Notes: What if, what if, what if... This is a question asked constantly by Fushigi Yuugi fans worldwide. What if Yui had been the Suzaku no miko instead of Miaka? What if Nuriko hadn't died? What if Hikou hadn't betrayed Chichiri? Questions like that lead to a plot for a fanfiction, which is precisely why this story is here.
My question: what if Nakago had known who the real Chiriko was? What if he knew where Chiriko lived and what his name was? It would make Amiboshi's job much easier if they could be certain that the real Chiriko wouldn't interfere, ne?
Warnings: This fic, while it isn't NC-17 (...yet), is extremely dark and not intended for those with weak stomachs, high blood pressure, and/or grandchildren. Again, it is EXTREMELY dark. This story involves things such as murder, kidnapping, and child abuse/molestation/rape. It is not for everyone. Know this, accept this, and if you feel like it, read the story. Also, there is a LOT of Chiriko angst. A LOT. No joke. Tons. Don't like Chiriko angst? Then this fanfic isn't for you.
Dedication: Anyone who has gone to my site. ^__^; And Emy-chan, for liking this part. *glomp*
Disclaimer: ...... *rolls eyes* Please.
Making the Quill Dance
His quill scratched against the paper as he began to write, taking care to spell out the difficult kanji correctly. He was concentrating immensely; all that was on his mind was the soft, cool paper and the dark ink in front of him. The quill moved gracefully in his hand, like a dance. It seemed to twirl and move in his hands, as if it was alive and writing on its own, instead of relying on him for mobility. He took a sense of pride in knowing that he alone could make the quill dance.
He was so lost in his world that he barely noticed the fading sunlight outside his window. He wasn't aware when his mother came in and lit a candle for him before closing the drapes that surrounded the aforementioned window. The night drew on and slowly, the physical needs of his body began to drag him away from his work. They cried for food, water, and sleep: each of these things easily forsaken when he was studying. He sighed as his world began to disappear like it always did, slowly and with a hint of sadness. The real world seemed so foreign afterwards.
But this time, something was different. This time, he jumped out of the world hastily; he heard something - something loud!
Doukun suddenly blinked, sitting up in his chair and looking around tentatively. His room was how he had left it, with the possible exception of the candle and the drapes. He stood up and walked over to the door, frowning slightly. Only once before had he been so rudely pulled from his work, and that was when his father had died and his elder brother had come to tell him, crying. Yet...
A crash was heard downstairs, accompanied by intense yelling. Doukun froze, eyes widening, as he identified one of the voices: his mother. He froze in the doorway, becoming frightened. Instinctively, he
called out,
Doukun began to move towards the stairs to see what was happening, but he had only taken a few steps before a figure moved to stop him.
Doukun, no! the figure said. It was his brother, Junhai, and Doukun could only gape as Junhai grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the main staircase.
Doukun asked, becoming confused. It was a feeling that he rarely had in either the real world or his own, but it was apparent now. His sea-green eyes went wide with worry as he felt the fear that was radiating off of his brother. What's happening, Oniisama?
Nothing, just shut up and come with me. Junhai responded harshly, and Doukun found himself obeying the orders. He had been brought up to do so without question, and he supposed this was as good a reason as any. But something was happening and it was beginning to severely frighten him. Where was his mother? Who did those voices belong to?
Junhai pulled him to the far end of the hallway, saying nothing but looking so intense that Doukun didn't dare question his orders. Junhai glanced at Doukun as he opened the door, which led to a separate, hidden staircase. Doukun couldn't help but note that this staircase had been made in a time of despair, when it was often necessary to find a way out of the house.
Come, Doukun, Junhai said, his voice strangely calm as he grabbed Doukun by the elbow and pulled the younger boy with him. Come on, now!
B-but, Oniisama, my scrolls, Doukun gaped, sprouting the first thing that came to his mind. After he spoke, he felt stupid; what about his mother, or his home, or-
There is no time! Junhai snapped at him, proceeding to half drag, half carry him down the staircase.
Oniisama, what's happening?! Doukun asked desperately. He had never been satisfied with not knowing, but especially now, when it appeared that something was happening to his mother. Junhai's expression was so intense and fearful that Doukun couldn't help but feel a portent of fear seeping into his bones.
Some men are attacking, Junhai finally quipped, knowing that unless he told Doukun something, the child wouldn't keep quiet until he did get some answers. They arrived just now and started shouting at Okaasan and I, before I left to get you. I think they hit her.
Doukun gasped, his eyes widened in horror, and he asked, Is Okaasama all right? What did they want?
I don't know the answer to either of those questions, Doukun, so be silent! Junhai snarled at him, his gray eyes narrow. They reached the end of the staircase, and Doukun again allowed himself to be pulled through the doorway at the bottom of it. Men were attacking? But why?
