Chapter Three
"Are you perfectly comfortable, Lady Nuriko?" a nervous servant asked for the tenth time that hour.
She stifled a sigh of irritation. Why did he have to keep asking that? Of course she wasn't comfortable. The jolting of the stupid carriage had nearly shaken loose her teeth as they passed over every pothole in the godforsaken empire. Her buttocks had gone numb from sitting on a thinly padded seat for the last six hours and no amount of fidgeting could produce anything but a dull ache. But wait, ladies weren't supposed to fidget, were they? She felt her features twist into a snarl.
"Do you want anything?" he continued anxiously. "A book? Tea, perhaps?"
"What I want," she replied irately, "Is for you to leave me alone. I cannot bear spastic behavior at this time in the morning. Kindly take your twitching and spasming elsewhere."
He took one look at her face and fled. His mistress was notorious for her temper.
With a sigh she settled back into her seat, determined to sleep if at all possible. Her peace, however, was to be short lived. A brief rap on her window brought her forcefully back to consciousness.
"Pumpkin," her father, His Royal Highness the emperor of Hokkaido said, riding up beside her. "We shall be arriving at the palace within the hour, so I want you to clean up and look pretty."
"Of course, Daddy," she said with a bright, vapid smile. 'Hmm....maybe his horse will buck and break his neck. Then, I can run over his corpse with this carriage, a couple of times just to be sure. I wonder if this thing goes in reverse... Anyway, after that, I shall scrape up his remains and give them to the bandits in those ghastly mountains...'
"Daddy," she continued cheerily, "What can you tell me about my intended?"
Her intended, the entire reason for the expedition. She hadn't known about him until the day they had left for Konan. The day after, actually.
****Flashback****
(Her father, throwing open the curtains to reveal bright sunlight.)
Nuriko: Wha - It's noon. Why the hell did you wake me so early?
King: Up and at 'em, sweetie. We're going for a little road trip.
Nuriko: Where?
King: You'll find out....
****Forward Three Days****
King: I think you should know, honey bunch, the real reason we are taking this trip. Nuriko: What? You mean, it wasn't to get me a new wardrobe?
King: No, but I'm sure you'll get lots of pretty new clothes where you are going.
Nuriko: (suspiciously) Where are we going?
King: (Brightly) You're getting married to the emperor of Konan! Congratulations sweetie, we'll be there in another couple of days.
Nuriko: (screech) What?! Let me out, you fat bastard! You are going down!
********************
Her father had apparently forgotten the entire incident, lulled into complacency by her outwardly docile behavior.
He scratched his head, wearing a puzzled frown. "Well I do not remember much. I think he is younger than you. Yes, yes he definitely is. Beyond that, I cannot tell you much. I have not seen him since he was born. As I recall, he was quite the hideous baby, with a huge head."
"Oh great, nine years younger," she pronounced in disgust. "I can see it now; some scrawny, pimply faced pubescent boy, with a squeaky voice. 'Hi Nuriko! I am the emperor of Konan. Let's go make an heir. As of last week I'm ready! My name's -'" her voice dropped from her slightly nasal imitation of the bridegroom to her normal tone. "What is his name, anyway?"
"Shrew, Shoe, Shir, Cher, something like that. The name doesn't matter pumpkin," the king said placatingly. "The point is that you'll get to be empress of a great big country."
Nuriko kept talking, foul mood refusing to be soothed. "He won't be old enough to have chest hair," she continued in disgust. "Mind you, I am not overly fond of chest hair, but I would prefer it if for my husband waxing was an option, as opposed to never having grown any in the first place."
"I do not think he is quite as young as that, sugar pie," her father said in a reproving tone. "And anyway, even if the match is not quite as ideal as one could wish, at least you will have several weeks to accustom yourself to the notion at the palace."
"Actually, sire, not quite that long," a scout interrupted, politely clearing his throat. "We have just received word that the advisors of the emperor are quite anxious to have an heir and wish the wedding to take place tomorrow. They are, after all, in the midst of a war."
