Disclaimer: First of all, Watase Yuu-sama is a goddess. I own none of anything used in this story. I still won't, even if I legally change my name to Watase Yuu. Damn. (Since I'm twisting around a lot of the original characters, does that make them mine? Hmm…) In any case, please do NOT, I beg of you, sue me unless you honestly want possession of pencils and scraps of notebook paper with bad beginnings to fan fics on them.
Warnings: Rated R for strong language, angst, shonen-ai/yaoi implications, sexual innuendo…and…well…that pretty much covers it.
Notes: Oh boy. This is a veeeeeery different type of story for me. AU for reasons very obvious right away. I am perfectly willing to be flamed. (Note the perfectly willing. I just won't listen to any flames I'm given.) Oh, and there will be small amounts of Japanese. Any Japanese used will be translated at the end of each chapter. I promise. Except where it should be obvious. (As in shichiseishi or the more commonly abbreviated form of seishi. We should all know what a seishi is by now.)
And, in trying to keep with an episode feeling…each chapter has two titles…sort of. ^_^ The first one is the official chapter title. The second one sort of…explains or emphasizes the first title or events in the chapter.
Chapter One:
"Pools of Blue"
The Very Depth of Bitterness
The large audience chamber was oddly quiet for once. The room was empty, pillars lining both sides of the hall, while the marble floor led to a set of marble stairs that seemed to reach to the ceiling. At the top of these stairs sat a throne carved out of gold, a painting of the phoenix god Suzaku covering the wall behind it. In the throne sat the Suzaku no shichiseishi Hotohori, the emperor of Konan. He frowned, leaning forward in the throne, placing his elbows on the armrests and knitting his hands together to create a flesh platform for his chin to rest on momentarily. He had banished his advisors and ministers from the room for a moment of solitude. In his silent contemplation, he began to think of Kutou. Now that it had been dealt with…
There was a twin banging from a set of doors, accompanied by footsteps. Hotohori straightened instantly, allowing his hands to remain where they were. Two soldiers melted out of the darkness, half-dragging, half-escorting a body with an unruly mop of blonde hair. From what Hotohori could make out, the man between the two guards was wearing armor and armed with a sheath that had probably housed a sword. But the sheath was empty now; the guards had probably confiscated it prior to bringing him here. Hotohori raised an eyebrow, watching the blonde. He had thought that Kutou had eradicated a tribe of them at least ten years ago. Needless to say, the blonde intrigued him…but he wasn't sure why.
"We gave orders that we were not to be disturbed," Hotohori snapped, glaring down at the soldiers. A frown traced his delicate, sculpted lips.
"A thousand apologies, heika," one said, "but this man was trying to gain entry to the palace." On cue, both soldiers shoved the blonde forward. He stumbled to the floor a foot from the staircase that led to Hotohori. The blonde made no immediate move to get up. The back of his chest plate had burn marks on it. Hotohori's frown deepened, inadvertently pursing his lips.
"Why bring him to us?" Hotohori wondered, punctuating the question with a delicate hand gesture. "Is this not trivial?"
"We believe him to be Kutou's shogun, heika," the other replied. "He bears a mark of Seiryuu."
Hotohori's eyebrows shot up. "Mark of Seiryuu…" The blonde got to his feet, dusting himself off as he did. Even with the distance that separated Hotohori from this man, his beauty was undeniable. Granted, he would have appeared far more attractive to Hotohori had he not been glaring at him. The blonde's blue eyes were narrowed into slits, almost shooting daggers up at the young emperor.
"Bastard!" the shogun cursed. "What gives you the right to invade our lands and kill innocents? What makes Suzaku so damn powerful to make him think that------"
One of the soldiers gasped in shock while the other kicked the shogun in the knees from behind. The blonde cried out in pain, collapsing once again on the floor. The second soldier drew his sword and, in one fluid motion, grabbed the shogun's hair, yanking his head back to expose his neck.
"Do not speak so to the emperor!" the second soldier snarled, bringing his sword to the shogun's throat. "Request permission to kill him, heika."
Hotohori's eyes locked with those of the shogun. The life had drained from the blue daggers of eyes in an instant, a flash of acceptance of death. All Hotohori had to do was say the word and the shogun would be dead, adding another death to the growing list of deaths by Konan's hands. No, Hotohori thought. To let him die now would be far too easy. The shogun must be made to suffer.
And suffer he would.
"Permission denied," Hotohori finally spat, standing gracefully.
