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Only Time: Deja Vu

Chapter Twelve

By J. Marie

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Warning!! This is a lemon yaoi fanfiction starring Nakago and Tasuki from Fushigi Yugi. It is rated NC-17. I'm gonna do a little Miaka bitching now. I was rewatching the FY series, and has anyone noticed that everyone babies her? I mean, don't let Tamahome suffer too long over the brutal murder of his family, because it would disturb Miaka. Don't mourn too long over anyone's death, because it would bother Miaka. Let's remake Nuriko into Miaka's ideal, because otherwise, she might get upset. Oh, and let's have everyone fall in love with Miaka, because after all, she might get upset if she's not found desirable by everyone in the cast. Oh, bloody Christ on a cross, why didn't they just hand her a pacifier and lock her up in a room with robots made to look like everyone, so they could fulfill her every dream and desire? Sorry, but I was cheering the Seiryu Seven on. Kill the bitch! Death to Suzaku no Miko! The show woulda been a million times better if Yu Watase coulda created a more mature, self-sufficient character, and a plotline that didn't revolve around some gushing priestess. Okay, my Miaka rant is over. For now.

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Who can say
where the road goes
where the day flows
- only time
And who can say
If your love grows
as your heart chose
- only time

Who can say
why your heart sighs
as your love flies
- only time
And who can say
why your heart cries
when your love lies
- only time

Who can say
when the roads meet
that love might be
in your heart
And who can say
when the day sleeps
If the night keeps
all your heart

Night keeps all your heart

And who can say
If your love grows
as your heart chose
- only time
Who can say
where the road goes
where the day flows
- only time

Who knows - only time

Who knows - only time

-- "Only Time" by Enya

 

The pink-haired boy moaned softly, rolling onto his side, twisting the sheets around his small, slender body. His body was soaked with sweat, and his eyelids fluttered, his hands making fists around the sheets.

His name was Miboshi, and he was having a bad dream. A bad dream that wasn't a dream.

Because it was his memories.

There was a reason the malicious sorcerer named Miboshi had forgotten his past. A very good reason.

Miboshi gave a small choking gasp in his sleep.

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He was a little boy.

He couldn't remember his real name.

Did it matter?

He was such a small, fragile looking little boy.

He looked like a girl, with that pink hair.

His parents died when he was very small, and he lived off the streets.

He was ten now.

Young Miboshi slipped on the rocky ground, falling to the ground. He turned to face his pursuers, his elfin face drenched in tears. The five other boys crept closer, the youngest being eight, the oldest twelve. Cruel smiles were pasted on all their faces. Even the youngest had a few inches on the tiny Miboshi.

"Looks like a girl, but he's a boy..." the oldest sneered, bending over to pick up a stick.

It was raining.

"Stupid girl-boy is tryin' to take over our territory. He needs to go beg somewhere else. He ain't part of our gang," another said.

Children can be so cruel.

"Yeah, we don't let girl-boys into our gang!" yet another cried.

Miboshi began to sob.

The children fell upon him then, beating him with their fists, and striking him with their sticks. His small body tore easily, bruising and bleeding at every hit. He sobbed quietly, but never begged them to stop. What was the point?

They wouldn't stop, no matter how much he cried, how much he bled.

He didn't even feel the pain anymore. Miboshi struggled, escaping the grasp of the biggest boy, and began to run, his eyes blurred with blood, and rain.

He ran as fast as his broken body would allow him.

The other boys pursued him, calling him cruel names.

Miboshi so desperately wanted to be away from their hate.

One threw a rock at his back and he fell to his knees, crying. Not even escape was allowed.

How he hated those children.

Hated children.

Hated.

Miboshi got up and ran, a moment before his attackers fell on him.

But it was dark, and it was rainy, and his own blood blurred his eyes.

He didn't see the cliff, until he fell off of it, in blind flight from his attackers.

Precious seconds were spent in the air, before his body met the rocks below.

Seconds spent hating, wishing to destroy his enemies.

His neck glowed blue, with the seishi symbol of Basket a nanosecond before his body crashed on the ground, bones shattering at the impact.