It was cold outside and Doukun shivered without his overcoat. As Junhai continued to pull him away from the house, Doukun suddenly realized that they were heading towards a small outcropping of houses that neighbored his. Doukun looked up at his brother, unsure of what was happening, but he asked nothing for fear of further upbraiding. Instead, Doukun glanced back at his home and nearly stumbled as he saw it: flames! Flames! His house was burning!
Oniisama! Oniisama! Doukun choked out, tears coming to his eyes. The house is on fire!
This statement made Junhai stop in his tracks, and the older boy abruptly turned to look back at the house. Doukun stood gasping beside him, using the sudden respite to catch his breath. But the horror was sinking into him and he looked up at his elder brother, worried. Oniisama, what are we going to do?
We are doing nothing, Junhai responded sharply, making a quick decision. Doukun, run to the nearest house. Tell them that we are under attack, and then stay there. Do you understand?
B-but what about you, Oniisama?
I'm going to help Okaasan. Junhai answered, and he gave Doukun a small shove in the direction they had previously been running toward.
Doukun obeyed, trying to keep the nervous tremor out of his voice. Junhai instantly ran back towards the house, leaving Doukun standing there, shivering and frightened. It took a moment to catch his bearings and in that instant, Doukun saw three things that terrified him more than anything he had ever known.
One, the fire he had seen in the house covered more than just the entryway. It was now licking out of the windows as well, including the one in his own bedroom. Doukun could feel his heart sink even more as he saw this, fearing for his scrolls - but that, it seemed at the moment, was a trivial worry.
The second thing he saw was the men who were swarming about his home. They bore swords and helmets, and even from the distance Doukun could see the insignia of the Kotou royal army. His mind was whirring around in his head, but he didn't even start to wonder what they were there for or why they were doing this. Because the third thing Doukun saw made him banish all thoughts from his head.
A group of men were rounding the corner of his home and they immediately spotted Junhai. Doukun opened his mouth to warn his brother, but it was too late; Junhai saw them and jerked to the right, trying to avoid them. But the numbers of the men were too great and one of them was able to grab Junhai by the arm, pulling him back. The unknown soldier held Junhai's arms behind him, rendering him immobile.
Doukun saw all of this from inside a small grove of trees and was startled as he heard one of the men snap at Junhai, Where's the boy?!
Junhai snarled at the man and said nothing, anger apparent on his face. Doukun felt his own face paling as he heard the man; were they talking about him? What was happening?
Not answering? the man scoffed. He made a sharp gesture to another soldier on his right, who quickly drew a sword. Doukun's eyes went wide.
The man grinned cruelly as he stabbed Junhai in the chest, stepping back as blood spewed onto the ground. Doukun bit back a cry of revulsion and tried to look away, but found that he could not turn from the horrific sight. The man who stabbed his brother pulled his sword back and let Junhai fall to his knees. Junhai's mouth was open in a silent scream as he clutched at the massive wound in his chest. He suddenly went limp and fell to the ground, his arms twitching a few times before finally going still.
Doukun whispered, his vision going blurry as tears erupted in his eyes. He suddenly remembered what Junhai had told him to do and he abruptly turned and left the site. He ran, stumbling and crying, as far as he could before running into a form. He looked up, eyes full of tears, and could see a blur of blue cloak and blond hair.
the figure said, grabbing his arms in a vise-like grip, You are the Suzaku Shichiseishi Chiriko.
Doukun could only struggle vainly as he realized that he had been captured, despite his brother's attempts to save him. Tears streamed down his face as he kicked at the man, crying out uselessly. Where was his mother? Where was everyone? Why...?
Doukun suddenly found himself being dragged away as he struggled, and his arms were pinned to his side by the blond man. His tears halted momentarily as he realized that the man was taking him back towards his home. The sight of his house in flames caused Doukun to cry out in horror, his struggles intensifying.
Let me go! he exclaimed, lashing out and striking the blond man in the leg with one foot. The man made a slight noise of surprise at Doukun's sudden attack, but merely laughed at the child's futile attempts to get away.
I don't think so, the man responded, and before Doukun knew what was happening, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck, lacing through his skull. Doukun gasped as his breath left him and his vision went blurry before fading into darkness.
The child's form went limp in his arms and Nakago sneered, lifting the boy's unconscious body up and throwing it over his shoulder. The blond-haired general immediately walked to the meeting area, where the carriage had been left. A few of his men were seated around the carriage, but stood and bowed low to him before standing at attention.
Nakago asked, his blue eyes narrow.
The woman and the other boy have been killed, sir, one of the men, Kai, responded quickly. The house has been destroyed.
And the scrolls? Nakago questioned, Did you retrieve the books and scrolls from the child's room?
Hai, sir, came Kai's reply.
Good. Sound the recall. Nakago instructed, taking Doukun's limp body in his hands and glancing at the men. We have what we came for.
Hai, sir. Kai obeyed, and the three men instantly left the area to round up the other soldiers. Nakago smirked, glancing down at the shiftless body in his arms; everything had gone according to plan.
