Fushigi Yuugi: All In One

All my Fushigi Yuugi fic, in chronological order.

Copper and Candlelight

Yui tries to process what happened to her. Tetsuya is an exceedingly nice guy. Drama, I-2

Yui lay with her arms folded behind her head on the rumpled cotton of their quilt, staring up at the high, clear blue of the sky. “I wonder if he was just going crazy.”

Tetsuya pushed himself up on his elbows and slid his shades down to look at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“Seiryuu.” She wriggled her stockinged toes in the cool air. “He really shouldn’t have been able to do what he did, you know. I think that’s why all of us were so… deranged.” She flicked her fingers over the smooth, green paper cover of the book she’d brought to read today. “At least that’s what all the stories about gods say. When someone tries to do something at the wrong place or time it just twists.”

She looked over to see what Tetsuya thought of this theory. He was silent for a long moment, eyes dark and steady on her. Finally he reached up to move their picnic basket out of the way and slid an arm under her shoulders. She smiled and cuddled into the solid warmth of his chest. Tetsu was always warm; it was nice.

“It sure looked like everyone on his side was pretty messed up, yeah,” he murmured. “Tell me about what you’ve been reading?”

“Well, a lot of the stories themselves are in really old language, but I’ve tracked down some very good annotations.” A fact which pleased her. At a time when most of her tests, even in a middle range high school, didn’t make sense to her anymore, it was good to feel that familiar, sure grasp on words and thoughts.

“Who’d have ever thought you’d go into folklore,” Tetsuya chuckled. “So? What do they say?”

“Well, from the very start, with Izanami inviting at the wrong time…”


Tetsuya listened and nodded and twined a long, soft strand of her hair around his fingers. He worried about Yui. Keisuke’s little sister had lived her story and found an ending for it, and now she was walking on into her life. Yui hadn’t been so lucky. He wondered, sometimes, whether this story would ever end, for her.

So he held her close in the spring sunshine and listened to her retelling her story’s beginning and stroked his thumb absently over the smooth, blue stone in her ear.

End


Iron and Stone

Yui has to deal with some changes in what she wants out of life. Drama, I-3

For a moment, she thought the catch she felt in the long strands of her hair was just a blowing branch that had snagged; it was a hazard she was familiar with from the last time the fine, light stuff had been this long. She didn’t stop laughing at Miaka’s vigorous imitation of the stray cat she’d just adopted begging for food—just brushed her fingers back through her hair to free it.

She found other fingers under hers.

Yui’s hand raked down and she sprang forward and spun around, stumbling with the violence of her motion. The tall boy behind her, in some other school’s uniform, shook out his fingers.

“Wow, almost got me.” He smirked at her. “You should calm down and take a compliment better.”

Yui could feel her whole body stiffening, her eyes widening the same way her lips pulled back off her teeth. “Compliment?” Her voice was ragged in her throat and in her ears. She could barely feel Miaka’s arm around her shoulders.

The smirk didn’t change. “Yeah, be complimented that a man thinks you’re good looking—”

“Excuse me.”

Before Yui found out what the hot, wobbly feeling in her stomach would become, Tetsuya loomed behind the boy’s shoulder, pulled him around briskly and punched him in the face. Her breath left her explosively as he slammed down onto the pavement. Tetsuya adjusted his shades and moved her from Miaka’s protective embrace to his own. “Why don’t we find a tree to sit under?”

“Sounds good.” Taka didn’t spare a look down at the boy on the ground as he moved past, both hands full of the ices he and Tetsuya had gone to fetch. His mouth curled, though.

Yui managed a shaky breath of a laugh and nodded.


She sat on her bed, drawing her brush through her hair slow and careful. The gentle tugs helped erase the lingering feeling that something greasy was tangled in it. And she’d washed it twice tonight, already.

She sighed, resting the brush in her lap as she fingered the glossy sweep of her hair. There was no reason to still be so upset, was there? Miaka had been with her and Tetsuya had taken care of the boy; pretty definitely. That memory made her lips curve up for a moment.

