Forever Young



May the good gods be with you,
down every road you roam.

This was it, the day he had been dreading for months passed. The day of reckoning, where his entire world would be shattered. The day he must say goodbye. Funny, that such small words carried so much weight and emotion. Hotohori sighed and flicked a lock of chestnut hair out of his face. His lean, chiseled face seemed sad, his chocolate eyes muted, his sensual mouth turned down slightly at the corners. She was leaving today, going back to her own world, her own time; and she was taking Tamahome with her. Suzaku had been summoned, her wishes granted, and now Miaka, Yui, and Tamahome were preparing to leave. For good. Hotohori could only pray for Suzaku to watch over her and guide her, for he would never see her again.

"Keep her safe," he prayed silently, turning his face towards the warm sunlight streaming through the palace window. "If you do nothing more for me, at least keep her from harm."

And may sunshine and happiness,
surround you when you're far from home.

Bitterness now graced his fine features as he watched the clouds sweep across a silky blue sky. Tamahome. He had stolen Miaka from him, taken her heart, held her love in his hand. Hotohori cared deeply for the girl from the future, as he had shown her on several occasions. And each time she had rejected him...for Tamahome. It was obvious they loved each other, though. And so, as he thought of this, his bitterness began to dissolve. Because all he wanted was for Miaka to be happy, and if Tamahome was the answer, well then, who was he to deny her that? As long as his love was happy, he could put aside his own feelings.

And may you grow to be proud,
dignified and true.

His roaming gaze now flickered to the teeming courtyard below. A hundred or more tiny figures were scurrying around like ants, preparing for the ceremony and ritual that would send their priestess home. The young emperor's gaze came to rest upon the object of his affection. The hard almost glare softened, and his eyes misted over in what could only be called a wistful fog. Even though she was the Priestess of Suzaku, she was still young and inexperienced in the ways of the world. She had grown so much since her first appearance in Hong-nan, but still...her experience and her years conflicted, and she continued to be naive and impressionable. Hotohori's mouth curled upwards in a gentle smile. She was so beautiful. He hoped that Tamahome would help her grow strong, to be the girl he knew she could someday be. Miaka may have appeared fragile and feminine, but her outer appearance hid inner strengths beyond even Hotohori's reasoning.

And do unto others,
as you'd have done to you.

Still lost in his daydream, Hotohori leaned once arm on the windowsill and stared at the young girl three stories below. She was so wonderful, and he had been hoping she would be the one to cure him of his loneliness. Ever since he was little, Hotohori had known of his destiny to protect the priestess. He had always harbored a secret hope that she would love him and stay with him, comfort him in his lonely life. It had seemed possible when Miaka came. She was pretty, smart, strong-willed, resourceful, and unfailingly nice and polite. Yes, it was her seemingly endless kindness that had really won him over in the end. She was kind to everyone, polite and caring, especially to him, knowing of his love for her. Even when she had pushed him away, all those times, she had done so with the utmost care, letting him know she still valued him as a friend, and even letting him kiss her. She had seemed perfect for him...until Tamahome entered the picture.

Be courageous and be brave,
and in my heart you'll always stay,
forever young.

"Keep your wits about you Miaka, for life will not be easy," he thought silently. "Be strong, and show the world what you can do."

He knew that even though they were separated by years and by Tamahome that he would always love her, nothing could change that...nothing. She would always hold a special place in his heart for she had been his first and only love. And he had lost her.

May good fortune be with you,
may your guiding light be strong.

Hotohori had prayed much over the last week, not only for her safety, but for Tamahome's as well. For now that she was leaving, he was to be her mentor and protector. She was stepping outside of the circle of her guardian warriors for the first time in months. Hotohori could only hope that the money-grubbing warrior would guide her down the right path and teach her the way of things, as he would have done. Hope and prayer were all he had left now, for he would have no way of knowing what would become of her once she got home. Nothing could comfort him, so he prayed fervently, asking for Suzaku's divine grace to be with her.

Build a stairway to heaven
with prince or vagabond.

Hotohori knew she could do great things with her young life if she wished, could become anything she wanted to be. She had the strength and the power, plus the divine grace of Suzaku. Sighing wistfully, the dark-haired prince shifted slightly and continued watching his bright-eyed love move below. Yes, she was destined for great things, he knew. It was almost visible in her aura; she seemed to glow with an inner light and her eyes seemed to beam inner strength and determination. Her head held high, she bore herself like royalty, people knew she was someone special from the moment they saw her slender form. Hotohori sank even deeper into his dreams and shifting reality, forgetting his despair and the impending ceremonies looming overhead.

And may you never love in vain,
and in my heart you will remain,
forever young.

Miaka bounced with happiness in the palace courtyard. She was finally going home; with her best friend and the man she loved. She wanted to shout for joy, jump up and down and scream to the world her happiness. Bubbling over, she waited impatiently for the ceremony to begin. Little did she know, but the watching figure above her did not share her happiness, he merely hoped hers would remain and maybe someday he could find peace.

"All the luck in the world to you and Tamahome, Miaka," the handsome ruler whispered. "I hope you will be truly happy."

The thought continued on its own: "You deserve all the love he has to give...if he ever hurts you...he will suffer...somehow..." disorientated fragments like these filtered through his mind. "Just be HAPPY, Miaka!" he whispered forcefully.

And when you finally fly away,
I'll be hoping that I served you well.

He hoped that Miaka would remember him when she left, an all that he had taught her. He wanted to be remembered and cherished, for he knew he would never forget her. But he couldn't keep her here against her will. She had finally found happiness and he couldn't deny her that. But why, why couldn't she love him the way he loved her? He could give her the world and so much more...Groaning, he realized that this was too much to ask. He should just hope he had made some sort of impression on her. He had tried to guide her, help her. It was all he could do to hope she would remember.

For all the wisdom of a lifetime,
no one can ever tell.

But he feared it would not be enough; feared it would desert her and she would forget, leaving China and all it's inhabitants in the dust, and ending up none the wiser. But, what Hotohori didn't realize was how much Miaka had grown in her time with him, that he had rubbed off on her, more then he thought. What he didn't know was that she would remember what he had taught her, whether consciously or or unconsciously, and it would serve her well in future years. His wisdom and maturity were beyond his few years and Miaka had learned much from this. More so then from Tamahome and everyone else put together. While in Hong-nan, Hotohori had been her role-model, though subconsciously. He had molded her, shaped her, in ways neither of them could begin to comprehend.

But whatever road you choose,
I'm right behind you win or lose.
Forever young.

Tears now stung his depthless eyes as he found himself finally accepting the fact that she was out of his reach. Finally letting go. A flood streamed down his face, salty and hot, leaving a tell-tale shine. But he would always treasure her and their time together. Deep in his heart, locked away for only him to see, would be the beautiful, young, and forever-grinning Miaka. In harder times he would draw upon these memories, and they would sustain him like nothing else. His love would span the years and distance between them and touch her in subtle ways, though he knew it not. He would keep her image alive and wait for the day when he would see her again.

Straightening and wiping his face, the emperor made his way down to the courtyard. The ceremony was about to begin, and he wouldn't miss it for the world.

Down below, a lone figure watched the stately ruler walk away with self-imposed resignation and smiled. "Thank you," he whispered. And feeling Miaka's hand on his arm, Tamahome walked with her towards their unknown future.

Forever young, forever young, forever young...