Nakago didn’t care if the other boy died, but I did.
Of course I never would have defied a direct order, but He didn’t say one thing or the other about it to me, so I was technically not disobedient. I was just trying to keep together the only family I had now, that was all.
I knew that this was a chance for me to become independent, to release myself from the burden of responsibility, but I wanted that responsibility. I wanted to prove to Him that I can be capable, trustworthy, loyal. And I didn’t want to lose the only thing in the world that cared about me even just a little.
He told me Himself where He sent the boy. He had asked for me to come to Him. I suppose it was to let me know that I was no longer in disgrace. It was sweet of Him, in a way, to try to get rid of the thing that was most troubling me. But at the same time, I know it was wrong of Him to do such a thing to Suboshi. It’s just sometimes that He’s so kind to me that He forgets to be kind to other people.
I knew Suboshi was in trouble because I could sense his injuries. It was stupid of him to attempt such an endeavor, especially without preparing with me beforehand, but nobody ever accused him of having too much foresight. I should never have allowed him to go in the state he was in. That is, if I had known, I wouldn’t have allowed it.
I was in a good mood that day because He had favored me with His presence, so I decided to present myself to the Suzaku seishi with a bang. Instant travel is one of my favorite powers. There was lightning. It was wonderful. I wasn’t technically supposed to announce my existence just yet, but I was feeling fairly confident in myself and decided that it was worth a little change in the Plan to save Suboshi, although I knew I might be punished for it later.
The one called Tamahome was uttering some sort of dire threat when I arrived. I grabbed Suboshi and leapt to the roof above the Suzaku.
“Really, you tried this before you were ready, Suboshi,” I scolded, clutching his half-dead body. Fighting Tamahome, what was he thinking? He should have just stopped with the family. And there was another seishi there, too—a girl. Who knows what she could have done to him? There was blood all over; Suboshi was really a mess. I don’t think he was in any condition to understand what I was saying.
Tamahome demanded to know my name. “You’re Seiryuu…?”
“Seiryuu Seishi Soi!” I cried dramatically. “And that was just to say hi.” I smirked. “It looks like you’ve boosted your powers, Tamahome. Is that just because your family was killed?”
As Tamahome lunged forward, the girl seishi grabbed him from behind and growled his name in warning. Their miko just stood there crying in fear. How pathetic.
“Control your power until we meet again,” I laughed at them.
“Don’t run away!” Tamahome started to yell angrily. But by the time he finished, we were gone.
I have to admit, I handled that very well.
Suboshi was pretty angry. I really wanted to slap him across the face to make him stop pouting, but considering that he was under an unreasonable amount of stress, I just closed my eyes and prayed for patience. He refused to speak, which was fine with me, because I was sure that if he started whining, I would totally lose it and flay him alive or something.
I decided not to spend any time thinking about Tamahome's family. The damage to my family was more immediate.
I thought it wouldn’t be wise to involve anyone else in this dismal little charade, so I washed and dressed Suboshi's wounds myself and put him to bed. Healing is actually something that I’m good at.
Or at least, I used to think so. Now I’m not sure… I used to be able to feel good whenever I could do something useful like that, but He has shown me how all of my skills are mediocre matters for which I am not necessary. I know that I’m particularly disposable, and I accept that. But I wish… I really wish… that I could be needed for something.
I locked Suboshi's door from the outside and told the servants to give him whatever he wanted. And also to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t do himself any permanent injury. It’s ridiculous when he gets like this, it really is. It’s a wonder he hasn’t tried to slit his own throat. Not that I blame him; it’s not like the world is a wonderful place to be or anything. But I can’t let him to stuff like that. If he does a half-ass job and makes himself a liability to our side, heads will roll. And my head will be first.
Nakago didn’t ask to see me for quite a while after that. It was horrible, walking around in a daze, wondering if He were angry with me, worrying about Suboshi. I didn’t want to visit him because I was afraid of getting in even more trouble. But when one of the servants came and told me that he was refusing food, I thought I’d better.
How dare he? That little brat has no idea what I go through for him. I save his life and then he throws it away again by refusing to eat?! I really wanted to smack him, hard.
He was still refusing to speak. It was a little overdramatic, but it made me sad, so I couldn’t bring myself to yell at him. We sat together for a little while.
