It had been three days since Tasuki had been stabbed. He was the only one who made note of the fact, mainly because he was the only one who knew.

“No,” He said quietly to the walls of his bedroom, he had been spending more and more time there. “Not the only one…”

Tamahome and Nuriko knew, they had been the ones to inflict the wounds on him. Since that night he had been avoiding them with a fierce passion. He had caught them looking at him when they were forced to be together, and he could just barely see the hostility in those looks. They were afraid he would tell someone what had happened that night. Afraid of being revealed as the sadistic people they were. They were more sick and twisted then Nakago.

He found his hands had started trembling, a bad habit he had recently developed, and he crossed his arms to hide it, as well as cursing himself. Glancing out the open door, he saw Chichiri and Mitsukake making their way across the courtyard to his room.

“Aww…hell.” He groaned loudly. “Jus’ what I need…”

Tasuki figured they must becoming to see why he hadn’t showed up for lunch, or breakfast for that matter. He left his bed and moved to lean on the door jam, blocking the two from seeing the bloody bandages that littered his floor. They stopped on the steps leading to the porch, eyeing him with concern.

“If yer wonderin’ why I skipped lunch today, save it.” Tasuki said before they had a chance to even open their mouths. “I jes’ wasn’t hungry.”

“Actually,” Chichiri countered in his normal high-pitched voice. “We’ve been worried about you Tasuki, no da. You’ve missed the last three meals…”

Mitsukake nodded. “You’re looking a bit pale as well, have you been sleeping all right?”

Tasuki almost shook his head, he hadn’t slept in nearly two days. The nightmares he’d been having were just too vivid. But if he told them that, he’d have to explain what had been happening, and with what Nuriko said, he wasn’t sure he should. “I’ve jes’ been feelin’ a bit under the weather is all.”

Mitsukake furrowed his brow and took a step towards him. “Would you like me examine you?”

Tasuki’s eyes widened and he took a step back quickly slamming into the door jam with a yelp. If they examined him they’d find the injury! He couldn’t let them do that.

“NO!” He cried raising a hand to ward them off. The pair exchanged a worried glance and Tasuki was sure they were going to force himself into it anyway. He took a deep calming breath and attempted in a much smoother voce. “I-I just need a little rest. I’ll be fine by dinner…”

Chichiri raised one of the eyebrows on his mask, something Tasuki still found extremely unnerving. “Are you sure, no da?”

The redhead forced himself to smirk a bit and he crossed his arms. “Yeah! I don’ need no babyin’ fer a little tiredness.”

Mitsukake frowned, still obviously unsure. “If you’re really sure…”

“Sure, I’m sure!” Tasuki replied annoyed. Why wouldn’t they just leave? “Go away and let me rest already! Seesh!”

He whirled away from them and stepped into his room. He turned back grabbed the door and slammed it shut and locked it before they could say another word. He waited, leaning against the door, eyes closed, until he was sure they were gone. Once he heard their footsteps fade away, he breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes. Standing not two feet in front of him was Nuriko, tossing the knife from hand to hand. Tasuki cried in surprise and jumped back into the door, eyes wide.

“You were going to tell them weren’t you?” He accused furiously. “You were going to rat us out!”

“N-no!” Tasuki shook his head vehemently. Nuriko held *the* knife, he didn’t want to upset the psychotic seishi as long as he had that weapon.

It was a long ornate dagger with markings in a lost language on the hilt and blade. The handle was made of something that reminded Tasuki of bone, and it was carved in the shape of a dragon.

Nuriko saw him eyeing the knife apparently for a slow, cruel smile crept across his face. He lifted the knife to eye level and began waving it back and forth, up and down, giggling as Tasuki’s eyes followed it like a dog would. He suddenly lunged toward the redhead with a vicious snarl.

The knife was driven deep into the wood just left of his skull. A thin line of blood trickled down Tasuki’s cheek but he didn’t flinch. He’d been threatened like this before. By men more experienced with the use of a knife. He could tell by the way Nuriko threw it he didn’t know much about knife handling. Best yet, now Nuriko didn’t have the knife.

He smirked and grabbed the knife with one hand smoothly yanking out of the door. Nuriko pouted crossing his arms. “Now that’s no fun! You’re not supposed to fight back!”

“Look’s like th’ tables have turned Nuriko…” He purred flipping the knife between his knuckles. “You were dangerous before, but now ya have no weapon.”

“I don’t need a weapon.” Nuriko growled pulling his fists back and dropping into a semi-crouch. “I can teach you a lesson with my fists!”

“I don’t want to hurt you Nuriko.” Tasuki replied. “I don’ care whatcha done to me…we’re both Suzaku Seishi.”

