Dazzling

Dazzling

He was walking in some kind of field, looking at the sky, or ceiling, both mix together and bled, but it was normal. He'd been holding Miaka's hand since they got off the boat together. Small and warm, she was smiling at him, pointing out birds and grass. She said he was going to make her a violin and he smiled and nodded, she’d always wanted one of those. He'd need some metal, and fire. There was a furnace in the next room and it was blazing hot, but it was ok because she was smiling and urging him on. He kept trying to make the thing, but it kept coming out wrong and she kept telling him to do it over. He was trying. Trying his best, but he couldn't seem to get it right. Miaka smiled up at him and told him, while still brightly grinning that she was not in love with him anymore.

There was a spark from the furnace and someone said he should have noticed a long time ago, but the room was on fire. He looked around for Miaka, but she was gone. Somehow he knew she was the one who wanted him to die here, planning out his sizzling end in fire. Fire of all the elements.

His God and....There was a knock on the door and he needed to go and get it. He was angry because he was about to find something that could help him, but he opened the door and the flames rushed out, like a breeze. They blow and circle around the man at the door. Terry was there, wearing a long blue jacket clasped with a belt. He was looking at the jacket as Terry opened his mouth and the flames dove down his throat. Terry smiled and a fang peeked out from beneath the grinning lips. Terry pulled him close and kissed him and Tamahome felt the heat and was happy.

"Tama." Terry's voice was two toned, familiar and new. "Ya know I ain't never loved no one more'n you." he grinned and stuck out his tongue. "Maybe Kouji's got a close second."

"You loved Kouji?!" He broke the kiss, somehow they were talking and still holding their breath, and smacked him on the head.

Terry was content to watch Tamahome dream, listening to him mutter about violins and orphans* was amusing for the first few hours but sleep tugged him in as well.

The world that he slipped into when dreams took him was one he knew and had visited many times before. He always spoke to the same mirror, always the same questions; why doesn't it make sense? What am I waiting for? Should I give up or keep searching?

The same voice always answered; his tone slightly more rough and deeper than his own, but close enough to pass in the dream-state. "It does make sense, think about it, aho. The one you're waitin' for is right there. Just open yer eyes and look at 'em. Yer search is over, but be ready when the walls fall." The answer was different. Different enough to wake him from a dead sleep and send him bolting upright in bed to the light of mid morning.

"Holy shit. Oh gods, what the hell?" He tried to piece the dream back together as he did every morning, and had just as much luck as always: none. With a sigh, he lay back down and curled into Tamahome's side, content to just hold him until he woke.

Tamahome woke up feeling like he was about to laugh at something, but couldn't remember. He did however feel Terry lying back down and was momentarily confused. "What's the matter?" he asked in a sleep-sluggish voice. He was about to add in, 'Tasuki', but thankfully a yawn made the name only come out as, 'Teh-ahhh-...' When he closed his mouth again, he had given up on trying the name. "Get back t'sleep, you’re keeping me up." Tamahome grumbled, and tossed himself over in the covers, stealing them away from Terry and cuddling up in them.

Terry pouted and grabbed the corner of the blanket, tugging hard but getting no leverage. "I would get back t'sleep, but someone's a blanket thief!" He put a cold foot in the center of Tamahome's back and pushed while pulling at the blanket.

"AHGHG!!" Tamahome woke up by arching and jumping out of the way of the ice that was slapped to his back. "What the HELL!" he screamed at the redhead as he threw the covers back over his head.

Straining to hold on to the comforter, he wriggled cold toes against almost hot skin. "Share or I'm comin'-" his grip slipped and he fell off the edge of the bed. "DAMNIT!"

Tamahome crossed his arms and grinned cockily. "You deserved that, Baka." Surprisingly how easy he slipped into a familiar routine from previous rude awakenings of the redhead variety.