And Tetsuya had promised her he’d always be there. And that did make her feel better. There was just this tightness lingering in her arms and stomach. She wanted…

She remembered the boy’s smirking face and her hand closed into a hard fist around the handle of her hairbrush. She’d had both hands in fists this afternoon. She stretched her fingers open and closed, looking down at them. Again that careless, self-satisfied face drifted across her mind’s eye and the tightness in Yui’s muscles snapped like a broken tie.

Her brush hit the wall hard enough to dent the plaster. She was on her feet, breathing fast and deep. Her fingers flexed and she could almost feel a throat in them, almost see that mocking smile wiped away.

She wanted to do it herself.

“Yui-chan? Are you all right?” Her mother tapped on her door.

One more breath to slow down. “Yes, Kaa-san, I’m fine. I just dropped something.”

The moment of expressive silence outside her door made her smile, if crookedly.

“All right, then. Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Yes, Kaa-san. Thank you.” Yui looked at herself in her mirror as she listened to her mother’s soft footsteps moving back down the hall. The glint of blue in her ear caught her eye and she stared at it, seeing another face now, hearing a smooth, reasonable voice telling her to destroy herself and two worlds to give that voice what he wanted. For a moment, she wavered; was it just more foolish selfishness? But…

“I don’t have to be a god,” she whispered, finally, “to not be a useless little kitten.”

She picked up her brush and wound her hair up off her neck and went to set the table with a firm step.


“Are you sure about this, Yui-chan?”

Yui smiled around her mouthful of hairpins and doubled her braid up out of the way. “I’m sure, Miaka. It’ll be fine.” Miaka’s worried eyes didn’t change and Yui stuck the last pin in a bit haphazardly and reached up to ruffle her friend’s soft bangs. “You have a boyfriend to go meet, silly; what are you hanging around here for still?” The worried eyes turned starry and Yui laughed. “Go on, I’ll be fine.”

She recited those words to herself as she stood in front of the judo club captain, trying not to feel incredibly overdressed in the dark green wool of the school uniform. “…and I realize it’s very irregular to enter a club after the start of the year, especially with no experience, but I would be very grateful if you would allow it, Arima-senpai.”

“Irregular is one way to put it.” Arima-senpai leaned against the cinder-block wall, arms crossed. “Why the switch, Hongou-kun? I can’t believe Mizuro doesn’t want you in the journalism club any more.”

A drop of sweat tricked down from her hairline to her collar and she wondered if she could get away with saying she wanted a cooler uniform. Arima-senpai’s rather rumpled white gi looked really comfortable in the heavy late summer heat.

Of course, the heat wasn’t the real reason she was sweating right now.

Her hands tightened on each other where she had clasped them in front of her. “I…” Only a little husky, she managed, “I want to be able to do this for myself.”

Arima-senpai looked at her for a long moment. “Hm.” Finally he unleaned from the wall and beckoned her out onto one of the mats. “Come here for a second, then. Now, I know you don’t have any training yet, but if I come at you like this, what are you going to do?” He took a long step toward her, suddenly looking a lot taller and larger, one hand reaching for the front of her blouse.

Electric tension crinkled down Yui’s spine and her arm flew across her body, hard and wild, striking his hand aside. Her toes clenched at the rough mat under her socks, and she felt like something had taken a key and wound her up too tight, even as Arima-senpai stepped back again.

“Thought so.” Arima-senpai sighed and ran a hand through his pale hair. “Come over here and sit and calm down, Hongou-san.” He herded her down to a bench against the wall without touching her. Yui blinked up at him. “Now listen.” He sat on his heels in front of her. “What you want isn’t this club. It probably isn’t even a dojo; not yet.”

“But…” She’d screwed up her courage to even try, and now he told her this?

