Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ The Universe of the Four Gods ❯ Ambush ( Chapter 23 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: MaskedSorrow 
Tasuke wakes from his troubling vision, to the group's relief. No sooner do they start off again, then a rain of arrows hails down on them...
Anime/Manga: Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 09.04.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 198 | Status: Completed
Tasuke wakes from his troubling vision, to the group's relief. No sooner do they start off again, then a rain of arrows hails down on them...
Anime/Manga: Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 09.04.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 198 | Status: Completed
“No!” he cries, lurching forward with wide eyes. Miaka, who had been crouching over him in worry, jerks backwards with a squeal, landing on her backside in the grass. Grass? It takes a moment for Tasuke to process what had just happened, but when it does he is on his feet in an instant, gazing towards at a nearby building.
“Tasuke,” Miaka says, crawling to her knees as Tamahome moves forward to aid her. “Are you alright-“
“We have to get out of here, now,” Tasuke says with a grunt, gaze whipping around the clearing. Chichiri steps forward to place a hand on his shoulder, frowning.
“You shouldn’t be moving, ya know,” he says, the frown deepening as Tasuke brushes off his hand.
“I’m fine,” he grunts. The magician shakes his head.
“Just a few moments ago you were on the brink of death!” Halting suddenly, Tasuke frowns incredulously and peers around at the group. They all watch him with mixed emotions; worry and surprise. The memory of the pain, of the pressure, returns to him, causing Tasuke to place a hand subconsciously to his chest.
“But…why me? What the hell happened?” Tasuke cries out in disbelief. Tapping his staff gently against the ground, Chichiri shakes his head as Miaka rises slowly to his feet.
“That’s what we’d like to know, ya know. When you didn’t follow us out of the gutter, we sent Nuriko in after you…when she pulled you out you were almost unconscious, and rambling something about getting Zoku back, and how you were sorry…that her secret was safe with you.” At this, Chichiri grows quiet, studying Tasuke thoughtfully.
Tasuke continues to gaze around the clearing, avoiding their searching gazes.
“I-it’s nothing.” ‘Shit, let’s hope it’s nothing.’ “Like you said, I was delirious.” ‘Was I? And what was that vision? It looked so real. Shit…was that really Zoku?’ Worry engulfs him, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he glances over at Chichiri, frowning incredulously. “What caused that? Do you know?” he asks plainly.
After a moment of fiddling with his staff, the chimes ringing eerily in the silence, Chichiri gives a little shake of his head. “I don’t’ know, ya know. Maybe it was…” he glances up at Tasuke, a thoughtful expression on his face. Tasuke can’t quite read his expression and looks away, unnerved by his tentative gaze.
“Well, whatever happened, it’s over now,” Miaka announces firmly, glancing at Tasuke worriedly. He nods consent to her words. Brightening, Miaka turns to face the others, one palm clenched to her chest. “So we should be heading on our way. Who knows when a maid will wander by to water the flowers, or whatever it is maids do?” The others agree reluctantly, though Mitsukake glances at Tasuke in a way that makes him shift uncomfortably.
“If my calculations are correct,” Chiriko announces, taking a step forward so he is the center of attention, “we should head in this direction to reach the Palace Courtyard.” He gestures with a sleeved arm to the right of them, where the trees part to make a clear path towards a glistening building. The rising sun catches and reflects on the glistening walls, drawing everyone’s gaze to it.
Despite the suggestion, no one moves. They are beginning to have doubts, which is obvious in the way they either avoid glancing at Miaka, stare down placidly at the grass as if searching for something, or the way they clear their throat as if wanting to say something but in the end decided against it. Finally, it’s Tamahome that steps forward to break the silence.
“Are we just gonna stand here, or are we gonna do something?” he asks in a voice thick with urgency, gazing around the group with his piercing gaze. Tasuke draws himself up unconsciously as Tamahome’s gaze travels over him, features grim.
“I say we go for it,” Nuriko announces in her crisp voice, taking a step towards the path. “We may as well finish what we started,” she grumbles in a tone meant for none to hear. Tasuke arches a brow with a grunt, but says nothing. Mitsukake nods and takes a step forward, dwarfing Chiriko, who gazes intently at the others, almost excitedly.
Miaka nods her head bleakly, forcing a grin, and Tamahome side steps so he’s nearer to her, gaze roaming around the clearing. Chichiri continues to gaze curiously at Tasuke, and he pointedly avoids his gaze, fingering the sash around his waist.
