Warning: This chapter is, in an of itself, a deathfic. If you're depressed, (or listening to Mizu Kagami while you read) I suggest waiting for a later date.

Chapter 6
 

He was staring at the clock again.

Houjun cursed and tore his eyes from the glowing red digits, forcing himself to concentrate on the psychology textbook he was trying to read.

He'd read less than a sentence before his eyes drifted to the clock once more. :11:28. Dammit, Genrou, where are you? You've never been this late before. If you don't hurry, you're going to miss roll call…: Giving up on the text, he slammed the book shut and leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave of the migraine he could feel starting.

:Did I scare you that badly? Dammit, what on earth was I thinking? Kissing him like that. No wonder he hasn't been back to the room all day. He probably couldn't stand to look at me. He'll come crashing in here at the last second, like I did last night, and…:

There was a muffled thump outside the door, and a low cry. Glancing at the clock, Houjun saw that another minute had ticked by. :Cutting it damn close, Genrou… why isn't he opening the door?:

He crossed the room with swift strides, and opened the door cautiously, uncertain what he would find on the other side. The huddled, bloody, naked form slumped against the hall wall was NOT what he'd been expecting, however, and with a sharp cry he flung the door open the rest of the way. "Genrou? What happened?"

A tiny moan was his only answer, as he knelt swiftly before his roommate. If not for the bright, nearly orange hair, he wouldn't have recognized the younger boy. His front was covered in thin red lines, most of which were bleeding freely. His face was swollen from repeated blows, and there were burn marks over much of his visible body. His beautiful, waist-length hair had been sheared off at his neck, leaving ragged wisps clinging to his bloody cheeks. The stunning amber eyes held no sense in them, only pain and suffering.

Houjun bit his lip fiercely to keep from bursting into tears. Murmuring soft reassurances, he managed to get his arms around the other boy, and lifted him carefully. Staggering a bit under his more than substantial weight, he carried him to his bed, allowing the door to swing shut behind him.

Placing him gently down on the sheets, Houjun winced in sympathy as Genrou cried out harshly, his voice mostly gone from screaming. Thankfully, his back didn't seem nearly as injured as his front, so it wasn't as painful for him as it might have been.

Houjun cursed loudly and inventively as he heard Mamoru call for the boys to line up, using several phrases he'd picked up from Genrou himself. Poking his head out the door, careful to let no one see inside, he called out to the floor monitor. "Ueda-san? I think you need to see this."

Curious, Mamoru left off checking names to approach his door. "Houjun, anyone else would be in trouble for not being in the hallway, but I know you don't disobey the rules without good reason. Where's Kou-san?"

Wordlessly, Houjun cracked the door a little wider, letting the other teen into the room. Mamoru gave a short, low whistle as he saw the broken and bleeding form on the bed. Slanting a sympathetic look at Houjun, he exclaimed, "Holy Mary, mother of Christ, and all the saints besides. Kaen and Chuin get a hold of him?"

Houjun nodded. "Looks that way. Ryo's had his eye on him for awhile now, but they'd held off making their move so long, I was beginning to think they'd lost interest."

Mamoru shuddered a little. "Not those two. They NEVER lose interest, until their toy is broken." With a sigh, he turned to leave. "I'll tell the nurse, but it probably won't do much good. I don't think I've ever seen them break someone so thoroughly."

Houjun nodded, and Mamoru paused just before opening the door. "And, Houjun? Just this once, I won't notice if your light is on after lights-out, okay?"

"Thanks, Ueda-san," Houjun cracked a small smile at the other boy, probably the closest thing he had to a friend at this damn school. :Until Genrou came,: some small part of his mind added.

Turning, he dragged a desk chair up beside the bed and waited for the nurse to come, stroking Genrou's forehead and murmuring quiet reassurances that he knew wouldn't be heard.
 
 

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//He was lost, utterly lost, caught up in a dizzying spiral of agony and shame. Trapped within his own mind, he struggled uselessly to escape the pain and horror of what had happened to him. Dimly, for a moment, he thought he heard the voice of his soul mate, calling his name, but he was swept away again before he could even try to respond.

There was no thought, only instinct. There was no reason, only emotion. He could not act, only react, and he was slowly losing his grasp on his sanity.

There was a harsh cry, and he felt his essence being enfolded in comforting warmth. He had a brief impression of fire and feathers swirling together, before his world turned red and the agony and shame retreated, beaten into submission by the powerful entity that cradled him like a lost and hurt child.