Nuriko smirked before launching himself at the younger teen. Tasuki was caught off guard by the attack and found himself pinned to the door with Nuriko’s arm across his throat. Nuriko pushed his forearm harder into the soft flesh cutting off the fiery seishi’s oxygen.

“There…now that’s the way it should be…” Nuriko purred into his ear, easily pulling the knife from his weakened grasp. “The fear in your eyes is delectable. Need that air, huh?”

Tasuki could only make a few unintelligible comments as he wheezed sucking in as much air as he could. Nuriko laughed pushing all his weight onto his forearm, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Nuriko!” Someone behind him admonished. “You can’t have all the fun without me!”

Tasuki, through his fading, hazy vision saw the outline of a very familiar figure. “Tamahome…no…”

Tamahome stepped out of the shadows revealing himself wearing the outfit he had been in Kutou, when he had been brainwashed and nearly killed him. Tasuki had never been beaten so bad by anyone before. Clutched in his hands was a pair of nun chucks. The young Suzaku seishi’s eyes widened with fear. It was going to happen again! Tamahome was going to attack him again, only this time without Chichiri to get him out of it. Not only that but with Nuriko there to help torture him!

Tamahome closed in on him with a viciously delighted smile. “We’ll teach you not to snitch…”

Tasuki lasted several hours before giving into unconsciousness, and he never once screamed.

~¤~

It was nearing dinner time and Miaka had yet to see Tasuki come out of his room. Chichiri and Mitsukake had checked up on him after he didn’t join them for lunch and had said he wasn’t feeling well and left it at that but something about Chichiri’s manner after that had seemed off. He had seemed confused.

She flicked her loose hair over her shoulder as she leaned against the railing, staring at the water. Chichiri sat on the rock not far away his rod in the water. He hadn’t caught anything and no matter how many times anyone explained that there were no fish in the pond, the monk didn’t seem to care. She smirked slightly watching the blue haired man as he pulled up the line and cast it again.

If she was going to approach Chichiri about what had happened with Tasuki it’d be now. The young priestess nimbly leapt the rail and headed towards the rock. Chichiri didn’t turn to greet her, but she knew better than to assume he didn’t know she was there. She took a seat next to the quiet monk and watched him for a few minutes.

“This is about Tasuki isn’t it, no da?” Chichiri said quietly without looking at her. “I’m really worried about him. He hasn‘t come out of his room all day.” She nodded looking out over the pond. “And you seemed a bit…concerned after you came back from his room…”

“Something just doesn’t feel right, no da.” Chichiri replied his voice suddenly dropping to it’s normal register. “Tasuki’s hiding something.”

“Like what?” Miaka raised a brow.

“I don’t know.” Chichiri pulled in his pole and turned to face his priestess fully. “Something just doesn’t seem right with him, no da. I fear for him.”

Miaka furrowed her brow and licked her lips before replying, something about Chichiri’s tone disturbed her. “Fear for him?”

“Yes,” Chichiri nodded looking strangely unconcerned with his cheerful mask on. “I fear something terrible may happen to him, no da.”

Miaka’s eyes widened. “Should we keep on eye on him?”

“Good idea.” Chichiri agreed. “Mitsukake suggested the same thing.”

Miaka smirked, standing. “Great minds think alike.”

Chichiri smirked back. “Is dinner going to be ready soon, no da?”

“Yeah! We should head to the dinning hall now, actually! Come on!” Miaka answered hands on hips.

“Miiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaka! Chichiriiiiiiii!” Nuriko waved running towards them.

“Good!” Chichiri chirped also rising, throwing his pole over one shoulder. “I haven’t caught anything all day, no da. I’m starved.”

“Chichiri…” Nuriko rolled his eyes coming to a stop beside him. “There *are* no fish in that pond.”

Chichiri just smiled and Miaka laughed. No matter how many times…

~¤~

A few days had passed since the incident on the steps but Tamahome hadn’t forgotten about it. Something about the whole thing seemed off. Wrong somehow. But Tasuki had been avoiding him since it happened. It wasn‘t like he was mad at him either, it was more like scared. Tamahome had tried several times to talk to him but Tasuki had made an excuse to get away each time.

Now three days later, the bandit hadn’t shown up for breakfast or lunch and was currently missing dinner as well and somehow Tamahome knew that it had to do with what had happened. Tamahome glanced at the vacant seat. Tasuki had never missed dinner, he could be as bad as Miaka when it came to food and now he had skipped several meals. Something was definitely wrong.

Tamahome stared hard at the vacant seat where the red head usually sat, a frown creasing his features. He shook his head trying to dispel thoughts of that day, it was normal of people to sometimes get lost in thought he rationalized. But never like Tasuki had another part of his mind argued. His friend seemed almost to be looking at something in another world. Something that terrified him.