"Great, a war. That's just peachy! Can you add assassination to my list of things to worry about?"
"Now pumpkin...."
************************
"Good morning, Your Majesty, and a joyous morn it is as well!"
"Huh-?" Hotohori raised his head blearily at the cheerful tone of his advisor's voice. Such glee usually meant something unpleasant to him. The sunlight struck his eyes with a palpable blow. "It's dawn! You let me sleep in! What happened?"
"We decided to let you have the day off, with only one thing on your schedule."
He looked at them suspiciously. "What is it? Oh no - it isn't my birthday again, is it? That's not fair, I thought I just had one last year." He flopped back on to the bed and hid his head under a pillow. Not another stupid formal occasion. The last birthday ball had bored him to tears.
"No, something better," he replied in a singsong tone.
"Oh God, it isn't New Year again, is it?" Those parties were even worse.
"No, even better than that!"
"Christmas? Please, no!!"
"Better still!"
"I suppose it's too much to hope that you've declared this dynasty in violation of the Mandate of Heaven and are appointing someone else to succeed me?" came the muffled question from where he was burrowed in covers.
"No, better still! You're getting married today!"
A long silence ensued. Finally, Hotohori's plaintive prayer broke it.
"Suzaku why couldn't that have been rat poison I swallowed last night instead of an aspirin?"
"...So she arrived late last night and I am to marry her this evening," Hotohori concluded.
Tamahome, surprisingly enough, was the one to offer unfeigned sympathy. "An arranged marriage? That's tough, buddy. Especially considering what they say about foreign princesses..." He cast a surreptitious look at Miaka. Predictably, she took the bait.
"What do they say about foreign princesses?"
He grinned. "Woof."
If anything, Hotohori looked even more depressed. "I know this is a terrible imposition, but could you scout her out for me? They've tripled the guard force on me until three weeks after the wedding."
"Wait, you're not actually considering marrying her, are you?" Miaka asked, aghast.
"No, no, I just want to know what I am running away from."
"Of course we will. Then, when we are properly awed at the sheer number of ways she resembles a dog, we'll help you bust out and hang low for a while. No, don't mention it," Tamahome said with relish, cutting off Hotohori's stammered thanks. "This is gonna be fun."
************************
Nuriko knelt before the statue of their god, Suzaku, in the main shrine. Supposedly she was there to offer thanks for her luck at snaring an emperor and to reflect on her new life. In reality, she was stalling.
'I can't marry him,' she wailed mentally. 'I'm too young and pretty to be subjugated to a horrible fate like that! I don't want to die in labor two years from now. I won't! I refuse! I'll commit myself to a convent first! I'll go on a hunger strike first! I'll lock myself in my room! I'll - ooh, wait, that's not a bad idea. Though maybe not actually locking myself in my room, but making them think I did. And while they're trying to scare me out, I can.... perfect."
Nuriko rose, her serene outer countenance now matching the satisfaction she felt inside. The ruby eyes of Suzaku glittered portentously in the light of the candles.
************************
Miaka and Tamahome burst into Hotohori's room, interrupting his pacing mid- stride.
"Well?" he demanded.
Miaka's first words filled him with foreboding. "Can you say bimbo? She has absolutely no mind of her own. Every other sentence to her father ended with, 'of course Daddy, whatever you want.' Every sentence to anyone else was an order to see to her comfort. I'm sorry, Hotohori, but you are going to marry a prissy debutante unless we get you out of here and I mean now."
Tamahome started talking right on top of her. "Forget that, Hotohori. Can you say babe? What a fox!"
"There was no character in her appearance," Miaka said primly.
"Oh, yes. Damn you flawless perfection."
"Flawless perfection? Really?" Hotohori was intrigued despite himself.
"Oh yeah. Hot damn! Alabaster. That's the only way I can describe her skin. Creamy and white without a single blemish -"
"Excuse me? Bim-bo."
"Nice and curvy," he continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "Though in all fairness, her legs weren't as long as Miaka's -"
"Thank you."