**TASUKI** He nearly screamed as the voice reverberated inside his skull, crashing against his mind with the force of a tidal wave. It was the sound of a thousand fires crackling, the roar of heat deep within a volcano. It held the baking heat of the desert sun, and was overshadowed by the cry of a strange bird. **MY TASUKI. HOW MUCH YOU HAVE SUFFERED.**

"Suzaku…" he gasped, the name of his saviour surfacing from deep in his own mind. Suddenly that voice was a comfort, not a torture, and he huddled into the god's embrace, shivering.

**TASUKI. THE TIME IS COMING SOON, WHEN YOU MUST BE READY TO FACE A NEW ENEMY. BE STRONG, MY WARRIOR. YOU WILL NOT BE ALONE.**

"Help me…" he whispered brokenly, as those warm, strong arms released him into the void once more. "Don't leave me… Suzaku!"//
 
 

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The school nurse bound Genrou's injuries with a somber look on her face, clucking her tongue and shaking her head all the while. Houjun paced back and forth nervously, hands clenched in his pockets to keep from lashing out in frustration at the nearest inanimate object. When she was finished, she handed him a packet of strong painkillers, and a large container of cool water. "Some of those are going to get infected," she said curtly. "I've given him an antibiotic shot, but I don't think it's going to do much. He'll have a high fever for a while, and he'll likely hallucinate. If he wakes up, and fights to live, I think he'll make it. If not…" she trailed off and shrugged wearily, then turned to leave.

Houjun felt an overwhelming rage that she should care so little, but fought it down instantly. This woman wasn't the cause of Genrou's suffering, and if she was jaded about his injuries, well - she'd seen every injury at this school, and Genrou probably wasn't the first person she hadn't been able to help. He needed a hospital, but Houjun knew the chances of the administration allowing Genrou out of the building were slim to none. If he was taken to a hospital, his injuries would have to be explained, and his parents would likely kick up a fuss.

He sank into the chair beside the bed, and wiped the sweat from Genrou's forehead with a cloth dampened in the cool water. Already the fever was taking hold, and his roommate was mumbling incoherently to himself. His eyes were open but unseeing, darting wildly from side to side while his body trembled in terror.

Houjun had seen the full extent of Genrou's injuries when the nurse had cleaned them, and he had a fair idea of what had been done to the younger boy. Fists clenched in rage, he promised himself he would have a long chat with Kaen and Chuin before this was all over.

Genrou screamed suddenly, and clutched at his head as if some loud noise had hurt his ears. Eyes wide, Houjun grabbed at his hands, holding tightly while he twisted about on the bed. Abruptly he went limp, collapsing back onto the bed, staring straight ahead with an expression of awe on his face.

"Suzaku…" he gasped, and Houjun went rigid.

That name - that damned name! The name of an obscure god from a forgotten Chinese legend, that he'd happened across once, long ago, in his research. It had haunted him ever since, cropping up when he least expected it, until it possessed him with a near obsession. But why on earth was Genrou crying out to Suzaku?
 
 

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//Tasuki gasped and panted for air, feeling as if all the oxygen in the room had been sucked out, though the window was wide open to the fresh spring-time air. Only a single, thin blanket covered his trembling form, but he was certain lead weights had been sewn into the seams, bearing down on his fragile body with a terrible pressure. He wanted to shove the thing off of him, but he knew he'd only end up shivering from a non-existent cold if he did. Besides, he just didn't have the strength to move.

Outside, he could hear birds chirping merrily, and the warmth of a sunbeam fell on the blanket by his hand, but the cheerfulness of spring was lost on the bandit leader. His breathing harsh, he struggled desperately to cling to life, fighting the poison that rushed through his veins.

The door to the room burst open to reveal his long-time friend and lover, fellow Suzaku Shichiseishi Chichiri, standing disheveled and out of breath, as if he had run all the way up the mountain to the Leikaku bandit's holdings. Indeed, it appeared as if that was exactly what he had done, as he rushed forward to collapse to his knees by Tasuki's side. Taking one thin, pale hand in his own, he brought it to rest against the side of his face.

"Tasuki!" he cried softly, his voice pained to see his strong lover so weak and trembling. "What happened to you? I came as soon as I heard…"

"Poison," Tasuki croaked, his voice harsh and breathy. "Chichiri…"

"HOW?" Chichiri demanded, his good eye blazing with fury. "Who would dare to poison you?"

