Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ White Stones in the Moonlight ❯ Chapter 11. Confrontation ( Chapter 13 )

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Ummm, let's see what I own...Taiitsukun's crystal shakujou...and the oni (oh, goody)

Musical selection: "Cursum Perficio" by Enya from her CD "Watermark"

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Chapter 11. Confrontation (Chichiri, Nyan, Taiitsukun)

The last dim red ray of the setting sun slipped below the horizon, yielding the indigo sky to the cold embrace of the pale moon and glittering stars. Gone, too, was the last vestige of warmth on the mountain, chased into the darkness by the cold, relentless wind. Snow whipped around the mountain's peak, pulled from the frozen earth rather than the crystalline sky, swirling in countless eddies in the wind's incessant current. Streams of tiny crystal shards spiraled out to plunge like tiny daggers into the form of the weary traveler pausing in his long climb to the summit. He flinched at their myriad tiny stings, unable to summon forth a shield against them without alerting the denizens of the mountain to the presence of his distinctive ki. So he huddled in his hooded cloak, shielding his ki, grasping his kasa and shakujou and waiting for the proper position of the stars before completing the last leg of his journey.

It had been a long, hard journey for the warrior-monk: traveling swiftly through the land, changing horses as often as twice a day, pausing to sleep or eat only for the minimum time needed to replenish his energy. He knew that it was risky to drive himself so hard before facing what could be the ultimate challenge of his life, but he could not shake the sense of urgency which possessed him. During the first leg of his journey, he cast out feelers for the ki forces of his wounded brothers, finding to his relief that the most gravely injured one was making a quicker recovery than expected. However, the other was slipping slowly toward an ever-increasing darkness, pulling his devoted companion with him. The monk knew that he had to complete his mission as quickly as possible and return to the palace before the tragedy which had befallen them succeeded in claiming the life or sanity of a Suzaku shichiseishi.

Chichiri shivered in the frigid gale, watching the stars move slowly in their inexorable course through the heavens. He blew on his hands, trying to keep some feeling in them, grateful for the borrowed cloak he wore. It was not really his style to wear such a heavy garment, but the kindly innkeeper at the last inn in the foothills of Mount Taikyoku had insisted that the monk take it on his pilgrimage to the desolate peak of the mysterious mountain. "Suzaku-sama would not forgive me for allowing one of his holy ones to suffer in the cold during such a blessed pilgrimage!" the worthy man had exclaimed. Chichiri snorted, his breath steaming in the icy air. Blessed pilgrimage, holy monk, indeed! If only the innkeeper knew... But he could not fault the kind man's good intentions or devout nature, so he sent a prayer of blessing heavenward for the man's prosperity, hoping that Suzaku would answer it .

The monk flexed his fingers around his kasa, trying to keep the blood flowing, surprised at the misery being inflicted upon him by the icy wind. He was unused to being unshielded in the face of the elements. "Getting soft!" he reprimanded himself, knowing that he had become accustomed to using his ki force to shield himself from physical discomfort. Well, that had to stop - he was finding himself more and more frequently in situations where he was either unable or unwilling to use his ki, so he had better start building up his body's natural strength. Chichiri frowned as memory took him back to the last time he had to shield his ki, during their rescue mission to Kutou. He recalled that frantic game of hide-and-seek within the grounds of the Kutou palace, first with Tasuki, then with Miaka. Nakago's shield had cut him off from his seishi power, so he had been forced to draw upon deeper, darker powers... at the same time using as little as possible to keep from revealing his true abilities to the cold, perceptive eye of the Shogun.

