed her notebook and slid it out of sight. "What a change, what a change."
"It seems to me to be a bit of a waste to lose yourself in your mind and fail to take advantage of your excellent educational opportunities," Hotohori added with an amused note to a more formal than usual phrase.
Nuriko giggled. "You're lucky we're in a public place – I was thinking of dropping something on your head."
"Good thing you didn't," Reijirou quipped, glancing at his paper and wincing. Only a page and a half of notes, and he'd seen Risako'd had seven from that day alone. "Can I copy your notes? I swear I'll give them back later."
"Sure." She extracted the notebook from her backpack and handed it over. When Reijirou finished repacking, he finally stood up and headed down the stairs, adjusting the strap on the bag as he went. He'd already set foot on the floor before he noticed someone standing at Taka's desk, where the teacher had reclaimed his seat, watching him with distinct unease. Taka was holding a piece of paper in his hand, his expression unreadable behind his glasses, just staring at it.
"I'm sorry, Professor Sukunami, but that's what she said." The visitor's voice was quavering. She was a rather petite woman with short hair whom Reijirou finally recognized as being some sort of secretary. Risako and Hotohori cut off their conversation to listen, the small group frozen at the bottom of the stairs, the only other people remaining in the room.
"When did this come in?" Taka's voice was almost displaying no emotion other than a distinct tightness that told Reijirou he was fighting to keep it under control.
"Only a few minutes ago, sir." The secretary wrung her hands, even more nerves entering her voice. "I would have come then, but he said I had to wait-"
It was too late for explanations. In less than a second Taka had thrown himself away from the desk and sped up the stairs, the door banging open before him seemingly of its own accord. The secretary could only watch the flight path in shock, but Reijirou and Risako reacted immediately: both of them took off sprinting, Reijirou taking the lead, and shouting Taka's name at the top of their lungs. The two seishi disappeared, Nuriko reappearing next to the speeding students, seeming to concentrate on something. A bit of red light seemed to dance beneath his clothing.
"Left!" he suddenly called. The two unquestioningly turned, still running, and then "Right!" down a set of stairs and another right, then a left straight into the staff room.
Taka was already there, breathing heavily, Hotohori with him, the remains of both their symbols fading from forehead and neck, respectively. Without stopping to talk, the teacher shoved the paper he'd been staring at earlier into their hands, then turned to pick up the phone and quickly punched in a number. Reijirou's mouth was open, the question was poised to emerge, and Risako jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow and pointed at the paper. He looked down, and his eyes widened in shock.
"DAMN!" Taka roared, slamming down the phone so hard the receiver cracked. "FUCK!" A string of yells, obscenities, and strangulated cries poured themselves from his throat as he again lifted the receiver and brought it crashing down on the tabletop, and again and again. Chips of plastic flew as the receiver crumbled more and more under the teacher's abuse. All Reijirou and Risako could do was stare, but a flash of red light came from Nuriko's direction before the seishi walked over to the teacher and grabbed his arms, arm guards shining dully. Hotohori took the opportunity to extract the battered, broken phone from Taka's grasp and move the entire apparatus away from him as Taka struggled against Nuriko's bonds. "DAMNIT NURIKO LET ME GO!"
"Not until you stop destroying stuff." Nuriko's voice, though a bit shaky, was still far more under control than Taka's. "What's going on? How could this happen?"
"LET! ME! GO!"
"Taka," Risako began, stepping forward, "please, calm down and try to explain." She was hesitant to approach someone so enraged, but that didn't stop her. "What happened to Keisuke and Naora-chan?"
Taka fought and cursed uselessly for another couple of minutes as Reijirou locked the door, preventing their sensei from escaping again without an explanation. "You know it must have something to do with Ashitare," he spoke quietly, back still to the group. "You know we'll hear eventually, anyway. And we want to help – if more people are looking for them, then there's a better chance of them being found, isn't there?" It had occurred to Reijirou that since neither Keisuke nor Naora were seishi, it would be impossible for any of the seishi to trace their ki. With the easiest method of locating someone out of the picture, it was left for a determined group of people working on foot to find them – so the more that knew, the better.