Terry shot up, a growl echoing in the room. "You stole the blankets, aho! What did ya expect me t'do? I thought I was bad when I slept, but damn, tellin' me 'go back t'sleep, yer keepin' me awake' and then takin ALL of the goddamned blanket!" He crawled up on the bed menacingly, golden eyes narrowed in playful anger. "Tama-chan, you got two seconds t'gimme the blankets or I'm gonna pounce ya and kick your scrawny little ass!" He stopped, blinking in surprise. He'd never used so much profanity at one time in his life. Also a first for him was threatening bodily harm to someone that he really liked. He was confused to say the least.

"HA! You could never beat me; you wanna try a-" Shit! Tamahome stopped mid trash talking and just stared at Terry. "Sorry, that was.... A little too familiar." He wanted to beat himself in the head, repeatedly. "Gods Terry, I think I should go."

Terry shook his head and laughed at the expression on Tamahome's face. He rolled over, laughing hard. "You... we was gonna..." he panted between giggles, "fight over blankets!" Grabbing said fought for item, he rolled up in it and moved as far as his now snake like body would allow. "Ha! Mine, aho!" He grinned over his shoulder, still inching towards the opposite side of the bed.

When the suggestion to leave finally pierced his brain, he stopped. "Aww, don't go. I was havin' fun!" He poked his lip out and pouted, batting his lashes prettily. "Please, Tama-chan?"

Tamahome twitched the corner of his lip at him. "You really want me to?" Then he looked at the sight on the bed and quirked a brow at it. "You look ridiculous, like an enchilada with puppy dog eyes." Reluctantly, he crawled back. "Fine I'll stay, but.... You got to give me some of that at least." He tugged at the blankets and unrolled the Terry from them. "I don't think blankets are a bad thing to fight over." he grumbled as he got comfortable again. "But you thinking you could win in a fight against me was pretty funny." He stuck out his tongue and turned over.

Terry sat up, indignant. "Hey! Why is it so funny? I could do it!" He growled and pounced on his lover, pinning him face down on the bed. "Ha! See?" He did a happy wriggle, a wide, fang-baring smile curving his lips. "I win, I pinned my Tama-chan!" He sang happily.

Tamahome was splattered to the silk, nose buried in material. He flailed, shouting into the down that he couldn't breath. He growled, and pumped himself up in one furious pushup, unpinning himself and flopping backward to lie on him. He sprawled out over the most-likely uncomfortable Terry like he was a big fainting couch. "Aahh, that's nice. I gotta get me a cushion like this for MY bed."

Terry yelped in surprise as he was suddenly on his back with a very heavy, very dead Tamahome on top of him. "I ain't yer cushion. If I remember right, I was on top in yer bed and you was whimperin' for me to move until I finally gave in an' let ya." He nipped Tamahome's neck hard, scraping his fangs along the bared skin. "I'm gonna eat ya if ya don't get off."

"Oh, no fair." A shiver ran through him as fangs met his neck. "You can't bring up the other night, that's not valid here." He said, trying to talk through the feeling running down his spine.

Terry bit him again, growling. "Why not? I was there, trust me, it SO counts." He pushed at Tamahome's shoulders, trying to dislodge the dead weight on top of him. "It ain't my fault ya don't remember it." He wriggled, trying to slide to the side but Tamahome was sprawled in a way that kept him from escaping. "This ain't fair, yer heavy." He wound a leg around Tamahome's hip, trying to shove him off. Biting one more time to warn him that eating him was still an option.

"Ow!" he raised a hand to his neck and swiveled around. "You seriously fight dirty." he playfully glared at him. "Go, go, I set you free to wander, just no more biting. You'll be pulling my hair next." Tamahome got up and let him out.

Terry stuck his tongue out and rolled away. "It ain't dirty when I'm plastered to my own bed with a heavy man on top of me, refusing to let me go! I don't pull hair! I kinda like my hair how it is, anybody grabs a hold of it to tug is gonna be eatin' my fist. Well, not girls, a'course."

