Ashes Fade Away

*(5/?)

By Sakata Ri Houjun

Content:  Finally some Tasuki and Chichiri

interaction!

********************

It too a good amount of prodding, but Genrou had

managed to coax the mage he'd been left with to follow

him.  Even then, nothing seemed to bring the man out

of his silence.  Genrou had tried every subject and

distraction he could think of to get the man to talk,

but he felt like he was carrying on the conversation

with himself, an erratic behavior that was more

attributed to Kouji.

Now they stood beneath one of the structures built

into the treetops, the rope ladder leading up hanging

nearby.  This was Genrou's quarters and he hated to

admit that he was feeling oddly nervous.  Would this

quiet, beautiful man refuse should he invite him up?

"This is where I live," he shrugged his shoulders

nonchalantly as he took a hold of the ladder.  "I don't

suppose ya want to see it?"

Genrou's heart pounded fiercely at the mage who just

stared, at least that's what the redhead assumed. 

But then again, Genrou didn't need to see perfectly

within his mind those hidden features that had caught

his eye and stilled his breath.  He would give

anything to see that face again.

After several silent moments, Genrou shrugged and

pulled himself up the ladder.  "Didn't think so," he

muttered and then paused to glance once more at

Chichiri.  "I just wish ya'd say something, you know. 

Ah, screw it.  Goodnight."

Without waiting for the response he knew would never

come, he continued to climb.  With a small grunt, he

heaved himself through the opening into the shadowy

darkness of his room.  He then peered back down to see

if the robed mage was still there, but he was gone.

Genrou sighed as he fumbled in the dark for his

lantern.  First, he barked his shin against the chest

which sent his stumbling straight into his hammock

which hung nearby.  He let out a long string of curses

as he disentangled himself only to then locate the

blasted thing sitting nearby.

He lit the oil-coated wick and looked up to notice an

odd shadow thrown across the wall.  Reaching for his

dagger with his free hand, he faced the intruder and

found the mage standing calmly before the balcony.  He

blinked a moment, startled, and then flashed fangs in

a grin.

"Knew you couldn't stay away.  How'd ya get up here? 

Magic?"

Chichiri did not answer, but instead turned to face

the night sky outside.  Genrou put down the lantern and

moved to stand beside Chichiri.

After a slight pause, he leaned in to the mage.  "The

view's best around sunset.  Although the sunrise is

pretty damn impressive too.  You ought to see it."  He

didn't mean to make it sound that obvious, but if it

got a response from the stoic sorcerer...

Genrou pursed his lips when he didn't respond and

shrugged his shoulders.  "You can say

something...anything.  I promise that I won't bite."

He felt his body beginning to slump in defeat as he was

about to give up when there came a barely audible

whisper.

"Why?"

Genrou's heart skipped a beat.  He didn't want to

think it was merely his imagination.  "What did you

say?"

"Why?  Why are you behaving this way?  Do you realize

that I had every intention of killing you?"  His voice

was slightly louder but still soft.

Genrou closed his eye, letting the sound of the mage's

voice roll against his skin, and then nodded to

himself.  He knew just where those bolts had been

aimed.  "I don't hold it against you, if that's what

you mean."

He heard the mage sigh and opened his eyes to see his

head bowed forward.  "I don't understand."

"What's there to understand?"  He reached over and

placed a hand on one shoulder.  "Life has taught me to

respond to each situation and just take what comes at

ya."

The mage fell silent again but Genrou didn't want to

end their conversation.  "What's your name?"

Chichiri jerked, a little shocked.  "Why do you want

to know?"

Genrou shrugged again.  "Do I need a reason?"

There was another pause before he heard the robed man

sigh again.  "Chichiri."

Genrou grinned, liking the progress he was making. 

"Can ya do me a favor Chichiri?"

A small smile quirked to the older man's hidden lips. 

He knew that this flame-haired youth had wanted

something, everyone had secret motives.  How simple it

would be to ignore him and leave, but he found himself

nodding in response.

"I don't think there's anymore reason to hide.  You

can remove your hood."  He felt Chichiri stiffen at

his request and was afraid that he had pushed a bit

too far.

"Why?" came Chichiri's soft voice again.

"Why not?" Genrou insisted.  "I've seen your face and

we're alone now.  What have you got to hide?"

Chichiri shook his head at Genrou's stubbornness.  "My

face..," he trailed off, unsure of how to put his

shame and torment into words.

"I've seen worse."  That blunt answer shocked the

mage, freezing whatever explanation he tried to form. 