"DAMNIT THEY'VE GOT MY KID!"
"AND OUR FRIENDS!" Nuriko yelled, just about fed up with it, wrenching Taka's arms into positions that made him howl with pain. "Now TELL US or I knock you out and go find Miaka!"
The seishi finally released Taka, and for a moment all the teacher did was stand there, glaring at the floor and massaging the biceps in his right arm. When he looked up again, they could all see his glare and the faint sheen of red that was starting to glow at his forehead.
"Keisuke tries to help us with Naora by giving us a night off sometimes." His tone was fast and clipped, so abrupt it was impossible to reconcile it with the yelling from earlier. "Last night he came by the apartment to pick her up, and they left to do all the usual things they do. She spends the night at his place on those nights, and he brings her back before he goes to work in the morning. Judging by that-" he nodded briskly at the paper Risako still held "-they never came back this morning. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to call my wife."
"You can't," Reijirou commented as Taka turned to find the phone. Hotohori held up the fractured device, an expression of utmost calm on his face. Taka blinked at it in surprise for a second, then scowled again and stomped to the door, which Reijirou blocked. "Listen, Taka," he said in an undertone, grabbing the man's upper arm to force him to listen, "you've got every right to be pissed. I would be too. But flying into a rage will not help either of them. So let's go find Miaka and ask her what's going on."
Taka shrugged off his student's arm, unlocked the door, and stormed out.
The ride to the Sukunami apartment was tense. Taka hadn't taken his car to work that day, so outside the building he hailed a cab and climbed in, taking no notice of Reijirou and Risako as they scrambled in after him. Nuriko dove into Reijirou, and Hotohori settled himself into the front seat. Taka gave his address quickly, tersely, before turning to the window and, to all appearances, stare at the passing scenery with such intensity that any words anyone were to speak to him immediately died on their lips. But there was something in the way his fingers twitched on his knee that made Reijirou sure his teacher was not seeing a bit of it. No one spoke. The driver, who seemed to be a gregarious sort under normal circumstances, attempted once or twice to start a conversation before being silenced by a meaningful look from Risako.
Several terse minutes later the cab pulled up in front of the Sukunami's building. Taka shoved a bill at the driver and bolted, Reijirou and Risako following and ignoring the driver shout at them about forgetting their change. Hotohori stayed behind for a second, then reappeared with them just as a yell came from the direction of the taxi. Reijirou didn't want to know.
Through the door, up the stairs, and Taka burst into his apartment. "MIAKA!" he yelled, still ignoring the two students following him and the former emperor. Now that they were released from the confines of the taxi, Nuriko was struggling out of Reijirou, but there was no time to pay attention to that. "MIAKA!"
"In here."
The other four shared a glance as Taka tore off in the direction Miaka' voice had come from. In total contrast to her husband, Miaka sounded… beaten. Quiet, exhausted, small, it was as if she had given up.
"No… she wouldn't have…" Risako whispered, denying their unspoken mutual thought.
"You never know what extreme situations will force people to do," Hotohori answered quietly. "Let's go see what happened."
They nodded, then all four started down the hallway to the door Taka had vanished through, not sure what they would find and almost not wanting to know. The door was open, revealing a small room decorated entirely in pink and white – white walls, pink spread on the small white bed, white lamp with pink shade, pink stenciling on the white dresser. A small mountain of stuffed animals presided over one corner, while an adult-sized rocking chair sat in the corner next to a child-sized reproduction. Miaka sat in the rocking chair, far too pale, limp-haired. Tear tracks shone on her cheeks, and she was more lifeless than anyone could remember – even by Nuriko or Hotohori's memory. Taka knelt next to her, her hand in his, the rage gone to be replaced with a look of something close to agony. He looked up as they entered, and Reijirou nearly stumbled back – Taka looked completely helpless. He was a lost as a five-year-old; now that he'd made it home he had no idea what to do, no course of action to take, and he was entirely defeated.