The soldiers and shogun turned confused eyes to the emperor. Hotohori made his way down the staircase, each step bringing him closer to the blue, defiant eyes that insisted on taunting him. The soldier holding the general sheathed his sword while the other soldier pinned the shogun's hands behinds his back. The shogun made no movement to struggle, content to stare in anger at Hotohori who cleared the last step and turned his imperious amber eyes to the shogun.
"What is your name?" Hotohori demanded.
"Go to hell!" the shogun snapped.
"He asked you a question," the soldier growled, tightening his grip on the shogun's wrists.
A flash of blue sparkled on the blonde's forehead, growing in intensity. His bangs parted slightly to reveal a glowing character. Hotohori backed up on instinct, his eyes not believing what he was seeing.
A mark of Seiryuu.
"Leave me be!" the shogun shouted. A burst of energy, presumably ki, shot from his hands, slamming into the soldier who went sailing towards the far wall. Hotohori stared at the shogun in astonishment. Now he knew why the Kutou emperor had kept this man around, if only for entertainment value. The shogun sank to the floor again, hands resting in front of him for support, breathing heavily. Now Hotohori needed to know his name. He had to.
"You bear a mark of Seiryuu," Hotohori snapped, returning the shogun to reality. "Your name! Quickly, or we will kill you."
"What does it matter?" the shogun asked, his voice taking on a desperate, bitter note. "I'm dead anyway. My country exists in name only."
"Speak to a fellow shichiseishi," Hotohori crooned, making his voice as gentle as he could manage. "Your name, and you will be safe."
There was a moment of silence. Something flashed in the blue eyes…desire, perhaps? The shogun turned scared eyes upon Hotohori, taking in the emperor for a moment. He drew in a shaky breath, then averted his eyes.
"Nakago," the shogun whispered, the tone of finality behind it. "I am the Seiryuu no shichiseishi Nakago.
Hotohori smiled. He had thought himself lucky upon having Kutou's shogun in his grasp. Not only did he have the heart of the Kutou army, but he also had one of their shichiseishi. The day could not possibly be going any better. He knelt by Nakago, cupping the blonde's chin in his palm.
"We gave you our word. You are safe," Hotohori whispered. Blue eyes locked their gaze on the amber pools before them. But the blue was wide, full of fear. "You. Are. Mine." Nakago's eyes widened even more, noticing the lapse of the royal "we". Hotohori gently tilted Nakago's head to the side, then roughly pulled his head towards Hotohori's. At the last possible moment, Hotohori's head titled, allowing their lips to lock. Nakago made a muffled protest, yet made no move to resist. If it were possible, his eyes would have widened considerably more. Hotohori smiled against the shogun's lips, closing his eyes, deepening the kiss without realizing he was doing so.
Nakago jerked himself from Hotohori's grasp, falling unceremoniously backwards to the floor. Hotohori opened his eyes in amusement, watching Nakago stare at him in shock. This is wrong, Hotohori heard Nakago's blue eyes say. This is wrong. He should not be taking pleasure from this…from me…
"You belong to us now," Hotohori said simply, getting up off the floor and smoothing out the front of his robes.
"Touch me again, and I swear I'll cut you down where you stand!" Nakago spat, staggering to his feet and stumbling away from the emperor.
"You want to die, then?" Hotohori asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is death truly what you want?" Nakago looked to the floor, absently brushing strands of blonde hair from his face. "We offer you a choice. Life or death."
"'Life'?" Nakago demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hn. I believe, heika, that you mean 'life in prostitution'." Hotohori frowned. There was a challenge in Nakago's eyes, in his posture, in his very voice. It was challenge that Hotohori was more than willing to accept. And the way he had spoken his honorific…it sounded as though, even under the Kutou emperor, he had never allowed anyone the satisfaction of knowing that one man held power over Nakago.
"Die then," Hotohori snapped, mimicking the shogun's posture. "We care precious little for your welfare. However, we feel we are being more than fair."
"Fair?!" Nakago demanded incredulously, hands lowering to gesture with them. "You slaughtered my troops and innocent people and you call that fair?!"
"It is true," Hotohori replied, making no move to deny it. "We will neither deny nor denounce our actions. But we wish that you live. After all, how is what we will do to you different from what your former master would have done given the same situation?" Nakago stiffened, and Hotohori saw his hands clench into fists. Hotohori allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. It seemed that he had struck a sensitive subject. Excellent. "Perhaps you merely need time to think it over. After all, when was the last time you had something to eat or slept?"
