Disclaimers:  I own Jiyuna… and no one else… plus I'm poor.

Search For the Shinzaho: Take Two

Chapter One: Meet Jiyuna

Warnings:  Tasuki/Jiyuna language.  They have such dirty mouths, and later on, a bit o' sexy-sexy.

Author's Notes:  I'm sorry to have to do it, but I must… this is a revision of my fic Search for the Shinzaho.  Those of you who have read it, eh, it was okay.  After looking over it one day, I decided… must fix must fix! (in exactly that crazed way…) so, I'm reposting it.  There are a lot of big differences, a lot of slight differences, and a lot of the same stuff.  Those of you who haven't read the first draft…. You didn't miss much.  Enjoy!

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It was a beautiful afternoon in Konan.  The birds were singing, the sun was shining brightly, a warm breeze ruffled the trees.  To one girl stumbling through the crowded streets of Eiyo, however, it was anything but a beautiful day.

The bustle of the city overwhelmed her, so she ducked into an alley and leaned heavily against the side of a building. Thinking back to the past few days, a terrible sorrow filled the girl, and one lonely tear slid down her cheek. Her mother, whom she had tried so desperately to save, was killed at the hands of the blonde man. Killed… for what reason? They had lived in a tiny village where they farmed the emperor's land. They had not once been inside the city gates, in fact, they barely ever heard any of the city's news. When the news finally did reach them, it was already months after it had happened. So why did the tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes show up at their 2-room house and demand the shinzaho? What was this shinzaho anyway?

The sadness she felt was replaced with anger.  Whatever the shinzaho was, it didn't matter, not any more.  Mother was dead, and she had nearly been killed escaping.  When a blue light flew from the man's hand, and Mother was dead, she had run.  She kicked open the back door and sprinted for the woods.

You didn't save her, Jiyuna, and you can't bring her back.

She groaned, clutched her left side tightly.  Jiyuna knew she hadn't quite managed the perfect escape.  Before she reached the trees, the blonde man had let that blue light fly from his fingertips, and it had struck her right below the ribs.  The pain was excruciating, but she hadn't stopped, hadn't paused as she ran toward the road that would take her to the city.  Now, the pain was beginning to become unbearable, and she still hadn't reached her destination.

I must get to the palace, she reminded herself, pushing off the wall with her free hand and stumbling out of the alley.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

Startled by the voice, Jiyuna looked up, realized she had just wandered into a dead end, and a gang of street thieves.  Baka, she thought, aren't you the smart one?

There were six of them, standing in a kind of line, with one crouched on the ground in the middle.  He was the leader, she deduced, by the way the others flanked him.  He rose in a fluid, cat-like motion, smiled what was supposed to be charmingly, and looked only menacing.  "What's your name, child?" he asked quietly.

Jiyuna took a step backward.  Oh, she was in trouble.  Six of them, one of her, and she was injured to boot.  Oh yes, she was in deep trouble.

The leader sighed impatiently.  "I asked you a question, bitch!  What's your name?"

If I can make it back to the marketplace, where there are a lot of people, they'll leave… I hope, she thought, still ignoring the question from the leader.

"Answer me, or you're gonna get cut," he said, inching forward, and brandishing a knife.

Jiyuna smiled serenely at the men, took a silent deep breath.  "Fuck you!" she spat, then spun and began to run.

She didn't look back, she didn't need to.  She could hear six pairs of booted feet pounding down the alley after her, the men making snide comments to each other as they ran.

The pain in her side was nearly unbearable.  She put a hand to it, pulled it away.  Bright, crimson blood covered her palm.  She was in serious, serious trouble.

Where are all the people? she wondered.  Five minutes ago, she'd been overwhelmed at the amount of inhabitants the city had.  Now, there wasn't a soul in sight.  That fact scared her.  It meant she'd gone the wrong way, and was going deeper into the territory of the thieves.  I'm not going to make it, she realized with a start.  I have no idea where I am, and I can feel myself slowing down.

Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and every intake of air caused a sharp, stabbing pain in her side.  Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, and she knew she could run no more.