Doukun awoke with a throbbing headache, which only intensified as the ground bounced along beneath him. His eyes were closed, but he could tell instantly that he was in a cart or carriage of some sort, though where he was exactly was beyond him. He tried moving his arms, but found that they were bound with twine; he could feel it cutting into his skin, despite the long-sleeved shirt that he wore. He thought of trying to get up, but as he became more aware, Doukun could hear voices speaking around him.
So who is the kid, anyway?
I dunno. Some brat that's important to the kingdom or whatnot.
Don'tcha know? The kid's one of the Suzaku Shichiseishi. Nakago-sama wants to make sure that he doesn't meet up with the miko.
The Suzaku no miko is in Konan? Shit! Since when?
Since before the Seiryuu no miko came, ya moron.
At least we have the kid, right? Then they can't summon Suzaku.
Yeah, whatever. S'long as Nakago-sama's happy, I couldn't care less who summons who, ya know?
Yeah, no shit...
It went on like that for quite some time, and during that time, Doukun tried to make out what was being said. The Suzaku no miko was in Konan? And now, apparently, he had been taken prisoner by one of the Seiryuu Shichiseishi, if the name Nakago meant anything. He tried to think more, but the pain in his head grew worse as he tried.
Suddenly, the carriage went over a large bump in the road, and Doukun was shoved against some boxes, banging his head on the wood. he cried out, unable to stop himself.
The sound of voices died out and Doukun opened his eyes, trying to ignore the yell of protest his head gave him. Sitting around him were five burly-looking men, each of them watching him at the moment. Including, Doukun noted with a burst of anger, the one who had stabbed his brother.
Hey, the brat's awake. another man stated, and Doukun recognized him as the leader of the group of men. The one who had spoken earlier, before telling the other man to kill Junhai.
Doukun's eyes were wide with fear and he struggled vainly with the restraints around his arms. It was futile, as the twine was tied tightly, and he only succeeded in cutting deeper into his skin. The pain brought tears to his eyes, threatening to spill over onto his cheeks, but Doukun resisted them, not wanting to cry in front of his kidnappers.
Oh, shit, man, he's gonna cry. one of the men moaned, rolling his eyes. Someone make him shut up.
Doukun froze as he heard this, his tears continuing to well up in his eyes. Desperately, he wished that this was all just a dream; a horrible, terrifying nightmare that he would wake up from and have his mother come in and sing him back to sleep. Or have his brother come and tell him stories and...
Doukun murmured softly, tears spilling over and falling down his cheeks. He knew that the men were going to be upset with him, but his remorse for his brother was overwhelming. All he could see was the scene where Junhai had been captured, where he had been killed, where that man had stabbed him... Doukun's body shook with his sobbing, and he could feel the men's eyes on him.
Someone knock im out again!
I don't wanna hafta listen to this shit all the way home, man...
Doukun heard them as he cried and he tried to stop. Not for their sake, but because he didn't want to be knocked out again. But he couldn't stop crying; he couldn't stop reliving the memory of his brother's dead body falling to the ground, staring at the world with blank, glassy eyes...
All ya'll, shut up! a voice suddenly snapped, sounding harsh and blistering. It came from the corner of the small room and the other men went silent as the new voice spoke. Can't ya fuckin' see that he's just a little kid? Give him some time ta fuckin' cry.
A man snorted, I don't wanna hafta listen to it, Jen.
I don't fuckin' care! Jen snapped back, His family was just killed, ya bastards! What if he was yer little brother, Ketou? Let im fuckin' cry.
None of the men could argue with that, and Doukun's sobs continued amidst the reigning silence in the room. He knew they were all watching him and he hated it. If not for the bonds around his arms, he would have curled up in a ball and cried, but that was an impossibility now.
Suddenly, a hand came down on his shoulder. Doukun jerked his head up and moved as far away as he could; he didn't want to be knocked out again. But the hand was comforting and the man that looked down at him did so with no malice.
You okay, kid? Jen asked, looking down at Doukun with pity in his eyes. Doukun stared up at him, his tears ceasing for a moment as he took in the man that was speaking to him. Faced with the question, Doukun found himself saying the first thing that came to his mind.
I want my okaasama and my oniisama, Doukun whispered, his lower lip shaking as he threatened to burst into tears again.
Jen said nothing in response, but turned at looked back at the other men on the carriage. Some of them looked like they weren't paying attention, but others were watching the morbid scene with looks of pity and horror on their faces. The man who had killed Junhai was watching, eyes wide in something akin to shame.
Tears fell silently down Doukun's face, but he welcomed the comforting hand on his shoulder. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that it was Junhai telling another one of his funny stories. Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a princess...
What is this? a voice snapped in the silence, and both the men and Doukun looked up. Doukun's face contorted in fear as he recognized the blond-haired man from before, and he began to tremble.