"That's none of your damn business," Nakago replied. But there was no life behind it. Hotohori felt a small pang of satisfaction, but the satisfaction quickly melted. To break him this quickly…no, that would never do.
Hotohori turned his back on the shogun, slowly mounting the stairs to take him back to his throne. With a wave of a hand, he said, "Take him away. We will deal with him later."
In response, he heard twin sets of footsteps running forward to do as he asked. Three individual pairs of footsteps made their way out of the room, followed by the closing of doors. Hotohori smiled. This, perhaps, was going to be counted amongst the higher points of his year.
Hours later found Nakago sitting in a dungeon cell, knees drawn up to his chest, back against the wall. It was rather cold in the dark cell and the soldier guarding him assumed that Nakago did this for warmth only. He peered at Nakago through the bars of the cell from his chair. Nakago was going to have a very hard time trying to convince the soldier that he meant him no harm. That is, if the soldier got the idea into his head to attempt to speak to Nakago as if he were a civilized human being.
I am a Seiryuu no shichiseishi, a voice that sounded very much like his said. You work for the Kutou emperor. You can never, and will never, sell yourself to the royal brat of Konan to retain your life.
Nakago shuddered. The very thought of the Kutou emperor was enough to cause bad memories to spring to the surface of his thoughts. No one knew what the emperor of Kutou had done to him, those various nights that he had been called to the royal chambers presumably to discuss battle plans. No one knew. Or, if they did know, they kept quiet about the frequent nightly visits. Nights where what happened to him depended on the emperor's mood…
Damn it! Stop! He defiled you. The emperor of Konan took your revenge for you. Be happy. He did you a favor…
No. No, that revenge should have been MINE!
Nakago clamped his hands over his ears. This couldn't be him. It couldn't. He wouldn't be thinking such things. And yet, part of his mind that was the ruthless military commander that everyone thought him to be was shouting at him to strike at the emperor of Konan…to kill him with the powers granted to him by Seiryuu…rid Kutou of its aggressor.
But that would just be playing into the emperor's hands. He was not going to be anyone's puppet. Not any more.
Nakago then became aware of a set of footsteps. He looked up as a man came into view…a man whose blue hair was gently pulled back into a low ponytail. His armor was a cruel imitation of Nakago's own, and Nakago felt a sense of dread fill his heart.
"Sho---shogun!" the soldier sitting in his chair exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He gave the newcomer a salute.
"Shogun?" Nakago whispered to himself, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously.
"I'm looking for the prisoner heika sent down here earlier," the newcomer replied easily. Without another word, the soldier pointed directly at Nakago. While the shogun eyed Nakago with distrustful eyes, Nakago stood, his eyes meeting the musty ones that seemed to be piercing daggers at him. "So. You are Kutou's shogun."
Nakago gave him the barest hint of a nod. He wasn't sure he liked the way that the shogun paced outside Nakago's cell, like a wildcat ready to pounce upon him. Nakago kept his eyes steadily following him, his body remaining rigid.
"You are to come with me," the shogun spoke again. He turned to the soldier, still standing at attention. "Unlock the door."
The soldier nodded and hurriedly did his bidding, darting forward and with a fumbling hand slipped the key into the lock, turning it. Slowly, deliberately, he drew the door open. Nakago stood still.
"You are to come with me," he repeated. "Now."
"I go nowhere," Nakago returned, eyes narrowing a bit at the shogun.
"You come," the shogun repeated. "Or must I force you?" And, in that moment, the shogun's bangs parted to reveal a glowing red symbol behind them. "I'm sure Suzaku won't mind if I slaughter you here…but heika has other ideas."
Nakago's eyes went wide. This shogun…he was a Suzaku no shichiseishi! And his symbol was in the exact same place… Without warning, Nakago felt his fingers brush his forehead over the spot where his symbol rested. As if responding to his touch, the symbol flared, bright blue fighting against pure blood red.
"Hn. Seiryuu no shichiseishi," the shogun announced, crossing his arms over his chest. "Come. Heika wants to speak with you."
Nakago closed his eyes, a feeling of dread overcoming him once again. But, no. To show weakness now…that would not be suitable.
"Seiryuu…" Nakago whispered. "Please…show me what you wish of me…"
His foot slowly stepped forward, his other foot following. Yet, Nakago was strangely aware that this was not of his doing. Fine, then. If Seiryuu wanted him to go with this man, then so be it.
"Good," the shogun replied. "Follow me."
Nakago felt himself do as he was told, slowly mimicking the shogun's steps. Silence befell the two until Nakago could no longer stand it.
