Disclaimer:    Mouse-chan owns a Nuriko plushie. 

Warnings:  Angst.   That's about all. ^^;;

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5. Abstraction (I)

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He'd been sitting at his desk for maybe forty-five minutes, staring blankly at the mounds of parchment that demanded his attention, when the familiar knock sounded against the door.

Chiriko would knock more slowly; Miaka wouldn't knock at all.  And, anyone else wouldn't dare disturbing me.  So, that leaves only….

"Come in, Nuriko," he called softly.

He didn't feel ready for this moment, he really didn't.  His emotions were still reeling and his mind was turning violent circles against his skull, and it was all he could do to force his palms to lie flat on the desk, to not knead them on his lap or twitch them back and forth against the wood…

After only a moment's pause, however, and before he really had a chance to regain his composure, Nuriko had pushed open the door and stepped inside.  He still moved with the same grace, the young emperor noticed, still carried himself more like a dancer than a warrior--and, even death hadn't drawn the flush of rose from his cheeks or the delicate beauty from his features.  The ache that had been drawing at his heart since the moment of this man's death surged up in him again, and it was a long moment before he felt steady enough to speak.

Meanwhile, Nuriko had come to a halt and clasped his hands respectfully in front of him, now had his head bowed and his eyes fixed on the floor.  "Good afternoon, Hotohori-sama," he murmured.  "I…I have a request."

The young emperor felt his eyebrow lift, was suddenly thankful that Nuriko's gaze was turned away from his face. "A request," he echoed—his voice, he kept low and deep; it was a tone more appropriate for greeting dignitaries than speaking to a friend.  But…then, Nuriko hardly fit into that category anymore, did he?  "What sort of request?"

The eighteen-year-old's eyes stayed fixed on the floor.  "There's been…some sort of mistake with my room," he said quietly.  "I-I'd like to request another."

"A mistake?"  His eyes narrowed.  "The maids have been keeping up with the cleaning of it, and Houki's been in to water the pl—"

"Iie…Hotohori-sama.  It's not that.  The room is fine, it's just...someone else must've been living there since I left."  He gave a short, strained laugh.  "I-It's filled with a woman's things, and obviously those aren't mine, ne?  So…so, there must've been some mix-up or something, because whoever that woman is, her things are in my room--and, she doesn't have to move them, or anything, but...I think I'd like a different room."  For the first time, those rosy violet eyes lifted from the floor, and met his gaze…and the twinge of fear that rested within them was enough to freeze him in his chair.  "Onegai?" Nuriko said in a small voice.  "I-I don't want to cause any trouble for her, who…whoever she is."

His head moved into a nod before he knew what he was doing, and he could only hope that Nuriko couldn't pick up on the slight waver that crept into his voice.  "Hai, I don't see that that would be a problem.  I'll have one of my advisors find you another room immediately."

"If…if possible, I'd like to be close to Miaka.  I know that there aren't many rooms left near hers, but maybe, since the others aren't here right now, I could use Chichiri's room or Tamahome's room or maybe even Tasuki's room?"

He was silent for a moment, considering.  "I…I suppose we could arrange for you to stay in one of their rooms," he said at last.  "There's also the option, however, of moving all three of you into the suites closer to my own quarters…for the sake of convenience, of course, and in case you ever needed anything else…"

Nuriko's face brightened.  "Would I be close to Miaka?"

"H…hai.  You could be right next to her."

"Ne, then, let's do that."  Nuriko smiled, and there was such happiness in his expression that it felt as if something were clenching against his heart, squeezing it mercilessly…  "Arrigato, Hotohori-sama."

"Dou itashimashite," he replied softly.  "I'll go inform Miaka and Chiriko of the change."

He made to get up from his chair, but was stopped by Nuriko's hand, snapping up from the smaller seishi's side so quickly that it seemed almost to appear out of thin air.  "I-Iie!" he exclaimed.  "Daijobu; stay here.  I'll go tell them."

He doesn't want me near him.  I can see it in his eyes.  He doesn't want to look at me…

He was ready to fold his hands on the desk and smile and say that it was all right, he had paperwork to finish, anyway…but, the next thing he knew, his body was sliding out of the chair and his feet were carrying him across the floor towards where Nuriko stood, and there something so fearful and childlike in those wide violet eyes that it scared him...

What am I doing?  It isn't as if I can force him to remember.  Besides, what if he's happier like this?  What if he can't remember because remembering hurts him?  What if...what if this is what he -wants-?  Who am I to take that away from him? 

His mind understood.  His mind was appalled that he would dare take the offensive like this, that he would dare let his own anger and frustration be taken out on Nuriko--it wasn't his fault, after all...!  His body, however, kept dragging him forward, until at last he was standing only a few inches away from the other seishi.