"I don't know what happened," Miaka said, obviously holding back more tears. The chair moved slowly back and forth, creaking a little, even though she wasn't pushing it. "They're usually here by seven, or eight at the latest. I wondered, but I guessed they stopped for breakfast or something somewhere…" She paused to swipe at her eyes with her left hand. Her right was clutching something square and silver. "But Nii-chan always calls when he does that. And by nine there was no call, and I only got his answering machine when I called his apartment, so I went over there… Their beds, Taka. Their beds hadn't been slept in and her little pajamas were laid out on her bed like she was going to put them on any second…" Miaka lost her battle, dissolving into a wail and falling over to lean against her husband and cry, shaking with the force of her sobs. All Taka could do was wrap his arms around her shoulders and hold her, too stricken to cry.
"I'll… go make some tea." Risako took a step back at a questioning look from Reijirou. "What? It might help them calm down…" She turned and left before he could say anything, footsteps quiet on the carpet.
Nuriko hesitantly took a step forward, paused, then seemed to steel himself and step forward again, then again, to finally kneel on the other side of Miaka's rocking chair from Taka, taking her hand between his. "Miaka, I… I'm sorry. I know it sounds trite, but I am, and I want to help you find your daughter."
"And I, too." Hotohori almost seemed to copy the smaller seishi as he started forward, then stopped, then continued. "I'll help you search for Keisuke." The emperor placed a hand on Taka's shoulder, fingers tightening slightly in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture. "We'll all help; all the seishi. With everyone, it shouldn't be hard."
"Umm…"
Eight eyes turned to Risako, framed in the doorway. Miaka was still sobbing into Taka's shoulder, unable to move.
"I found this by the door – it looks like someone slid it under the crack. They must have done it right after we came in." The red-haired girl hesitantly stepped up to hand Taka a piece of paper dangling from her fingers. Reijirou saw what appeared to be a scattered explosion of things before the teacher faced the paper his way. Taka's eyes traveled across the paper several times, becoming harder and more angry with every pass – and his forehead was beginning to glow red again. After a few moments he smacked the paper down onto the floor, glaring at it for all he was worth, and Reijirou slowly approached to see what more bad news had come.
It was like something out of a bad paperback mystery: the chaos was formed of letters that had been snipped out of magazines and newspapers, all of different sizes and color schemes so Reijirou almost felt a seizure coming on simply looking at them. Whether the writers thought that tactic would scare them more or just be a nice touch was impossible to say, but there was no denying the words were every bit as bad as they had dreaded:
-Ashitare
An ink paw print lay below the "signature". Scotch taped next to it were two small chunks of hair, almost an identical sandy brown - a color that matched the picture of Keisuke holding Naora on his shoulders, the little girl laughing delightedly, that slipped out of Miaka's hand and fell to the floor with barely a sound.
AUTHOR'S NOTES II: All right... I know y'all wanna kill me. I accept that. BUT! If you do, you won't know what happens, mwahahahaha!
I discovered that something else was holding me back as well - I was trying to write something that did not fit in with the plot and the characters. I'm not telling you what it is, but I was trying to put it in and I didn't realize until May that it didn't work. My stories are smarter than me sometimes - it just stopped letting itself be written. That was mostly the cause of my stall. So once I went back and reworked stuff (which meant a lot of thinking), it all went more smoothly. Still took two months, but hey, I finished it and I know where things are going after this.
And speaking of things... If you read my other stories, you've probably noticed lack of updates on them as well. I'm happy to say that I have worked more on Market, and I've gotten a lot done on the next part of Wine-Colored Geisha. Geisha seems to be going faster, so that'll probably be the next thing up, but Market's getting into a flow now as well. I promise not to make you wait so long for the next chapter of anything! Once again, I'm sorry, but I'm going to make it up to you! Jaa!