"-but they were definitely nicer. Oh man, I've got to tell you, her chest - wow. Large, yet perky, I have never seen a nicer set of boo-"
"Pig!" Miaka slapped Tamahome upside the head. "She's a stupid bimbo! Bimbo! Are you listening?"
"-And the way she walks, she sort of shakes her hips and her shoulders, then her chest starts to jiggle - she even makes it look perfectly natural!"
"She can't be a virgin, no one who looks like that could be one. You are getting used goods, Hotohori."
"Shut up, Miaka. Anyway, she has clear blue eyes and long hair that would go to her toes if she ever let it down. It's bronze. Bronze! It looks so incredibly soft -"
"Bimbo! Anyone?"
"Really, bronze? Naturally?"
"Yeah, it looked natural enough. And the way she dresses leaves plenty to the imagination. She's got excellent taste and even if she is a slut, she doesn't look it."
"How did she look? I mean did she look happy to be there?"
Tamahome hesitated. "Well, that's the catch. When she was alone, she looked kind of...pissed. But when her father or anyone else was here she looked, um, I don't know how to describe it -"
"Bimboey."
"Right, bimboey. Wait, is that even a real word?"
"Look, Tamahome, it's the best I can do. Take it or leave it."
"Right, bimboey. Anyway, I'd think twice about trying to split. There are worse things you could be married to."
"There are also better women I could be married to." Pointedly, Hotohori didn't look at Miaka. "Looks will fade one day and I would rather not be chained to an empty headed shrew the rest of my life. Were you serious about the offer to get me out?"
"Yeah, though I think you could be making a big mistake. But if it's what you really
want -?"
"It is."
"Then we'll go find room to hide you back at our old place. Damn, you could probably hide under a pile of laundry and never be found."
"I don't think so. I left an awful lot of panties back there and I don't want Hotohori to see them."
"But you let me see them all the time! You even made me do the smell test!"
"Yeah, well I want his respect."
"So what, mine doesn't matter..." Their voices trailed off as they turned a corner down the hall.
With a weary sigh he slumped bonelessly into a padded chair. How strange that all of his hopes should now rest on Tamahome. He could learn to like the man yet.
************************
Nuriko sighed in satisfaction as she slipped into men's clothing. She had almost forgotten how comfortable cross-dressing could be. Well, except for the part about binding her chest. That was just painful.
She was an old pro at sneaking out of palaces by now, but even so, the guards in this one seemed especially incompetent. Within ten minutes she was on her way strolling merrily down the street. Well, skulking in the alleys, at least. Being cocky was what had gotten her caught last time. She winced a little at the memory of the beating that stunt had earned her. Of course, it hadn't left any scars that would decrease her value. Or at least not any that were readily visible.
She shivered, trying to shake off the unpleasant memories. That had been the last time her father had tried to sell her into a marriage, back when she was sixteen. She had been no more inclined to be bought than she was now. With grim pleasure she reflected upon what he must have felt when he heard that she was gone. Shock, probably. And that she had run off with her dowry money to set up on her own was even worse. Shock would have turned to fury when he couldn't find her at once. Imagine, a mere female daring to defy him, the king! What really ate at him was how easily she had outwitted him. She had spent a year on her own, prospering as a fashion designer. Her clothes had been world renown and made her wealthy beyond all expectation - until he caught up with her. The last five years had been spent locked up within the palace, heavily guarded. When word of her rebellion slipped out, her affianced had stalked off in a huff and not a single marriage offer had come for her until now. Now, as he was wont to do, her father had let her previous insurrection slip from his mind in light of the new offer. And if he did not choose to recall it, well then, in his mind, it hadn't happened.
She sent a brief, fervent prayer up to whoever was listening. "Oh God, please don't let me get caught again."
************************
Tamahome was enjoying his friendly bantering with Miaka. As of late, there hadn't been nearly enough time to tease her as much as she deserved.