"Somebody poisoned a load of food that was sent up from one of the villages," Kouji remarked, leaning against the doorway. "We don't think it was actually someone IN the village - they're loyal to us, to a man. No, someone caught the shipment on its way up here. Luckily, only three people ate the food before we realized there was something wrong."

"The other two?" Chichiri asked without moving his eye from Tasuki's face.

"Only Genrou is still alive," Kouji replied, his voice saddened. "And the only reason he made it this long, is 'cause he's been waitin' for you. You got here just in time, Chichiri."

"I… woulda waited for ya… forever, Chiri…" Tasuki gasped, squeezing feebly at his lover's hand. Chichiri returned the grip, tears forming, blurring his chocolate gaze. "But… I'm glad ya got here… already… Was afraid I'd pull a… Shouka and Mitsukake on ya…" He coughed, blood spattering his lips, unable to continue.

Chichiri smoothed his fiery hair from his face with his free hand, murmuring gently, "Just rest, Tasuki. I'm here now, and I'll never leave you again. I swear it."//
 
 

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Houjun sat by Genrou's side throughout all of that long night, never once moving except to re-dampen his cloth, as the fever ate away at his roommate's body. Though Genrou's body was covered in sweat, it didn't appear to be having any effect other than to make him dehydrated. Periodically, Houjun would dip his hand into the water and let the drops trail from his fingers into Genrou's mouth, easing the parched dryness of his throat.

Genrou babbled endlessly, but it took a long time for Houjun to realize that there was sense in his words. He seemed to be speaking in an ancient dialect of Chinese, a fact which confused the older boy no end. Painstakingly, he puzzled out the words from his limited knowledge of the language.

:Poison. Did Kaen and Chuin poison him? It's possible. I wouldn't put it past them. I can't leave now, but tomorrow I'll beat the antidote out of them… just hang on, Genrou. You have to hang on that long.: He soothed Genrou's forehead with the damp cloth again.

"Chichiri…" Genrou gasped, clutching at Houjun's hand like a lifeline. Frowning, Houjun wondered why that word - it sounded like a name - sent shivers up and down his spine. "Chichiri… don't leave me!"

"I'm right here," Houjun whispered, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I won't leave you, Tasuki."

Then he frowned as he realized what he'd just said. 'Tasuki' was the name of the phantom lover who had haunted his dreams since he'd hit puberty. His dreams were always shrouded in shadow, and he never caught more than a glimpse of the other's face. For years, he'd puzzled over who his mysterious dream lover could be - until the day he had first met Kou Genrou, and then he knew.

He'd stood in the doorway that day and watched Genrou move around the room, oblivious to his presence, for several moments. He'd felt as if a ton of bricks had come crashing down onto him, stunning him into inaction, as all the breath left his body and his groin tightened painfully. His hair was too long, his face far too young, but it was unmistakably the face of his unknown fantasy.

After the deaths of his best friend and fiancée, and his three-year stint in prison, Houjun had given up on ever finding someone to love. Certainly, he didn't believe in such silliness as love at first sight. But the moment he first laid eyes on Genrou, he'd felt as if his whole life had been merely waiting for this boy to come to him.

:You're a fool, Houjun,: he berated himself, even as he continued to whisper gently to Genrou. :An utter, utter fool, to fall for this boy. He's a child. An innocent. What on earth would he want with you?:

Unbidden, his gaze trailed down the sheets, over the outline of Genrou's battered body. :Not such an innocent any more - given his injuries, I have little doubt that Chuin took him, forcefully. Bastard.: He was startled by the depth of the rage that he felt - not since that terrible day when Hikou had died, had he felt this way. Gulping, he forced it down. :No. I will not let my temper get the best of me again - not even for this. I'll beat the hell out of Chuin, but I won't kill him.:

Genrou cried out again, his body arching off the bed in pain. Houjun held his hand and hushed him gently. Desperately searching for something to calm him, he began to sing a soft melody that he vaguely remember his mother singing to him, after he'd had nightmares as a child.

"Aoi sora ni wa, aoi jiyuu ga aru. Shiroi kumo ni wa, shiroi nozomi ga aru…"
 
 

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//Tasuki drifted back to consciousness, to hear Chichiri's soft tenor singing a folk song from Miaka's world. The Miko had taught them the song during one of their long days of travel on the ship to Hokkan-koku. It was a duet, and the range had been perfectly suited to Chichiri and Tasuki's voices. They had sung it together often in the intervening years, to remind themselves of all that they had been through together, until it became 'their' song, something that symbolized the unbreakable bond between them.