Jen, however, answered calmly, He was crying. We were trying to help him.
the blond-haired man repeated, his sharp blue eyes narrowing. Let him cry. Or better, don't. Kick him until he shuts up.
He's a little boy, Nakago-sama. Jen replied, a hint of irritation in his voice. It was carefully disguised, as Nakago was his commanding officer, but only just.
He is also one of the Suzaku Shichiseishi, Nakago replied, stepping near both Jen and Doukun. He glanced down at Doukun, his features radiating disgust but his eyes blank. Don't tell me you're selling out your own country, Jen.
I just- Jen began, but Nakago cut him off.
Shut up. Nakago instructed, and Jen was forced to obey his superior officer. The rest of the men looked on in horror as Nakago glared down at Doukun. Boy. Look at me.
Doukun shivered, willing himself to look up at the terrible man standing before him. Briefly, green eyes met blue before Doukun averted his gaze, frightened. Nakago smirked.
Do you miss your mother, boy? The question appeared innocent, but Nakago didn't wait for an answer before continuing, She's never going to save you. She's dead. I saw my men kill her. In fact, it was you who did it, wasn't it, Jen?
Jen's eyes widened in disgrace as he heard Nakago's accusation, but he knew it was true. Doukun couldn't help but jerk back and look up at Jen, hurt at the thought that this man who had been trying to help him had killed his mother. When Jen didn't meet his eyes, Doukun looked away, involuntary tears coming to his eyes. No one would help him, no one...
The child is crying again. Nakago stated calmly, looking at Jen with an expectant look on his face. Go on. Kick him and make him stop.
Jen's eyes narrowed. I told you that I wasn't going to do that.
Why not? You stabbed his mother three times with your dagger, didn't you? Nagako raised an eyebrow as Jen recoiled at the accusation, his shoulders trembling. Kick him. Make him stop.
N-no, sir... Jen answered back, his determination weaker this time.
If you don't, you'll be committing treason. Nakago revealed, as calm and emotionless as he would be if he were discussing the weather. No matter what has happened to the boy, he brought it upon himself by being a Suzaku Shichiseishi. He is your enemy. Make him stop.
Jen said nothing, staring at Nakago with fear in his eyes. The penalty for treason was death, he knew, but to hurt the boy? Jen looked down at Doukun, who was sitting there silently, staring at the ground while tears streamed down his face. It was a choice he had to make, a choice that basically came down to his life or the child's. The boy. The Suzaku Shichiseishi, his enemy...
Do it. came Nakago's cruel order, and Jen obeyed.
He struck Doukun in the side, making the child cry out and try to move away before another attack came. But he continued to cry and Nakago still stood there, waiting for his order to be complied with. Jen lashed his foot out again, hitting the child's arm this time, and waited a moment. Again, in the shoulder. Again, in the leg. Again and again until the child fell still and silent, having blacked out due to the intense beating.
Jen stood, his breath ragged, and he suddenly realized what he had just done. The young boy lay slumped against a box, unconscious, his clothes torn and blood beginning to seep through from a gash on his side. Jen gaped, horrified, and he looked to Nakago for help.
Wise choice, Jen. Nakago said smoothly, nodding to Jen. He turned and began to walk out of the room. Before he left, Nakago instructed, This goes for all of you. No one is to speak to the Suzaku child. No one is to help him in any way. If he cries, make him stop.
With that said, the shogun calmly left that room of the carriage, walking back up to sit with the driver.
Jen and the other men looked at each other, identical expressions of barely concealed horror on their faces. Slowly, they began to continue the discussion, and the memory of what had just occurred began to slip out of their minds.
None of them ever tried to help the child again, and when he awoke, they made sure he made no sound at all.
We're here, a voice called.
Get the brat up. another replied.
Doukun was seated in the corner of the carriage, where he had been since the last incident. They had been traveling for two days, and during that time he had been forced to remain eerily silent; none of the men even looked at him anymore, as if he weren't even a speck on the bottom of their boot. They didn't dare, for fear of Nakago, and besides that, Doukun suspected they believed what Nakago had told them about him bringing this upon himself.
In fact, Doukun was starting to believe it himself. It was his fault that his family had died, because if not for him, then... At this point in time, he would have cried, but Doukun knew better than to make a sound. He was crying on the inside.
A hand grabbed his arm and yanked him up roughly. It didn't hurt, though it was one of the places that he was most often kicked. Doukun suspected that he had a massive bruise covering from his shoulder to mid-wrist, but due to the fact that his arms hadn't been untied since the night the army came, he had lost all feeling in them.
Stay up, brat!
Doukun couldn't stand. The two days of sitting in the same position had rendered him to that state; his legs were stiff and aching. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't had anything to eat or drink since the night; his stomach was cramped up painfully.
a calm voice cut through, and Doukun looked up to see Nakago staring down at him. The shogun watched as Doukun struggled to stay standing, and he smirked. Having trouble?
