Kinnichi wa! I'm Ongaku and here is a collection of short stories from me to you. They are all going to be Miaka/Nuriko based though. So sorry to any other kind of fans!

P.S. This was just going to have two short stories, but I changed my mind. You might have already read the first two storiesbefore when it was called Random Works.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fushigi Yuugi. Nuf Said.

Title: Tortured, Tangled Hearts

Rated: PG-13

Genre: Romance

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He wasn't supposed to be feeling like this. This burning desire to want to touch her, to want to hold her close. It was all wrong, he never liked women, why desire one now? Why desire her? He stared into her eyes as they filled with tears. He had hurt her once again, the man she was in love with. The man she was in love with, that wasn't him. He was angered at the thought of anyone hurting her, even if it was his own friend.

She wrapped her arms around his torso crying her eyes out into his chest. He held her close, rubbing his hands gently up and down her back to try and calm her down. She felt so warm and so right in his arms. If only. If only he could take away all her pain. If only he could tell her how much he loved her.

But that would never happen. He could never tell her that. It would only confuse and sadden her more. He didn't want to do that to her. He wanted to protect her; he wanted her to be happy. So he would hide his feelings for her, to protect her.

"Nur...iko?"

Nuriko look down at Miaka when she called his name.

"I'm sorry." She hiccupped, "I'm sorry to always bother you with this."

Nuriko lifted her head up so he could look her directly in the eyes. "Miaka, I am you're friend. You can always depend on me when you need a shoulder to cry on." He smiled at her sadly.

"Thank you Nuriko." She whispered softly, not tearing her eyes away from his.

Nuriko was lost as she continued to look at him straight in the eyes. He was worried that she would be able to tell. Tell how much he loved her, just by looking into his eyes. Instinctively he brought his hand up to her face and wiped her tears away, but even after he did so, his hand did not move from her face. He gently brushed his fingertips on her soft, pink cheeks, bringing them down closer to her lips. He didn't even realize what he was doing, as his fingers traced the outline of her lips. They felt so soft, and he began to wonder what it would feel like to kiss her.

Then all of a sudden he felt a warm hand gently touch his left cheek. Miaka was gently caressing his cheek in the palm of her hand. He was surprised at first but it faded quickly. What was going on? What were they doing?

Miaka removed her hand and pulled up closer to him, pulling him in a tight embrace. She wasn't crying this time, just holding him, or letting him hold her. He wrapped his arms around her trying to bring her even closer.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there, holding Miaka, but something soft and wet brought him back to his senses. Miaka was gently placing kisses on his neck, and he froze. This wasn't supposed to happen. She didn't know what she was doing; she was just upset, wanting someone to be with her at the moment. But, she didn't love him she loved Tamahome.

"Miaka." Nuriko said in an emotionless tone as he loosened his hold and push her away a bit.

Miaka's eyes went wide in terror. "Oh! OH my God Nuriko! I'm so sorry! I. I don't know what came over me!" Tears began to stream down her cheeks once again as she went into hysterics at what she had done. "I'm so sick! Crying over Tamahome, then doing that to you. I'm so embarrassed! I feel like a tramp. Maybe I am a tramp!"

"No!" Nuriko yelled.

Miaka was stunned to silence.

"You are not a tramp Miaka. I understand completely. You don't need to worry about it." It hurt him a lot to say that, because in a way he wanted her to worry about it. He wanted her to... he wanted her. And with that last thought he grabbed Miaka, pulling her close to him again and placed his lips on hers.

She was stiff at first, but it didn't take long before she gave in. Their kiss was wild and passionate, as if they needed it to continue living. Neither of them wanted to stop, they wanted it to last forever. The moment that felt so right, no matter how wrong it seemed. It was their moment, and that is all that really mattered. What ever happens after is something they will only worry about later.

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This is probably going to be one of my favorites... out of my collection of short stories of course.