Arima-senpai’s long mouth crooked. “Listen, I said. I don’t want anyone getting hurt in my club. Not you and not any of my other members, and right now you’d hurt anyone who startled you too bad. Or else they’d hurt you, defending themselves. So.” He held up a finger. “What you want to do, Hongou-san, is go and get a tire iron.”

She could have sworn he said something about not hurting anyone. “A tire iron,” she repeated, a shade weakly.

His grin was just a little evil. “Yeah. Get a tire iron and then go find an old tire in an abandoned lot, or something. And hit it with the iron as hard as you can, until you know what it feels like and you aren’t holding back anymore.”

Warmth ran through her muscles as she relaxed all at once. “Oh.” She thought about that and slowly smiled back.

“Better.” He patted her shoulder and stood. “And when you’ve done that for a while, if you still want to learn a form like this, come back then. Miyako-kun would probably like having another girl in the club.”

She stood as well, hands steady again, and bowed. “Thank you, senpai.”


Yui walked slowly down the hall toward the school’s front doors, wondering what to do now.

Besides find out whether Tetsuya had a tire iron she could borrow.

She had already turned in her resignation to Mizuro-senpai, and she’d had to decline enough requests to rethink it that she’d look like a total idiot if she came strolling back now. She really didn’t like looking like an idiot. It was moments like this when she wondered whether Miaka, who never even noticed looking ridiculous, didn’t have a better grip on how to live life.

“Ah, not another one! Aren’t there any sites about this that aren’t in English?”

Yui glanced aside into the computer room, a bit amused. The computer club seemed small this year; only two of her classmates and one third-year girl she didn’t know clustered around one of the tables.

“At least we know our page will be significant; that will get extra points,” the third-year said firmly.

“Doesn’t help us much if we can’t read this stuff to add it to our site,” Onosaka muttered, making a mournful face. Yui had to put a hand over her mouth to muffle a giggle; Onosaka was her most amusing classmate, even when he was grumpy.

The three of them looked up at the sound. “Hongou-san,” Suzukase greeted her, brows lifted a bit.

“Yui-san, just the person!” Onosaka cut him off, eyes gleaming. “You’re good at English, come help us translate this.”

The third-year cuffed him lightly across the back of the head. “Knock it off. Hongou has her own club work to be doing, stop trying to shove yours off on her.” She smiled at Yui. “Just ignore him.”

“I usually do,” Yui murmured, and hesitated. “I… don’t actually have club work today, though. If you did want a little help. I wouldn’t mind.” Wrestling with English would certainly take her mind off things.

The third-year sighed as two pairs of eyes fixed on her with wide, hopeful expressions. “Don’t think this gets you two opportunists out of any work,” she warned. “If we’re not imposing, we’d be very grateful for your time, though, Hongou.”

“Did Mizuro-senpai dismiss the journalism club already today?” Suzukase asked as Onosaka pulled up a chair for Yui.

“I’m… not with the club anymore.” She fixed her attention quickly on the screens in front of them to ward off any questions about why, and blinked. “That’s not English.”

“Hm? Oh!” Suzukase laughed. “No, that one is code.” He bestowed an exasperated look on the blocks of colored text. “Something’s wrong and I can’t tell what; I hope that, if I leave it for a bit, I’ll see the problem when I come back.” He tapped the turquoise case of the next computer. “This one has the site we’re trying to translate.”

Yui leaned back and took it one word at a time until she could put the title together. “Imported National… Cuisine?” Yes, that was what it said; how odd. “Britain and curry.” She looked at them, puzzled. “What are you working on?”

“Food!” Onosaka declared.

“An informative webpage on imported foods that become really popular,” Suzukase expanded, a bit dryly. “Imai-senpai thought of it. We wanted something unusual for our Computer Fair project.”

Fair enough. Yui pulled a piece of paper and a pen toward her. “Let me get down some of the keywords, then, so you can use them to search more.” As she prodded her brain toward the shape of English letters, though, something on the other screen caught her eye. It felt like stepping into a dip in the sidewalk, an unexpected jar. “Suzukase-kun,” she said, slowly. “Are there supposed to be two question marks there?”