"Who are you?" Nakago demanded.
"You are in no position to ask me such a thing," the shogun replied, "Seiryuu no shichiseishi Nakago."
Nakago almost froze. He was at a disadvantage. Presumably, everyone in the Konan palace knew who it was that walked with the shogun of Konan. "Then…at least tell me what your emperor wishes of me."
"Hn," was all the shogun said. "Why you say that…'your emperor?' He is now your emperor, as well."
"Never," Nakago growled.
Nakago should have seen the movement before he did. The shogun spun around, grabbed Nakago's shoulders, and shoved him against a nearby wall. His face, a mask of anger and hatred, soon loomed before Nakago as the blonde made contact with the wall. Hard. Pain radiated through his armor, spreading like wildfire across his back. Nakago did not even have time to react before the shogun held a small dagger to Nakago's throat. The dagger glinted in the light; the cool metal breathed closely to his exposed flesh. Through bangs of blue, the symbol that marked him as a seishi of Suzaku burned, but not as brightly. Nakago took a moment to study it. The emperor of Kutou had seen fit to keep Nakago educated as to the names of his seishi enemies and the mark that signified them.
Oni, Nakago thought, staring hard at the mark. Ogre. Demon… And then he was able to link a seishi name to the symbol. Tamahome!
Finally, the shogun, Tamahome, pulled away from Nakago, concealing the dagger once again. Nakago's hand instinctively went to his throat where the blade had been only moments before. He had been very lucky to get off with his life, he supposed.
"You belong to heika now," Tamahome snapped, starting off down the hall. "Act like it."
"As you wish," Nakago heard himself say, his voice mincing formality, "Suzaku no shichiseishi Tamahome."
Tamahome looked as though he wished to pause, as well, yet did not. Nakago thought he saw the barest hint of a smile grace the shogun's lips for a moment. Nakago felt himself smiling, as well, triumphant in his small victory. They walked in silence for a few more moments before Tamahome stopped in front of a set of ordinary looking double doors. They were large and white, painted with a phoenix motif. Tamahome raised the back of his armored hand towards the door and rapped twice upon it with one of his knuckles. A moment later, a voice from within, slightly muffled by the doors, shouted, "Come!" In response, Tamahome shoved the doors open, then promptly stepped inside, leaving Nakago no choice but to follow.
The room was dimly lit, but Nakago needed no light to tell what was within this room. The scent in the air of cooked meat was enough to tell him this was a smaller banquet hall. As his eyes adjusted, he could see a long table, traditionally cut and low to the ground, spread out in front of him. It seemed, to him, to fill the entire room. Standing at the far end of the room, still wearing his golden robes from earlier, was the emperor of Konan. His arms were folded across his chest, hands lost in the large, billowing sleeves of the robes. Nakago felt his heart grow cold. Remembering what the emperor of Kutou had taught him about the seishi, he remembered hearing the emperor of Konan closely associated with the name Hotohori. Was he this…Hotohori?
Tamahome bowed formally from the waist, never taking his eyes off the floor. "I have brought Kutou's shogun as you ordered, heika." Nakago glanced over at Tamahome, watching his face to see if this would reveal any clues as to why he had been brought there. All he saw on Tamahome's face was confusion hidden by a mask of formality.
"Excellent." Nakago noticed that the emperor seemed truly pleased by this. His arms unfolded, raising his right arm to point at Tamahome. "We no longer require your services. Leave us." He might have started out with the traditional royal "we", but the "us" at the end of that statement did not have its formality behind it. It was meant to include Nakago.
"As you wish, heika," Tamahome replied. He rose, clicking his heels together, and marched out the doors, slowly closing the set of double doors that they had entered in. A bang escaped as he did so. Nakago jumped, spinning to look at the closed white doors.
He was trapped.
The emperor's hand was still outstretched to where Tamahome had once stood. It moved just enough so it pointed at Nakago. "You." The hand turned palm up; the finger outstretched still pointing towards him. "Come here." The emperor beckoned towards his own person, indicating quite clearly the direction Nakago was to travel. Nakago looked hesitant, eyes nervous for a half a moment. Then, finally, he strode across the floor, coming closer and closer towards the strong, untouchable figure that was the emperor. He stopped, keeping at least a foot between them.
"You sent for me?" Nakago demanded.
"Yes," the emperor replied, a smile tracing perfect lips. "I did." The lapse of the royal "we" was unnerving to say the least. "Please. Sit." He gestured to the table that rested behind Nakago. "I arranged for this for the two of us."
