Tears

::depict flashbacks::

Tasuki’s POV

This takes place sometime after Miaka and Tamahome are sucked out of the book world. This came to me one night when I was wondering why almost all of the senchi died and how did their deaths effect Tasuki. (Ah, Tasuki angst :cries: L )

Tasuki couldn’t take it anymore. His hands started shaking again and he took another desperate gulp of his sake. If only he could get drunk. Ever since they started out on that damnable boat voyage, everything has had gone wrong.

Nuriko. ::When he had arrived he had found that he was too late. Nuriko’s head lay in Tamahome’s lap and he was quite still. Blood was seeping out of his chest wound, but the male senchi still managed to look beautiful. Even in death. Wait! He’s not dead. What the hell am I thinking? Not Nuriko-chan.

"Is this a joke?" Everyone around me is crying. This isn’t funny. It’s mean to play around with death. Nuriko isn’t dead. Any minuet now he’ll jump up and laugh at me for believing them and then whacking me upside the head for thinking that he, Nuriko of Konan, would ever die.

"He can’t be dead!" My body began to shake violently. They were still crying. And they were looking at me in pity. They can’t be serious. They can’t be! " But I just saw him alive yesterday! He’s not dead, he can’t be!" I tried to reassure myself. Again with less belief, "He can’t be dead."::

It hit me when we buried him, that Nuriko, Chou Ryuuen, was never going to come back to us.

Nuriko’s death started it all. He drained another sake but the alcohol wasn’t getting him anywhere close to where he wanted to be. It took a lot the get the leader of the Mt. Leikaku thieves drunk; unfortunately. Tasuki got up and paid the amount that he owed and stumbled outside.

It was a beautiful night. He stopped and looked heavenward. The moon was out and it seemed to engulf the entire sky with its soft luminosity. The stars had never seemed so bright. Kind of like the night-

:: I loved Chriko. To me, he was a little brother. And too damn smart for a little kid. I went to him and Chichiri whenever I had a problem. It amazed me that one so innocent could be so wise on he matters of life or death.

He wouldn’t let Mitsukake heal him. Chriko was positive that to do so would only insure that bastard Miboshi would escape and hurt more people. And Chriko wouldn’t allow that to happen. It was his responsibility and duty as a one of the Suzaku Seven. He shouldn’t be talking about responsibilities yet. Dammnit! He’s only fucken 13 years old! He’s too young for this! I don’t care if that monk lived or not! Chriko can’t do this!

The silent healer made sure that Chriko was buried in a beautiful spot filled with flowers and willow trees. How anyone so young could be so wise, so self-sacrificing, was beyond Tasuki.::

Mitsukake wasn’t too far behind either. That baka was stubborn. ::The battlefield was littered with the dead. There were so many. So many to heal, so many he had healed. Mitsukake knew that he couldn’t hold out much longer. He was near dead himself from exhausting his powers to such an extreme. Then he came across the baby. Its cries were choked from the blood that began to drip from its mouth. Mitsukake’s heart lurched in his chest. He had already healed so many. He should’ve stopped. But Mitsukake had too big a heart. He gave the last of his energy to the dying infant, the rest of his life, so it could live on. Tasuki remembered Chichiri’s tears when he found them together. Mitsukake dead still cradling the crying baby in his arms protectively. Myo Jyuan had finally joined his wife.::

Tasuki continued to walk without thinking about where he was going. The once beautiful country of Konan lay before him, now destroyed and repulsive. He wanted to leave. He wanted to go. This land was poisoned. ::Konan had suffered its greatest loss ever. Hotohori was added to he list of those lost. The young emperor left behind a wife and son, both grieving, but at that time, Tasuki had run out of tears.::

The loneliness was starting to be too much. Tasuki kept walking down the road. He wanted to get lost so that way he could just disappear. Like what Tamahome and Miaka did. Tasuki felt a pang of jealousy, which immediately turned into strong guilt. They deserve to live in Mika’s world. I can’t have any more friends of mine suffer more than they already have.

The walk was starting to grow tiring. He would stumble along the side of the road, keeping out of the way of wagons that were nowhere in sight.

The sun is up already. Just a few hours ago it was so dark. Now it’s so bright. Like fire in the sky. Tasuki was tired. He collapsed into a ball on the side of the road. I can’t take it anymore. Six friends, gone. Chichi and I aren't the only ones left… We are the only ones left alive.

Not that I’m saying I am alive anymore. I’m just a shell, when they died, part of me died with them.

Tasuki is no more, either. The Seiryuu made sure of that when they stripped us of our powers. When Miaka left us. Tasuki died when Yui made her wish.

Genrou died as the people around him suffered.

Shunu died when he learned that he couldn’t do anything to save them.

I am alone. The red head sunk into his hands. I am defeated. I should’ve given up a long time ago.

Tasuki started to cry hard. Just as hard as he cried when Nuriko, Chirko, Hotohori, and Mitukake left him. Just like when he cried alone after waking up from a drunken stupor and realized that things would never bet better and he would never be the same. Just like when he cried about giving up everything and wished that he could just sleep along side them. Just like when he cried when he remembered the obligation he had to keep living when it was so hard.

Warm arms snaked around the bandit. Tasuki wrapped his arms around Chichiri and buried his head in the familiar feeling of the older monks kesa. Chichiri is here. He’s real. I’m not alone, not yet.

"It’s okay to cry Tasuki, da." The older man rocked him back and forward slowly. "It’s okay to cry." And Tasuki did just that.