And then suddenly, Miboshi wasn't in his body anymore.

He was in one of the shocked children, who stood over the cliff staring below at the boy they had never intended to kill. He was in the youngest, whose will was the weakest.

Miboshi grinned, turning to the other children. They gazed back, confused, frightened.

And Miboshi killed all the children, one by one, possessed by hatred and vengeance. They put up little resistance.

After all, what are the powers of mere children against a Seiryu seishi?

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Miboshi awoke, soaked in sweat, and gasping for breath.

Now he knew.

He knew.

He wasn't a monster.

Like Nakago, and all the other Seiryu seishi, there was a reason why he became evil. It did not excuse his actions, but it made him human, and it gave even him hope for redemption.

There was hope for all the Seiryu. Miboshi knew that now.

It was the middle of the night, but Miboshi dressed quickly. He had to tell Chiriko.

For as knowledge must be tempered by wisdom, wisdom must also be tempered by knowledge.

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Miboshi was actually getting good at climbing buildings know.

The drop from Keisuke's window still disturbed him, though.

Miboshi had decided to climb up to Keisuke's window, rather than banging on the front door and having to explain to Keisuke's mother why he needed to speak to Keisuke. Chiriko often spent the night at Keisuke's house, and was good friends with the older man, so Miboshi knew that Chiriko was most likely here. And breaking into Keisuke's house would be far better received than breaking into Chiriko's. Miboshi had seen the size of Chiriko's father and would rather not anger the large American.

Miboshi jimmied open the window, as before, and slunk inside, peering about in the darkness.

The room smelled a little odd, and there was some heavy breathing coming from Keisuke's bed.

Was Keisuke sick? And where was Chiriko?

Miboshi strode over to Keisuke's bedside, listening to the hitched breath, and wondered if Keisuke was having a stroke or something. "Keisuke? Keisuke-san, are you alright?" Miboshi asked in concern, reaching out and pulling back the covers, wondering if he would need to do CPR on the older man.

The sight Miboshi uncovered caused the rather sexually naive boy to stop breathing.

"Whoa!!" Keisuke cried, grabbing a pillow and covering himself.

"By Suzaku's feathers, couldn't you have called first???" Chiriko screeched, tearing the covers from Miboshi's grasp and covering his nude form.

"Ehhh....." Miboshi gasped, his lavender eyes as round as saucers.

Keisuke turned on a lamp, a frown etched onto his handsome face. "You had better have a damn good reason for breaking into my room a second time, Miboshi!" Keisuke said sternly. Nothing pissed him off more than having his sex interrupted.

"Ehhh....." was all Miboshi could say.

"Um, look, Miboshi, this was kind of an important moment for us... Why did you come here in the middle of the night?" Chiriko asked, trying not to be irritated.

"Ehhhh....." Miboshi choked.

"And through my window!" Keisuke exclaimed. "I need better security here!"

"Ehhhhhh......" Miboshi said.

"Um, Miboshi.... C'mon, Miboshi. Get over it. You act like you've never seen two guys have sex before..." Chiriko said a little crossly.

"Ehhhhhhhhhh......" Miboshi moaned.

"You know, for someone who's supposed to be super wise, he's kinda naive, isn't he?" Keisuke asked.

"Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhh........" Miboshi mumbled.

"I just don't think he ever figured me to be gay, I guess," Chiriko sweatdropped.

"Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh........" Miboshi gasped before collapsing under the weight of a giant sweatdrop, his face blue and red, yet not purple.

Chiriko and Keisuke leaned over, watching chibi Miboshi twitching in shock curiously. Chiriko giggled. "Poor guy. I don't think he expected to find us in the middle of having sex...." he giggled.

"Lucky for him this is the third time around otherwise I'd be really irritated...." Keisuke said sourly.

Miboshi curled up into a fetal position. "Oh, for the love of Seiryu, please put your clothes on...." Miboshi moaned pathetically.

"Um, where did we throw our clothes, Keisuke?" Chiriko asked slyly, looking about the room, which was decorated in strewn clothing.