"Do you remember when we first met and you told me, pay up or put out? Wow, you were lucky all I did was tell everyone you are a human slave trader."
"I still think you were overreacting," he argued. "I mean, I wouldn't really take you up on it, even if you agreed."
"Why not?" Now she was offended. "Aren't I good enough?"
"I don't know.... that bimboey princess was much cuter."
"I don't know that I'd call her cute."
Tamahome paused for an exaggerated moment. "Yeah, I think you're right. I wouldn't call her cute."
"Thank you."
"I would think 'sex pot' suited her better."
"I wish you wouldn't talk about her that way." Tamahome craned his neck to look at Miaka. She had sounded unusually somber. The sky was darkening ominously as clouds rolled in.
"Why?" he asked bluntly.
"Um, it's nothing."
"C'mon, tell me."
"I said it's not important."
"You know you want to tell me."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do too, dotoodotoodotoodotoodotoodotoodotoodotoodotoo!"
"I respect you and it makes you sound like an ass!! Are you happy now? Oh!" she clapped her hand over her mouth in consternation.
"Um...I don't know what to say..."
"Never mind." Miaka changed the subject swiftly. "Um, Tama, why are we walking through the slums?"
"We lived in them?" He was relieved the subject changed.
"No, I meant this part of the slums, you moron. Isn't this the area where that gang leader lives who threatened to castrate us if you ever stepped foot on to his territory again?"
He waved a dismissive hand. "Relax. It's a shortcut."
"Why couldn't we have taken the longer way? What if we get attacked by unfriendly gangsters?"
"We won't run into people like that."
"Oh, and what are they?" she asked snidely. "Peace loving church missionaries?" Standing before them was a group of shady looking characters; the only type of men she ever seemed to run into when she was with Tamahome.
"Let's go ask."
"No, no, let's not. Let's run away very fast."
"C'mon Miaka, buck up. Where's that adventuring spirit?"
"It ran away."
He coughed dryly. "How incredibly brave of you."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of a prick?" The men cut off his reply.
"Tamahome, you're behind on your payments."
"Damn! Is there anyone you don't owe money to?"
"Let's go get something to eat," Tamahome said with a nervous chuckle.
"Too late." The men had ringed up around them.
************************
"Emperor!" The advisors burst into his room.
"I am not the emperor," he responded automatically. "And what?"
They plowed over his protest. "Your intended bride, the Princess Nuriko, has escaped!"
Hotohori stared at them, literally unable to comprehend what they were saying. "What?"
"The princess has escaped! When a maid knocked on her door to see if she needed help with her preparations, there was no answer. Her father was immediately suspicious and had the door removed from its hinges. They found all of her personal belongings, as well as everything of value in the room, missing." The man's face twisted into a scowl. "She had pulled a similar trick last time her father had arranged a marriage for her, but no one thought she'd have the audacity to do so again."
'This is a really bad time to start singing carols of joy,' he reminded himself sternly.
"I had not thought she would have that much audacity myself, either," he agreed mildly. "Well I suppose the wedding is called off."
"Until we find her." Hotohori turned to the source of the voice. Before him stood the emperor of Hokkaido, no longer looking fat and jolly. "A third time being thwarted I will not bear. If she tries to mutiny again, I will kill her myself."
At the determined look in his eyes, he shuddered. Silently, he sent his best wishes after the princess, this time for her own sake.
************************
"Very well, I'm a reasonable man," the ringleader said to the two in not very reasonable tone. "I'll give you thirty for the girl."
"Thirty?" Miaka's protector was clearly outraged. "She's worth forty!"
"Forty?" Now it was her turn to be outraged. "I'm worth at least fifty! And are we talking gold? I am the priestess of Suzaku, after all."
"Heh. Are you really?" Tamahome ground the heel of his palm into his forehead. "You'll fetch a good price in Kutou."
Belatedly, she realized her mistake. "You know where I'd fetch an even better price? To the emperor here. In Konan."
The man gave her a considering look. "No, it'd have to be the emperor of Kutou. Slave trading's illegal here, after all."