He came to a slow halt there, assuming a fairly non-threatening stance with arms at his sides and chin tilted slightly downwards...but, it didn't seem to matter.  Nuriko wasn't looking at him at all, was gazing off to the side with wide eyes, and he was inching slowly backwards as if trying to escape. 

Look at me.  Please.  Look at me, damn it.

But, Nuriko wouldn't look.  And, if he delayed any longer, this man was going to turn around, pull open that door, and disappear onto the palace walkway.  If he delayed any longer, he would never say what he needed to say...and, whether he liked it or not, something inside of him needed to make sure.  Something inside of him needed to hear the words from Nuriko's own lips, and in Nuriko's own words.

His voice was low.  "You really don't remember," he murmured, "do you, Nuriko?"
The slow backwards journey halted; something like recognition flickered into those wide, abstracted eyes, but they still didn't look at him.  "R-Remember what?" 

Don't do this to him.  You don't have the power to make him remember.  Trying will only hurt him, so don't try because you can't do anything, anyway!

But...  He drew a deep breath.  But, what if he could?

"When did you come to the palace, Nuriko?" he asked quietly.

Violet eyes blinked at him in surprise, and the pinkish lips worked soundlessly for a moment before any words bled out.  "I-I came a few months ago, when Miaka showed up."

"Why did you come?"

Nuriko was frowning--but at least he was looking at him, now.  "I-I had to.  I'm a shichiseishi and she's the miko."

"What happened the first time you met Miaka?"

"Sh-she was trapped under a gazebo with Tamahome.  I came forward and...dug her out."

"And, what about me?"  He took a long, heavy step forward, loomed above Nuriko like a predator above its cowering prey.  "Was that the first time you met me?"

There was a soft thud as the smaller seishi's shoulder blades struck against the door.  "N-No..."

"Then, when?  When did you first meet me?  Under what circumstances?""

Nuriko's eyes were wide and fearful; his back was pressing against the door with such force that Hotohori could hear the wood splintering.  "What does it matter?" he cried.

I can make him remember. I know I can make him remember...

"When was it, Nuriko?" he asked in a firm, quiet voice.  "When did you first meet me?"

"I-I can't remember exactly.  It was a long time ago!"

"How old were we?"

"I don't know, it was a long time ago!"

"No, it wasn't, Nuriko; it was three years ago, and you were being presented to me as a member of the Imperial Harem--as Lady Kourin!"  His voice was rising, but he couldn't stop it; something inside of him was writhing and he couldn't break free.  "You wore a green dress with red flowers.  Your hair was braided and twisted on top of your head, and you were wearing little blue earrings and a gold necklace.  You were standing between two other girls who were both keeping their eyes on the floor, but when you got up to the front, instead you looked up at me and you winked. You have to remember that!"

Nuriko's voice was low and shaky.  "I-I really don't know what you're talking about, Hotohori-sama, and I really ought to get back to Miaka--"

"No!"  In frustration, his hand sprang up from his side, slammed into the wood of the door just off Nuriko's right cheek.  "This is ridiculous!  You're Suzaku no shichiseishi Nuriko!  Your name is Ryuen!  Chou Ryuen!  You have an older brother named Rokou and a younger sister named Kourin, but she died when you were just a child and that's when you started dressing like a woman!"

A long, stricken silence followed.

Nuriko was staring at him with wide, shocked eyes; his lips were slightly parted as if he couldn't find the strength to close them.  "What?" he breathed at last.  "What did you just say?"

Suddenly realizing just what he was doing, the young emperor took a stumbling step backwards; his hands dropped limply to his sides.  "Nandemonai," he whispered.  "It doesn't matter."  He turned, began the slow, stumbling walk back to his desk--and stopped, frozen, as Nuriko's next words sliced into him like knives.

"Why does everyone keep trying to convince me that I'm something I'm not?" he asked in a low, angry voice.  "Is what I am so horrible?"

"That's not what I'm trying to do, Nuriko."  He sighed;  his shoulders slumped.  "I'm just trying to help you remember--"

"Remember?"  Nuriko gave a short, near-hysterical laugh.  "I can't remember something that didn't happen, ne, Hotohori-sama?"  For a moment, there was no sound but the far-off twitter of birds and the harsh in and out of Nuriko's breathing...and, then, there was the jingle of Nuriko's hand on the knob, the swish of the door sliding open.  "I-I'm going to see Miaka," he said in a low, tense voice.  "Let me know when our rooms are ready."

Slam.

Hotohori sighed, moved to his chair, and slumped down into it. 

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Chapter Notes:  As I've suddenly become afflicted with a migraine, I'm going to do yet another chapter-halving and stop here.  However, the second half of chapter five will most likely be done sometime tonight, as will *crosses fingers* the rest of the fic!  *cheer*  Anyway, arrigato to everyone who's reviewed!!  *high five*