"I guess we'll just put on my kimonos until we sort it all out," Keisuke chuckled, rummaging around in his closet. Miboshi ran to the couch and hid his head under the pillows until they were both dressed.

After a few minutes, Chiriko tapped him on the back. "It's safe now, baka. Now what is so important you run over here in the middle of the night for?" he asked as Keisuke stood behind him, looking curious.

Miboshi sat up, looking into Chiriko's eyes. "You're telepathic, I know. It'll be easier and more believable if you just read my mind. I'm lowering my defenses... I want you to see who I was...." Miboshi said softly.

Chiriko hesitated for a moment, wary of his former enemy. But the sincerity of Miboshi's gaze convinced him otherwise.

Chiriko took Miboshi's hand as he entered the youth's mind, peering into memories long forgotten.

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Tasuki was surprised to wake up before Nakago.

He was glad it was Saturday, because it meant he was able to sleep in and do whatever he wanted. Junko had even promised to take him and Nakago horseback riding the next day.

Tasuki smiled to himself as he stepped inside of his bathroom, turning on the shower. He liked this "Tasuki and Nakago" thing. It was nice to have someone to go places with that was more than just a friend.

The redhead began singing to himself as he entered his shower, albeit badly and off-key. He closed his eyes as he shampooed his hair, grinning to himself as he sang. Tasuki rinsed his hair out, shaking it slightly, blinking under the water. Maybe he was losing it, but the water seemed hotter than a moment before....

Tasuki reached back to grab his soap, but grabbed a hand instead. The redhead squealed in surprise, spinning around and slipping on the shower floor. He fell against a broad, muscular chest, and felt, rather than heard the chuckle.

"Taking a shower without me? How rude..." Nakago purred, pulling Tasuki back upright.

"You scared me!" Tasuki sputtered, his golden eyes narrowed.

"Hmm... How shall I make it up to you, then?" Nakago grinned.

Tasuki grinned back, his fangs peeking out. "Wellllllll... You could always wash me," he said slyly.

"And you would enjoy that?" Nakago asked coyly, raising a golden eyebrow.

"Imm.... Immen..... Immense..... Immensely...." Tasuki stuttered, trying to pronounce the word he wasn't accustomed to.

"Ah, a big word. I'm impressed. I think I might just wash you," Nakago smiled.

Tasuki slid a hand around Nakago's partially erect cock. "I could make it worth your while," he whispered, his voice gravelly in it's seduction.

"You always make it worth my while," Nakago whispered huskily, bending down to kiss Tasuki's generous lips.

The bathroom door rattled loudly, and both boys winced at the screech of Tasuki's older sister. "Hey!! Hurry it up in there, ya sexually overactive hornballs!! You need to get ready to get out of here!! You promised me peace and quiet so I could paint today!! So make it a quickie!! No foreplay!" Junko hollered through the door.

Nakago sighed, as he listened to Junko rummage around, picking up Tasuki's room and collecting his laundry. "There's nothing like a woman to ruin the mood," he sighed.

"And then people wonder I hate women......" Tasuki grumbled sourly.

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Chichiri sighed as he hung up the phone. He kept trying to convince himself his dreams were nothing but a subconscious manifestation of his jealousy over Tasuki finding a boyfriend.

But still.

When he called Tasuki's house, his sister had answered in an odd voice and said Tasuki had left with Nakago earlier. She sounded half-aware, as if in a dream herself. How odd.

A knock on Chichiri's door startled the blue-haired youth.

"Come in," he called after a moment of regaining his calm.

The door opened slowly, and Nuriko, dressed as a woman, as he always did when they weren't in school, peered in. "Chichiri... can we talk...?" Nuriko asked tentatively, his woman's contralto quavering, even as his eyes glittered with unshed tears.

"Um, sure... Come on in, no da," Chichiri said brightly, wondering what heart ache ailed the purple-haired youth now.

Nuriko flew into the room and collapsed in front of Chichiri, burying his face in Chichiri's lap, sobbing copiously. Hysterics and melodramatics were Nuriko's forte`.