Tamahome jumped when he felt a gentle hand upon his shoulder. He glanced over expecting it to be Miaka, mouth stuffed with food, asking why he wasn’t eating. Instead he found himself staring at what he thought, for a second, was Mitsukake’s cat.

“Everything okay?” Chichiri queried his mask making it next to impossible for him to look concerned and yet the monk still managed it. “You seem a bit distracted, no da.”

“Yeah. I’m fine, it’s nothing.” Tamahome replied waving the blue haired man off. “Just something Tasuki said a few days ago sprang to mind…”

“Speaking of Tasuki, where is the redheaded annoyance? I haven’t seen him all day.” Nuriko joined the conversation from across the table holding a drumstick in one hand and resting his head on the other. “It’s almost as rare for him to miss a meal as it is for Miaka.”

“Like I know.” Tamahome replied a bit harsher than he had intended. “I bet he’s in his room.”

Nuriko nodded looking a bit hurt by Tamahome’s tone but continued cheerily. “Well he did seem a little out of it when I passed him earlier. Maybe he hit his head.”

“And mebbe he was jes’ busy…” Tasuki interrupted from the door where he was leaning. Tamahome spun in surprise not expecting the bandit to actually be there. The redhead smirked at him in response, but even with the smirk Tamahome caught a bit of lingering fear in his eyes. There were not many things Tasuki was afraid. “I don’ need to tell ya where I am all the time do I?”

He pushed himself off the doorframe and fell into the vacant seat next to Tamahome moving it as far away from him as he could while still managing to be in front of his plate. Tamahome bit his lip and was about to comment when Miaka drew him into conversation with Hotohori and Nuriko about their travel plans. Ten minutes passed and Tamahome had all but tuned out the conversation as he glanced over at Tasuki noting his quietness and his untouched plate. Chiriko noticed as well.

“Are you feeling okay, Tasuki?” He asked quietly not wanting to disturb the conversation at the other end of the table regardless Miaka glanced at them “You haven’t eaten anything and you look pale…”

Tasuki didn’t reply and Tamahome turned to look at him again. The fiery seishi had his arms wrapped around his stomach tightly as he stared down at his plate, eyes guarded from full view by his bangs. Tamahome’s eyes widened as he realized the bandit had started trembling and so he leaned forward to peer past his bangs, finding his golden eyes wide with fear and glazed, his face was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. This was the same way he had seen him a few days before.

“Tasuki?” Tamahome tried futilely to garner a reaction from him. He felt Miaka place a hand on his shoulder.

“Tamahome?” She asked around a mouthful of food. “What’s wrong?”

Tamahome shook her off, completely missing the look of hurt that passed over her face, as he moved to place his hand on Tasuki’s shoulder. The redhead didn’t react in the slightest. Tamahome frowned his concern showing on his face. “Tasuki…Tasuki answer me!”

The conversation around the table died as they all realized something was terribly wrong. Chichiri’s head snapped up and he glanced back and forth as if searching for something. Mitsukake was eyeing Tasuki and Tamahome looking ready to get out of his seat and help. Chiriko looked alarmed as Tasuki’s shaking became more violent. Nuriko and Hotohori were watching in silence, the purple haired seishi leaning over the table to get a closer look at his friend.

“No…” Tasuki whispered hoarsely violently wrenching out of Tamahome’s grip. “No!”

Tamahome tried to grab Tasuki’s shoulder again. Only years of training stopped the young Suzaku seishi from being belted across the face by a wild swing. Hotohori, Nuriko and Chichiri were on their feet instantly as Tamahome caught Tasuki’s wrist with his hand. Miaka gasped horrified that one of her protectors would actually take a swing at another.

“Tasuki! What in Suzaku’s name is wrong with you?” Hotohori demanded making his way towards where the bandit was still seated. Tamahome held out his other arm to stop him.

“I’ve got this.” He said quietly but with authority, never taking his face off of Tasuki as he struggled to free his wrist. Tears were streaming freely down his face, his eyes were wide and sightless, the pupils lost in the sea of deep amber. His breathing came in harsh gasps as he frantically tried to free himself from Tamahome’s grasp and whatever he was seeing. Tasuki tried to hit him with his other arm but found it quickly restrained as Chichiri grabbed him from behind.

The restraint seemed only to incensed the man further as he began to kick furiously knocking all three to the ground.

“Lemme go!” He shouted as loud as he could. “Lemme go y’bastards!”

“Tamahome!” Chichiri cried as he tried to restrain the younger man. “Keep him restrained, no da! I feel a strange chi.”