“I don’t think,” hTasuke begins as Chiriko steps forward to lead them to the courtyard, “we should go to the Courtyard.” A certain hesitation coats his tongue, as if he isn’t exactly sure what he’s saying. That knowing look Chichiri shoots him finally penetrates his calm, and with a scowl Tasuke tosses him a look, gaze hard. “What are you looking at?”
Chichiri returns his level look with a calm one, tapping the end of his staff gently against the ground.
“The key to our problems, ya know,” he states simply, an unspoken question in the comment. Tasuke shrugs, ignoring the question and hiding behind a sour grimace. Miaka turns towards Tasuke, cocking her head to the side.
“Why wouldn’t we go, Tasuke?” Miaka asks, and then abruptly her features become stubborn. “I thought you wanted to get Zoku back.” Her accusation cuts Tasuke like a knife, but diligently he shakes his head.
“Something isn’t right.” Furtively, he looks to Tamahome for support. “You know what I’m saying, buddy, don’t you?” Tamahome blinks and nearly takes a step back as Tasuke abruptly addresses him, but at Miaka’s piercing gaze he stops and runs a hand through his hair.
“Tamahome?” Miaka says in a demanding voice.
“Oh alright,” he admits with a sigh, raising his hands in defeat. “As soon as I stepped foot in that gutter, something felt wrong. I agree with Tasuke.” He takes in a deep breath, then hesitantly returns Tasuke’s gaze, features accepting. “We shouldn’t go to the Courtyard.” Mitsukake nods as if he’d known this would be the outcome the entire time, but Chiriko frowns, obviously displeased. Chichiri remains pleasantly neutral, eying Tasuke thoughtfully.
Tasuke wishes he’d stop doing that.
“Well what do you expect us to do, then?” Miaka cries, throwing up her arms in exasperation. Tamahome blanches in surprise at her vehement tone, and Chichiri visibly winces.
“Keep it down, ya know,” he advises in a worried tone, gazing carefully around. “We don’t’ want to get caught before we even get started.” Arms quivering at her sides in frustration, Miaka finally gives in with a sigh, features drawn and tired.
“I know,” she says, averting her gaze to the ground. “It’s just-“ An arrow whizzes past Miaka’s cheek, nicking the skin that weeps a droplet of blood. Time in their little clearing seems to slow then stop. Miaka goes as rigid as a stone, eyes wide in shock as a small trail of blood slowly trickles down her cheek.
Then, abruptly, time seems to catch up with them and everything happens at once. Tamahome leaps towards Miaka with a bellow, shoving her to the ground just as another arrow shoots through the air where Miaka had once stood. Shrieking in surprise, Miaka falls to the ground under Tamahome’s protective weight, who places a hand over her head to shield it from attack.
Miaka clutches his chest in fright, pressing her face against him and squeezing her eyes shut.
But Miaka wasn’t the only one as a target. Mitsukake’s lips twist into a grimace as he kneels down next to Chiriko, who winces in pain at an arrow in his arm; he bites his lip furtively in an attempt to hide his yell, which comes out as a shrill moan. In a moment Mitsukake has his hand up and placed over the wound, the rich green glow of his healing powers encompassing Chiriko’s arm.
Tasuke ducks to the ground on impulse, rolling to the side to avoid further attack while unsheathing his fan. Perching on the balls of his feet, Tasuke wields the fan before him with expert grace, scowling at the area the arrows had come from. Nuriko pitches himself to the ground next to Tasuke as arrows whiz past his head, yelling out in surprise as he collides with the ground.
“You alright, Nuriko?” Tasuke asks in a gruff tone, eying the trees around them. Nuriko snorts, glowering over at the red headed youth.
“Thanks for the help, Tasuke,” he replies with a leer. Chichiri, who had fended off the onslaught of arrows by steadily twirling his redwood staff, sidesteps closer to them, gaze fierce.
“This is bad, ya know,” he says, voice soft and urgent, his gaze never lingering on one spot for long.
“Thank you mister obvious,” Tasuke mutters with a glare, leaping forward as another wave of arrows rains down upon them. “Rikkon shien!” he cries, sweeping his diamond fan in a wide arc. Searing flames leap from the end of the fan, burning the arrows to a crisp before they even approach the others.