Chichiri was fairly certain that one-on-one he could match or even defeat the formidable ki force of Seiryuu's principal warrior. But Nakago's power had been enhanced by the addition of other powers blended with his - powers that held the essence of darkness. Chichiri had recognized the distinctive scent of dark sorcery, its bitter, smoky tang registering in his senses so strongly that he could almost taste it. There had to be more magicians within the ranks of the Seiryuu warriors - dark magicians... and it was essential that they not recognize his own powers. So he had to allow Tasuki to fight alone, letting the young Suzaku seishi get beaten and strangled to within an inch of his life. Only when Chichiri had set up enough distractions, using Tama-neko and Amiboshi to break the shield, could he reach out and pull Tasuki from Tamahome's grasp. Chichiri shuddered, more from his memories than from the cold. He had been willing to sacrifice Tasuki, hadn't he? - willing to sacrifice the courageous young seishi rather than reveal himself to the enemy. Chichiri's face became bitterly sad as he thought of Tasuki's pain, past and present. What was he himself becoming? How far was he willing to go in this quest to summon Suzaku? If it hadn't been for Nuriko's success in reaching his heart several nights ago, Chichiri might doubt that he even had a heart to be touched.

"No more!" the magician whispered. "No more sacrifices!" He lifted his tear-filled eye to the heavens, watching the stars finally move into the position he had been awaiting. He placed his frozen hand into his cloak, fumbling for the small bag that hung around his neck. He withdrew a gold finial from the pouch, an object with strange geometric designs protruding from its surface. He brushed the ice from the end of his staff, then fitted the finial onto its tip. Chichiri moved toward a dark outcropping of rock, holding the shakujou perpendicular to the ground, the golden head held even with his eye, its rings jingling softly in the wind. He gazed through the ornate head at the brilliant sky, then chose a distinctive cluster of stars appropriate to the present time of year and aligned the staff so that the constellation fitted within the ornate curves of its head. He plunged the staff straight down into the snow, seeking out the hard resistance of a tiny metal plate. Finding his mark at last, he gently rotated the staff until the geometric designs of the finial clicked into matching indentations in the plate. Chichiri breathed a brief spell, keeping the magic at its lowest possible level. "Open..." he whispered. A dark swirling portal appeared before him, its interior lit by intermittent flashes of lightning-like energy. The magician stepped quickly into its spinning embrace, clutching his hat and staff tightly as he was whisked through. The portal closed with a sound like faint thunder, leaving the snow-covered peak empty once more, the wind keening its lonely cry only to the silent, glowing denizens of the night sky.

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Chichiri stood quietly at the edge of the courtyard of Taiitsukun's palace on Mount Taikyoku, regaining his bearings after his disorienting trip through the portal. He gazed at the familiar enchanted landscape adorned with huge spheres floating gently above the grounds, their golden glow contrasting sharply with the indigo sky. After the icy gales of the illusory mountain, the cool late summer breeze of the real Mount Taikyoku felt as gentle as a lover's caress against his skin. His silvery-blue bangs drooped over his face, still clinking faintly with the ice that had formed during his long climb to the summit. The monk pulled off the heavy hooded cloak and used the thick material to dry his hair as it passed over his face. He folded the cloak and set it under a tree, hoping to return it to the kind innkeeper some day if the opportunity ever presented itself. He hoped that his horse, at least, had found its way back to the inn after he had released it at the base of the mountain.

The magician placed his kasa on his head and held his shakujou horizontally across his body, grasping its rings to keep them from chiming. Stealthily, carefully, he skirted the courtyard, staying within the shadows of the trees until he reached the area he had been seeking - the temples of the Four Gods, where Taiitsukun communed with the seikun over the centuries, giving and receiving instructions depending on whose priestess was actively requiring guidance in the Shi Jin Ten Chi Sho at that time.

He slipped into the first temple - the temple of Genbu. The temple was not as large as its counterpart in Hokkan, but its high vaulted ceiling obscured by shadows gave the sanctuary a feeling of vastness beyond its physical size. The centerpiece of the temple was a statue of Genbu carved from a single piece of black jade, the artistry of the sculpture making the statue appear alive, its snake-like heads twisting sinuously above the tortoise-shelled body. The walls of the temple were decorated with richly rendered hangings in deep green and black, depicting triumphs of the seikun and his warriors in the frozen North. The dim light of two oil lamps danced on the waters of a softly murmuring serenity fountain, but there was no other sign of activity within the temple, no indication of any active communication between seikun and oracle for the last two centuries. It was as he expected - Genbu still slept, waiting for his next priestess to appear and summon him again.