He sat up on the end of the bed, his back to Tamahome as he unwound the braid from the night before and let the wavy red curtain cover his shoulders. He rolled his eyes skyward. "Ya know, uh, I uh, kinda have a tattoo. I didn't wanna say nothin', but I figured you'd see it sometime anyway." Pulling his hair over his shoulder, he looked back and ran his fingers over the black character. "Tsubasa."

He was about to come back with something, something witty and sharp, but everything dulled away when he saw the character on Terry's shoulder blade. "Tsubasa..." he repeated. His breath caught in his throat and he felt like he was spinning. Almost in a daze, he lifted his fingers to trace the black ink. "Why did you get it?" he asked, emotion tightening his throat.

Terry shrugged. "Ma told me I could get it on my fifteenth birthday. I just liked the way it looked. I wanted it on the outside of my forearm, but Ma said that a dancer can't have tattoos where they could be seen."

He turned and looked at Tamahome, knowing that the mark meant more to him than a simple tattoo. "Tama, I-I don't know what t'say. I know that Tasuki had one, and if'n it's gonna make ya uncomfortable I'll keep make up on it to cover it. I just thought ya would like t'know. Didn't wanna hide it from ya."

"On the outside of his forearm." he said, almost crumbling. "That's where his was. Right here." he lifted his arm up and pointed. "But you don't remember anything..." this was painful. "So you're not him. Terry...." That's when his voice gave out and he just took to shaking his head.

Terry felt as if he'd just kicked a kitten and wanted to hug him until he felt better, but he'd caused it by opening his fat mouth. "I'm sorry, Tamahome. I wouldn't have said anything if I knew." He said softly, his hands aching to reach out and pet him. He sighed and stood up. "Once I get dressed I'm leaving, I'll be back in about an hour. Will ya be here when I come back?"

Tamahome shook his head. "No, I think this is a bad idea, Terry. I'm too wrapped up in everything right now. Miaka, and then finding you, and ...It's a little too much. I think you deserve better than someone who can barely keep from calling you someone else’s name." He got up and found his clothes again. "I like you. I want to get to know YOU, not go chasing after the past." He looked over at him and gave a sad smile. "I don't want this to be goodbye, but I also don't want to hurt you."

Terry sat heavily on the end of the bed, nodding woodenly. "Of course. Do what you think is best." He should have known that things wouldn't turn out. They never did. Why would a perfect man fall into his lap and stay there? He wouldn't. "Sorry about this. Maybe next time we meet," he snorted internally, as if he could ever let himself see Tamahome again. "I won't remind you of him so much."

"You know," he said, pausing at the door. "I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing, and I think that clarifies why I need to go." He rushed out the door, wanting nothing but to be outside as quickly as possible. He left his wallet, forgot the jacket he had come in. The only thing he brought back to his place was the key for the front door. Not that it mattered. He wasn't going to be going back inside for a long while yet.

It was raining, cold fall rain and the wind was kicking up. Still, he didn't regret forgetting his coat there. He felt like he should be cold, like fire should abandon him. Leaning up against a brick wall, he let the rain mingle with the tears that were falling. Numb fingers felt in his pockets for the picture he kept by him...Surprise, followed quickly by sadness that widened then closed his eyes as he slid down the wall. The picture was still in his coat pocket. "Aho." he called himself and rested his forehead over his knees.

Terry gathered up the things that Tamahome had left behind, sending them down to the lobby to stay with Josh in the off chance that Tamahome came back for them. Following that, he called his mother and told her to call ahead and open her vacation home in Osaka for him, that he had work to do if he was going to open his own studio.

His mother arranged everything, all of his things were gone three hours after he'd spoken to her, leaving him to do nothing but grab his canvas bag and get in the car.

He left a note with Chiri, just in case Tamahome came back for whatever reason, stating that he'd left and to please forget about the mistakes they'd made and go back to the miko girl that obviously loved him, but was too stupid to see it.

Hanging the 'For Sale' sign up on his apartment door, he let himself feel just what he had lost because he looked a certain way. Well, he'd fix that too.