Doukun knew better than to respond and instead glowered at Nakago as best he could. Past the initial fear and guilt he felt about being kidnapped, Doukun could only feel hate for this man, as well as the others who had assisted. They had attacked his home, slaughtered his family, and now were apparently trying to kill him.
Bring him anyway, Nakago ordered the man who was holding Doukun, whom Doukun recognized as Kai.
Hai, sir, Kai replied quickly, pulling Doukun with him. C'mon, brat.
Doukun allowed himself to be led out of the carriage, though he doubted that he could have resisted even if he wanted to. Once outside, Doukun was surprised to see that they were in front of an enormous palace; his breath caught at the sight of it. Kai quickly yanked him along until they reached the far door. There, Kai stood and waited. Doukun wanted to know why, but didn't dare ask.
All right, orders from Nakago-sama say that he's to be taken to the dungeon. a man said, walking up to them. He was unfamiliar, but Doukun could see that he had the Kotou army insignia on his clothing. It made sense; Nakago wouldn't have brought all of his men just to kidnap him. The man looked up at Kai, stating, Put him in the second section and give him nothing.
Hai, Zhang-sama, Kai replied, bowing. He proceeded to open the door and was about to lead Doukun inside when they were approached by two other people. One was Nakago and the other was a strange, scrawny-looking man that Doukun had never seen before.
Kai halted his action and bowed, stating, Hou-sama, Nakago-sama.
Change of orders, Nakago informed snippily, looking irritated. We're supposed to bring him before Heika-sama. He wants to see the Suzaku seishi.
Doukun didn't look up or say anything, but he was surprised to hear a note of anger in Nakago's voice, as if he was against the orders. This was puzzling, but Doukun didn't exactly have the means to try to find out why.
Shall I accompany you, Nakago-sama, or will you take him? Kai asked politely, not giving the orders a second thought.
I shall take him. Nakago replied, reaching out and grabbing Doukun by the collar of his robes. Doukun stumbled forward, off-balance, but thankfully didn't fall. Nodding to Kai, Nakago proceeded to bring Doukun towards another entrance to the palace.
Doukun wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but he got the idea that he was being taken to see the Emperor of Kotou. This thought made him slightly queasy, as he wasn't sure just why the Emperor wanted to see a Suzaku Shichiseishi. Most likely to gloat, Doukun assumed as he was quickly pulled along by Nakago.
It only took them a few moments to reach the doors to the Emperor's haven, and Hou nodded to Nakago, stating, I will go to inform his highness that you have arrived.
Nakago nodded and Hou disappeared through the doors. The instant the thin man was gone, Nakago turned and glared at Doukun. They were alone in the hall.
You will not speak. Nakago ordered sharply. You will keep your eyes to the ground at all times, unless ordered to do otherwise. Say nothing and do nothing. If you do not, you will be severely punished. Understand?
Doukun nodded slightly, eyes focused on the ground.
Answer me. Do you understand?
Doukun swallowed, his throat caked and dry from not speaking or drinking anything since the night. It was hard, but he was able to mumble a very soft, Hai, sir.
Ha-hai, sir. Doukun repeated, more forcefully this time. He winced at the searing pain that erupted in his throat as he did so, as if it was trying to remind him that he needed water.
Nakago looked like he wanted to make him say it again, but at that moment, Hou came back and nodded to Nakago. His Highness is ready, Nakago-sama.
was Nakago's cold reply, and he pulled Doukun with him through the doors.
The Emperor's quarters were most likely quite lovely, but Doukun didn't see anything but the floor. It was, as floors go, quite beautiful; its design was intricate and flowing, but not overly extravagant. Nakago pulled him along too quickly for him to really analyze anything, but from what Doukun did see, the craftsmanship was of superior quality.
Nakago stopped abruptly, pulling Doukun to a halt beside him. Before saying anything, Nakago kneeled, and Doukun found himself being forced to do the same. He didn't see just who he was kneeling to, though it was quite obviously the Emperor, because his eyes were still cast down at the floor. After doing this for a moment, Nakago stood up, but kept a hand on Doukun's shoulder to keep the small boy kneeling.
Nakago said calmly, and again Doukun could detect a faint hint of anger in the voice. Or not anger, per se, but malice. Doukun didn't know why this was, nor was he audacious enough to ask.
This is one of the Suzaku Shichiseishi? a voice asked, and Doukun winced slightly at the sound. Mellifluous it was not; the sound reminded him of a dying old man. Which, Doukun realized, just might be what the Emperor was. But Doukun didn't know, because he had neither studied the current Kotou Emperor nor was able to look and see. Doukun fervently kept his eyes glued to the floor.
Hai, Heika-sama, Nakago replied, This is the Suzaku Shichiseishi Chiriko. He is now our prisoner.
