"I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars."
~ Og Mandino ~
The book looked a little worse for the wear and was depressingly aware of this.
Since its last excursion, thirteen whole years ago, it had faced difficult times in modern day Tokyo, where focus had shifted quite dramatically to television and video games. No one wanted to read an ancient looking book without pictures and ancient language. Quite frankly, it wouldn't have helped even if it had had funky colours and more contemporary language. The new generation, the book thought, rather like a grumpy old woman, was just so cavalier and shameless. There was no help for it.
Really, there comes a time in one's life when one wishes to be done with all of one's duties. Old leaves die and fall off, and, if they have lived and died meaningfully, new buds grow in their place, assuring existence and rebirth. Sometimes things lived on, in an afterlife. But if they lost all meaning, they would only eventually be forgotten, and then they would truly die. Such was the way of life itself; and the book, powerful and full of wisdom though it was, could do little about it if that was truly what was intended. But one didn't die without a fight, even if one was an old, crabby book. No, there were things to be done yet.
The cellotape muffled its inner voice. The writing was faded. The pages were even beginning to crack. They book was slowing down. This was its last effort.
Summoning all its strength, it pushed itself off its space on the shelf onto the head of the chief librarian at Tokyo's National Library. The man, irritated, picked it up and threw it at a quivering intern whom he liked to bully around, and spent a very satisfying half hour reducing her to tears by comparing the state of the book and her competence. The intern clung to the battered old book as though she felt a strong sense of camraderie and protectiveness towards it. "THROW IT OUT, YOU STUPID COW," concluded the librarian, and walked off smartly, feeling a whole lot better.
But the girl kept the worn down book in her even more battered brown handbag, sniffling through the rest of her day, growing more and more absent-minded in her misery. She missed her bus and a wiry little thief knocked her over and made away with the handbag. The next morning, she was fired for irritating readers with her constant sniffling – a series of instances that led her to a psychotherapist she would later marry.
The librarian, so pleased with his spectacular firing of the young intern, missed his footing and fell down the stairs of the national library and broke his neck.
The thief earned very little from the handbag: a neglected sort of mirror, some make-up and a little money, all of which he pocketed. Deeming everything else useless, it was subsequently dumped outside a middle-school where sixteen years ago, a young woman had whacked her teacher on the head with her desk, at the very beginning of her life's big adventure.
The next morning, the handbag and the book would be discovered, and this would be the beginning of its last big adventure.
But for this night, the book was at peace, safe under the vigilant protection of the watching stars...
Author's Notes: Hello and welcome to 'Return of the Yellow Dragon - Part I', the first installment of Hikari's journey into the Universe of the Four Gods. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it. Over the next few months I will be editing a lot of this story to make it more legible - apologies in advance for any insanity that may ensue.
Also, I have started posting Part II as well on my profile.
Enjoy reading and do drop me a review!
Obligatory Disclaimer And Other Shiznit
This story is based primarily on Yuu Watase's Fushigi Yuugi, but also uses elements from Fushigi Yuugi Genbu Kaiden and some of the Fushigi Yuugi Gaiden books. (Only some elements, though, because of, er, a sort of blatant selective amnesia. So, for instance, Hikari is a girl, which she isn't according to the Sanbou Gaiden.) I will try to stick to manga/anime canon as much as I can. Elements of Chinese and Japanese mythology will probably be employed, also with a blatant disregard for authenticity and mythological autonomy. I apologise in advance - but mostly this fic is supposed to be fun and ... I wouldn't take it seriously. Apologies for stupidity about the Japanese language, but feel free to correct me please - if and when I use stuff like that. Oh, er, and obviously I'm not making any money out of this - I'm just a graduate student with too much time.