"Oh, Chichiri!! I'm so miserable!!!" Nuriko cried into Chichiri's thighs. "Hotohori doesn't love me!!"

Chichiri sweatdropped, blushing furiously. "Um, Nuriko... Can we talk with your face not in my lap?" he asked in a nervous voice.

Nuriko raised his face and grinned sheepishly. He jumped up and sat down next to Chichiri on the bed, clinging to the handsome youth's arm instead. "Sorry..... But what should I do, Chichiri?? I can't live without him!! I love him so much!! But he doesn't love me!!" he cried.

Chichiri sighed in relief. Having Nuriko, especially dressed as a beautiful woman, with his face in Chichiri's lap made the blue-haired boy uncomfortable. "Well..... To be honest, Nuriko, what made you think he ever would? Hotohori, when he's not busy telling himself how beautiful he is, quite obviously likes women. I mean... I'm surprised anything would ever go this far...." he said, trying to be realistic.

"Yes, but that's just the thing. Hotohori does like girls! But he let me.... well, I was surprised, but for the past month or so... Not very often, you see, it's only happened three times, and I have to be wearing women's clothing.... But see...."

"I don't need the details, Nuriko. I can guess, ya know," Chichiri said, his eyebrow twitching.

"So I thought he might love me after all!" Nuriko pouted.

Chichiri sighed. "Nuriko.... Hotohori has this set ideal of the perfect woman, and he won't budge from it for anyone. You should know that by now. Hes very stubborn, not unlike you. I don't know what to tell you...." he sighed.

"He said he liked me only as a friend! How can he reject me, Chichiri? I'm always there for him! I give him support, bring him things, take care of him... I try to do anything to prove my love for him is true.... I love him so much, it hurts! And he doesn't love me!" Nuriko sobbed loudly, and tears sprayed onto Chichiri and his bed. Not only was Nuriko a drag queen, but a drama queen.

Chichiri sighed. Hotohori did rely heavily on Nuriko's endless support and love. Not unlike Tamahome, he was perfectly content to be loved, and not love back. Only Hotohori consciously knew Nuriko loved him, while Tamahome only subconsciously knew Tasuki loved him.

"Look, Nuriko, I don't know if this will work, but maybe Hotohori needs to know what it's like not to have you around. Not to have all this love and support. Show him how life would be like without you. And if that doesn't make him come around, then at least you would have moved on... Does this make sense to you?" Chichiri offered.

Nuriko seemed to consider the idea and then brightened. "Maybe I can try making him jealous!! I know!! I'll go out with Tomo!! I know he likes me!! He said as much last year, when he found out I was gay! You're a genius, Chichiri!! Thank you!!" the purple-haired boy gushed, and hugged Chichiri so tight he thought he would die, before dashing out the room, excited.

"That, wasn't exactly what I meant, but you're welcome, no da," Chichiri sighed.

There's nothing like a melodramatic crossdresser to make you forget your troubles. Try it some time.

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Tasuki and Nakago arrived back at Tasuki's house near dinner time, both expecting Junko to be in the kitchen, cooking their dinner.

But the kitchen was empty, the house silent.

Junko had asked for a day of quiet, so she could paint for a while. She rarely painted, and only when moody fits came upon her. And she preferred to be completely alone when she did so.

"Where is she?" Nakago asked, frowning at the lack of dinner. He was growing rather accustomed to being taken care of by Junko.

"I... don't know...." Tasuki frowned, worried. Nothing was ever quiet if Junko was around. A TV would be on, a radio, something. Junko liked noise, said she couldn't stand silence. Tasuki felt oddly in the pit of his stomach, a premonition of bad things. He was worried for no reason.

Tasuki headed deeper in the house, towards Junko's studio, where she wrote her stories, and painted her paintings. Nakago fell silent behind, catching some of Tasuki's concern.

Something was not right.

Tasuki reached the studio door, which was slightly ajar. He pushed on it slowly, listening to the creak of the hinges. Was Junko alright? What was going on?