Doukun felt any hope of being released dying the moment Nakago spoke those words, and his shoulders shook slightly as he tried not to cry. He didn't dare move a muscle, but he soon realized that he wasn't about to cry; it was if his body had shut off that function. Doukun doubted he could have cried even if he wanted to.
the voice continued, and Doukun heard the sound of the man getting up. Footsteps began to walk toward them.
If we are finished, sir, I will send him to the dungeons, Nakago said quickly, and Doukun's eyes, still focused on the floor, widened slightly as he felt Nakago's hand tense up. Nakago clutched his shoulder tightly, signaling him to stand and leave, but the Emperor interfered.
No, wait, the Emperor objected, and Doukun could feel a breeze of scented air as the man stepped near them. Boy. Look up at me.
Doukun tensed, unsure of how to respond to the orders. Nakago had told him not to make eye contact with anyone, but the Emperor was ordering him to, so wouldn't that usurp Nakago's instructions? Again, he felt confused.
Look up, boy.
Doukun found himself obeying the order, subconsciously making the decision. He looked up at the Emperor and briefly made eye contact before looking away - past the Emperor and to a tapestry that hung on the far wall. He was still looking up, but the sight of the Emperor made him slightly queasy. The Emperor's hair was thin and black, and it clung to his neck as if it was greased. He was old, as Doukun had guessed, though not as old as Doukun originally assumed.
was the Emperor's reaction. Doukun took the sound to mean that he could look back down, which he did hastily. There was a slight pause in which no one spoke, but Nakago soon broke the silence.
Shall I bring him to the dungeons, now? Nakago asked, though it sounded more like a command than a request. Doukun frowned; for some reason, Nakago was against the Emperor seeing him. Not that Doukun minded, but he was curious. In actuality, as much as he despised Nakago, the Emperor seemed even worse, though he wasn't sure why. It was just a feeling he had.
No, bring him to a room, the Emperor amended, shuffling his robes as he began to turn around; Doukun could see the movement out of the corner of his eye. Bring him some food and drink, and get someone to clean those wounds as best they can.
There was a moment's pause before Nakago responded, Hai, Heika-sama. His voice sounded reluctant, but he obeyed the order, forcing Doukun to his feet and dragging him out of the room.
Doukun was surprised and pleased by the change of arrangements. From what he figured, Nakago was planning on letting him starve to death in the dungeons. But the Emperor had different orders; Doukun couldn't help but wonder why.
Once in the hallway, Doukun tensed, expecting a thorough beating for not obeying the orders Nakago had given him. But surprisingly, it seemed that Nakago had forgotten that he was even there; the tall man's face was narrowed and angry, though it was quite subtle. It appeared that he was lost in his own thoughts as he pulled Doukun down the hall.
They reached a intersection in the hallway, where two guards were stationed. Nakago turned to one of them.
Hai, Nakago-sama? Chou responded accordingly, bowing low.
Bring this boy to a room near the dungeons. Get someone to clean his wounds and feed him. Nakago ordered shortly, his tone implying that he would rather have anything but that happen.
Chou read the tone but nodded, replying, Hai, Nakago-sama.
With that, Doukun was passed to another man and led down the twisted hallways to his room.
Doukun sat on the bench in his room, clean, fed, and clothed in new robes. He was still covered with bruises and scraps, and he still looked as if he were starving and beaten, but he was clean and fed, at least. The robes he wore were simple; the outer layer was a blue-line pattern over gray and the inner was just blue. Doukun wasn't complaining. After all, they could have just thrown him in the dungeons and let him die. But for some reason that Doukun couldn't fathom, the Emperor had told the maids to feed him and run a bath for him, as well as giving him new clothes. It was baffling, considering the attitude that Doukun had received from the other inhabitants of Kotou.
He looked around the room with half-lidded eyes. Like his new robes, it was simple. It contained a bed and a nightstand, as well as the bench that he was seated on. Doukun supposed that he should have felt lucky to have gotten the room at all, but in reality, he didn't. In fact, he felt like the most hapless person to walk the earth at the moment. His family was dead; he had been kidnapped, beaten, and taken to a strange kingdom to be held prisoner for something he had no control over.
Doukun frowned, arms wrapped around himself as he thought. It wasn't right for this to have happened. In all honesty, if he was a Suzaku Shichiseishi, wouldn't Suzaku have at least tried to protect him? Doukun sighed as a feeling of doubt welled up in his heart; where had Suzakuseikun been? Why had he been treated so cruelly?
His questions went unanswered, as they had been ever since that night. Doukun brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, leaning against the armrest of the bench. He couldn't cry. His body had already realized that crying meant pain, and thus crying was unacceptable. Part of him desperately wanted to cry, though, just to rid himself of the awful feeling in his heart. It was guilt; his family had died because of him. Everything that happened since then was of his own doing, since he was one of the Suzaku Shichiseishi.
Doukun closed his eyes. Why had his mother and brother been killed? Why didn't they just kill him? Initially, it would serve a better purpose for them than having him here as a prisoner. Right now, he was taking up space and eating food they might need. It would have been easier to just kill him, Doukun knew. So why hadn't they? Why didn't they just kill him?