She turned a corner, cried out as her foot struck a rock, and she went careening toward the ground.  At the last second, she got her arms under her and cushioned the fall a little.  Jiyuna knew she wouldn't be getting back up.  The thieves were upon her, and she was dead.

Better they than that blonde man with the unnatural blue eyes.

A hand was fisted in her hair, and pulled her head back painfully.

"I'm going to make you pay for that, little girl," the Thief Leader said, his mouth touching her ear.  Jiyuna felt the cold metal of the knife on her neck, closed her eyes against the evil looks of the men surrounding her.

Suddenly, she heard a commotion and a voice boom above the others.

"LEKKA... SHIIIIIIEEEEEN!!!"

Heat blasted over her, and she smelled smoke in the air.  The leader of the thieves had released his hold on her, and the knife was gone, as well.  The alley became quiet, surreally quiet.  Jiyuna chanced opening her eyes.  The six thieves lay around her, burned black.

"Are you okay, no da?"

She rolled onto her back, looked into a cheery, yet concerned, face.  "I..." she swallowed, squeezed her eyes shut.  "I don't think so," she whispered.  Her voice felt thick, like the words coming out were made of syrup.  A noise rose in her ears, what sounded like rushing water that got louder and louder.  Another voice was heard, but the words were almost lost in that deafening roar of water.

"'Ey, Chichiri, let's get her to Mitsukake."

Then Jiyuna passed out.

-----

"She'll be fine.  It seems the reason she passed out was more due to sheer exhaustion than the wound itself."

"Did you heal her, Mitsukake?" Miaka asked, anxiously looking over his shoulder at the girl who lay in the bed.

The tall doctor swallowed.  "No, not with my powers, but I did what any doctor would.  I cleaned and dressed the wound, adding some herbs to take the pain away."

All seven seishi, including Miaka, were standing at the foot of the bed where the young girl Tasuki and Chichiri had brought back to the palace was lying.

"I wonder who she is," the miko said.  "She's beautiful."

As the others nodded in agreement, Tasuki snorted.  "Are we sure she's a woman?"

The figure lying in the bed had long, straight, dark red hair, and the way sheet clung to her slender body left little doubt that she was, in fact, a woman.  Nuriko gave a Tasuki a not so gentle smack to the back of his head, sent him sailing across the room.  "Don't be rude, Tasuki-chan."

The bandit picked himself off the floor, rubbed his head, and muttered a few vulgar words.  "Who's being rude now?" he said in a low voice.

Hotohori stared at the young woman, at the long silky-looking hair, the long lashes, the creamy white skin and angular features.  It was amazing, he thought.  He'd fallen madly in love with Miaka the moment he saw her, but this woman, who appeared the completely opposite of the miko, gave the emperor hope that perhaps, he'd be able to find happiness with someone other than Miaka.

He shook himself, shrugged off the thoughts.  "We should leave her," he said.  "She needs to rest."

"Excuse me, Hotohori-sama."

He turned toward the voice.  "What is it, Chichiri?"

"Someone should stay with her so she won't be so frightened when she wakes up, no da."

Hotohori considered, nodded.  "Yes, you're right.  Very well, Nuriko, would you take first watch?"

The violet-haired seishi grinned widely.  "Hai, Hotohori-sama."

"Good.  Someone will come to relieve you in a few hours."

The group filed out of the room, each going off in different directions.  Miaka and Tamahome walked hand-in-hand toward the gardens, Chichiri dragged a complaining Tasuki off to practice spells, and Chiriko hurried down the walkway to the library to study. Hotohori caught up with Mitsukake outside the room where the girl lay sleeping.

"Mitsukake, a word, please?"

"Of course, Heika," the taller man said.  The two walked down the walkway to a bench that faced the pond, sat down.

"That wound," Hotohori began.  "Did it look to you the way it did to me?"

Mitsukake nodded solemnly.  "Nakago.  I'd recognize that kind of injury anywhere."

"That's what I was afraid of.  What does Nakago want with a peasant girl?"

The other man shook his head.  "I don't know, Heika, but if he's after her for something, then we must do what we can to protect her."