It felt strange to hear Chichiri's voice carrying both lines, but Tasuki didn't want to ruin the gentle melody by trying to croak out his part. Instead he just listened, basking in the warmth and love radiating from his friend.

As Chichiri came to the end of the song, his voice became rougher, until it finally broke on the last line. A single drop of salty wetness splashed against Tasuki's hand, then another, and another. Startled, he opened his eyes to see Chichiri weeping openly, hunched over his lover's hand, shoulders shaking.

"Chichiri…" Tasuki reached up with his free hand to rub his thumb along the monk's cheekbone, wiping the dampness away. "Chichiri, don't cry. Please. Ya know I can't stand to see your tears."

Chichiri gulped hastily, scrubbing at his face with one hand. "T-tasuki - I didn't know you were awake. I'm sorry…"

"Hush. Don't be sorry," Tasuki whispered. "You know I love you, and I always will. Even death can't separate us - you told me that once, remember?"

Chichiri nodded. "I remember. And I still believe it. We're soul mates, Tasuki - meant to be together. Like Tamahome and Miaka, Tatara and Suzuno."

"Then don't cry," Tasuki replied. "The others have all gone ahead already - they're waiting for us in the next life, I'm sure." He sighed. "It'll be good to see Nuriko and Hotohori and the rest of 'em again. I miss 'em."

"I miss them too," Chichiri agreed. "And I'm sure you're right - they're waiting for us to be reborn with them."

"Ne, Chichiri?" Tasuki felt his strength fading rapidly, and struggled to keep from falling asleep again.

"Hai, Tasuki?"

"We'll be together, in the next life, right? I don't wanna lose you…"

Chichiri caressed his face gently. "You won't lose me, Tasuki. I'll be with you, no matter what. If I have to tear the world apart to find you, I will."

"Demo…" Tasuki coughed harshly. "Demo, we won't remember, will we?"

"We'll remember. Soul mates will always recognize each other. We might not know why, or remember the details - but we WILL find one another again. I promise you."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Sleep, Tasuki. Conserve your strength. I'll be here when you wake up."//
 
 

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When his alarm clock went off, it startled Houjun into jumping nearly a foot into the air. Swearing, afraid the noise would waken Genrou from the semi-peaceful sleep he'd finally managed to fall into, he slapped the off switch. Genrou moaned and stirred, but didn't waken, and Houjun slumped into his chair thankfully.

:Should have known better than to think that would wake him up,: he thought, a little of his normal humour returning now that Genrou had survived the night. :It never has before. I've never met such a sound sleeper!:

Reluctantly, not wanting to leave his roommate's side, but knowing he'd be in worse trouble if he missed classes, Houjun packed his books into his bag. Checking one last time to be certain that there was water by his side, in case he should wake up and be thirsty, and that the blanket was securely tucked in, he shut the lights off and quietly closed the door behind him.

On the way to breakfast, he ran into Mamoru. "How is he, Houjun?" the hall monitor asked, a genuinely concerned look on his face.

"No better, but no worse," Houjun replied. "He's got a fever, and the nurse didn't seem hopeful, but I think he's going to be okay." He smiled wryly. "He's a tough son-of-a-bitch, I don't think he's going to let himself be beaten so easily."

"Well, the nurse has arranged with the sensei for him to miss class until he can walk," Mamoru said. Slapping the older boy on the back, he said, "Try not to hurt Chuin and Kaen too much, please? I know you're not afraid of them, but they'll take their anger out on the rest of the school, and we'll just end up with someone else in the same shape as Kou-san."

Houjun nodded thoughtfully, and waved his thanks as they separated to go to their friends' tables.

As he approached the little knot at the center of the caf which made up Genrou's friends, he marveled at the fact that he had begun to think of them as his friends, as well. Genrou had slowly but surely drawn him out of his shell, until he actually found himself choosing to be with them sometimes, rather than stay in his room and study. They waved him over enthusiastically.

"Gen-chan sleeping in late again?" Kouji asked with a smirk on his face. "Hope he doesn't miss breakfast again - ne, Houjun, what's wrong?"

Houjun's face had clouded over at the mention of Genrou. "He's not coming to breakfast," he muttered shortly. "And he won't be in class, either."

Naisu gave him a sharp look. "Haku and Ryo?" Houjun nodded. Min and Kenji both paled.

"Oh, shit," murmured Kenji. "How bad?"

Kouji looked from one to another. "What? Those bitches? What'd they do to him?"

