Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi was created by Watase Yuu, and is © her, and by Shogakukan, Flower Comics, Movic, Bandai, Studio Pierrot, and TV Tokyo. One Tin Soldier: words and music written by Dennis Lambert and Brian Potter, © 1969 by ABC/Dunhill Music, inc.
Spoiler warning: spoilers up to episode 24 of Fushigi Yuugi.
One Tin Seishi
Miaka was in absolute heaven.
All her seven seishi were gathered, Tamahome was back with her where he belonged, preparations were being made for the Suzaku summoning ceremony, and best of all, dinner had just ended, so she wasn't hungry at all. Well, at least she wouldn't be hungry for the next few minutes, anyway.
Smiling happily, she leaned against Tamahome's strong shoulder, and daydreamed to the sound of Chiriko's beautiful flute music. She daydreamed about her upcoming life with Tamahome, and rejoiced in the sheer joy of simply being with him. In perfect happiness, she daydreamed about the three wonderful wishes that would soon be granted her by the God Suzaku as the haunting flute melody filled the room. And then Tasuki went and ruined the mood.
"Oi! Cant'cha play anything else, Chiriko?" he yelled. "We've heard that song a million times already - OWWW! Stop it!"
Tasuki tried to protect himself from the volley of projectiles that were flung at him by various Suzaku seishi, but by then, it was too late. Chiriko had stopped playing and had already put down his flute.
"If you don't like my playing," he said softly, "you can always - "
"Don't listen to Tasuki no da," said Chichiri quickly, nodding towards where the red-haired bandit was currently being sat upon by Mitsukake to keep him from making any more mischief. "We love your music na no da!"
"Please don't stop playing!" pleaded Hotohori, still wearing his little bucket hat after a busy, tiring day of being the Emperor of Konan Country.
Chiriko smiled and nodded, then half-raised the flute to his lips, but he was interrupted before he could again start playing by Tamahome.
"You play the flute every night. Don't you ever get tired of it?" asked Miaka's true love. She momentarily considered pounding his head into the floor.
"Uh, no..." said a confused Chiriko. "Why would I?"
"I don't know," said Tamahome, feeling lost. "Maybe... maybe you might wish that someone could take over one night, so you could rest or something..." He wisely stopped trying and shut up before Miaka injured him.
As Chiriko frowned and shook his head, Nuriko cried out joyfully, "I know! I could sing a song instead! There's one that I've been practicing for..."
"No offense, Nuriko, but we'd rather hear the flute, okay?" said Tamahome quickly.
"I could sing," offered Miaka. Everyone turned and looked at her searchingly. Miaka stared back. She didn't know why she had offered to sing; the words had just popped out of her mouth.
"Uh, if you want to..." said Tamahome.
"Sure, why not no da?" offered Chichiri. Meanwhile, Nuriko pouted in a corner.
"Okay, I will!" Miaka took a deep breath and prepared to sing, but suddenly, she couldn't remember any songs at all; her mind was completely blank. Her seishi watched her expectantly, while she desperately searched her memory for a song, any song at all.
Finally, after long moments of panic, a melody came to her. It was an English song, but she knew the Japanese translation, and having no other option, she began to sing it, thinking, "Here goes nothing..."
"Listen, children, to a story
That was written long ago,"
Miaka winced at the wrong notes she sang, but forced herself to continue.
"About a kingdom on a mountain,
And the valley folk below.
The mountain people had a treasure,
Buried underneath a stone;
The valley people sought that treasure..."
Suddenly, Miaka noticed that everyone in the room, all her seven seishi, were staring at her. In horror, she stopped singing. "Oh, I'm sorry it was so bad!" she cried out, her face red with embarrassment. "Please, Chiriko, just keep playing, okay?"
The reply was loud and universal.
"No way! Miaka, keep singing!"
"Don't stop now no da!"
"&#! I wanna find out what happens next!"