It was much the same in the temple of Byakko. The shrine was the same size as all the other shrines of the beast-gods, with the same vaulted ceiling and the same feeling of celestial vastness. The central figure in the temple was a statue of Byakko carved from white jade, his black stripes rendered in obsidian, crouching as if to spring upon the observer. The principal colors of the temple decor were white shot through with gold, but other than having perpetually burning golden flames instead of trickling water, the temple was no different than Genbu's in the sense of somnolence which permeated its confines. No, the white tiger seikun had not been active for the past ninety years, except in one aspect - Chichiri detected some connection between Byakko and Suzaku no Tamahome. However, this association was currently quiescent, playing no role in the present turmoil in Tamahome's life. He shook his head, accepting that time would reveal all, and moved on to the next temple.

The magician hesitated before the temple of Seiryuu, taking care to make certain that his ki was completely shielded before he stepped into the temple confines. He knew that Seiryuu was very much awake and aware, and that it would be an even greater disaster at this point to alert Seiryuu to his presence than to reveal himself to Taiitsukun. Chichiri was certain that the dragon-seikun had no small resentment against him - not only because he was one of Suzaku's warriors, but also for the part he had played in damaging Seiryuu's temple in Kutou during his and Tamahome's rescue of Miaka. He edged around the door until he was completely within the shrine.

Water. Water everywhere - cascading, pouring, splashing in fountains that murmured secret enchantments to themselves. Waterfalls falling smooth and clear into crystal pools which flowed over hidden rims into mysterious troughs, going on to form glistening streams which coursed out of the temple in concealed apertures. In the midst of all this stood the statue of the dragon-god, its sinuous form glimmering golden in the lamplight, its sapphire eyes glowing, waiting, watching… Despite himself, the monk was overcome with awe. He had not had much time to appreciate Seiryuu's temple in Kutou before he breached the barrier - he had arrived just in time to save Miaka from being flung against the wall by Nakago's ki attack. Shortly thereafter, Tamahome had destroyed the temple walls, sending huge blocks of marble crashing into the myriad fountains. They had transported out of there hastily, escaping while Nakago was still stunned by their attack...so this was the first time that Chichiri had the chance to thoroughly take in the surprising beauty and serenity of the temple of the god of war.

Chichiri ducked his head, pretending to be just another visitor to the temple, keeping his identity shielded but letting his awe seep out. He moved quickly into the area where Taiitsukun communicated with the seikun. The ashes of the sacred incense were cold, and there was no scent of the energy transmitted between seikun and oracle - a distinctive ozone smell, like lightning on a summer night. Chichiri sighed in relief - it did not appear as if Taiitsukun had been communicating with Seiryuu recently. Scanning the temple very briefly with his hidden powers, he calculated that it had been at least three months since the dragon-god manifested itself in person on Mount Taikyoku. This did not completely exonerate Seiryuu from involvement in the oni incident - plans may well have been made far in advance. But this new evidence, combined with the lack of reaction from Kutou to the Suzaku turmoil, made it much more likely that the oni attack truly was the result of a terrible mistake on Taiitsukun's part.

A mistake indeed... but that was no excuse for the current silence from the oracle. No apology, no assumption of responsibility, no effort to help or make amends... Chichiri felt anger rising in him, so he quickly exited the temple of Seiryuu before the shield over his ki wavered.

He stood beneath the stars, their brilliance somewhat dimmed by the waxing moon. He took a deep breath to clear his mind, then glanced at the temple of Suzaku. The magician decided against visiting this familiar sanctuary - he was about to embark upon a confrontation with the phoenix-god's oracle, and he could see no point in alerting Suzaku to his intentions. He knew that he was now acting of his own volition rather than following the path set out for him by his god.

Chichiri moved toward the palace, wanting to explore one last area before he revealed his presence to Taiitsukun. He knew that his chances of escaping detection within the palace itself were very slim - the watchful guardian of Mount Taikyoku would not fail to recognize the presence of an intruder. He could only hope to get enough time for a quick look around before he was apprehended by the guardian, but hopefully, that quick look would confirm the information that he had already obtained about the inception of the oni incident. From there, he would decide how to deal with Taiitsukun...