"And besides, if I didn't know any better, I'd say

you're hiding something else."

Chichiri spun to face the rogue.  "How would you know?

 It's not like you could comprehend."  His voice was

laced with pent-up frustration and hurt.

The redhead merely gave a bitter laugh as he moved to

sit in his narrow hammock.  "Everyone here carried

their own scars."  Genrou suddenly seemed sad and

distant as he sighed.  "We all have reasons for our

actions, even you.  I'm certain that's why you hide. 

But there's no reason to, at least not anymore."  He

shrugged.

Chichiri longed to change the uncomfortable subject

and decided to voice the question inside his mind. 

"How is it you knew where my attacks were being

aimed?"

"Your hands.  And to tell ya the truth," he started as

he unbuckled his daggers from his legs.  "I had every

intention of killing you too."

"Why didn't you kill me then?"

Genrou sighed as he then moved to remove his ebon

boots.  "Let's just say I wanted to know yer story."

"My story?"  Chichiri was clearly confused by the

rogue's actions and demeanor.  What could this young

man possibly want from him?

"Your scar."  There was no sense in beating around the

bush.

Chichiri pondered the red-head's words a moment and

Genrou was certain that in a flash of magic, the mage

would be gone.  Instead, the older man reached up and

pushed back the heavy fabric covering his head.  The

flickering lamplight cast harsh shadows about his

face, making the scar stand out prominently.  It

seemed out of place and yet still a part of it

nonetheless.

Genrou smiled gently, a blush coloring his cheeks. 

"You're beautiful..," he murmured before he could stop

himself.  "I-I mean..."

Chichiri turned his head, the shock of hair

effectively covering up the intense heat that rushed

to his own face.  "No one has ever said that before,"

he said, keeping his expression and voice as placid as

possible.

"Then I guess that no one had ever seen what I see

now."  Genrou stood and began to cover the distance

between them.  

Chichiri glanced up and met his golden eyes, seeing

them shimmer with something different than what most

held in their gaze at his appearance.  He was used to

pity, fear, and indifference.  What he saw was soft

and welcoming.  He furrowed his brow.

"And what do you see?" he asked, heart racing...in

fear?  Or was it something else?

"Sadness...  Pain...  Strength..."  Genrou stopped two

feet from where Chichiri stood.  "Beauty..."  

His hand reached up as if he were drawn to the

azure-haired man.  Perhaps he was, like a moth to a

flame or more perhaps it was more magical than that. 

It had certainly felt that way ever since he had first

laid eyes on that scarred visage, an indescribable

magical urge that needed no explanation or reason.

Genrou's fingertips were scant inches from that healed

tissue when Chichiri suddenly jerked back, fear etched

all over his face.  His single mahogany eye quickly

darted wildly around the room, unseeing save for the

phantoms in the mage's mind.  His breath came out in

quick gasps as he brought a trembling hand up in an

attempt to cast a spell.

The red-head moved quickly and took the mage's hand in

his, a gentle squeeze bringing Chichiri back to

reality.  His face and body visibly relaxed until he

realized that Genrou held his hand.  Before he could

snatch it away, the rogue let it go.

"Genrou..," Chichiri whispered, a little breathless. 

"Why?"

"I'm sorry..."  Genrou looked at the floor as he began

backing away.  He then cleared his throat.  "I guess

since Kouji gave up his bed to the princess, he'll be

crashing here.  I don't know if you want to stay... 

It will be kinda crowded..."

"I can find a place on my own, Genrou."  Chichiri

turned to head to the exit, apparently dismissing the

awkward moment as if it never happened.

"Chichiri?"  Genrou's voice caused the mage to pause

in his hasty departure and the redhead took a cautious

step towards him.  "Do me one more thing.  Don't call

me Genrou.  It ain't my real name."

"What should I call you?"  Chichiri glanced over his

shoulder and the two locked eyes.

"Tasuki."

Chichiri tilted his head.  "Goodnight...Tasuki."  And

he stepped through the opening, almost jumping.

Tasuki scurried over and peered down into the

darkness.  Scant firelight from the dwellings nearby

lit the mage's features, giving him an almost ethereal

appearance as he looked up to meet the rogue's gaze.  

Was it his imagination, or was Chichiri smiling at

him?

Then the azure-haired man replaced his hood and walked

of.

Tasuki sat back on his heels and let out a long,

shaking breath.  "Chichiri," he murmured.  "I don't

know how or why, but I think I may..."

Yep, magic...

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Next chapter:  'Little' comfort.