"I agree," the emperor said.  "I must speak with my advisors, go see Chichiri, if he senses anything out of the ordinary, alert me right away."

"Hai."  Mitsukake stood, walked briskly down the walkway, away from the room where the sleeping girl was being watched over by Nuriko.

Hotohori stood as well, cast a long glance at the closed door of the room.  He would, he very well knew, do more than everything in his power to protect that girl from Nakago.  As emperor, it was his duty to ensure the well being of all his subjects.  As a seishi, it was his destiny.  He sighed.  When she awoke, hopefully, some of the answers they were all seeking would be found.

In the small bedchamber, Nuriko settled gracefully into a chair beside the bed.  He had a feeling that the girl would be out for some time, so he got comfortable, expecting a long wait.  He swept a calculating look at the girl's face.  He'd seen the way Hotohori-sama had looked at her, with that same praising, intrigued look he'd given Miaka.  Nuriko knew that nothing and no one would tear apart the miko and Tamahome, and he was sure Hotohori knew, too.  Of course the emperor would be looking for someone else suitable to be empress.

The slim, petite seishi sighed.  It'd been all right, for a while, to be in love with the emperor, even knowing that nothing could come of it.  Now, as they were brothers, it was not right.  Nuriko knew he had no right loving another man, a man who'd never be able to love him back, and he was okay with letting it go.  He looked again to the slender, athletically built young woman unconscious on the bed.  When she woke up, he'd see what she was like.  He hoped she was good enough for his Hotohori-sama.

She was certainly beautiful enough.  The long hair looked soft and silky, and as a breeze drifted through the open window, a few strands caressed her cheek.  Her features were angular, hawk-like, a sharp contrast to the round, baby-like features of Miaka.  Her cheekbones looked razor-sharp, her nose small and pert.  Her chin had a small cleft in it.  Full, pink lips and pale, creamy-white skin complimented the dark hair.

Nuriko smirked.  The young girl's beauty rivaled that of Hotohori-sama, something that the young emperor hadn't seen until Miaka came along.  This girl was beautiful in a completely differently way than the miko, more exotically so.

Anxious to see what this girl's personality was like, Nuriko settled down to wait until she awoke.

Hours later, she hadn't stirred, and Nuriko's eyes were beginning to droop.  He slumped in the chair, yawned once, and dropped off to sleep.

In another room, in another hall, Tasuki frowned at Chichiri.  "What the fuck are you talking about, Chichiri?  How do you recognize her?"

The blue-haired monk shook his head.  His mask, the one that covered the angry scar over his left eye, lay beside him.  Tasuki had known for a few weeks now, and Hotohori had known almost immediately, but he had yet to address the rest of the seishi about it.  "I don't know, no da," he admitted.  "But something about her triggered my memory.  Something about when I was a child."

Tasuki said nothing.  Chichiri didn't talk about his past much, and when he did, it was more advantageous to shut up and listen.

"I was fifteen," Chichiri said, his one chocolate eye distant in memory.  "There was something going on in the village, no da.  Important people, coming to visit...na no da!"

The flame-haired bandit jumped at the outburst.  "What?  What is it?"

"That girl... that's Jiyuna... the princess of Hokkan Koku, no da!"

Tasuki stared at Chichiri.  "She's a peasant.  She's dressed like one, and the way she was runnin' from those bastard thieves was not the way a princess runs."

"No, Tasuki, listen, no da."  Chichiri edged closer to him.  "The emperor of Hokkan feared for his family's life.  The emperor of Kutou was searching for the secrets of how Hokkan's seishi called their god, no da.  He sent them away.  Sent them to my village for a short time, and then they moved on after a few weeks, na no da."

"So what you're tellin' me is that she was raised a peasant, but she is, in fact, fuckin' royalty?!"

Chichiri grimaced.  "Language, Tasuki, no da."

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

"No, no da.  When she wakes up, she can tell them.  If she even knows, no da."  Chichiri sighed.  He wasn't stupid, he had certainly put two and two together, and knew what was going on.

Nakago knew that she was royalty, and had gone after her… but for what?  What exactly did he want?