Houjun picked at his food, not really hungry but knowing he would need the strength. "I'll spare you the gory details. Suffice it to say, he's hurt, and bad. The school nurse got him excused for the next while."

"How long, do you think?" Naisu asked.

"Probably a week before he can stand again, at the very least," Houjun replied.

Kouji exploded. "WHAT THE HELL?" he bounced to his feet and glared wildly around the cafeteria. "WHERE ARE THEY? Those bitches, I'll kill them!" Min and Naisu, seated on either side of him, grabbed his arms and hauled him back to his seat, hushing him quickly.

"Don't attract their attention, for god's sake, Kouji!" Naisu chided him. "There's nothing you can do, that won't end up with you in worse shape than he is!"

"Houjun, you're not going to do anything rash, are you?" Min wondered, eying the older boy's black expression nervously.

Houjun sighed and tried for a reassuring smile. "No, I'm not. I WAS going to beat the shit out of them, but Mamoru pointed out that they would just take it out on some other poor kid. I AM going to corner them, though - Genrou's feverish and delirious, but he keeps mentioning a poison of some sort. They may have drugged him with something, and I want to know what."

Kouji's face was nearly purple with rage, but he was forcibly kept silent by Naisu's hand clamped over his mouth. "He is going to make it though?" Naisu asked.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure he'll pull through. What state his mind will be in when he wakes up, is another story. They were torturing him, and knowing them, they didn't stop until they were certain they'd broken him."

Kouji stood abruptly, and waved off Naisu and Min's attempts to haul him back down again. "No, I'm not going after them. I'm going to class. And after class, I'm going to see Genrou. And after THAT…" there was a murderous look in his eyes. "Well, we'll see what happens after that."
 
 

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//Tasuki forced his eyes open past the twenty-ton weights that seemed to be sitting on them, to find his room shrouded in darkness. Even in the dim light, however, he was certain that the bulky form sitting beside his bed was NOT Chichiri.

"Chiri…" he croaked, only to be hushed by a thin finger across his lips.

"Shhh," Kouji murmured, then jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "He's asleep."

With great effort, Tasuki turned his head to see Chichiri's unmistakable form crumpled up on a cot which had apparently been brought into the room for that purpose. "He hasn't left your side for nearly three days now," Kouji continued softly. "I finally forced him to eat something and get some rest. He's not helping you any, killing himself like that."

Tasuki nodded weakly. "Kouji… I'm sorry," he whispered, unable to raise his voice any further.

The other bandit seemed startled. "Sorry? For what?"

"Fer… leavin' ya," Tasuki continued miserably. "I never meant ta hurt ya, buddy…"

Kouji chuckled softly, and brushed Tasuki's hair from his face, much as Chichiri had earlier. "Genrou, Genrou - we've been over this, remember? Sure, I was pissed off at first. I didn't understand why you couldn't come back and just be Genrou, bandit leader, my best friend and lover, like it all was before. Do you remember what you told me then?"

Tasuki nodded. "That - that I couldn't go back to who I was, 'cause if I did, it would make everything everyone had sacrificed for nothing."

"You were right, buddy. I realized that a long time ago, and got over bein' hurt about you leavin' me just as long ago. Besides, once I saw the way you and Chichiri were together - well, I'm no fool, though I may act like it sometimes. You two were meant to be together, anyone can see that."

"It's not… that I love ya any less, buddy…" Tasuki said, tears forming in his eyes.

Kouji leaned down, and kissed him gently. "I know," he said, pulling away, tears shining in his own eyes. "I know, Gen-chan. And I won't ever stop lovin' you, either. You're my best friend and my aniki, and that'll never change."

"I'll see you… in the next life, too…" Tasuki managed, as sleep took hold of him once more. "I promise… I won't forget ya…"

"I'll never forget you either, Genrou. Hell, SOMEbody's gotta keep your head from getting' too swollen!"

Chuckling, Tasuki gave up the fight and slid into unconsciousness.//
 
 

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Houjun didn't end up confronting Kaen and Chuin after all, too anxious was he to get back to Genrou's side. He didn't want him to wake up alone, for he'd certainly be confused and probably frightened. As quick as he was to get back from his classes, Kouji was still waiting impatiently outside his door.

He unlocked the door and strode swiftly to Genrou's side, leaning over to check his temperature, as Kouji stood in the doorway, gaping. The fever had subsided a little, but still ate at his strength, and the flame-haired youth's dreams were clearly uneasy. He moaned and muttered, and shifted restlessly, crying out each time the sheet rubbed against one of his wounds.