Slipping into the palace, Chichiri moved swiftly toward the temple of Taiitsukun, her own sanctuary in which she received the infrequent but hopeful pilgrims who braved the icy mountain to kneel before her, grasping petitions to be presented to one of the Four Gods. That was what the kindly innkeeper had mistaken him for - a holy man on a mission for his village or some other noble cause. But Taiitsukun also received other visitors here...The monk moved stealthily toward the elaborate carved doors to the temple, doors which reached to the high ceiling of the corridor, the carvings of the Four Gods reflecting faintly on their surfaces. He opened the doors and slipped inside Taiitsukun's temple.

This temple resembled the temples of the gods in its vaulted ceilings and feeling of spaciousness. But the only statues within the shrine were representations of the Four Gods, not of Taiitsukun him/herself. A wise decision, thought Chichiri, considering the unprepossessing exterior that Taiitsukun had chosen for his/her disguise. The temple was dimly lit by elaborately carved oil lamps, their light reflecting off the quiet serenity fountain whose waters formed a moat around the raised dais above which Taiitsukun would appear to her visitors. The magician moved further into the temple, placing his shakujou on the dais and casting around for the traces of other ki signatures, looking in particular for that of the Shogun of Kutou. Nothing...just the innocuous ki of a pilgrim who had passed through perhaps one month ago. That was all to the good, thought the monk...but he still decided to confront Taiitsukun about a possible conspiracy just to see how she would react.

As he took one last look around the temple, he suddenly felt another presence and knew that he had been detected by the guardian. He leaped forward and seized his staff just as silver bolts of energy hissed towards him. Spinning his staff while rapidly chanting warding spells, he managed to deflect the attack. The bolts bounced off the walls, then disappeared, as a huge shape prowled gracefully into the sanctuary. Chichiri gazed at the silver-blue fur and cold silver eyes of the panther-like guardian of Mt. Taikyoku - a panther that stood five feet tall at the shoulder. The creature suddenly multiplied into several copies of itself which stalked around the room until they completely surrounded Chichiri. Chichiri stood calmly in place and stared into the eyes of the original guardian. "Hello, Nyan." he said.

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At his words, every one of the panthers suddenly morphed into cherubic, cheerful blue-haired girls. "Chichiri-sama!" they called out happily, flying around him. "Chichiri-sama's here!" "Chichiri-sama's back!" "Chichiri-sama frightened Nyan-nyan!" "Almost as much as Taiitsukun's face!" "Has Chichiri-sama come to fix Taiitsukun's face?!" They twittered and swooped, seeming to take joy in his unexpected visit.

Chichiri continued to stare dispassionately at the original Nyan. "You forgot the eyes." he admonished. The silver eyes of the lead Nyan suddenly flashed, then morphed into an innocent lavender-blue. "Chichiri-sama makes Nyan-nyan very happy!"

"You can stop now." Chichiri interrupted. "You forget - I know what you really are. So let's not waste any more time. Fetch Taiitsukun for me - I need to talk to her."

The multiple copies of Nyan disappeared, leaving one blue-haired girl staring up at Chichiri, her appearance maturing into that of a young woman. "What could be so important that it brings you here in the dead of night, Chichiri-sama? ...brings you through an undetectable portal to move in stealth through our home like a thief in the night?"

Chichiri met her suspicious glare evenly. "My business is with Taiitsukun, not her guardian spirit."

Nyan's eyes flashed silver for a moment at the snub, then she nodded. "Wait here." she commanded, then left to inform the oracle of the unexpected visit from her disciple.

Time passed...

Chichiri sat in the temple, waiting patiently for Taiitsukun to appear. He knew that the extended wait was calculated to unnerve him, so he sat calmly with his kasa beside him, fingertips pressed together, eye closed, legs crossed in a meditative pose. Just as he planned, his apparent relaxation finally compelled Taiitsukun to appear. She floated in midair, her ribbons trailing as she glared at the intruder. Chichiri unfolded his legs and stood before her.

"Chichiri!" the oracle barked, her ancient voice harsh. "Explain yourself! How dare you disturb our rest?!"