"C'mon, I'd make sure he let you go," Miaka wheedled.
"No. And I still say thirty."
"No way! 45!"
"I am not for sale!!" Miaka bellowed, her head rotating three sixty and fire shooting from her eyes. Ramming her captor into a wall, she flipped the stunned body and sent it flying. Simultaneously, Tamahome struck.
"Miaka, get down," he shouted as he threw a man into a wall.
"No way! Do you know what's in the middle of that street?"
"You?"
"No! A big pile of horse - eeeauhh!!!!! Tama!"
"What?! There was a knife flying at your head."
"Excuses, excuses. Hey, watch it buddy!" A man pulled her up and pressed her against the wall. Miaka's voice took on the quality of a sport's broadcaster.
"The knee goes up and the hand goes down. Tamahome is on the attack. That's one down. Wait, wait - there's one behind Tamahome! Will this be the end of our hero? Well no, the priestess is still safe. Her protector ducks, pivots and the man is down! Well folks, we've had our moment of truth. Men do not kick each other in the nuts. How disappointing."
"Do you ever shut up?"
Miaka continued without a response. "Now that our attackers are down, sports fans, I will show that I am decidedly unsportsmanlike. Yes, I will kick a down opponent."
"Miaka, what are you doing?" Tamahome asked in horror.
"I'm making sure they don't perpetuate their evil line."
"What - behind you!!!" Time seemed to slow for Tamahome as Miaka turned to see a man behind her with his sword upraised. Fear held her paralyzed as he pulled the weapon back and pointed it at her chest.
"Time to die," he said with a cruel smile.
"Miaka, no!!!!" Tamahome roared. She closed her eyes, waiting to feel the cold metal penetrate her flesh. The moment before impact, a body knocked her out of the way.
She opened her eyes to see Tamahome fall to his knees, clutching his chest where blood was seeping out from between his fingers. Slowly, he collapsed onto the street, blood pooling about his still body. A clap of thunder sounded, bringing rain pouring from the heavens.
Slowly, the men got to their feet.
"Your turn."
"Are you perfectly comfortable, Lady Nuriko?" a nervous servant asked for the tenth time that hour.
She stifled a sigh of irritation. Why did he have to keep asking that? Of course she wasn't comfortable. The jolting of the stupid carriage had nearly shaken loose her teeth as they passed over every pothole in the godforsaken empire. Her buttocks had gone numb from sitting on a thinly padded seat for the last six hours and no amount of fidgeting could produce anything but a dull ache. But wait, ladies weren't supposed to fidget, were they? She felt her features twist into a snarl.
"Do you want anything?" he continued anxiously. "A book? Tea, perhaps?"
"What I want," she replied irately, "Is for you to leave me alone. I cannot bear spastic behavior at this time in the morning. Kindly take your twitching and spasming elsewhere."
He took one look at her face and fled. His mistress was notorious for her temper.
With a sigh she settled back into her seat, determined to sleep if at all possible. Her peace, however, was to be short lived. A brief rap on her window brought her forcefully back to consciousness.
"Pumpkin," her father, His Royal Highness the emperor of Hokkaido said, riding up beside her. "We shall be arriving at the palace within the hour, so I want you to clean up and look pretty."
"Of course, Daddy," she said with a bright, vapid smile. 'Hmm....maybe his horse will buck and break his neck. Then, I can run over his corpse with this carriage, a couple of times just to be sure. I wonder if this thing goes in reverse... Anyway, after that, I shall scrape up his remains and give them to the bandits in those ghastly mountains...'
"Daddy," she continued cheerily, "What can you tell me about my intended?"
Her intended, the entire reason for the expedition. She hadn't known about him until the day they had left for Konan. The day after, actually.
****Flashback****
(Her father, throwing open the curtains to reveal bright sunlight.)
Nuriko: Wha - It's noon. Why the hell did you wake me so early?
King: Up and at 'em, sweetie. We're going for a little road trip.
Nuriko: Where?
