Do note: The following story contains VERY mild spoilers and takes place during/immediately after a scene from episode forty-four (or was that forty-three..?). Anyway, if you don't know anything about Suboshi or are extremely paranoid about spoilers, this story may be of no interest to you.
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"Suboshi, isn't it shaking a little?"
My eyes wandered down to the water where I was bathing. Ripples washed over my nakedness, one by one, each a reminder of the battle that was being fought elsewhere in the tower. I tried not to think of the battle, occupying my mind with finishing my bath. I didn't expect Suboshi had heard me or that he would have dignified the question with a response. Yet he did.
"It's all right." Suboshi's voice, softer than I had anticipated. I glanced back slightly at him. He was dutifully, if not shyly, turned away from me; all I could see was his back. I wanted to see his expression in order to gauge his reaction to the battle, but somehow I knew that if he had a reaction, it was one he wouldn't want me to see.
"The Suzaku Seishi won't make it here," he continued amidst the low rumblings from below. The water shook again and I shivered involuntarily. There was a part of me hoping that the quakes were all due to nature and not a battle, but I knew that was a childish hope.
I ran my hands diligently over my body, scraping away nonexistent dirt and grime. I was not entirely sure why I needed to bathe, but at once I was thankful for the opportunity. I didn't want to see Nakago; not at the moment. He would have seen through me in a second and told me to calm down and think of my revenge. Suboshi could be relied upon to not say such things. He was quiet and reserved around me, usually.
Not always.
I shut my eyes, recalling the kiss. The awkward, foolish kiss. It had been one of the worst moments of my life even though it should have been one of the best. It was the first time a man had -really- kissed me and I had hated it. Even though Suboshi had intended it to be a show of affection, it was a rough and painful experience. The sudden rush of thoughts revolving around it made me apprehensive about stepping out of the water. Should he try it again… I wasn't sure what to do. He was larger and stronger than I. Not that I didn't trust him… I suppose…
I just wasn't certain about him.
"We're finally summoning Seiryuu." Suboshi's voice broke the silence again. I reasoned with myself that he was bored and just trying to pass the time. Forcing myself to believe that, rather than being interesting in what I was doing, Suboshi was making a comment as simple as one on the state of the weather, I rose from the water and walked toward him. He handed back to me the cloth with which I was to dry myself. I took it from his hands and wrapped it around my body, shielding myself from him. I had expected to feel relieved once I was clothed, so to speak, but I was not.
"It's kind of surprising that things turned out this way," I said, realizing that I was making the same mistake Suboshi had by speaking. A smile crept across my lips. It was not a pleasant smile; rather, it was a wry, unhappy one that I wanted to wipe away, but which threatened to spill into hysterical laugh.
"Actually," I went on, mentally screaming at myself to shut up, "I'm a little scared."
My words were greeted with silence. I willed myself to think that this was for the best even though I knew I was falling into my own trap. I cursed myself.
And then I felt his arms around me.
He slid them over me, carefully. His movements were easy and methodical unlike the time he had kissed me. No longer an ungraceful boy, he had become almost angelic. His body was warm and muscular. I recognized with vague horror that I -liked- the feeling of those arms wrapped around me.
Or maybe that was just what he wanted me to think. Maybe he was just like them… those men. Maybe Suboshi was another monster, like so many others who had been monstrous to me. No one could have touched me with such kindness and warmth.
But that was precisely what he was doing.
"It's all right, Yui-sama." His whisper caressed my ear. "I'll stay like this until you calm down."
I didn't react. I held still, leaning into him and hoping he would keep his promise and stay like that for as long as I let him. I loved the feeling of his body against mine. I loved the sound of his voice. I loved knowing he was there for me.
I almost think I loved -him-.
But the trap continued to swallow me like a rabid beast.
"What I fear is myself," I told him, the wry smile devouring my countenance once more. "Maybe I'm doing something I'll regret."
He said nothing, but I knew he could relate to me. His grip tightened, the intensity of his expression deepened, and his heartbeat quickened. He knew what I was talking about even if he said nothing. I wondered how he knew - what he had done that made his body respond like that - but I was afraid to ask. I had seen his face darken before. There was an underlying violence to him. It was something that fascinated and appalled me.
"Perhaps it's too late now," I mused.
Still no answer. His silence suddenly was infuriating. I broke free from his arms, spinning around to face him. The eyes I found myself gazing into were my own. Deeply wounded, emanating a very private suffering that only someone who had experienced identical events could comprehend. I reached out to touch his face. He flinched, then softened as my fingers met his flesh. I stared at him, taking in every last detail. A part of me said that if I tried hard enough, I could imagine him as Tamahome. But I didn't want to see Tamahome. I wanted to see Suboshi.
Elegant, sweet, and uniquely beautiful, his face leaning against my hand. His own hand, larger than my own, reached up and took mine, pressing it against his cheek. I moved forward, all my thoughts on him. And in an instant I had kissed him. Delicate and almost invisible, but still a kiss. A shy, childlike kiss. His eyes opened, yet were narrowed to slits. He pulled me closer.
I pulled away.
Rather than the rage or frustration I had anticipated, he offered a nod. A simple acceptance that I was only a child, not ready for anything more than a brief exchange. He saw past all that I had done to him, to my friends, and to everyone else. I was not Seiryuu No Miko. I was just a fifteen year-old girl, still too young to embrace honest, pure emotions.
Oh, god, how I loved him for that moment.
FIN
Author's notes: I wrote this soon after I came across a website that referred to Yui as a "bitch" and Suboshi as the "EVIL twin." I refuse to believe either one falls into those categories. What Watase Yuu (the GODDESS of all goddesses so far as manga/anime are concerned) gave us with them are two characters who express their feelings often in very negative ways, but they do so because they love too much, not because they hate too much. Yui's infatuation with Tamahome was (in my eyes) a way for her to disguise her hurt over no longer being the most important person in Miaka's life. And Suboshi's… well… rampages, while not at all excusable, were his reaction to the loss of the one person he loved most and had thought would always be a part of him.
Yui and Suboshi are my favorite characters from FY… If I totally bastardized them, gave a fresh perspective on them, or wrote something you just consider a nice/crappy little story, e-mail me ([email protected]). This is my first venture into FY fanfiction, and probably my last, as well.
Thanks for reading!
Sarah Davis
17.6.99