“You need to eat,” I said.
He just nodded, staring at the ceiling in utter apathy.
“You know,” I added, appealing to a higher authority, “Nakago isn’t going to let you keep this up much longer.”
He nodded again.
There was no point in saying anything else, so we just stayed there in silence for a while, he staring up at the ceiling, I looking out the window at some sort of dead flower-bearing bush, both of us taking glum satisfaction in the ugliness of the world. When you’re unhappy, it hurts a little less if the rest of the world is unhappy, too.
Suboshi squeezed my hand as I got up to leave, so I smiled at him, not trying to hide the pain that was in me.
More than anything, I wanted to see Nakago, but the idea made me fearful all through my body.
I kept wondering what it would feel like if I stabbed my chopsticks into my neck. I couldn’t imagine that it would hurt. All I could imagine was that magnificent “pop” as the skin gave way and they plunged in, and then the blood as it dribbled down my throat and over my breasts. Does blood steam hot if it’s cold out?
I knew it must hurt, but whenever I imagined it, it didn’t. Or maybe it’s just that it didn’t hurt compared to the pain in my face already. There was a deep, throbbing pain there—maybe two inches deep—and it made my face so heavy; it was all I can do not to just close my eyes and fall over, face forward, into a bed or a rock or the river.
People would see and ask questions if I did anything to my neck, and I didn’t want to use energy in explaining. But I just couldn’t keep my hands still, and I couldn’t stand to feel the dull throbbing with no distraction for relief. So I scratched at my arms instead. That’s a good place because you can always explain scratches there, or just cover them with sleeves.
I don’t know why I do it, exactly. It relieves tension, I guess. Anyway, it distracts me from all of the other pain I feel, and it reminds me that I am alive, I am capable of feeling something besides the numb sadness that’s always there.
Nobody else is like this, none of the other girls, not even Tomo. There’s something wrong with me. I should be stronger than this. I’m so weak, to just give in like this to the fear and the sadness that seep up out of my heart. Nobody else has this problem, so what’s the matter with me?
I’m permanently damaged. Nobody will want me, ever. Who would take a girl who’s been used and beaten and grown to like it? Who would take a girl who scratches and burns her own body? A girl who can’t even take care of the people she’s supposed to be directly watching over? A completely useless, ugly, washed-out, used-up girl with no innocence and no charm? People don’t want me, they don’t love me. If people pay attention to me, it’s to drive me out. Even the people who acknowledge my existence wouldn’t protect me if I were in danger. Either they wouldn’t care, or they’d be too afraid of whomever it was that was trying to hurt me. Nakago loves me more than anyone else ever will; He loves me too much, more than I’m worth, and even that… isn’t very much at all.
The kind of girl that people want to love is a girl like Suzaku no miko. She’s young and beautiful and instinctively believes in human decency. She makes you feel powerful because you have to take care of her. I wish I could make the world safe for people like her. I wish I could have made the world safe for people like Suboshi and Seiryuu no miko and the little girl that used to be me. I’ve been destroyed, but at least I could protect the innocence that’s still left in this world, maybe even make it possible for children to grow up believing in things like inner goodness and hope.
I don’t believe in those things any more. They’re meaningless. Change isn’t possible. But maybe, if somebody else could believe… If things could work out so that there was just one person in the world who could live a life in innocence, never being forced, like I was, to stop trusting others, to stop believing that things will get better… If there were only one person like this, I could maybe keep going and not die of despair. But of course, it can’t be Suzaku no miko, because Nakago is working to destroy her, and I will always follow Him, even when He is wrong. That’s what love means.
I’m not stupid enough to believe all that about Konan wanting to invade Kutou, you know; Nakago should save lies like that for people who actually believe in integrity, like maybe the twins. I’m not sure what we’re after, but it’s probably more power for Him. You can judge me; I’m already too far gone to pay attention to things like morality. Like I said, that’s what love means.
~*~
He did ask for me, eventually, but it seemed that He had forgotten about the entire incident, and I had been afraid for nothing. I was relieved, but afraid to act relieved, because it might remind Him that He really ought to be angry with me.
We were going to Hokkan, and He asked me to make sure that everyone was ready. I was excited about the responsibility—it meant that He trusted me.