Chichiri's gaze was flat . "Is that what you were doing, resting? I wondered why I haven't heard from you in over a week. In fact, we haven't communicated since the failed summoning of Suzaku. Don't you want to know why we haven't left to seek out the Shinzaho yet?" By this time, Chichiri's tone was as harsh as Taiitsukun's. "Aren't you the least bit curious as to what the Suzaku shichiseishi are doing? Or does that magic mirror of yours tell you more than you want to know?!" he accused.

Taiitsukun's features contorted in rage. "How dare you speak so to me?! Watashi wa sensei desu! Anata wa seito desu! What gives you the right to invade my home without my permission and speak to me with such disrespect?!"

Chichiri's eye blazed with such fury that Taiitsukun moved back. "What gives me the right?!" he hissed. "I'll tell you what gives me the right!"

His voice cracked like a whip in the hushed surroundings. "Holding the broken body of that boy in my arms as he wept with pain and humiliation! Looking into the face of his attacker, and seeing a wish for death in the eyes of one so young that he had only just begun to live! Feeling the heartbreak of all those who love them, as they struggle to understand why! THAT is what gives me the right to call you to account for what your stupidity has wrought! You ask how I dare?! I ask how YOU dare face Suzaku after nearly destroying his chosen ones more effectively than anything Nakago could do! Or is it Seiryuu that you answer to?!"

Taiitsukun did not attempt to pretend that she didn't know what Chichiri was talking about. Her hooded eyes flashed as she glared at her disciple. "You go too far, Suzaku no Chichiri! You know perfectly well that I deal with the dragon-seikun as little as possible! You know that we have had a falling-out ever since he felt it necessary to destroy an entire people merely to hone the hatred and power of his principal warrior!" Taiitsukun scowled as she remembered her confrontation with Seiryuu. Losing compassion for the brief lives of humans was one of the side-effects of being immortal...and one of the reasons that she was being confronted by her own disciple now.

She met the glaring eye of Suzaku's monk, suddenly hesitant as she realized her mistake in thinking the situation less than devastating since no one died. "What happened to Tasuki and Tamahome was a...regrettable error on my part." she admitted.

"Regrettable ERROR?!" the monk hissed. "My brothers almost kill each other and themselves because of your incompetence, and you call it a regrettable error?!!"

Taiitsukun shifted her position, her shame causing her to react defensively. "They are not yours, Chichiri! They are the chosen ones of Suzaku, not your brothers by blood!" She paused and lowered her voice. "I have contacted Suzaku about this situation, and I await his decision as to what action needs to be taken for the good of all his warriors. What we need to do at this point is retrieve the seishi power of Suzaku no Tamahome and deal with this oni once and for all. You may waste all the time you wish in useless recriminations, but I believe that you would do better to return to the palace and help in the healing of your fellow seishi."

Chichiri regarded the oracle silently. Finally he spoke. "You are correct in saying that recriminations are a waste of time, and time is something that I don't have. But I would like to know if you feel anything at all about the pain you have caused... anything other than mild regret. I would like to know if the lives of Suzaku's warriors matter at all in the great celestial games of the gods."

Taiitsukun flushed. "Yes, Chichiri, they do. You know your god - he does not take your lives lightly. As for myself, I am bitterly sorry for what has happened due to my negligence...and that is the primary reason I have been unable to face you, at least until I had some solution to your problems. If it's any comfort to you, this entire experience has changed me also...at least, it has changed the way I will approach my actions in dealing with mortal lives in the future."

The monk nodded in acknowledgment of her apology. "More than that I cannot ask. But there is one other thing..." his voice dropped. "They are mine. They are my children, my family, the brothers of my heart... and there is nothing that you or Suzaku or all the powers of heaven or hell can do to change that!"

Taiitsukun frowned at his defiance and the shifting of his loyalties away from Suzaku and toward his fellow seishi. She decided to deal with that at some other point. "Be that as it may, Chichiri, we have greater problems before us. Will you help me to free Tamahome's power from the grip of the oni?"

Chichiri nodded, reaching behind himself to remove Chiriko's scroll from his belt. He laid it on the floor of the temple before the dais.