Astonished, Miaka asked, "You actually liked my singing?"
"Of course we did!" said Tamahome, with a huge smile plastered across his face. Miaka looked around, and all her other seishi seemed to agree with him. Feeling immensely relieved, she continued the song.
"The mountain people had a treasure,
Buried underneath a stone;
The valley people sought that treasure,
Sought it for their very own.
Go ahead and hate your neighbour,
Go ahead and cheat a friend,
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing,
Come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after...
One tin soldier rides away."
As Miaka began the second verse, Chiriko picked up his flute, and added a wonderful accompaniment to her singing. With much greater confidence, Miaka continued singing.
"The valley people sent a message
To the kingdom on the hill,
Asking for that buried treasure,
Tons of gold for which they'd kill.
The mountain people sent their answer,
'With our brothers we will share
All the riches of our mountain,
All the treasures buried there.'
Go ahead and hate your neighbour..."
Miaka sang the refrain a second time, and looked around the room as she did so. All her seishi seemed to be listening intently to the song. "Wow, everyone's really getting into the story," she thought, and hoped she would remember all the words to the third verse.
"The valley people cried in anger,
'Mount your horses! Draw your swords!'
They killed all the mountain people,"
Gasps could be heard around the room.
"So they earned their just rewards.
As they stood beside the treasure,
On the mountain dark and red,
They turned the stone and looked beneath it.
'Peace on Earth' was all it said."
Chiriko stopped playing his flute abruptly, and dropped it. Miaka's voice trailed away. "What's wrong?" she asked. Before he could answer, he was interrupted by the other seishi.
"It's not fair! It's just not #'ing fair!" wailed Tasuki.
"Did they all die?" asked Hotohori, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair tightly.
Miaka didn't understand. "Did who all die?"
"The mountain people! Did anyone survive?"
"Uh... it was just a song..." said Miaka, uncomprehending.
"They didn't even fight back!" said Tamahome, fighting back tears himself.
"They were too peaceful no da. They couldn't even fight to save their own lives..."
Nuriko simply punched a hole through the closest wall. "It shouldn't have happened that way!" he yelled. "Why couldn't someone have stopped it?"
Finally, Miaka realized that her seishi didn't think of her song as simply a song, but as a story that had actually happened. She hastily tried to tell them the truth, but before she could open her mouth, Chiriko rushed out of the room. "Chiriko!" she cried out to his retreating back.
"What is it, Suboshi?" asked Nakago, mildly annoyed at the interruption.
"It's my brother," said the young Seiryuu seishi, slightly shaken. "He sent a message..." His greatly bandaged arm bore mute testimony to the length of the message that his twin brother Amiboshi, currently masquerading as the Suzaku seishi Chiriko, had sent to him by cutting the characters into his own flesh.
Suboshi held out a page full of writing. "I copied it out; it was a bit messy," he said, glancing at his arm. "I think it's a poem or something..."
Nakago took the page and read it silently. Suboshi stood and watched him uncomfortably, wishing he was somewhere else; anywhere else. He thought of the story written in the poem that his brother had sent. All those people dying for nothing, he thought sadly. Dying like our parents died...
Nakago didn't even look up from the page. He said, in a commanding tone of voice, "Get out." Suboshi complied gladly and immediately.
As soon as Suboshi left, the blond Shogun ripped the page up into little tiny pieces that scattered all over the floor around his feet like snow. His face was completely blank, showing no emotion whatsoever. He looked up, away from the pieces of paper on the floor, and stared into space, silent and unmoving.
As Nakago stood, surrounded by the pieces of Amiboshi's message, a tiny breeze swept through the room. It swirled through the small pieces of paper, and picked some of them up, carrying them away. As the wind left the room, it seemed to carry with it the haunting strains of a foreign melody...
Go ahead and fight your neighbour,
Go ahead and cheat your friends,
Do it in the name of your revenge,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing,
Come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after...
One tin seishi rides away.