There was no problem with Miboshi. He’s creepily ascetic. Tomo, on the other hand, insisted on taking several hours to pack. What a materialist! He’s pickier about his things than any girlfriend I’ve ever had, but then, he’s probably uglier than any girl I’ve known. We had a shouting match about how much time he would have before we had to leave.
“It wasn’t my decision!” I yelled. “I don’t pick the times and dates around here!”
“Well, you still should have told me earlier!” he shouted back through the door. “If you were a little better organized, you would have known yesterday and you could have told me then!”
I hate Tomo. He knows exactly how things work here, and yet he insists on believing that every problem is my fault.
The fight made me feel sick. I had had a headache all day, and now I felt dizzy and wanted to throw up.
Suboshi only has like eight items in the entire world, so he shouldn’t have been a problem, but when I got to his room, he was still in bed. Still! By which I mean, I don’t think he had gotten up out of bed for the last week or so, even though he was pretty much healed up.
He’s so lazy. Being depressed is not an excuse. Feeling guilty is not an excuse! I’m depressed and guilty, and I force myself out of bed every morning. I force myself through the long list of things to do. I force myself to get dressed and to pretend to be happy and to not lose patience with the idiots around me.
I pushed him out of bed onto the floor and started grabbing his stuff and shoving it into a sack. He looked up at me in confusion. He opened his mouth to whine, but I decided to take preemptive action. I was holding a thick coat that I had picked out for him, and I threw it in his face.
“We’re riding to Hokkan today,” I informed him, trying not to laugh at his surprised expression. “Get up.”
He pouted a little, but just a very little, so I left the rest of his packing for him to do himself and went to my own room. I probably had more to pack than Tomo, especially since it actually matters how I look, but since I’m a naturally organized person it didn’t take me very long to get things ready.
I didn’t eat anything that day. I often don’t eat. I like the way it feels to be hungry. It feels appropriate, like what’s going on in my body matches what’s going on in my soul. Kind of like what I said before about being sad and wanting everything else in the world to be sad, too. And it’s good to punish my body. I can tell it makes me stronger. Not physically, but spiritually. I’m getting more and more self-controlled every day. Sometimes I bang my head on the wall or walk around in the snow without shoes or pick up hot metal in my bare hands. I do these things because I know they will hurt, and I want to be able to force myself to do painful things. Also, I do them because they make it hurt less in my stomach and lungs and heart.
I was somewhat surprised to see that everyone was ready to go before noon. I had everyone at the gate, packed up, and mounted, and I had even managed to have enough time to go over the stores that the kitchen had sent with us. When Nakago arrived, I was happy to see that he looked pleased.
“Soi,” He said, beckoning to me, “I have something for you to do before we go.”
It was my very first (Nakago-sanctioned) mission. I was excited—I’d have a chance to support His work and go after that useless, syrupy Suzaku no miko at the same time—but I was also disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to travel with them. He explained that I’d catch up with them, and I felt a little better. I tried to hide my disappointment by smiling at Him, but He turned away.
I felt a little silly, beaming away at nothing.
It was fun planning my attack. These Suzaku warriors were really stupid occasionally, making themselves so vulnerable. I had to go over the information several times, because I just couldn’t believe they would be dumb enough to put six seishi and the miko in one ship all isolated in the middle of deep water with nobody experienced in charge. Did they not know that we have spies? What were they thinking? Maybe it was a trap.
I guess they just underestimated our desire to destroy them. And they definitely underestimated the power of Seiryuu seishi Soi.
Before he left, and at Nakago’s request, Tomo created an illusion for me. It was a tall set of cliffs that blocked any view of Hokkan from the sea. I went to a high peak and watched their ship from a long way away. They were the only people on the sea from horizon to horizon. I made a small mistake in the beginning. I forgot to mask my ki until I felt the presence of their sorcerer. Remembering how powerful he must be, I immediately withdrew and hoped he hadn't noticed.
Choosing the right amount of energy to use is an art. If I use too much, the final product is unrefined and hard to control, and I get exhausted much more quickly. If I use too little, not only will the effect be less potent, but my body will have to strain to hold its power back, resulting in, once again, exhaustion. I spent a moment meditating, then went through a couple of my favorite t’ai chi poses before I began.