His body was trembling. At that moment, Doukun wanted nothing more than to join his mother and brother. Then he wouldn't have this horrible pain in his heart, he would be with them, he would be happy...
He didn't cry, but he did fall asleep, slowly. Before sleep was able to claim him, his mind produced one last thought.
I wish I was dead...
A hand touched his shoulder.
Doukun struggled to open his eyes, trying to ignore the pins and needles feeling that ran up and down his body. He was stiff and sore, and he suspected what he really needed was either a massage or a substantial amount of exercise. Considering that neither of those options were open to him at the moment, Doukun figured that he would just have to deal with it.
Wake up, little one. a voice murmured softly from above him. Eyes now open, Doukun widened them in surprise. The voice was female, for once, and Doukun's mood raised slightly. Having been stuck with only males since the last time he'd seen his mother, Doukun had almost begun to forget what a woman sounded like.
Doukun looked up and saw a thin, half-smiling lady standing before him. She was a servant, as told by her clothes if not by the fact that she was standing there at all. But her expression was kind, and Doukun felt his heart pang painfully as he was reminded of his mother. He hadn't even been able to say goodbye.
The Emperor has requested that I escort you to his chambers.
Doukun blinked in surprise and then narrowed his eyes in confusion. Everything that had happened had confused him in one way or another, but this one topped them all. Why would the Emperor wish to see him now? After all, hadn't their task been accomplished? He was their prisoner. So why would the Emperor want to see him again?
The woman gestured that he should get up, and Doukun acquiesced, in confusion if nothing else. Something felt wrong here, but in all honesty, Doukun really had nothing to go on. So, unable to do anything else, he allowed himself to be helped up and led out of the room.
It took a while for them to reach the Emperor's quarters, and during that time Doukun found himself subconsciously comparing the female servant to his mother. She was younger than his mother was, but not by much, and she walked in the same manner. In fact, if he tried hard enough, Doukun could pretend that it was his mother standing in front of him. But it was too difficult to sustain the illusion for long, especially because of the nagging voice in the back of his head that kept reminding him of his mother's death.
She was dead. Like his brother.
Because of him...
We have arrived. the servant lady apprised him, and Doukun looked up from his thoughts. She glanced down at him and instructed, You will stay here while I inform His Highness of your presence.
Doukun nodded slightly, but barely paid attention as the woman left. He was standing in front of a wondrously carved door. It stood in the middle of a beautifully sculpted hall that was adorned with priceless paintings and other lovely items. Everything around him screamed of money, which he should have expected, considering that it was the Emperor's palace. But still, it was shocking to see the items first hand; in all of his life, Doukun hadn't ever seen anything of this caliber work, unless the pictures in books counted.
Something stirred inside him, making him wish that he had his scrolls and quills with him so he could study. It was a familiar feeling, but the nostalgia it brought was unwelcome; at home, he would have immediately set out to study. But his home was now a pile of charred remains on a strip of land. Doukun tore his eyes away from the priceless items around him and desperately tried to quell his desire to study.
His Highness is ready. It was the slave woman again.
Doukun gave a small nod, but didn't look up as he walked past the woman and entered the room. It was of ample size, he could tell; Doukun didn't even have to raise his head to know that the Emperor's quarters would be inordinately spacious. He heard the door close behind him, and suddenly, a dire feeling struck him. Doukun could feel an abrupt sense of fear creep into his form; he had always been highly susceptible to feelings and premonitions, and this case was no exception. In fact, the fear was so strong that Doukun found himself shivering.
Are you cold? a voice asked, and Doukun immediately recognized it as the Emperor. Doukun hadn't looked up since entering the room and though he knew that the Emperor was there, he wasn't sure where. Now he knew; he could hear the man's voice coming from about five feet away. Doukun heard a creaking sound and then footsteps as the Emperor stood up and began to walk towards him. Doukun fidgeted nervously, the portent of fear growing stronger with every step the old man took.
Are you cold? the Emperor repeating.
Doukun shook his head in response, eyes never leaving the floor.
A hand came down on his shoulder and Doukun tensed. The Emperor replied, You're shivering. Come here.
Doukun didn't move. His mind was alert with the feeling of terror, a small voice that told him to run away as quickly as possible.
Unfortunately, before he could do anything, the Emperor grabbed Doukun by the arm and pulled the small boy towards him. The old man cupped Doukun's chin in one hand, lifting it up and forcing Doukun to make eye contact with him.
The Emperor gave a perverse smile, murmuring, You are such a pretty little boy.