“I didn’t mean that,” Chichiri replies irritably as Tasuke lands on his feet with a grunt. The wizard glances over at Nuriko as he scurries to help Miaka to her feet. Tamahome wriggles off her with a blush, scrubbing a hand through his hair at Miaka’s accusing glare. After she rises to her feet, with Nuriko placing a hand on her arm to steady her, she lightly pushes Tamahome.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Miaka says stubbornly, voice choked with emotion. “You could’ve been hurt!” Tamahome’s features grow stormy.
“Oh so you would rather I’d stayed back and watched as you were killed by arrows? When I knew I could do something?” he replies in a harsh tone. The two of them seem to forget the danger surrounding them, staring fixedly at one another. Tamahome has a look of suppressed frustration on his face, and Miaka’s face is a mask of annoyance.
A worried frown creases Nuriko’s brow as her grip on Miaka’s arm tightens. Leaping in surprise at the pressure, Miaka whirls to face the cross dresser, who returns her glower with a hesitant smile.
“Please, Miaka, now is no time to fight. In case you haven’t noticed,” she adds dryly, “we’re under attack.” As if to emphasize her words, another wave of arrows shoots from the trees with deadly precision. Before anyone can react, Chichiri leaps forward, repelling the attack with his red wood staff spinning faster than the eye can see.
Scowling openly, Tasuke steps forward to flank Chichiri’s right, and together they make an impenetrable wall in front of Miaka and the others. Mitsukake hangs back with Chiriko, placing himself firmly in front of the young boy, who peers curiously about his wide bulk.
Miaka’s arms go rigid in Nuriko’s grip as realization dawns in her almond shaped eyes. “Holy crap!” she stifles an oath, taking a step closer to Nuriko as her gaze wanders about the clearing, seeking sanctuary. And that is exactly what Nuriko gives her, placing an arm around the priestess’ shoulder. He shifts into a position that places himself between Miaka and the trees, using himself as a shield in case anymore arrows fly out of the shadows.
Tasuke glances over at Tamahome to see his reaction, and grunts in surprise at the calm expression that dominates Tamahome’s features. The young man lounges at his ease off to one side, gaze submissive and poise indifferent.
“We have to split up,” Mitsukake announces suddenly, placing a hand on Chiriko’s shoulder to indicate the young boy would go with him. Chichiri nods in agreement, gesturing for Tasuke to follow his lead. Tasuke’s grip on the fan tightens as he nods in response to Chichiri’s inquiry, shifting his weight from foot to foot in anticipation.
“Tasuke,” Miaka says, crawling to her knees as Tamahome moves forward to aid her. “Are you alright-“
“We have to get out of here, now,” Tasuke says with a grunt, gaze whipping around the clearing. Chichiri steps forward to place a hand on his shoulder, frowning.
“You shouldn’t be moving, ya know,” he says, the frown deepening as Tasuke brushes off his hand.
“I’m fine,” he grunts. The magician shakes his head.
“Just a few moments ago you were on the brink of death!” Halting suddenly, Tasuke frowns incredulously and peers around at the group. They all watch him with mixed emotions; worry and surprise. The memory of the pain, of the pressure, returns to him, causing Tasuke to place a hand subconsciously to his chest.
“But…why me? What the hell happened?” Tasuke cries out in disbelief. Tapping his staff gently against the ground, Chichiri shakes his head as Miaka rises slowly to his feet.
“That’s what we’d like to know, ya know. When you didn’t follow us out of the gutter, we sent Nuriko in after you…when she pulled you out you were almost unconscious, and rambling something about getting Zoku back, and how you were sorry…that her secret was safe with you.” At this, Chichiri grows quiet, studying Tasuke thoughtfully.
Tasuke continues to gaze around the clearing, avoiding their searching gazes.
“I-it’s nothing.” ‘Shit, let’s hope it’s nothing.’ “Like you said, I was delirious.” ‘Was I? And what was that vision? It looked so real. Shit…was that really Zoku?’ Worry engulfs him, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he glances over at Chichiri, frowning incredulously. “What caused that? Do you know?” he asks plainly.
After a moment of fiddling with his staff, the chimes ringing eerily in the silence, Chichiri gives a little shake of his head. “I don’t’ know, ya know. Maybe it was…” he glances up at Tasuke, a thoughtful expression on his face. Tasuke can’t quite read his expression and looks away, unnerved by his tentative gaze.