The storm was wonderful. I’ve always liked thunderstorms. Other people hate them; they’re always saying things like, “What horrible weather today!” and “Well, it’s disgusting outside, but I suppose we need the rain…” Children scream and hide when they see the lightning and hear the thunder.
There’s nothing bad about a thunderstorm. It’s just made up of water and wind and fire and darkness and sound, and all of these are good things. Dangerous, yes. But what in the world is enjoyable that isn’t also dangerous?
I love storms. I love the way the damp darkness cools my skin. It wakes me up out of my listless apathy, giving me just enough energy to get through my day. Rainy days are always the best for me, as far as getting things done.
I laughed a little to myself, knowing that this storm, this powerful entity that was unreasonably feared by everyone else, was my ally.
“That thunderstorm will keep attacking the ship until it sinks,” I said to the Suzaku seishi, knowing they couldn’t hear me. Saying it aloud made it seem more permanent, more decided. “You’ll be nothing but flotsam in the ocean before you reach Hokkan.”
I couldn’t tell what exactly was happening on the ship, but I could sense confusion and, yes, fear. I think some of them fell off into the water, but I couldn’t be sure.
They floundered about for a while. I decided to let the storm work on itself: if you let a storm go, it’ll feed on itself and get bigger without you having to add more energy. Storms take a lot to get started, but for long-term attacks, they’re a great way to conserve ki.
Frustratingly, however, the ship didn’t crash, and none of the stupid seishi died. They even rescued the ones who fell in the water.
Time for more direct intervention! I let myself smile grimly as a bolt of lightning struck the ship in the center and flames burst out on deck. Next, I concentrated on the wind. I was standing at the top of a tall cliff, and I wanted them to hit it.
There was a loud crash as the boat hit the face of the rock. It should have been smashed up, but I could tell, now that it was close, that it was a very well made ship, probably one of Konan’s finest. I could hear them now, saying typically inane things to one another.
“I wonder what happened…?” said the girl seishi with the purple hair.
“Maybe… we all died…” answered the red-headed one with awe.
“Shut the hell up with your nonsense!” snapped Tamahome.
“Let’s go take a look,” suggested the weird-looking sorcerer in a calming tone.
I leapt down onto the deck. It was an excellent landing. I was proud of myself. I must have looked very, very impressive.
“Who…?” began Suzaku no miko, but I interrupted her.
“I must commend you for making it this far!” My voice rang out. “But… this is as far as you go!” I sent a bolt of lightning directly down at the miko, who was stupidly standing in front of the seishi who were supposed to be protecting her.
“Miaka!” cried Tamahome, but she avoided it just fine on her own.
“That was close!” she said, somewhat unnecessarily.
I raised an eyebrow. Perhaps she wasn’t quite as useless as sources had reported. “You dodged that well, Suzaku no miko,” I said, using the tone that Nakago uses to acknowledge competency in His enemies before He mows them down.
“That lightning…” said the miko, whose name was apparently Miaka. “Could that mean you’re…?”
Did they need it spelled out for them?
“One of Seiryuu’s shichiseishi, Soi!” I interrupted her. “Suzaku no miko, I will prevent you from reaching Hokkan at any cost!”
“Soi?” asked Miaka, missing the point. “You’re a woman?” Apparently, Suzaku no miko was blind as well as dim-witted.
Losing patience, I snarled, “I’ll eliminate all of Suzaku’s seishi here and now!”
I reached to hurl a bolt of lightning at her. As Tamahome yelled, “Miaka, watch out!”, I pinned all six of the seishi motionless with an energy shield of crackling lightning. Tamahome swore.
“Take a good look!” I taunted. “You’ll get to watch as your precious miko gets fried!”
I wonder sometimes if I’m any good at this sort of snide, mocking comment. I always feel self-conscious when I’m taunting people, like I’m lying about my identity, and I’m sure everybody can see through me. Taunting usually isn’t necessary to win, and it makes you look stupid if you lose, but if you don’t use it… Well, it wouldn’t do to ignore the importance of style.
“Hakuujinraiho!” I commanded my ki. The miko squirmed to get away. “Wriggling little worm!” I roared at her, narrowing my eyes.
She started talking nervously to herself under her breath and reached behind herself to grab… a sword. Even from several feet away, I could tell that it was well crafted and intricately carved. What a waste, I thought. Who gave a sword like that to a girl who can’t use it?