"Why?"
The emperor raised a sculpted eyebrow, a hint of amusement behind the gesture. "Am I correct in my assumption that you have eaten next to nothing over the course of the past few days?"
"Why concern yourself with my welfare?" Nakago wondered, not wanting to admit that what he said was, indeed, the truth.
"I have no need of you collapsing due to starvation," he replied simply. "Now, will you sit?" The barest hint of an amused smile traced the emperor's lips, amusement glittering behind his eyes. "Or are we to take our meal standing up?"
Nakago could detect a faint hint of mockery in the words. However, while he refused to admit it, Nakago was hungry…but this was a mild bit of satisfaction that he would not allow his captor to learn of. Nakago was feeling a bit faint…most likely from lack of food. He fixed the emperor with a firm look before abruptly turning and marching to the far end of the table. Reaching it, he spun smartly on his heel, looking at the emperor who was facing him from the other end of the table. Their actions seemed to be timed together as both cautiously got to their knees, sitting on their folded legs to appropriately reach the table.
"I'll ask you again," Nakago stated after a moment of silence, taking a glass of tea in his hands, "why concern yourself about my welfare?" He blew gently on the tea, watching the steam billow away from his breath. He stared at the green-tinted liquid within the porcelain cup for a moment before tilting some of the liquid within into his mouth. The warmth spread through him, relaxing him somewhat in the presence of the emperor.
"Why ask so many questions?" the emperor asked. "Is it not enough that I am willing to spare your life?"
"No," was the immediate response. "No one has ever given a damn about me. And I think you know that…Hotohori." Nakago saw the emperor stiffen for a moment, in the process of raising his chopsticks to his lips. The amber eyes that had stared at him so mockingly before looked up at him through slight lashes, staring at him.
"Most call me 'heika'," the emperor snapped. This response caused Nakago to surmise that he had guessed the emperor's seishi name correctly. "See that you do so, as well. You belong to me now, and should act accordingly."
"I belong to no one!" Nakago fumed. He slammed his teacup down on the table, droplets of green sprinkling out like a fountain. "Least of all you…a murdering shichiseishi that is a disgrace to your god!"
Nakago saw the hand that was gracefully clenched around the chopsticks clench tighter in anger. "You belong to me. End of discussion."
Nakago opened his mouth to reply, words of fire burning his mouth, his very soul. Then he stopped himself, watching Hotohori, the emperor of Konan. He appeared to be slowly moving in and out of focus to Nakago's eyes. He frowned, words forgotten. Nakago put a hand to his head, his hand inadvertently covering an eye, a vain attempt to alleviate the onset of a sudden headache…an attempt that was rapidly failing. His breath caught in his throat, more startled than anything else. And he stared at the amber eyes, desperately trying to keep one thing in focus amidst the black that threatened to consume him. Hotohori's entire face came into vision once again, a cruel smile tracing his lips.
"You. Are. Mine," the lips said, sound lost in ears that refused to accurately process the voice.
Before the darkness took over Nakago's mind completely, he had the strangest sensation that he was falling…falling into a dark tunnel of nothing.
Hotohori had watched with growing amusement, staring at Nakago as his eyes rolled back into his head, eyelids half-closing over tortured blue eyes. And then the shogun had begun to fall sideways, blonde hair fluttering like a banner around him. The image was far too priceless for him to forget. Nakago was far too easy to torture. The emperor of Konan allowed himself a small chuckle.
"Ah, my healer, you never cease to amaze me…the drugs worked faster than I would have thought," Hotohori whispered, staring at Nakago's unconscious body. He smiled to himself, dipping his chopsticks gracefully into a bowl of rice. "Now to begin the breaking of your soul, my treasure. Tamahome!"
In response, the doors slid open, the shadowed figure of the shogun of Konan standing in between the pale white doors. "Hai, heika?"
"Take him to our quarters," Hotohori ordered
"Hai, heika," Tamahome replied. He entered the room, speaking to Hotohori softly. "I have spoken to Kaen, heika. She is more than willing to serve him."
"Excellent," Hotohori told him. "Have the armor he wears transported to the room we requested for him."
During the course of the orders being handed out, Tamahome had approached the unconscious shogun, kneeling down and shifting him into his arms. The unconscious man weighed precious little now…almost as much as a woman might had she been decked out in armor. Tamahome managed a slight bow to Hotohori.
