Anime/Manga Fan Fiction >> Fushigi Yuugi
The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.
Please see the Terms of Service for more information.
Another sandbag is thrust into my hands. Wordlessly, I
pass it on to the next villager in the long line. Desperately, the village is trying to block the
raging flow of water that threatens to over whelm us. Dimly, I can hear the shouts of the leaders
who are tirelessly trying to push us on, to encourage us so that we do not despair, and to keep us
going despite the incredible odds.
It is too late for me. I have already given up. As the
unending train of sandbags crosses my path, being hastily handed from hand to hand, arm to arm, I
cannot help but run the scene over and over again in my head. I can feel the shock and surprise,
mixed with a little bit of anger sweeping over me as he kissed me. My stomach clenches again at the
very memory. And, Suzaku, I can see his face as he looked upon us, the pain so terribly evident.
He didn't speak then, but walked away, the little gift he had brought for me silently slipping
from his hand. He was always so terribly kind to me.
He did not speak to me that day, or even
that night-not until the next day. I could not find out where he was-I was barely able to speak
I hit Hikou that day-Hikou, my friend since childhood-for what he'd done to me
that day, for what he'd done to all of us. He'd destroyed everything, nothing would ever be the
same again. How could I face dear Houjun now, after what had happened.
I do not know if Hikou
had seen him that day or if they'd talked. Perhaps I did not seek him out because I didn't know
what to say. Some part of me blamed myself for what had happened; perhaps I had seen it coming and
had not stopped it. That voice, that annoying, painful voice reminds me of that now.
I hear the shouts grow louder, and as I emerge from my recollections somewhat, I can vaguely make
out people running past me, some calling for me to run with them. I do not.
I stand here,
frozen, halted by thoughts and feelings I cannot escape. Tears run down my face, mixing with the
rain that is pelting down on me. I shake with cold and wrenching emotion; my stomach clenches even
tighter and I think I am going to be sick.
I can see myself huddled in the corner, him standing
behind me, not knowing what to say. I sob uncontrollably, trying desperate to form an apology that
I know can never be sufficient. I tell him that I cannot marry him. He does not wait to hear my
I am no longer worthy of him.
Aimlessly, I wander, not caring where I go. The
fields are deserted, the people have fled. I walk alone among the rain-swept bushes, some almost
uprooted by the floodwaters. The ground is muddy, and my feet drag along, it growing more and more
difficult to find the strength to move them.
Somewhere a little ways away, I can hear the sounds
of fighting. I wonder who it is.
I stop before the river. I stare into its murky depths and
lose myself in them. Its icy waters are black with the flood and its swirling depths are
unfathomable. Inexplicably I feel myself drawn toward it. Its intensely strong current is pulling
me toward it and I stand upon its banks, staring down into the water, cold spray hitting my face.
I feel myself falling forward, pushed by the wind, pulled by the water, and I am hard-pressed to
resist it. Fresh tears stain my face, but are almost unnoticeable between the heavy rain and the
spray from the river. I cannot forgive myself, no matter what I think, so why should he? I have
betrayed him, hurt him, he who has never hurt me nor anyone I can ever think of. I love him, yet I
allowed myself to be kissed by another, just as we were to be married.
The image of the river
fades and instead I can see myself beneath the raging waters. Suddenly the river looks so calm and
peaceful. The roar of the water has diminished and a strange sense of calm overcomes me as I gaze
into its black depths. I could go there, safe from myself and the guilt that I must face. I could
wait for him there.
I fall into the sweeping current. The icy water surrounds me instantly,
drawing me beneath its surface. I am immediately wet, soaked to the bone, and the cold begins to
sink into my body. I feel numb all over, and soon I feel nothing at all.
The water is so dark,
not like it has been whenever I've been in it. Yet dimly, I can see a shadowed figure just before
me. The currents have carried along so many things, yet I see this one so clearly.
take his hand, and somehow all is forgiven. In death, we shall wait for him, our dear Houjun, and
once his destiny is done, we shall all be together again.
Owari no da ^_-
Back to no da.
Back to the no
These fanfics are ?1998, Kichiri, the Temple of the Blue
Dragon. Please do not use them without her express permission or she'll be forced to use her razor
fans on you, or something even worse (Miaka sings, you know...) no da.
All characters from the
various series are the property of their various legal owners and no infringement on said right is
intended by the fanfiction presented above. Please don't sue me; I'm only a priestess no da. ^_^;;
Kichiri, when she appears as a character rather than a representation of the author, is the
creation of Kiku/Kichiri and is not to be used, slashed, or written into some scary fanfic without
the express permission of the Temple of the Blue Dragon. That, and it'll really tick her off. ^_^
[Return to Top]
The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.
Please see the Terms of Service for more information.