Hotohori sat very, very still. The snake reared back, his head cocked at a dangerous angle, the diamond on his back flaring as the scales rippled in displeasure. The yellow, slit-like eyes were set, unblinkingly, on Hotothori's transfixed ones. It swayed gently from side to side, waiting for it's prey to move.

Suddenly the eyes bulged out, the mouth parted to reveal glistening ivory fangs and the body of the snake went rigid. A blur had passed clean through its head and planted itself, with a quiet thump, in the loose dirt. Hotohori watched blood blossom from its bulging eyes and calmly looked over to see the slanted silhouette of his savior.

"You could have been killed. That serpent was deadly." The wind-swept ebony hair of Nuriko was just settling away from his face as he lowered his dagger-throwing arm smoothly. His beauty chilled Hotohori because he was, well, a he.

"We don't believe so. But thank you all the same." Hotohori replied softly. Nuriko frowned, his downturned eyes betraying his disapproval. The fine silk of his clothes rustled as he took a step towards Hotohori- today he wore a saturated indigo emroidered with gold and mauve dragons, climbing up his chest to encircle his throat, locked in combat. Hotohori marveled at the projection of his two egos- the female inside, and what he really was.

"I wish that your majesty would be more careful. It is difficult for some of his subjects not to worry about him when he puts himself in such danger." Nuriko said carefully. He had given up the dress of a girl for Miaka, the first woman he had ever loved. Hotohori remembered how when she had called the gods with the talismans and wished to return home with Tamahome, eradicate Yuhi's previous trama in order to right the wrong and convince her to come home with her as well, and ensure peace, safety and prosperity for the future of Hotohori's empire, Nuriko had been torn inside but had not reverted to his female side. That was four months ago. Miaka had not returned since then- they really didn't know if she could. Besides, their world's time, or so she had told them, was much different than her world's time. Only days had passed for Miaka and her new life with Tamahome in the strange land of 'Japan'.

Hotohori returned his gaze to the slaughtered serpent twisted on the ground. He studied the glisten of the scales, the blankness of the eyes that seemed no flatter than they had in living.

"None of our subjects should worry. We've escaped one serpent's sting, and now We are protected from all serpents. Thanks to Miaka."

Just saying her name brought a new wave of sorrow in his heart that he did not let reach his face. He had to hide his pain from everyone, even the Celestial Warriors, whom he had grown closer to than anyone else. He had a kingdom to run. Everyone expected him to be strong and that was exactly what he was going to do.

"That doesn't mean that you should sit in the garden and play with death, with all due respect your majesty."

"What should I do then, Nuriko? Lock myself up in the palace and wait until I die? At least there I'll be safe, right?" Hotohori said, startling himself with the vehement taste of his words. Nuriko flinched and Hotorhori felt him lower his eyes.

"That's not what I meant. I just hate seeing you wait like this."

Hotohori was silent.

"You do your fair share of waiting." He had seen Nuriko sit out on the marble railing sometimes, at odd hours of the night when he didn't know anyone was watching, staring at the sky and murmuring to the moon. He had even seen him cry when he knew that darkness shielded his tears.

"How...?" Nuriko began, hesitant, but then he decided not to adress it. Hotohori wondered if he was embarrassed or just annoyed and unwilling to express it.

"I'm sorry I saw you. It was accidental." Hotohori looked back up at Nuriko to gauge his expression. He had turned his face from him with the pretense of twisting his fine hair into a braid. Nuriko was a lousy actor, and Hotohori knew that he was only using this moment to gather his expression. Hotohori marveled at his delicate movements, learned from years of impersonating a girl. When Nuriko looked back up, his gaze was stern.

"I suppose you are right. We've all been waiting for something. All of our lives have been stopped, and our purpose has been taken away. But maybe it's time to move on to what we should do. What we can do, instead of what we wish we could do."

Hotohori chuckled bitterly.

"I have always had a purpose- I am the ruler of this empire. I am the man who makes all of the decisions. I will never escape my purpose." He drew the bloody dagger from the earth, staring down at the wretched body it had passed through, and walked to face Nuriko. Nuriko was stricken by his words, but he accepted them without argument. Hotohori cleaned the blade and then handed the dagger back to Nuriko as he passed by him without another word.