"As you command, heika," Tamahome said, voice barely above a whisper. He hurried off on his assigned mission, leaving Hotohori to finish his meal in silence. And, had anyone been in the room, they would have seen the sinister smile cross Hotohori's face once more.
Kaen hurried along the hallway in silence, hiking her robes to a few inches above the ground in order to walk a bit faster. When the emperor of Konan summoned you, it was not wise to delay, Kaen thought bitterly as she found her way through the many twists and turns of the imperial palace.
Especially since he has destroyed your country.
Kaen frowned, keeping her sarcastic side in check. She had to, if she was to properly attend to the emperor. She couldn't show any sign of hatred or fear to him. Not to him. And on she walked, her footsteps making the only sound on the floor of the hallway. She stopped, spotting Konan's shogun, a man she only knew as Tamahome, standing outside a doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Upon hearing her footsteps, he turned his head to look at her, eyes narrowing slightly.
"You're late," Tamahome said, his voice the barest hint above a whisper. "Heika sent for you fifteen minutes ago."
Kaen glared at him through narrowed eyes that matched his own. It was his gaze she was unafraid to match, his eyes she was unafraid to meet. Not daring to raise the volume of her voice over his own, she snapped, "How would you know?"
"He sent the order through me," was the smug reply.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between the two of them. Tamahome did not move aside to permit her entry, but he did not block it, either. He uncrossed his arms, gently reaching one hand out to brush against Kaen's cheek. Kaen gasped, jerking backwards. She stumbled backwards a few paces.
"Kuso!" Kaen whispered, a hand covering the spot he had touched. She glanced back up at him, his eyes and his face both bearing an amused expression. "How…how dare you!"
"I dare because, as of this moment, I am the second most powerful man in Konan." There was no need for him to say who the first powerful was; Kaen knew it all ready. He was second to the emperor himself. "I did you a favor, bringing you to heika. I saved you from a death that you should have received, no matter what my personal preference to you."
"Go to hell," Kaen snapped. "If you think you can make me think that I'm indebted to you, you're wrong. I serve Kutou's shogun now. I'm not yours to do with as you please."
"You would be…once he is dead," Tamahome announced with a cryptic shrug. "As soon as that happens, you become mine once again. And I have the feeling that you will not have as much…fun with him as you did with me."
Kaen felt her eyebrows draw downwards in a v, eyes narrowing. She was glad to be rid of Tamahome now. He always thought that he could have his free reign of her whenever he felt like it. Now she had a new master…a master he had appointed her to himself. So why was he causing her this delay? With another amused look, Tamahome rapped once on the doorway, and opened it, giving Kaen a mock bow from the waist.
"Heika awaits," he told her.
Kaen wasted no time in sweeping past him and into the darkened room. The only light within came from a few candles set up around the room…all of which were perfumed with flower scents. Mixed scents of lilacs, roses, and other exotic flowers perfumed the air, giving one the impression that one was in a garden rather than someone's personal bedchamber. She heard the soft click of a door being closed behind her and she shook her head. If Tamahome was hoping to intimidate her, he had another thing coming. She squared her shoulders and forced her mind to focus on its assigned task.
"Heika?" she asked, searching the dimly lit room for a silhouette of the figure of the emperor.
"Here," his voice, which now sounded oddly silky and beautiful to her own ears, replied from another room.
Determining the direction the voice had come from, she turned towards it and entered a smaller sub-compartment. A chair had been pulled toward the bed and within it sat a man, but Kaen could not determine if this was the emperor or not. Then she became vaguely aware of another figure on the bed. Who else was in the room? The figure in the chair beckoned to her and, having no choice but to obey, Kaen did what she as told, moving closer to the figure in the chair. Upon closer inspection, it was the emperor himself who sat there, clad in a white sleeping robe which had slightly slipped open to reveal the barest hint of pale skin. Kaen quickly averted her eyes.
"You sent for me, heika?" she asked.
"Hai," he replied, his voice retaining the silky tones of before. "You see him?" He gestured to the bed. "That is your new charge."
Kaen took the opportunity to look at the man on the bed. His blonde hair had pooled around his face, creating a sort of halo around him. The eyes were closed, lips slightly parted to reveal two rows of perfect white teeth. The shirt seemed to be pressed against the broad chest, indicating armor that should have been there but wasn't. The eyes were closed, so Kaen could not be sure…but she thought she recognized this man. The hair…the shape of the face…perhaps she met him in Kutou. But this man looked like he was the shogun of Kutou. When would she have met him?