“Well, whatever happened, it’s over now,” Miaka announces firmly, glancing at Tasuke worriedly. He nods consent to her words. Brightening, Miaka turns to face the others, one palm clenched to her chest. “So we should be heading on our way. Who knows when a maid will wander by to water the flowers, or whatever it is maids do?” The others agree reluctantly, though Mitsukake glances at Tasuke in a way that makes him shift uncomfortably.
“If my calculations are correct,” Chiriko announces, taking a step forward so he is the center of attention, “we should head in this direction to reach the Palace Courtyard.” He gestures with a sleeved arm to the right of them, where the trees part to make a clear path towards a glistening building. The rising sun catches and reflects on the glistening walls, drawing everyone’s gaze to it.
Despite the suggestion, no one moves. They are beginning to have doubts, which is obvious in the way they either avoid glancing at Miaka, stare down placidly at the grass as if searching for something, or the way they clear their throat as if wanting to say something but in the end decided against it. Finally, it’s Tamahome that steps forward to break the silence.
“Are we just gonna stand here, or are we gonna do something?” he asks in a voice thick with urgency, gazing around the group with his piercing gaze. Tasuke draws himself up unconsciously as Tamahome’s gaze travels over him, features grim.
“I say we go for it,” Nuriko announces in her crisp voice, taking a step towards the path. “We may as well finish what we started,” she grumbles in a tone meant for none to hear. Tasuke arches a brow with a grunt, but says nothing. Mitsukake nods and takes a step forward, dwarfing Chiriko, who gazes intently at the others, almost excitedly.
Miaka nods her head bleakly, forcing a grin, and Tamahome side steps so he’s nearer to her, gaze roaming around the clearing. Chichiri continues to gaze curiously at Tasuke, and he pointedly avoids his gaze, fingering the sash around his waist.
“I don’t think,” hTasuke begins as Chiriko steps forward to lead them to the courtyard, “we should go to the Courtyard.” A certain hesitation coats his tongue, as if he isn’t exactly sure what he’s saying. That knowing look Chichiri shoots him finally penetrates his calm, and with a scowl Tasuke tosses him a look, gaze hard. “What are you looking at?”
Chichiri returns his level look with a calm one, tapping the end of his staff gently against the ground.
“The key to our problems, ya know,” he states simply, an unspoken question in the comment. Tasuke shrugs, ignoring the question and hiding behind a sour grimace. Miaka turns towards Tasuke, cocking her head to the side.
“Why wouldn’t we go, Tasuke?” Miaka asks, and then abruptly her features become stubborn. “I thought you wanted to get Zoku back.” Her accusation cuts Tasuke like a knife, but diligently he shakes his head.
“Something isn’t right.” Furtively, he looks to Tamahome for support. “You know what I’m saying, buddy, don’t you?” Tamahome blinks and nearly takes a step back as Tasuke abruptly addresses him, but at Miaka’s piercing gaze he stops and runs a hand through his hair.
“Tamahome?” Miaka says in a demanding voice.
“Oh alright,” he admits with a sigh, raising his hands in defeat. “As soon as I stepped foot in that gutter, something felt wrong. I agree with Tasuke.” He takes in a deep breath, then hesitantly returns Tasuke’s gaze, features accepting. “We shouldn’t go to the Courtyard.” Mitsukake nods as if he’d known this would be the outcome the entire time, but Chiriko frowns, obviously displeased. Chichiri remains pleasantly neutral, eying Tasuke thoughtfully.
Tasuke wishes he’d stop doing that.
“Well what do you expect us to do, then?” Miaka cries, throwing up her arms in exasperation. Tamahome blanches in surprise at her vehement tone, and Chichiri visibly winces.
“Keep it down, ya know,” he advises in a worried tone, gazing carefully around. “We don’t’ want to get caught before we even get started.” Arms quivering at her sides in frustration, Miaka finally gives in with a sigh, features drawn and tired.
“I know,” she says, averting her gaze to the ground. “It’s just-“ An arrow whizzes past Miaka’s cheek, nicking the skin that weeps a droplet of blood. Time in their little clearing seems to slow then stop. Miaka goes as rigid as a stone, eyes wide in shock as a small trail of blood slowly trickles down her cheek.