"Nyan." commanded Taiitsukun. The young woman stepped forward from the shadows where she had been keeping watch over Taiitsukun. She gripped a piece of sacred incense in her hand, using it to draw a wide circle around the scroll. She then retrieved a shakujou from behind the dais and handed it to Taiitsukun. The shakujou was even more ornate than Chichiri's, its shaft gleaming with gold and its crystal rings chiming like celestial bells. Chichiri walked over to the dais to stand beside Taiitsukun, placing his hat on the dais to keep it out of their way. They locked glances, then raised their shakujous toward the scroll. "Come out!" they both commanded.

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The scroll vibrated at their command, the strong pull of the power within the scroll vying with the demon's attempts to escape. Not wishing to compromise the power of the scroll, the oracle and the mage struggled to gently pry the oni out of its grip, focusing their ki forces and attempting to communicate with the power within. Sweat beaded on Chichiri's forehead as he gently rotated his shakujou back and forth, seeking the correct position to draw forth the oni. Finally, he felt the scroll's power yield. Taiitsukun sighed in relief. "We have it!" she whispered in triumph.

A hissing sound issued from the scroll, along with a dark amorphous form glowing with yellow-green light. Chichiri felt something inside of him clench at the sight of the true form of the demon. Clutched within the grasping protrusions of the oni was a light glowing red with the power of Suzaku.

"Nyan." Taiitsukun ordered again. The young woman approached the pulsating form of the demon. Drawing a brush-like whisk from a pot of fragrant water, she flung droplets of the sacred infusion at the oni. They all heard a shriek within their minds as the form contorted, releasing the red light from its grasp. Tamahome's seishi power flowed upward and out, swirling around Taiitsukun before streaming into her shakujou. The oni flung itself at the circle in an attempt to escape, but the magic barrier threw it back into the center. The oni now lacked a body to vocalize outwardly, but they could hear its angry hissing as it communicated with them telepathically.

Chichiri stared at the oily darkness which comprised the physical manifestation of the oni, yellow-green light sliding off its constantly morphing shape. The oni seemed to take notice of his regard, twisting sinuously closer to the edge of the circle nearest Chichiri.

"So we meet again, little monk!" it hissed gleefully in their minds. "Did you... miss me?"

Chichiri felt a slight shudder run through him at its seductive tone. He turned to face Taiitsukun. "What now?" he asked.

"Now I must purify Tamahome's seishi power with Suzaku's help, then try to enhance it once again as Suzaku had commanded." She looked Chichiri in the eye. "I will be very careful this time, I promise you. I will take every precaution to make sure that it turns out as it should." She floated forward and used the shaft of her shakujou to pull Chiriko's golden scroll out of the enchanted circle. Nyan hurried forward to pick it up, then handed it to Chichiri. He tucked it back into his belt.

Taiitsukun spoke again. "You may return the scroll to Suzaku no Chiriko with my thanks. I will let you know when Tamahome's seishi power has been purified."

"So what will become of this... thing?" Chichiri stared coldly at the dark, roiling mass of the oni.

"I will send it back into the deepest depths of Hell to burn for eternity." Taiitsukun's voice was hard, resolute.

"But it's possible that one day, it could escape again... it's possible that it could get free."

"Oh yes, little monk!" The oni's voice scratched gleefully at their minds. "And then I'll come looking for you... and then we'll dance! Perhaps we'll even invite your friend Tasuki to join us... I am so very fond of him, too!"

Taiitsukun scowled. "The chances of such a thing happening again are very small, almost nonexistent."

Chichiri's eye narrowed. "Almost isn't good enough." His voice dropped, grew cold, dangerous. "Step aside, Taiitsukun."

Taiitsukun's eyes widened at the command. "What do you intend? I won't allow...!"

"Step aside, I said." His voice was steel encased in ice.

Taiitsukun floated back in surprise. Nyan converted to her panther form, a growl rumbling in her chest as she prowled protectively around the oracle.