"His name is Nakago," the emperor continued, a thin smile on his face. "You might have seen him before in Kutou, Kaen. We believe he is---was Kutou's shogun."
That just confirmed for Kaen what she had thought. Looking at him now, he seemed so helpless…and slightly drunk. Kaen recognized the drunkenness well enough; Tamahome wore that look often enough. Perhaps it was a common trait of a soldier.
"Anou…heika-sama? If you…don't mind my asking…what is Nakago-dono doing on your bed?" Kaen asked, forcing the words out of her mouth. Why was she asking? What right did she have to know this?
"He…was not feeling well at dinner," the emperor said smoothly. Kaen chanced a look up at the emperor. The eyes had turned down at the corners, glinting in amusement, lips pursed delicately as they often did when he was thinking on the spot. Kaen smiled a bit; she recognized that look. He was lying. "We did not want him to walk all the way to his rooms in that state. Our quarters were closer."
"I…I see," Kaen replied, trying not to let on that she knew her emperor was lying. "I'll have men bring Nakago-dono to his room, heika."
"See that you do," he replied, smiling a bit.
Kaen hurried to the front door, sending an overly eager Tamahome off for two men to help her bring Nakago to his quarters. This done, she returned back to the inner part of the room to wait in silence with the emperor of Konan for the men to arrive.
Nakago could not remember ever waking up with a hangover before, abstaining from alcohol whenever it had been offered to him. If he had not, however, he imagined that this was what it felt like. His head pounded furiously, and he found himself thinking back to dinner with the emperor of Konan…Hotohori. He had only touched a glass of tea the entire night. Nakago heard his mental voice groan. Somehow or other Hotohori had obtained drugs to put in it. That was the only logical explanation. Seiryuu only knew what Hotohori had done to him in that time!
He allowed himself a small auditory groan and slowly allowed his eyelids to open. The room decided to take its time about coming into focus. When it finally did, he found himself staring a painted ceiling through a thin, filmy canopy of red. A quick glance out of the corner of his eyes to both the left and the right revealed red paint with gold trim painted intricately around the walls. Beneath his hands he felt something that felt remotely like silk, but he highly doubted that was what he was resting upon. He sat up, moving as slow as possible so as not to disturb the throbbing feeling in his head.
And then he spotted something in a corner, all but hiding in the shadows. The something moved, indicating it was a person.
"Who's there?" Nakago snapped, his right hand flying to the spot where his sword usually rested only to find the hilt not there. It was then he noticed that he had been stripped of his armor, most of which he found resting against a chest of drawers against a wall.
All Nakago saw of the figure was a lithe silhouette clad in a robe, hair piled in an odd sort of "o" shaped design at the top of her head with the rest hanging down in a ponytail of sorts. As if making a decision, the person moved into the light. This, he saw, was a woman, eyes ice-cold, red-brown hair swept into an intricate design with a pure red ribbon trailing through her hair. The robe, he noticed, was diaphanous in nature, filmy and slightly transparent enough to reveal the features that lay beneath. Nakago felt his facial features draw together in disgust. Konan, apparently, had no decency left within it.
"Are you…feeling better, Nakago-dono?" she asked. She took long strides towards the bed, an attitude many men would call bold and improper. But what did a man know of a proper woman, Nakago chided himself, to make any such judgment? She stopped just short of the edge of the bed, meeting his gaze briefly. "Heika-sama said…you were not feeling well earlier."
"Who are you?" Nakago demanded, looking at her.
"My name is Kaen, Nakago-dono," she replied, eyes reluctantly gazing at her feet and not at his face. "I have been told that I am to serve you."
"Serve…me…?" Nakago asked, blinking in confusion. Hotohori would never order this for him…not unless… "Where am I?"
"Your bedroom, Nakago-dono. This room and the adjoining compartment belongs to you, as per heika-sama's orders."
Nakago frowned. Hotohori would never order this for him under any normal circumstances. The back corners of his mind knew what Hotohori wanted with him, threads similar to what the emperor of Kutou had wanted him for. He felt the headache slowly give way to nausea, a throbbing sensation pounding in the back of his mind as he felt most of the color drain from his face. He lowered himself back onto the bed again, fighting to retain what little composure he had left. Kaen jerked forward, intent on her duty.