“Just you watch,” said Miaka with determination. “I’ll fight by myself!”
“Miaka, you idiot!” yelled Tamahome. “It’s not…”
“Hakuujinraiho!” I commanded again, but she dodged.
“You’ll get struck!” cried the sorcerer somewhat needlessly, breaking the apparent rule that only Tamahome gets to speak to the miko. I think the other seishi were too busy trying to squirm out of my attack to be able to speak coherently. They weren’t displaying much proficiency as far as the squirming went. No wonder Nakago sent me by myself. Anybody could take on these losers. Two of them hadn’t even spoken, much less done anything useful.
“Miaka!” screamed Tamahome again. Evidently he was very devoted.
Suzaku no miko held up the sword above her head, and as I threw lightning at her one more time, the sword absorbed all the energy.
“What?!” I couldn’t stop myself from saying out loud. There was no way I was going to lose this fight. Especially not to these idiots. It would be humiliating to know that I lost to incompetent children.
Ignoring Tamahome’s incessant shrieking of the miko’s name, I spoke under my breath in shock. “This can’t be! How can she still be standing after my attacks?!”
“Hotohori’s sword…” said Miaka, gritting her teeth.
“You impertinent little Suzaku no miko!” I cried, gathering up almost all the energy I had left. “This will be the final blow!”
As I hurled it toward her, it caught on the sword and came right back at me, landing like a spear of piercing heat in my chest. “Wha…?” I gasped, barely able to speak for the pain in my lungs.
“I can’t lose,” said Miaka. “No matter what!”
I really, really wanted to slap her.
As the pain and exhaustion forced me to drop the lightning barrier, the six seishi leapt toward me.
“Hold it!” snarled the redheaded one, glowering at me.
“Miaka!” cried Tamahome with relief and joy.
I quickly drew together all the energy I had left and vanished. I managed to transport myself close to where I thought Nakago and the others would be. Collapsing on the ground with utter fatigue, I examined my bruised and charred body. I could sense the others about a mile away, but I didn’t have enough energy to transport myself anywhere. I covered myself up in a pile of leaves, hoping no one would find me, and I slept on the ground.
~*~
I woke up before dawn, my body scrunched up and sore. There were bruises all over that hadn’t been there the night before, and some of my skin was actually charred. The energy that hit me would definitely have killed a regular person. If Suzaku no miko hadn’t had that stupid sword…
After practicing t’ai chi ch’uan, during which I discovered several new body parts that hurt—I started walking.
It was freezing outside, although there wasn’t yet snow. I really should have thought ahead. My typical outfit was definitely not warm enough for Hokkan. At least walking kept me somewhat warm, but it was hard to make myself keep moving. I kept feeling strange in my stomach—like hungry, but not exactly—and every time I caught a glimpse of the mountains in the distance, I wanted to die. They were so beautiful, and so big, and I knew then that I will never, never be anything so interesting or important. I’m just an ugly, normal, boring girl. Every time I had a thought like this, my feet stopped moving and I just stood there, staring at the beauty that hurt so badly.
But I was conscious of this silly phenomenon, and every time it happened, I forced myself to keep going. That’s what I do, right? Force myself to keep going.
As if to signify what kind of day I would have, the first person I met was Tomo. I’ve come to regard Tomo as a kind of bad omen. If I see him first thing in the morning, it means that the rest of my day will be horrible. It’s obviously a significant sign from the gods. I mean, really. What are the odds that I’d see him first? (Well, other than twenty percent. It’s not really one out of five because Tomo usually sleeps in and then hangs out in his room brooding.)
“You look like shit,” said Tomo pleasantly.
“Good morning,” I said through gritted teeth.
“And you’re in a good mood, too!” he cackled. “Glad to hear it.”
I briefly closed my eyes and sighed, refusing to let myself fry him alive. “Where is Nakago?” I asked.
“In his tent. I wouldn’t bother him, though. Because obviously you failed to defeat the Suzaku, and that’s going to put him in a really bad mood.” Tomo smiled as if this pleased him.
“What do you mean, obviously I failed?” I demanded. “You have no idea what happened.”
“Like I said,” he sniffed, “you look terrible and you’re crabby. Also you’re late.”