In the studio, sitting in front of an easel and painting furiously, was Junko. As Tasuki approached his sister, who was painting like a mad woman, he realized with eerie horror, that his sister was painting with her eyes closed.

Both Tasuki and Nakago's eyes fell on the painting at the same time.

It was of an austere man, with deep green hair, and light green eyes. He had a thin, drooping mustache on his handsome, perfect face. He was so beautiful, it hurt to look at him. His face was harsh in it's beauty, and his clothes seemed to made of dark green scales..... or was that his skin? On his forehead was a green symbol, a character of great power.

Both Tasuki and Nakago felt they had seen that face before.

Junko spoke in a voice that was not hers, "The Earth. The Earth is his element. He's a tortoise, but the tortoise is joined with black snakes, a union often forgotten... He is the patron of tactical warfare, and intelligence is something he admires, and strength something he expects.....

"I think that's why he ate me. Because I wasn't strong."

Tasuki and Nakago simultaneously started, something deep within both of them stirring at the girl's words. Junko's eyes glowed green when she opened them, and there was an odd look fondness and revulsion on her face as she painted.

And then suddenly, everything was back to normal. Junko's eyes were brown again, and she set down her paintbrush, not even glancing at her painting.

"Hey guys! Nice to see you back!! Would you like some dinner?" she asked brightly, as if nothing odd had happened.

Both seishi had suddenly lost their appetite.

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Yuiren Sukunami was sick and tired of everyone babying her.

"I'm not a baby, Tamahome!! I can be by myself!" she cried in exasperation, pulling her arm away from her big brother's grasp.

"Last time I let you alone, you almost got ran over by a train!" Tamahome growled.

"There's no trains around here, so get over it," Yuiren sighed. Her brother was way too overprotective of her.

Tamahome sighed and turned to the food cart vendor and began to order his dinner, giving the poor vendor a long list of food. Yuiren rolled her eyes. Her mother and brother were such pigs, and so ridiculous. She was only nine, and felt more mature than her own mother.

But then, that's not saying much, considering the woman in question was Miaka Yuki-Sukunami.

Yuiren grew bored, and more annoyed with every passing second. She had to be somewhere. She wasn't sure where, but knew she needed to be there.

The young girl's hazel eyes glinted mischeviously, and ran off quietly, unnoticed by her brother until his dinner was over...

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Yuiren finally felt calm when she reached a garden.

She needed to be here, she knew.

The young girl walked around the garden, smiling at the beautiful flowers there. Each was more exquisite than the last. The garden almost seemed magical in nature. Yuiren felt happy, content. She was where she needed to be, in this beautiful garden.

Yuiren paused when she caught sight of a beautiful young man, whose beauty outshone all his flowers. His skin was a burnt cinnamon, his long hair a soft black. His eyes were a deep, dark blue, filled with a love of life. His face was almost effeminate in it's delicate beauty. He looked to be about eighteen, with the slim body of youth.

The handsome young man looked up as Yuiren slowly approached, smiling softly at her, everything about him glowing in warmth and love. "Hello," he said in his soft, melodious voice.

"Hello," Yuiren smiled, clutching her little yellow sweater about her, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He looked like the boy from her dreams!

"Nice to meet you, little flower. My name is Tatara. What's yours?" he asked. It was like listening to bells.

"Yuiren....." the girl smiled softly.

"Now how did you get in here?" he asked gently, standing up and wiping his hands off on his apron.

"I... walked...?" Yuiren said tentatively.

"I see..... Well, I welcome your company. Would you like to stay for dinner?" Tatara invited, all smiles.

Before the girl could respond, Tamahome's shrill cry interrupted them. "There you are!! Yuiren, what do you mean by running off!! We're a mile away from home!" the raven-haired youth puffed, running up next to the girl, looking irritated.

Yuiren glared at her brother. "Tamahome....." she cried in exasperation. Why did he have to find her now?

"Ah. It seems you have other dinner plans... Perhaps you will visit me again soon, young Yuiren. I should like it if you do," Tatara smiled sadly.