"What… the hell… did they DO to him?" Kouji whispered harshly, keeping his voice down to avoid waking his friend.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Houjun replied, just as softly. "Whipped him and burned him, certainly. From the marks on his wrists, I'd say he was probably left hanging by his arms. And… they raped him. I'm sorry."

"SORRY?" Kouji shouted, then winced when Genrou stirred on the bed. They both watched until he'd gone back to sleep, before Kouji continued in a whisper. "You're sorry? They fucking tortured him, Houjun! What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"Comfort him," Houjun replied shortly. "Reassure him that it wasn't his fault. That whatever they did to him, we're not going to stop being his friends because of it."

Kouji gave him a sharp look. "You've known someone who's been raped before, haven't you?"

Houjun nodded, but said nothing more. Kouji sighed and shook his head. "Genrou's a tough bastard. He'll get through this. I… hey! How the hell did they rape him? They're both girls!"

Houjun snorted. "There are plenty of ways, especially given their sadistic tendencies - but I suspect they did it directly. Chuin's not a woman, Kouji."

Kouji gaped at him like a fish out of water. "Not.. not a girl? Ya mean… she's a HE?" At Houjun's nod, he blinked several times. "Holy… holy shit. And… and he… did THAT… to Gen-chan?" With a sick-sounding chuckle, he half-collapsed into one of the desk chairs. "Oh, Genrou… gods, what's this gonna do to ya?"

Houjun grimaced. "If he wasn't homophobic before this, he probably will be now… what?" he asked, as Kouji laughed abruptly.

"Ya've been rooming with him for nearly four months, and ya ain't figured it out yet? Gen-chan's as gay as they come, Houjun. He ain't never even looked twice at a girl."

Now it was Houjun's turn to blink in surprise. "He - what? Really?" :Then why did he looked so shocked when I kissed him - wait, wait. He looked shocked, but not disgusted… and… he… he kissed me back…: Houjun was stunned.

"Yeah. He'll prolly kill me for telling ya, but…" Kouji shrugged. "Ya don't strike me as the gay-bashing type."

"I'm not," he murmured absently, still turning this new piece of information over in his mind. A glance at the battered body on the bed hardened his resolve. :I'm going to get you through this, Genrou,: he promised himself. :In one piece, emotionally and mentally. And maybe then, I'll find out if you really are my dream lover.:
 
 

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//"Why's it so dark in here?" Tasuki whispered, groping unseeingly towards where he knew Chichiri's hand would be.

Chichiri took his hand gently, glancing sideways at the bright spring sunlight shining through the window. "It's night, Tasuki," he lied, not wanting to worry his friend. A single glance showed that Tasuki was nearing the end of his ability to fight the poison - he'd lost weight badly, his bones showing through prominently under translucent skin, his eyes faded and unfocused, his breath harsh and rasping.

Tasuki chuckled, sounding pained. "Yer a lousy liar, Chiri," he said, smiling slightly. "I can feel the sun on me, I just can't see it. I can't hang on much longer…"

Tears welled up in Chichiri's warm brown eye, but he kept his voice steady and firm. "Tasuki - I don't understand why my magic hasn't been able to help you. If only Mitsukake were here!"

"If Mits could do anything against poisons and drugs, he woulda been able to help Tamahome when Nakago took over his mind," Tasuki replied. "Don't worry about it, Chichiri. I'm just glad I got to spend a few last days with ya."

Chichiri tightened his grip on the fragile hand, not caring that he was bruising it badly. "I don't want to live without you," He whispered hoarsely.

"I'll be with ya," Tasuki replied, his voice fading rapidly. "We'll be together in the next life… you… promised…"

"Hai. I promised."

"Chichiri… wo… ai… ni…" Tasuki gasped once more, then stilled.

"Tasuki. Tasuki! TASUKI!" Chichiri lost his battle with his sobs, collapsing onto the silent form on the bed. "TASUKI! I love you. Tasuki!"

In the doorway, Kouji nodded once, his face streaked with his own tears, and turned away, closing the door softly behind him. Chichiri deserved the right to grieve in private.

Still sobbing, Chichiri fumbled at his waist, drawing the small, sharp ritual knife he used to cut magic herbs with. "Tasuki," he whispered, "Matte yo. We'll go to the next life together, koi." With a deep breath, he drew the sacred blade across his wrists, his life's blood pouring out to stain the white sheets crimson. "Ai shiteru, Tasuki."//
 
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