“I dunno if I can…” Tamahome replied struggling to keep the frantic teen’s chest and arms pinned to the ground while Chichiri sat on his legs. “I’ve only seen this once before, and he was terrified of me when he came out of it.”

“Here!” A drink was thrust in front of his face by Mitsukake. “It should calm him down for awhile.”

Tamahome nodded and shifted his position pulling Tasuki’s upper torso into his lap. With Chichiri’s help, they managed to get the drink down the smaller seishi’s throat. Tasuki’s struggles weakened then ceased altogether, his golden eyes slowly sliding shut.

“The Chi’s gone now…” Chichiri whispered as he and Tamahome relinquished their hold on the now unconscious teen.

Miaka stood behind Tamahome’s kneeling form, a hand on his shoulder. Mitsukake knelt beside Tamahome with concern. “Did you get cut in the struggle?”

“What?” Tamahome glanced down at what had drawn the healers attention and found his hands, forearms, and parts of his shirt were stained with blood. “No! I-I mean, it’s not my blood.”

“Thank god!” Miaka gasped hugging the seishi from behind. “I don’t know what I might’ve done had you been injured.”

“Cry?” Nuriko replied almost absently ignoring the glare he received.

Mitsukake quickly glanced at Chichiri but found no sign of blood on him. With a frown he quickly turned to the unconscious red head in Tamahome‘s lap. Mitsukake placed a hand on the unconscious boys forehead and pulled back quickly. “He has an extraordinarily high fever…”

“Could he have been delirious then?” Chiriko asked quietly.

“No…” Chichiri shook his head. “That wasn’t a normal delirious state, no da.”

“Then, what could it have been?” Nuriko raised and brow and leaned over the monk.

“I-I don’t know, no da.” Chichiri replied using his staff to stand, watching the healer examine his young friend. He was unable to conceal a gasp when he pulled back the jacket.

“Oh no…” Mitsukake breathed pulling everyone’s attention back to him, Tasuki, and the extraordinary amount of blood staining his shirt.

Nuriko gasped and pulled Chiriko behind him. Mitsukake quickly ripped the blood stained shirt open revealing a crude, bloody bandage around his midsection. Miaka cried out and turned away into Hotohori’s chest. Tamahome covered his mouth, looking sick at the copper smell that filled the room.

“This is an old wound.” Mitsukake observed as he removed the bandage as gently as he could. “I’d say it happened a few days, *and* it‘s infected. That‘s what‘s causing his fever.”

“B-but why wouldn’t he tell us about it?!” Nuriko asked his voice jumping several octaves. “Why would he just let it fester?”

“I feel something evil is at work here.” Hotohori said quietly shielding Miaka from the sight of the blood with his arm and sleeve.

Chiriko nodded. “You wouldn’t be far wrong, but could Seiryuu Seishi really do this?”

Mitsukake brought his hand up and let it hover over the wound. “It doesn’t matter what evil did this, it’ll be healed soon. Then we can ask Tasuki once he wakes up.”

His seishi symbol glowed as his hand and Tasuki’s wound were enveloped in a soft green glow. The wound didn’t seem to be healing and Mitsukake frowned. Then a maroon glow slowly replaced the green, creeping up from the wound like a snake.

Mitsukake was thrown across the room with a shout and Tasuki began to tremble violently curling himself into a tight ball as blood began to pour freely out of the jagged wound in his abdomen. Chichiri suddenly cried out and clutched his head.

Nuriko and Chiriko quickly rushed to the healers side as he pushed himself up the wall to a sitting position. While Chichiri and Tamahome tried to stop Tasuki’s blood from leaking out onto the floor. Miaka began sobbing into Hotohori’s shirt.

“Is he going to die?!” She squealed. “Mitsukake, you couldn’t heal him, could you? So is he going to die?”

Mitsukake shook his head to clear it leaning heavily on Nuriko. “No…I couldn’t heal him…Something…something interfered with my power…stopped it from working, turned it back on me. But I can stop the bleeding. I can heal with more than just my powers.” He quickly switched to doctor mode. “Chiriko, I need you to get my bandages and herbs. Tamahome, you and Chichiri carry Tasuki to his room, gently though, don’t aggravate the wound any more than you have to. Nuriko, you take Miaka and get me boiling water. Hotohori, I could use any servants with some form of training in the arts of healing.”

The group nodded and quickly set out, not even Hotohori complained about being ordered around. Tamahome and Chichiri quickly, but gently picked the unconscious teen and left the room, followed by the others. When they were gone Mitsukake leaned back against the wall holding his head in his hands.

Whatever it was that they were facing, it was beyond anything they had fought before. If it was the power of one of the Seiryuu seishi they hadn’t encountered yet, then they were in serious trouble.