00

How someone could sleep with a gallon of cold water pouring on them was something Tamahome would have thought of asking before last night. With soaked clothes and numb fingers, Tamahome's eyes cracked open at the first light of dawn. The rain had stopped and it was warmer out, but that didn't stop him from shivering. A cold wet spot on the ground underneath him, a little oasis in the middle of the drying pavement. He shook his head. He was tired, but he didn't care.

Pushing himself up off the wall and feeling every muscle cry out at the movement, he stood up. There was no use in staying here. Here was sulking and crying and getting nothing done. He had to move.

He stumbled back to his apartment, shoved the key in the lock and threw off his clothes into a wet heap on the wooden floor and not caring. He had a plan, thought of it last night in fevered dreams. Tamahome sneezed while he leafed through the phone numbers he kept in a small book under the sink. His cell phone was gone, left there with the rest of his stuff. No landline, but he did have a few quarters in his pocket. He found the number and rushed outside to a pay phone.

After thirteen rings and a few curses under his breath, Tetsuya answered the phone. ...

... He came back to the apartment with a wild hope in his heart and an old book under his shirt. He hadn't dared tell Tetsuya why he needed it and he didn't dare open it until he was safely locked away in his apartment. Now, he quickly thumbed through the worn pages to the last of the writing and worked his way backwards, hoping beyond hope that it told him something about what happened to Tasuki.

Suzaku Shichiseishi Tasuki battled back the bandits that had dared try and take his mountain; he sent them running with holy fire and demonic, fierce swipes of a blade. Though he was gaining ground, his bandits at his back, a single arrow took him down.

It pierced his belly, his blood running black through his fingers, but he fought onward simply breaking off the shaft of the arrow and continuing on as though he were not mortally wounded.

The day was won, yet it was a bitter victory. The Reikaku bandits searched their holy mountain for months, trying to find the body of a beloved friend and fearless leader but all that was left behind was the broken off arrow that had been plunged into his gut.

Tamahome closed the book. He didn't want to read another word. He had known Tasuki must be dead, the time passage alone was enough to prove it, but he hadn't known. The cold that penetrated him the night before seeped in deeper, it seemed. He hugged his arms around himself and held the book to his chest.

"I wish I could have been there with you Tasuki." he whispered into the binding. And he wished he were still there instead of rotting in a foreign world grasping at strings of his old life and his old memories. With the illusion of destiny and forever dashed away, he saw clearer now than he had seen while he was still in Konan. He really did love Tasuki. If his miko wasn't the center of his world, he would have been there still and maybe Tasuki would be alive, maybe they would have both died that day. If he would have listened to the multiple warnings about Miaka's wish not being granted; maybe they would have realized earlier that they wouldn't last...

Tamahome stopped his mind. There was no use thinking of it that way. He was here, she had left him and Tasuki was gone. Those were the facts and nothing was going to change them. But Terry...There were just too many coincidences, too much attraction and pull, too much of his abandoned fate to put it aside.

Tamahome got up suddenly and dove for the phone book. Chiri. It's not a common name, and she has to live around here to be close friends with him. He'd find her and confirm his suspicions before he tried to sort out exactly why and what he felt for Terry.

00

Terry slumped onto the couch in his mother's Osaka house. It felt cold and lifeless, as if the entire building was simply plastic and for show instead of being a home.

Having spent the night with Chiri and letting her console him in her motherly way, he'd left the following morning and run to Osaka as quickly as he could. He knew no one in the countryside, and so could make a fresh start, beginning with the appointments that he'd made.

Three separate appointments for one overall change. He was going to cut the mop of hair his mother had been complaining about for years, hoping to hide the fact that he saw himself as Tasuki in the mirror. He didn't need any reminders of Tamahome and what they had almost had. Followed by a visit to a tattoo parlor where he'd have the tsubasa covered up with something else, and lastly, he'd go to the small vacant building where he was planning to open a small, private studio.

Unfortunately for his mother, he would not be teaching ballet.

Lugging himself off of the couch, he proceeded to start his day.