Then, abruptly, time seems to catch up with them and everything happens at once. Tamahome leaps towards Miaka with a bellow, shoving her to the ground just as another arrow shoots through the air where Miaka had once stood. Shrieking in surprise, Miaka falls to the ground under Tamahome’s protective weight, who places a hand over her head to shield it from attack.
Miaka clutches his chest in fright, pressing her face against him and squeezing her eyes shut.
But Miaka wasn’t the only one as a target. Mitsukake’s lips twist into a grimace as he kneels down next to Chiriko, who winces in pain at an arrow in his arm; he bites his lip furtively in an attempt to hide his yell, which comes out as a shrill moan. In a moment Mitsukake has his hand up and placed over the wound, the rich green glow of his healing powers encompassing Chiriko’s arm.
Tasuke ducks to the ground on impulse, rolling to the side to avoid further attack while unsheathing his fan. Perching on the balls of his feet, Tasuke wields the fan before him with expert grace, scowling at the area the arrows had come from. Nuriko pitches himself to the ground next to Tasuke as arrows whiz past his head, yelling out in surprise as he collides with the ground.
“You alright, Nuriko?” Tasuke asks in a gruff tone, eying the trees around them. Nuriko snorts, glowering over at the red headed youth.
“Thanks for the help, Tasuke,” he replies with a leer. Chichiri, who had fended off the onslaught of arrows by steadily twirling his redwood staff, sidesteps closer to them, gaze fierce.
“This is bad, ya know,” he says, voice soft and urgent, his gaze never lingering on one spot for long.
“Thank you mister obvious,” Tasuke mutters with a glare, leaping forward as another wave of arrows rains down upon them. “Rikkon shien!” he cries, sweeping his diamond fan in a wide arc. Searing flames leap from the end of the fan, burning the arrows to a crisp before they even approach the others.
“I didn’t mean that,” Chichiri replies irritably as Tasuke lands on his feet with a grunt. The wizard glances over at Nuriko as he scurries to help Miaka to her feet. Tamahome wriggles off her with a blush, scrubbing a hand through his hair at Miaka’s accusing glare. After she rises to her feet, with Nuriko placing a hand on her arm to steady her, she lightly pushes Tamahome.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Miaka says stubbornly, voice choked with emotion. “You could’ve been hurt!” Tamahome’s features grow stormy.
“Oh so you would rather I’d stayed back and watched as you were killed by arrows? When I knew I could do something?” he replies in a harsh tone. The two of them seem to forget the danger surrounding them, staring fixedly at one another. Tamahome has a look of suppressed frustration on his face, and Miaka’s face is a mask of annoyance.
A worried frown creases Nuriko’s brow as her grip on Miaka’s arm tightens. Leaping in surprise at the pressure, Miaka whirls to face the cross dresser, who returns her glower with a hesitant smile.
“Please, Miaka, now is no time to fight. In case you haven’t noticed,” she adds dryly, “we’re under attack.” As if to emphasize her words, another wave of arrows shoots from the trees with deadly precision. Before anyone can react, Chichiri leaps forward, repelling the attack with his red wood staff spinning faster than the eye can see.
Scowling openly, Tasuke steps forward to flank Chichiri’s right, and together they make an impenetrable wall in front of Miaka and the others. Mitsukake hangs back with Chiriko, placing himself firmly in front of the young boy, who peers curiously about his wide bulk.
Miaka’s arms go rigid in Nuriko’s grip as realization dawns in her almond shaped eyes. “Holy crap!” she stifles an oath, taking a step closer to Nuriko as her gaze wanders about the clearing, seeking sanctuary. And that is exactly what Nuriko gives her, placing an arm around the priestess’ shoulder. He shifts into a position that places himself between Miaka and the trees, using himself as a shield in case anymore arrows fly out of the shadows.
Tasuke glances over at Tamahome to see his reaction, and grunts in surprise at the calm expression that dominates Tamahome’s features. The young man lounges at his ease off to one side, gaze submissive and poise indifferent.
“We have to split up,” Mitsukake announces suddenly, placing a hand on Chiriko’s shoulder to indicate the young boy would go with him. Chichiri nods in agreement, gesturing for Tasuke to follow his lead. Tasuke’s grip on the fan tightens as he nods in response to Chichiri’s inquiry, shifting his weight from foot to foot in anticipation.