"Heh?" Tamahome asked in confusion, eyeing the strange youth before him, as Yuiren smiled at Tatara happily.

"Oh, yes, Tatara.... I will see you again. We won't be apart for much longer....." she said, taking her brother's hand.

"I've waited nine years, little flower. I can wait another nine if necessary...." Tatara smiled, and turned back to his garden.

Tamahome scratched his head. "O-o-okay........ Weirdos. You're all weirdos!" he pronounced before dragging his little sister back home.

Yuiren smiled as she was taken home. She had found him. She had found the boy of her dreams.

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"Alright! It's not that hard, Tasuki!!"

The redhead sweatdropped and stared at his horse, who stared back at him. It was a standoff.

Both Nakago and Junko were mounted on their horses, staring at Tasuki with the same expression of bemusement. Tasuki sighed, and grabbed the horse's bridle, and once again attempted to mount his horse.

And promptly fell off on the other side, landing on his head.

Nakago blinked, wondering the redhead was going to need medical assistance. Junko began to laugh. "Good thing he landed on his head. It's the hardest part of him!" she said through her giggles.

"Hardy har har. Shut up, ya stupid wench! You're throwing off my groove!!" Tasuki cried angrily, blushing furiously, embarrassed to be proved so inept in front of Nakago.

"Groove? You need a groove to mount a horse?" Nakago asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Ah, shut up, both of yas! You can both suck me sideways!!" Tasuki cried out, grumbling as he tried to mount his horse again. The range owner was laughing in the distance.

"Sorry, I have rule about not performing oral on my relatives," Junko smirked.

"But I could always do so later, if you wish," Nakago smirked, enjoying the way Tasuki fell off the horse again, but this time not from mounting it improperly.

Tasuki rose up, brushing dirt and leaves form his fiery mane, his face a bright shade of red. "Nak-a-gooo!" he whined. "You promised not to talk about sex in front of my sister!"

"Alright, I apologize. But it's not sex. It's fucking incredible sex," Nakago grinned, finding nothing more amusing, and even a little arousing, than watching Tasuki blush and fall down before he even got on the horse.

"It's fucking incredible sex that's gonna have to wait a lot longer to be had if he doesn't hurry up and get on the goddam horse," Junko sighed.

Tasuki, still blushing, but furious and determined, finally mounted his horse, and actually managed to stay on, which caused him to stick his tongue out at his sister and boyfriend. Junko rolled her eyes, but Nakago rode up beside Tasuki, who was now making faces on top of sticking out his tongue. The blonde reached out and grabbed Tasuki's tongue, holding it firmly between thumb and forefinger.

"What have I told you about sticking your tongue out without intending on using it on me? I think I should punish you tonight, for your misbehavior," Nakago scolded with a mischievous smile. Tasuki made an odd noise of embarrassment, and turned redder than his hair.

"He's so cute when he blushes. But could you have mercy on an old thirty-one year old woman, and not be so loud tonight?" Junko asked with a broad grin.

"We shall endeavor to accommodate you, Junko-san," Nakago smiled, releasing Tasuki's tongue.

"Can we please ride now?" Tasuki said shortly, his face still red, and his eyes glittering in embarrassment.

"Why not?" Junko laughed, and took off at full speed, ahead of the two younger boys. The teenagers followed her, Tasuki with some trouble, but luckily, Nakago helped him out.

Horseback riding was one of Junko's joys, and she rode slightly ahead of Tasuki and Nakago, her laughter reaching their ears. Tasuki was relieved to see Junko in high spirits, after her odd episode with the painting.

They soon reached a small wooded area, where they met another horseback rider, a handsome youth with short black hair and light green eyes. The stranger turned his attention on Junko, and his face visibly lit up. To Tasuki, the youth, who was only a year older than Tasuki himself, seemed so familiar.

Junko reigned her horse up, and look of horrible recognition passed her features. She blinked rapidly, her eyes widening in fear.

"Hello....." the rider said with a happy smile. "My name is Tomite."

Junko began to scream.

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