Prologue: Hopeless
Another day was starting in Eiyo, the capital city of Konan country. The sunlight was streaming down in soft, early morning rays over the palace, urging the birds to begin their joyful song of a new day. The light poured in through a window in the south wing of the palace, over two people happily asleep together. One was a joyful girl, her mouth turned up in a smile, her hazel eyes shut as she was still asleep, and her rich, auburn hair tied back in a loose braid. She was the one that the country called the "Priestess of Suzaku", and she had finally accomplished her duty. Her name is Yuuki Miaka.
Next to her, lying with his arms protectively around her, was a young 16 year old boy, his face extremely calm and peaceful, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, their gray-blue depths shining with love as he waits for his beloved to awaken. He cannot imagine life any other way, and all is perfect. His name is Sou Kishuku, Suzaku seishi Tamahome.
In the west wing of the palace, there lay a sleeping auburn haired 17 year old, out like a light and as unconscious as a log. The smell of alcohol was rich on his breath, but that was not a surprise, as he is a frequent of the local bar, and he had been out there late the last night. This was Kou Shun'u, who was known as the courageous, brash, and passionate Suzaku no seishi Tasuki.
The room near his was empty, but its occupant has always been a morning riser. The blankets on the bed were neatly folded and the whole room was tidy, as if no one ever stayed there, yet someone did. Next to the wall there was a table, on it there was one old mirror, old, yet still good. That was the only object in the room. Its occupant had left early for the pond, where he sits to watch the sun rise in the courtyard. He remains still, sitting on a rock jutting over the edge of the water. The ever-present mask lay beside him, the smiling face a welcome sight to others, hiding the scar that would not heal. A maroon eye gazed across the still waters, the world at peace. This was Ri Houjun, Suzaku seishi Chichiri.
In the north wing of the palace, in a room that is locked from the inside, lay a beautiful young person. Not much of an early riser, the occupant was just lying in the bed. The rich, violet hair pulled back in its customary braid lay across his shoulder and over the pillow. Thick, black eyelashes concealed expressive orbs of violet emotion. Although they usually showed strong emotion, it isn't usually the emotion that he was feeling then. In fact, the only time when you could see what he is actually feeling is when he's unconscious. The only time he lets down his guard is when he is in his room with the door locked. His pale, creamy, smooth skin contrasted greatly with his hair and eyelashes, making him seem frail. If you knew him in person though, he would seem far from frail to you, both mentally and physically. This is the heart of the seishi, the strong one, Chou Ryuen, Suzaku seishi Nuriko.
In the east wing, there was a closed door, with guards stationed in the corridors all around the room, keeping their constant vigil. The room was the emperor's chambers, although the man inside felt anything but mighty.
Lying on his side, curled up in the massive bed in the middle of the room, lay a young man of 18. According to a lot of people, he is the most beautiful man in the whole country, at the least. It's ironic, because he is feeling different from that.
The light coming in from his window streams onto his face, so he rolls over, his eyes still shut tight. His silky rich brown hair tied back in its customary loose ponytail was slowly falling free of its bindings, flowing over the pillow and across his face. With all his heart, he wished that it weren't morning, yet night was so long and lonely.
The seishi's job to support the miko was finally finished; they could all go back to their normal lives, the country in peace. Normal life…he didn't want to go back to it… the friends that he has grown so close to in the last year or so…he didn't want them to leave.
The man, Seishuku Saihitei, emperor of Konan, Suzaku seishi Hotohori, slowly opened his eyes, his true feelings showing after keeping them inside for the longest time. To those who didn't know him, he seems perfectly all right. But if you did know him, enough to know what he looks like every day, you would see the tears threatening to spill from his golden eyes, and the look of utter loss, grief, and hopelessness on his face. Looking at him, some might think that he had the look of a man who had had a bad night. In fact, the look on his face was actually telling the world that he had lost all hope. The tears never came though. He wouldn't let them. He was the emperor, he has to be strong and protect his country. He has had so much grief in his life now; being merely 18, even if he wanted to, he has no more tears to give.