Suzukase looked where her pen was pointing and spun back to face the screen of code. “No it isn’t! Line… forty-eight, yes, that’s it!” He banged on the table with a triumphant fist and tapped at they keyboard. “There, and…” the screen blanked and loaded what looked like a regular web page, “yes!” He beamed at her.

“You have a good eye, Hongou.” Imai-senpai rested her chin in her hand. “Did you say you weren’t with journalism any more?”

Yui nodded and had to stop herself from edging back at Imai-senpai’s suddenly shark-like smile.

“Onosaka, Suzukase, you two get back to work while I just show Hongou here a few things about code.”

Well, she had been wondering what she’d do now, Yui reflected as Imai-senpai pulled her around to the third computer at the table.

She hadn’t thought she still needed to be careful what she wished for.

End


A Brighter Shade of Red

Crossover of Saiunkoku Monogatari and Fushigi Yuugi. Shuurei has a friend and advisor who is apart from the capital’s politics; Yui has a place for her abilities and a lover who reminds her of them. Drama with Romance and Porn, I-4

Character(s): Hongou Yui, Kou Shuurei
Pairing(s): Shuurei/Yui

Yui curled up on the bed, one hand propping up her head, and watched Shuurei pace the room, sleeping robe fluttering around her ankles.

"And then! And then! He said we couldn’t do anything about Haruki, even if he is taking bribes, because he has a patron from the Heki clan, and I should know that the Heki are going to be the deciding voice in the land redistribution this year!" Her brown eyes snapped like sparks; Yui felt she might warm her hands at that fire of Shuurei’s, melt the ice out of her bones, where it had settled years ago.

In any case, she could help feed it. She pursed her lips, paging, in her mind, through the scrolls she had read—she’d thought at first just to have something to do. "Well, you know I haven’t gotten through as much of your historical law as I’d like, so there may be a contradictory precedent I don’t know about…"

Shuurei turned to her with wide, hopeful eyes, and Yui chuckled.

"The Heki own a lot of land rights outside their province, yes, but isn’t it all subsoil rights? If another block were to buy up the topsoil leases, then that would take effective control of the land away from the Heki, wouldn’t it? I’m sure I read about this just a little while ago."

Shuurei stood still, clasped hands pressed against her lips, eyes suddenly wide. "Oh. Oh yes. And then it wouldn’t matter how the redistribution went, because the usage rights would already be tied up. I wonder… if the Emperor could regain control of that land this way it would pull more power back from the great families… " She nodded decisively. "I’ll write to Uncle, tomorrow, about supporting that."

"Always thinking about the bigger picture." Yui smiled at her. "That’s why you’re a politician and I’m not." Actually, the political tangles here still made Yui’s head spin sometimes.

Shuurei snorted at this, impatient as always with anything that sniffed of self-deprecation. "Just one of the best law scholars in the capital. Even if almost no one but me knows it yet." Shuurei picked up her discarded hairbrush to finish brushing out her hair.

Yui shrugged, smiling. "I always thought I might want to go into law, when I was younger. I like having the chance to do it, now."

Shuurei looked over her shoulder, gentle now. "Maybe that’s why you came here."

Yui turned over on her back, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe. Who knows." Her mouth quirked. "Besides, possibly, Riou." Who she tried to stay away from. She dealt with mysticism even worse than politics, these days.

Shuurei sighed, running her fingers through her loose hair. "Riou came to talk to me again yesterday. He thinks I’ll stop caring for politics and such ‘little things’ sooner or later." She sat down on the edge of the bed with a glum sigh. "Probably sooner, according to him."

"I think he’s dreaming," Yui said dryly. "I’m grateful enough he placed me with you, when I first came here, but honestly. I can’t imagine you ever not caring about this." More softly, "About your people." It was one of the things that fascinated her enough to stay here with Shuurei—her care, her idealism and ruthlessness, each passing effortlessly through her hands in its time, like juggled balls.