"Are you all right, Nakago-dono?" she asked, her tone anxious. He did not dare answer her, fearing the loss of his composure or, worse, saying something he should not. When there was no answer, her voice sounded nervous as she spoke again. "I'll send for one of the healers…"
"No," Nakago managed to say, voice cracking into silence at intervals. "It will subside…"
Kaen frowned at him, beautiful eyes staring at him in disapproval. He gave her his best winning smile to reassure her. She smiled in response, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing her legs. He saw how the robe she wore fell now…slightly open to expose her chest area and… Nakago forced himself to look at Kaen's eyes, keeping his eyes away from her chest. He wasn't that sort of a man to take advantage of a woman. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Kaen spoke again.
"Nakago-dono? Do you recognize me?" she asked.
Nakago blinked. What sort of a question was that? "Should I?"
There was the barest hint of disappointment in Kaen's eyes for a moment before she reined in on her emotions and spoke again. "I was…hoping you would. It was a very long time ago, Nakago-dono, so I'm not surprised you don't remember. There some men who were trying to assault me. You were returning from border patrol and…you stopped them."
As she spoke to him, the words triggered something in his memory. Yes, that was right. Part of his mind was only vaguely aware of a voice, female and considerably younger than the voice he was hearing now, shouting for help…male voices telling her not to scream as no one would hear her anyway...and anger. Overwhelming anger that threatened to tear him up now as it had then. He had acted on anger, he remembered, allowing that to rule him when he had intervened…and part of him could not remember what he had done. He had released his anger, remembering the men screaming in pain…but what had he done?
Nakago shuddered involuntarily. Kaen glanced over at him, eyes flooded with concern.
"Nakago-dono?" she asked.
He glanced up at her, eyes tired. "I remember you…vaguely…but I…"
She smiled down at him, leaning forward, daring to place a silken finger on his lips. "Ssssh. Forgive me, Nakago-dono, if I have overtaxed what strength you have."
Nakago opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it at her amused smile. He cast a miffed glare at her that only served to enhance her amusement. She moved off the bed, retreating to her corner. It was only after she had left that he relaxed, letting his head sink into his pillows.
So that was the way the Konan emperor wanted it to be: Nakago used as little more than a servant. It was degrading, admittedly. But if that was what it would take in order for him to aid in reclaiming Kutou as it should be, then so be it. If Seiryuu willed it…
And then there was a sense of pent up anger boiling to the surface in the back of his mind. You hate your powers…you hate the emperor of Konan. Kill him. Kill him now. Claim your revenge.
Seiryuu willed he remained calm. It would be done. He stared up at the ceiling, mentally tracing the patterns above his head. Konan had enslaved Kutou; Kutou had fallen; he, the shogun of Kutou, was made a prisoner. He was also a Seiryuu no shichiseishi. Remembering that caused him to recall the legend of Seiryuu no miko; the legends had always said that a young maiden would come from another world when a nation was about to fall. The nation Nakago represented had fallen! Where was Seiryuu no miko when the country needed her?
She has forsaken you, the voice in the back of his mind taunted him. She has left you to die. She cares nothing for you.
As he lay there thinking these things, absently running over pointless facts in his mind, tracing the hidden patterns in the wood panels of the ceiling, he coherently thought one thing before he fell asleep once again.
We are alone.
…TBC…
Notes: Expect this to be a recurring theme at the end of a chapter. Chapter end, even more author's notes. Woo hoo! Okay. First off, as most of you probably noticed, I'm keeping with the Japanese version of the series. Hence the reason why you see "Seiryuu no miko" instead of "Priestess of Seiryuu". (Miko doesn't mean priestess, though. I believe it translates out to summoner or something like that.)
Now for the Japanese I used. Common words first!
A shogun is a military commander, highest rank I believe you can obtain in the Japanese military. This term I only apply to Tamahome and Nakago at this point in the story. Tamahome's currently the shogun of Konan; Nakago's the shogun of Kutou. Or rather…he was before Kutou was destroyed.
Heika is another common word I use, in conjunction with Hotohori. It means your majesty or his majesty. (I've seen it as both.)
Most of the time, you will also see me tack –sama onto the end of a title or a persons name. This is a term of respect, I THINK meaning something along the lines of my lord or such. So any time you see –sama, think servant respecting master!
Nakago has –dono tacked onto his name. This is the militaristic form of –sama, another term of respect. (Thank you, Dark Angel manga by Kia Asamiya! One of the characters has –dono tacked onto his name.)
Hai is another common one! That word just means yes.
Oni is translated in the sentence it appears in. I've seen it translated as ogre and demon, so I put them both there.
This is the end of the complicated Japanese rambling for the day. Okay…so…did you like? Flame? ::treads foot in circle on the floor:: Suggestions? Anything? Please?