Doukun was frozen in panic, his green eyes wide. Briefly, the thought of screaming flitted through his mind, but before he could do anything, the Emperor leaned down and roughly kissed him on the mouth. Doukun tried to jerk away, but the old man kept a tight grip on his arm. It felt like hours before the Emperor finally let him breath, and Doukun found himself gasping for breath, his body trembling in fear. The premonition - terror -
The Emperor took advantage of his startled reaction, and Doukun found himself being dragged over to the bed. Doukun was shaking and whimpering, and his mind streamed in circles, never ending and getting nowhere. Vaguely, he felt himself being pushed onto the bed, held down by a pair of strong arms, but all he could feel was a mixture of fear and confusion. Why - what was going on?
His thoughts were cut off as his body suddenly decided to respond to the violation. Doukun lashed out desperately, trying to make the man release him. The Emperor flinched slightly, but merely grabbed both of his wrists in one swift movement and pinned them above his head. Squirming helplessly, Doukun could only watch as the Emperor straddled him, reaching a free hand down to untie his robes. Suddenly, Doukun realized with startling clarity what was happening: he was going to be raped.
No! No, no, stop! Doukun whimpered, struggling to free himself from the older man's grasp. His cries went unnoticed, his struggles in vain, and Doukun was forced to lie under the Emperor. He was trembling, his green eyes wide and full of fear, but Doukun could feel with a certain sense of dread that his terror wasn't going to bother the man above him. In fact, Doukun heard the Emperor speaking, an iniquitous smile on his face.
Child, hush! Be still. the Emperor commanded as the outer layer of Doukun robes came loose. Doukun continued to struggle, panic overwhelming him, but the Emperor paid him no mind.
No, no, please! Doukun pleaded, squirming and trying to free himself from the man's grasp.
In a moment, his inner robes came loose, and Doukun's screams were lost to the night.
It was quiet in the room, despite its size. Nakago stood in the doorway, calmly surveying the scene. The room appeared to be empty, but Nakago knew that the room's silence belied the fact that it was occupied. A faint rustling sound was heard as Nakago looked closer; there was a small form on the bed, covered by a crumpled white sheet.
Nakago stepped towards the bed, his boots making a sharp tapping noise as he moved. The form on the bed stiffened under the covers, though the person didn't make any move to hide. Nakago placed a hand on the wooden bedframe and glanced down at the form, still hidden beneath the white sheets. As he looked, he saw that there were blotches on the sheets dyed a dark maroon color. But it wasn't dye, Nakago knew.
It was blood.
I have no pity for the weak. Nakago stated calmly, breaking the silence that reigned in the room. He reached down and grabbed the shoulder of the boy on the bed. A startled whimper was his response, but the child didn't fight as Nakago forced him to sit up.
Wide green eyes stared up at him, and Nakago was partially surprised to see that they weren't brimming with tears. The boy, Doukun, sat there weakly, the blood-stained sheet wrapped around his lower half. His chest was bare, and Nakago could see fresh bruises and welts forming from the night before, when the boy had apparently tried to fight back.
Doukun and Nakago stared at each other for a moment before the youth averted his eyes and stared at the floor. Nakago's eyes narrowed and he murmured, I told you not to look at him. You brought this upon yourself.
Doukun said nothing in reply, but Nakago could see the boy's shoulders begin to shake.
This is how it will be from now on, brat. Nakago continued in monotone, his voice flat. You will come here every night to earn the right to live. Any fighting and you'll be punished - in more ways than one. This is how you will survive.
There was a long stretch of silence following Nakago's speech, and the child on the bed made no outwardly sign that he heard what Nakago had said. Nakago was contemplating on repeating himself when a soft voice broke the repose.
Why can't you just kill me instead? Doukun asked quietly, not once taking his eyes off the floor. Kill me now. It will accomplish what you want, right? Suzakuseikun will never be summoned. The child's arms fell limply on the stained sheets in front of him, his shoulders slumped and bare. What is the point of this?
Nakago maintained his composure, only raising an eyebrow at the thin boy's utterance. He understood the emotions the child felt, but his expression never changed. Coldly, Nakago replied, You are a child of Suzaku. That alone vindicates it.
The child said nothing, his face blank and his shoulders trembling. Nakago frowned as he watched, displeased by the sudden array of emotions the scene brought to his mind. The return of memories that he thought he had suppressed-
No, don't make me go again, please! Seiryuu, Seiryuuseikun, please! He's going to hurt me, going to make me touch him again, please, no, no, no-
Nakago abruptly snapped back to reality, and he realized that he was clenching his fists tightly, one of which had gone up to the hilt of his sword. Nakago frowned, his blue eyes narrowing into slits, and he hissed at the child on the bed, Get up and put your clothes on. There will be a maid waiting to take you back to your room. Say nothing.
With that, Nakago turned and stalked out of the room. Outwardly, he was calm and poised, but inside, his mind was raging from the memories and emotions that his recollection brought him. The sight of the child seated on the bed, his eyes wide in pain and his body beaten...
Nakago barely noticed the hallways as they streamed by him and he ignored anyone who tried to speak with him. He headed toward the training area to work off the sudden turbulence in his mind.