I went directly to Nakago’s tent, of course. I didn’t see anybody else on the way, thank heavens. I was tempted to visit the tent that had been set up for me and maybe brush my hair or something, but I couldn’t decide what would make Him angrier, to show up looking like a mess or to delay my report. It’s hard to make decisions when I feel like this, because I’m afraid of what will happen if I make the wrong choice, and somehow it takes so much more energy to choose.
I finally decided that it would be better to make my report immediately.
He was alone when I arrived. I felt terrible, having to look at Him and disappoint Him and tell Him that I’d failed Him. I made the most subservient bow I could and apologized over and over and over.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want Him to think that the reason I failed was because I wasn’t loyal, or because I didn’t care about His Plan, or because I didn’t love Him enough. On the other hand, I didn’t want Him to think that I was making excuses. So I wasn’t sure if I should give reasons for why I failed.
I didn’t dare ask for forgiveness, and He didn’t offer any. All I could do was apologize and apologize and apologize. He didn’t say anything, so what could I do but keep going?
He looked very tired, and He wanted me to help raise his ki. How could I refuse Him? Even when I looked like this and was so injured, He wanted me. Well, I won’t flatter myself; He wanted my help. But it comes down to the same thing in the end.
He’s the only person I like having sex with. It’s the only time I get to see Him show any emotion. Even Nakago can’t keep his expression completely blank in such a situation. As I said, I feel relatively confident about what I do. Even if I’m not good, I’m good enough. I think.
“You look hideous, Soi,” He said abruptly. I stopped nuzzling His neck and looked down at my naked body. He was right.
I think sometimes He starts talking in the middle of sex because it allows Him to keep his cool. It’s really creepy, though, and it’s somewhat difficult to focus on my technique if I have to make conversation.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized breathlessly, trying to concentrate on what I was doing. “The fight was pretty rough.”
“I don’t mean just that,” He said, lying motionless beneath me. “You look kind of flabby. Have you been letting yourself get out of shape?”
He mused, “Maybe that’s why the Suzaku defeated you.”
My eyes widened and I fought the panicky sensation in my throat. How could he think that? Was it true? Maybe it really was my fault. “I am sorry, Nakago,” I pleaded. “I didn’t think that the girl would actually have a holy sword.”
“Never mind,” he said with self-conscious generosity. “I’ll give you another chance.”
“But in this climate,” I babbled, a little hysterically, “a person from the West, such as myself, is at a disadvantage.” When He didn’t say anything, I added, “I’m sorry not to be able to serve you better…”
I was cut off by Suboshi hurtling in like there was a typhoon behind him. “Nakago-sama, I’m coming in!” he yelled, already halfway through the door.
I looked at him and blinked.
He looked at me and blushed.
Nakago looked bored.
Suboshi bit back a shriek and quickly turned around. “Sorry, Sensei!” he stammered. “Um, um, Yui-sama said she wanted to speak with you!”
“Tell her I’ll be there shortly,” said Nakago without embarrassment. “Soi isn’t feeling well.”
I couldn’t believe it. I was being punished, after all. Nakago wasn’t even going to acknowledge what just happened? He wasn’t going to yell at Suboshi? He was just going to ignore me and carry on business as usual, like I was a piece of furniture or something? Suboshi is like my child. I mean, I’m sure he knew that Nakago and I sleep together, but we’ve never discussed it. He never should have had to see something like that. He must have been traumatized.
Nakago must have really been disappointed that I failed Him, or He wouldn’t have felt the need to humiliate me like that. I mean, I know I deserved to be punished—I made mistakes—but I think maybe He wouldn’t have been so harsh if I had been able to make Him understand that my mistakes weren’t on purpose. I wish I were more articulate.
“We’ll be using Ashitare instead,” Nakago continued. Another slap in the face. I’d never met Ashitare, but Nakago had always seemed to think him fairly inept. He wasn’t going to let me complete my assignment? He was going to give it to incompetent Ashitare? He thought Ashitare was more capable than I am? I wanted to cry.
But I didn’t. I won’t, ever. That’s not my job. My job is to raise Nakago’s ki, and that’s what I do. I forced myself to continue, to see the whole awful situation through. And then I went back to my tent and curled up and wished I’d never have to see Suboshi again.