"You too, Nyan. This is all the warning you're going to get." A mystical wind began to whirl around Chichiri, ruffling his hair and lifting his kesa to snap and swirl around him sinuously. He placed his staff upright, holding it between himself and the pulsating, crawling form of the oni. A reddish glow began to emanate from his body... but it was not the pure red light of Suzaku. This was a dark, scorching red - the red of raging hellfire, of freshly spilled blood...

Nyan's hackles rose, and she caught Taiitsukun's ribbons in her teeth, dragging the old woman back and away from the mage. Taiitsukun cried out once more. "Chichiri! These are sacred precincts! I forbid you to..."

"Shut up!" he snarled. "You have no power over me!"

The oni's voice chortled happily in their heads. "Oh, yessss, lovely! You excite me, little monk! What darkness lies within you! I want you to be mine forever!"

The monk's gaze was cold, pitiless. "There is no more forever for you, you crawling abomination! It all ends for you tonight - right here, right now!"

He began to chant spells in some unknown guttural tongue. The blood-red aura surrounding him became tinged with black, the darkness threading itself through his hair, his clothes, his face until his features were lost in shadow. Only his eye could be seen, suddenly blazing a light, hot silver-blue. The same light flared from the ornate gold head of his staff, the rings chiming sharply as they clashed together in the mystical wind. Chichiri began to rotate the shakujou in a figure eight around his body, gaining speed until the staff blurred in his grasp. Suddenly, he snapped his wrist, pointing the light toward the oni. "This is for your violation of my memories!" he hissed. The silver-blue light stabbed into the oni like a dagger, and the creature contorted and shrieked in surprised agony.

The light glowing in Chichiri's eye changed to a deep pulsing violet, the light of the staff shifting to the same hue. He lifted the staff above his head as he once again began its deadly rotation, still chanting in the cabalistic tongue. Sweeping the staff downward before the oni, he cast the light directly on its twitching, jerking form. "This is for Nuriko's tears!" he snarled, as the violet light crushed the oni beneath its invisible weight. The oni screamed, trying to crawl out from beneath the grinding pressure, the intense crushing pain reminiscent of a gauntleted arm pressing against one's throat. After several seconds, Chichiri set the staff upright, releasing the creature briefly, only to immediately recommence the sinister gyrations of the shakujou around his form. The oni began to whimper, recognizing the deadliness of the power being wielded by the mage. "Please..." its voice scratched weakly. "Please don't..."

"This... is for Tamahome's suffering!" screamed the magician, his voice as cold and desolate as an arctic wind blowing across icy wastes. The light of the staff had darkened to an intense midnight blue, Chichiri's eye darkening along with it. The light leaped forth from the staff in short hard bursts, impacting the oni again and again, causing the creature to howl beneath the endless pummeling blows. Suddenly, the staff jerked upward, stopping the attack. The now pitiful demon trembled and whimpered, its dark mass shuddering weakly. "Please..." it begged. "Please don't hurt me anymore..."

Chichiri stood silent, the blackish light fading out from his red aura, his features once again emerging from the shadows. Taiitsukun floated open-mouthed in shock as Nyan continued to hold her back. "Is it... is it over?" she stammered. Chichiri did not acknowledge her with so much as a glance.

"I wonder..." he mused softly to the demon. "I wonder how many times you've heard those same words over the centuries. Can you remember?"

Taiitsukun and Nyan began to relax, reassured by his soft tone and the pure red hue of his aura.

The magician continued. "Do you remember the last time you heard those same pleas for mercy? Was it perhaps just... last... WEEK?!!" He howled in rage, finally releasing the tight control he had held over his emotions for the past seven days. Chichiri allowed his memories to flood through him, the agonizing images flashing before his eyes once more: amber eyes wide with terror, then filled with tears of humiliation... a broken, bloodied body trembling in his arms... that same body limp in his grasp as the anguished boy tried to escape through unconsciousness...Chichiri let his own grief and rage and anguish burn through him, feeding the darkness within him like oil poured on flames. The red of his aura was now shot through with yellow and orange, leaping, crackling, blazing around him. "Mercy shall be given to you!" he thundered at the cowering demon. "The very same mercy you showed my brother!!" He whipped his staff around his head until it whistled in a intensifying vortex of power, seeming to pull darkness out of every shadow in the temple, concentrating the dark energy until the mage appeared to stand in a cyclone of hellish, sorcerous black light. He suddenly threw his hand up, arresting the deadly revolutions and snapping the staff at the oni. "THIS!" he roared, his voice echoing with the fury of a wildfire destroying everything in its path, "is for TASUKI!!"

