Part 3: One of Those Moments

Have you ever noticed that it always seems to rain whenever you plan to be outside? It's like there's a great cosmic rule that states "When clouds see someone preparing to do something fun outside, they must dump rain right on those people's heads." And the amount/temperature the of precipitation that falls will always be directly proportional to the amount of time that it took to plan the event. Or in some cases, how far the people in question are from shelter. So states Murphy's Law of Weather.

It seems that Murphy's Law is applicable every where, including Four Gods Sky and Earth. Never mind that there's a dragon god who you would think could control such things. It seems that there are some rules even the gods must follow. And anyways, Seiryuu seems like the type of god who would enjoy ruining certain people's days. Just call it a hunch.

High on that list of people that Seiryuu would most enjoy annoying, drenching, and just plain pissing off, are Suzaku seishi. And the great dragon god was doing all three when a very violent thunderstorm curtailed Chichiri's and Tasuki's annual trip to the palace at Konen-koku.

Of course, the two were already late. Normally, they would have gone sometime during the summer when it was warm. And dry. But due to certain, ahem, revelations the trip had gotten postponed to last possible minute in early winter. With this in mind, the two tried to continue on to the palace despite the freezing rain. However, when the road they were following became nothing more than a river of half frozen mud, they decided to put off the trip for the year until the weather became a little less soggy.

Needless to say, neither the monk nor the bandit was happy about having to take shelter in an old house that probably hadn't been lived in since the first dynasty. Tasuki because he was wet, cold, hungry, and just plain ornery. Chichiri, on the other hand, had a distinctly different reason for not wanting to be alone with the fire haired bandit.

It had been three months. Three months since Tasuki had brought up the conversation about Hikou. Three months since he had come to the conclusion that his friend, and fellow seishi, might not see him as just a "friend." Three months of doing everything humanly (and occasionally magically) possible to make sure they were not alone together so that he would not have to find out if what he suspected was true or not.

Chichiri knew is was cowardly to keep running from the problem. He didn't care. And the rational part of his mind knew that he was going to have to face this problem some day, that ignoring it would not make it go away. The irrational part of his mind was still hoping to put the discussion Chichiri knew he was going to have to have with Tasuki off as long as possible. Preferably, sometime after he died.

"This place is a mess, ne Chichiri? I can't believe that it started raining that hard, or that the weather turned so cold that quickly. I mean it's only... well @#$%, it is late enough in the year for it to be winter. I wonder if we'll get any snow? Time sure does fly when you're having fun," Tasuki said as he set about gathering enough wood to start a fire. Chichiri just looked over at the bandit, and refused to comment.

While Tasuki set about doing his share of the work to make the old house livable, he kept up the one sided conversation with himself. He had grown use to hearing his own voice because Chichiri rarely spoke to him anymore. The bandit filled the silence with his talk so he wouldn't have to acknowledge the fact that his friend was slowly withdrawing from him. There were times when he could be downright dense, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that he was losing his best friend, but he didn't know why. Or how to stop it.

Dinner was a tense, cold thing of trail rations and one sided conversation. Chichiri couldn't help but withdrwl, having no idea how to deal with what was before him. It was easier to just let the friendship seem to fall apart for other reasons rather than the ones he thought were there. Finally, the two Suzaku seishi fell asleep, never guessing at what would happen the next day.

"I can't believe it snowed!" Tasuki said as he bounded out of the old house into the white drifts. they had just gotten up and opened the door to discover the rare white stuff had coated the ground. Chichiri watched as the bandit flopped down in the wet snow like a over grown child. Huge flakes stuck to his clothes and hair, and soon the bandit proceeded to roll around in the small drifts. Then he looked up at Chichiri with serious amber eyes.

"Aren't ya going come over here and play?" Tasuki looked disappointed as the monk shook his head no. Chichiri almost relented, when the bandit's disappointment turned to hurt. The bandit huffed a little, and then shrugged his shoulders, trying to play off the hurt he felt at Chichiri's rejection.

Chichiri knew it seemed like he was avoiding the bandit, which he was, but it wasn't because he didn't want to be with Tasuki anymore. The bandit was the only person who understood what it was to be a Suzaku seishi, the only person who had gone through the same things he had. In fact, it wasn't even like Tasuki was acting any different than before. He was the one who was destroying their friendship.

Feeling vaguely ashamed at his behavior, Chichiri turned to go back inside the old house. Maybe if he couldn't accept Tasuki for who he was, maybe he didn't deserve to call the bandit friend. With that depressing thought, the monk opened the door.

And was smacked right in the back of the head with a cold, wet snowball. He stumbled forward into the cabin, his balance upset by the impact. The heat from the cabin partially melted the snowball, and cold slush slid slowly down the back of his neck and into his shirt. Chichiri stepped back out of the cabin, and turned to face Tasuki.

"What?" Tasuki asked innocently. Chichiri said nothing, simply walked forward, gathered up a double hand full of snow, and fashioned it into a rough snowball. The bandit cringed as he straightened up, expecting to hit at any moment. The monk looked at the snowball, up at Tasuki, then back at the snowball. Then he turned back toward the cabin to go inside.

Or at least it appeared that way to Tasuki. In reality, Chichiri was melting the snowball a little between his hands, then exposing it to the cold air. That caused the snowball to refreeze, making it harder and easier to aim with. Then he whirled around and took aim.

The red headed seishi was turned sideways when a cold, hard snowball sent him sprawling into the snow. He looked up, shocked, to see Chichiri gathering more snow for another snowball. With a fanged grin, Tasuki soon followed suit.

What followed was a massive snowball fight. It had gone on for about an hour, until both participants were so cold they were shivering, and still it continued. Sometime during the fight an errant snowball had knocked the monk's mask off into one of the drifts where it disappeared. Finally, in a desperate attempt to stop the fight, Chichiri tackled Tasuki to the ground.

The two rolled in the snow a couple of times, until both were covered in slowly melting flakes. Finally, Chichiri was stretched above Tasuki, his wrists pinning the other seishi's to the ground. The strands of the monk's hair were plastered to his face by the melted snow, and he absently wished that he had a free hand to get them out of his face. He couldn't understand how he had managed to pin the bandit considering Tasuki was much stronger than he was. Why would his friend let him do that?

Chichiri looked down, meeting Tasuki's golden eyes with his own. And froze. They both stared at each other, in the snow, neither aware of the passage of time. Both were breathing heavily from exerting themselves in the snowball fight, and their breaths formed twin plumes in the cold air. As they looked at each other, Chichiri had the insane impulse to lean down and... and... kiss...

Abruptly, Chichiri let go of Tasuki and threw himself back into the snow. The bandit slowly sat up as the monk watched him, wild eyed, shivering more from the shock of his own thoughts than from the cold. There was a question in those amber eyes, but Chichiri couldn't tell what it was asking.

"Gomen, Tasuki-kun. I didn't... gomen nasai. I don't know... I... daa!" The last was said as Chichiri leapt to his feet, and raced back into the old house. Tasuki sat there in the snow a little while longer, thinking, until the cold became too much to bear. Then he got to his feet, found Chichiri's mask among the drifts, and entered the house.

*****

DA!! It's done. Actually, this has been done for some time and I'm only finally getting around to putting it up. Last semester was NOT a fun semester. I'm just beginning to get to my backlog of stuff to do. No conversation at the end of this thing, because I did most of the writing this time (while on cold medicine I might add), and will now be taking over the series. As always, characters are copyright to their respective owners, though the story idea is mine. Enjoy!
Susan


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