Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ The Universe of the Four Gods ❯ A death threat ( Chapter 24 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: MaskedSorrow 
Tasuke, Chichiri, and Nakago cross paths...
Anime/Manga: Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 09.04.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 593 | Visits: 198 | Status: Completed
Tasuke, Chichiri, and Nakago cross paths...
Anime/Manga: Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 09.04.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 593 | Visits: 198 | Status: Completed
“Miaka and Tamahome, come with me,” Nuriko says in a no-nonsense voice, tugging on Miaka’s sleeve gently to get her going.
“Not yet, ya know,” Chichiri calls sharply, halting Nuriko in the act of drawing Miaka and Tamahome away with him. Nuriko tosses Chichiri a glare, but the young wizard simply shakes his head. “Wait until they fire again, ya know.” Grudgingly, Nuriko nods, keeping Miaka within arms reach. And, indeed, Miaka seems inclined to stay within arms reach; she hardly strays from Nuriko’s side, despite the fact Tamahome sticks to her like glue.
Chichiri stares pointedly at Tasuke, and after a moment he turns his gaze on the young wizard. The look Chichiri gives him tells Tasuke the young wizard knows what happened earlier, when Tasuke had become delusional. Sucking in a deep breath, Tasuke flexes his hand holding the fan, rolling up onto the balls of his feet.
Abruptly, a final rain of arrows streaks from the nearby trees, and the group leaps into motion. Mitsukake seems to fold over onto Chiriko, before turning and disappearing into a clump of foliage with him. Nuriko bodily turns Tamahome and shoves him into the clearing of trees, keeping Miaka close in his embrace and making sure he is between her and attackers. Soon, with Nuriko taut as a drawn bow, they, too, disappear.
Tasuke and Chichiri are the last to disperse, deflecting the arrows that had been fired. The last one falls meekly to the ground, and just as Tasuke turns to dash after Chichiri, a loud roar from the clearing catches him off guard, causing him to stumble and lose his footing.
“What the-?” Tasuke cuts off with a grimace as a small regime of Kouto warriors pours into the clearing, quickly surrounding him and the fleeing Chichiri, who had halted his sprint as soon as the bellow was heard. Arms going rigid at his side, Tasuke crouches down in an offensive position, gaze fixed on the spear points glistening in the early morning sun. Chichiri stands up straight with his staff held vertically in front of him.
“Chichiri,” he calls urgently, and from the corner of his eye he sees the young wizard nod slowly. The soldiers around them shift uncertainly, metal rattling as it grates together. Tasuke bares his teeth at the men, eyes squinting in rage.
Abruptly, Chichiri raises a palm vertically to his face, and a red bubble flickers into being around them. The entire regime jerks back as one, surprised as the figures of the two men slowly dissipate in the scarlet glare.
The group slowly parts, and General Nakago steps forward, blonde hair cascading down his shoulders to caress the dragon claw shoulder pads ringing his chest.
His gaze locks on Tasuke, and Tasuke fights the urge to leap out and take the man head on as a malevolent grin spreads across the general’s face. Tasuke’s knuckles turn white as he grips his fan, visibly shaking with restraint.
“You better watch your back, Nakago,” Tasuke calls as his being is slowly swallowed by a red fog. The look on Nakago’s face welcomes the challenge, just as the red sphere dissipates with a blinding flash. The regime shrinks back as roaches do before a light, but Nakago keeps his position, lounging with his hand resting on his sword hilt.
“You watch yours, Tasuke,” Nakago muses aloud in a monotone voice.
“Not yet, ya know,” Chichiri calls sharply, halting Nuriko in the act of drawing Miaka and Tamahome away with him. Nuriko tosses Chichiri a glare, but the young wizard simply shakes his head. “Wait until they fire again, ya know.” Grudgingly, Nuriko nods, keeping Miaka within arms reach. And, indeed, Miaka seems inclined to stay within arms reach; she hardly strays from Nuriko’s side, despite the fact Tamahome sticks to her like glue.
Chichiri stares pointedly at Tasuke, and after a moment he turns his gaze on the young wizard. The look Chichiri gives him tells Tasuke the young wizard knows what happened earlier, when Tasuke had become delusional. Sucking in a deep breath, Tasuke flexes his hand holding the fan, rolling up onto the balls of his feet.
Abruptly, a final rain of arrows streaks from the nearby trees, and the group leaps into motion. Mitsukake seems to fold over onto Chiriko, before turning and disappearing into a clump of foliage with him. Nuriko bodily turns Tamahome and shoves him into the clearing of trees, keeping Miaka close in his embrace and making sure he is between her and attackers. Soon, with Nuriko taut as a drawn bow, they, too, disappear.
Tasuke and Chichiri are the last to disperse, deflecting the arrows that had been fired. The last one falls meekly to the ground, and just as Tasuke turns to dash after Chichiri, a loud roar from the clearing catches him off guard, causing him to stumble and lose his footing.
“What the-?” Tasuke cuts off with a grimace as a small regime of Kouto warriors pours into the clearing, quickly surrounding him and the fleeing Chichiri, who had halted his sprint as soon as the bellow was heard. Arms going rigid at his side, Tasuke crouches down in an offensive position, gaze fixed on the spear points glistening in the early morning sun. Chichiri stands up straight with his staff held vertically in front of him.
“Chichiri,” he calls urgently, and from the corner of his eye he sees the young wizard nod slowly. The soldiers around them shift uncertainly, metal rattling as it grates together. Tasuke bares his teeth at the men, eyes squinting in rage.
Abruptly, Chichiri raises a palm vertically to his face, and a red bubble flickers into being around them. The entire regime jerks back as one, surprised as the figures of the two men slowly dissipate in the scarlet glare.
The group slowly parts, and General Nakago steps forward, blonde hair cascading down his shoulders to caress the dragon claw shoulder pads ringing his chest.
His gaze locks on Tasuke, and Tasuke fights the urge to leap out and take the man head on as a malevolent grin spreads across the general’s face. Tasuke’s knuckles turn white as he grips his fan, visibly shaking with restraint.
“You better watch your back, Nakago,” Tasuke calls as his being is slowly swallowed by a red fog. The look on Nakago’s face welcomes the challenge, just as the red sphere dissipates with a blinding flash. The regime shrinks back as roaches do before a light, but Nakago keeps his position, lounging with his hand resting on his sword hilt.
“You watch yours, Tasuke,” Nakago muses aloud in a monotone voice.