Shuurei tangled her fingers together. "I can’t either," she said to them, "but… I’m…"

Yui silently cursed Riou for stirring up Shuurei’s doubts again. She reached out and pulled Shuurei down to her. "Shhh. Whatever your mother was, you’re you." She kissed Shuurei softly and smiled. "See?"

Shuurei laughed, finally relaxing, winding her arms around Yui. "I’m so glad you came," she said, muffled, against Yui’s shoulder.

"I think I am, too," Yui whispered into the darkness of her hair.

Shuurei leaned up on an elbow, eyes wide with mock alarm and sparkling. "You think? That won’t do at all!" She pressed closer against Yui and kissed her back, considerably more sensually, open and unselfconscious.

Yui made a soft sound, lips parting, hands sliding down the full curves of Shuurei’s body under the robe. "Going to convince me to be more enthusiastic?" she asked, husky.

Shuurei, who was always at her best with a challenge, downright grinned, hands busy with the tie of Yui’s sleeping robe. "I think so, yes."

Yui laughed. Having met Kochou she didn’t wonder any more at Shuurei’s boldness and humor about this. And then she moaned softly as Shuurei’s hands stroked over her skin.

She had never told Shuurei, and she never would, that whatever Shuurei’s heritage was, it did change her. Her hands reminded Yui a little, just a little, of being touched by a god, a glow of rightness and presence that wasn’t physical but still heated Yui’s body.

Just enough to calm Yui’s lingering hunger and let her feel this world properly.

"Ahh…" Yui’s breath deepened and she arched up into the wet heat of Shuurei’s mouth on her breast. "Very convincing," she gasped.

"Mm?" Shuurei’s tongue stroked her nipple. "And this?" Slim fingers slid down between Yui’s legs, touching her gently.

Yui was losing track of the game in the pleasure, but managed to whisper, "Very glad to be here," before the sweetness curling down her nerves distracted her entirely. She spread her legs wider, lifting up into the touch, and Shuurei kissed her, murmuring soothing half words, fingers rubbing slow and easy, coaxing and gentle, the way she’d always touched Yui from the first moment they’d met and Shuurei had gathered up her hands in welcome.

Shuurei’s fingers dipped into her and slid back up, bold and slick, and Yui gasped, hips rocking up. She loved Shuurei’s ease with their bodies. It sank her down into the heat, into a feeling of safety as Shuurei’s familiar, mortal and human curves pressed against her and dark hair slipped down to brush her cheek like another caress. "Shuurei," she breathed, arms tightening around her as pleasure curled tighter and tighter and finally broke through her, hot and strong and open.

Shuurei held her close until she sighed and relaxed back against the sheets. Yui nuzzled the curve of Shuurei’s neck and murmured, "You know I’ll stay with you." She hadn’t missed the tiny flicker of darkness in Shuurei’s eyes before teasing covered it.

Shuurei blushed a little, soft and happy, and snuggled up against her. "I know. It’s wonderful; thank you."

"Mm, thank you," Yui returned, and they laughed together, light and breathless.

Sometimes, when Yui ran her fingers through Shuurei’s sleek, dark hair, she remembered Miaka leaning against her, Miaka’s hands reaching toward her. But when Shuurei smiled, warm as the sun and twice as brilliant, dragons and gods and the dimmed day-to-day world that came after washed out of Yui’s mind, and she, too, was very glad she had come to this place. A place where the eyes of the person who touched her saw beauty and wisdom, not fragments and foolishness. It made her think she might become what Shuurei saw.

She held Shuurei closer and murmured against her ear, "Do I get a bedtime story tonight?"

"Of course." Shuurei hooked a leg comfortably around Yui’s. "What do you want to hear about?"

"Tell me more about the Chancellery…"

End

A/N: The author would like to note that this story is entirely the fault of Lys ap Adin, fic enabler extraorinaire.