The staff exploded with mystical fire, an inferno of bright flames blasting forth like the divine fire of the tessen. The oni shrieked again and again as it blistered and bubbled in the hellish conflagration. Chichiri held the fire steadily on the contorting form of the demon, its screams for mercy drowned by the roar of the flames. Finally its blackened form shuddered and fell silent, yet the mage kept the flames pouring onto the twisted darkness until the last ash of its existence was burned away.

At last, he pulled the shakujou upright. The fire went out immediately, leaving the temple dim and dark. Chichiri's aura faded away, the invisible wind dying down as his kesa floated down into its usual position across his body. His panting was the only sound in the darkness, his two witnesses having been struck dumb with awe and horror. Finally, the mage regained his breath. He stooped to retrieve his hat, then turned to face Taiitsukun.

"You will let me know when to bring Tamahome here to reclaim his seishi power." The statement was simple, firm, more of a command than a request.

Taiitsukun finally snapped out of her shocked immobility. Nyan converted back to her little girl form, clinging anxiously to Taiitsukun's side. The old woman's mouth worked as she gestured with a trembling hand toward the blackened space where the oni had once crawled. "What?!" she sputtered. "How?!...Where?!!"

"The oni no longer exists on this plane... or any other." Chichiri's reply was soft, direct. "It's gone - forever." He turned and began to walk out of the shrine.

"Chichiri!!" The ancient voice was furious, accusing. "I never taught you any of the dark arts! I never taught you such soul-destroying sorcery!!"

Chichiri paused, not turning around. "No," he agreed. "You didn't."

Taiitsukun drew herself up in rage at his insolence. Nyan huddled closer to her in fear. The old woman's voice cracked like a whip. "When you came here to study, I took you in, believing that you were not only one of Suzaku's chosen ones, but also a holy man, a scholar! Explain yourself, Suzaku no Chichiri!!"

The reply was soft, flat. "I said I was a monk."

Chichiri turned his head slightly so that she could see his right profile.

"I never claimed to be a saint."

Placing his hat on his head, he turned and walked out the door.

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Glossary of Japanese terms:

1) kasa - (bamboo) hat

2) shakujou - monk's staff

3) kesa - (Buddhist priest's) stole; Chichiri's cloak

4) seikun - god, referring to one of the four beast-gods

5) Shi Jin Ten Chi Sho - The Universe of the Four Gods

6) "Watashi wa sensei desu! Anata wa seito desu!" - "I am the teacher! You are the student!" (Taiitsukun is attempting to put Chichiri in his place.)

Author's notes: (4-9-03) Well, I've updated at last. Sorry for the long delay, but Real Life rules, as usual.

And Chichiri is back at last, but... not quite the same Chichir most fans expected, ne? Dark, vengeful, merciless... well, I await all comments. Flowers and brickbats both welcome (author ducks and hides in storm shelter). As for why, and what is in Chichiri's past...well, you'll have to wait for the next chapter... and maybe the next fic I intend to post here, a study of Chichiri's past called "Bridge Over the Abyss.".

And a dangerous Nyan-nyan, too. Why did I depict Nyan-nyan as a feline? One of my little fancies, originating from her name. Nyan is one of the ways the Japanese represent the sound a cat makes (also written as Nyao or Niao - what we call Meow). Also, the Viz manga defines her name as meaning "Nanny". Nanny?! Why would Taiitsukun need a nanny?! But perhaps she could use a guardian...could be one of the reasons she puts up with all of the little imp's insults.

Oh, by the way - I have been told that Chichiri's last line sounds like a line from the movie "The Count of Monte Cristo." Please believe that this is just one of those weird coincidences, since I have never seen that movie (and this chapter was originally published online in March 2002, anyway.)

See you next time!

Ja ne!

Roku