King: You'll find out....
****Forward Three Days****
King: I think you should know, honey bunch, the real reason we are taking this trip. Nuriko: What? You mean, it wasn't to get me a new wardrobe?
King: No, but I'm sure you'll get lots of pretty new clothes where you are going.
Nuriko: (suspiciously) Where are we going?
King: (Brightly) You're getting married to the emperor of Konan! Congratulations sweetie, we'll be there in another couple of days.
Nuriko: (screech) What?! Let me out, you fat bastard! You are going down!
********************
Her father had apparently forgotten the entire incident, lulled into complacency by her outwardly docile behavior.
He scratched his head, wearing a puzzled frown. "Well I do not remember much. I think he is younger than you. Yes, yes he definitely is. Beyond that, I cannot tell you much. I have not seen him since he was born. As I recall, he was quite the hideous baby, with a huge head."
"Oh great, nine years younger," she pronounced in disgust. "I can see it now; some scrawny, pimply faced pubescent boy, with a squeaky voice. 'Hi Nuriko! I am the emperor of Konan. Let's go make an heir. As of last week I'm ready! My name's -'" her voice dropped from her slightly nasal imitation of the bridegroom to her normal tone. "What is his name, anyway?"
"Shrew, Shoe, Shir, Cher, something like that. The name doesn't matter pumpkin," the king said placatingly. "The point is that you'll get to be empress of a great big country."
Nuriko kept talking, foul mood refusing to be soothed. "He won't be old enough to have chest hair," she continued in disgust. "Mind you, I am not overly fond of chest hair, but I would prefer it if for my husband waxing was an option, as opposed to never having grown any in the first place."
"I do not think he is quite as young as that, sugar pie," her father said in a reproving tone. "And anyway, even if the match is not quite as ideal as one could wish, at least you will have several weeks to accustom yourself to the notion at the palace."
"Actually, sire, not quite that long," a scout interrupted, politely clearing his throat. "We have just received word that the advisors of the emperor are quite anxious to have an heir and wish the wedding to take place tomorrow. They are, after all, in the midst of a war."
"Great, a war. That's just peachy! Can you add assassination to my list of things to worry about?"
"Now pumpkin...."
************************
"Good morning, Your Majesty, and a joyous morn it is as well!"
"Huh-?" Hotohori raised his head blearily at the cheerful tone of his advisor's voice. Such glee usually meant something unpleasant to him. The sunlight struck his eyes with a palpable blow. "It's dawn! You let me sleep in! What happened?"
"We decided to let you have the day off, with only one thing on your schedule."
He looked at them suspiciously. "What is it? Oh no - it isn't my birthday again, is it? That's not fair, I thought I just had one last year." He flopped back on to the bed and hid his head under a pillow. Not another stupid formal occasion. The last birthday ball had bored him to tears.
"No, something better," he replied in a singsong tone.
"Oh God, it isn't New Year again, is it?" Those parties were even worse.
"No, even better than that!"
"Christmas? Please, no!!"
"Better still!"
"I suppose it's too much to hope that you've declared this dynasty in violation of the Mandate of Heaven and are appointing someone else to succeed me?" came the muffled question from where he was burrowed in covers.
"No, better still! You're getting married today!"
A long silence ensued. Finally, Hotohori's plaintive prayer broke it.
"Suzaku why couldn't that have been rat poison I swallowed last night instead of an aspirin?"
"...So she arrived late last night and I am to marry her this evening," Hotohori concluded.
Tamahome, surprisingly enough, was the one to offer unfeigned sympathy. "An arranged marriage? That's tough, buddy. Especially considering what they say about foreign princesses..." He cast a surreptitious look at Miaka. Predictably, she took the bait.
"What do they say about foreign princesses?"
He grinned. "Woof."
If anything, Hotohori looked even more depressed. "I know this is a terrible imposition, but could you scout her out for me? They've tripled the guard force on me until three weeks after the wedding."
"Wait, you're not actually considering marrying her, are you?" Miaka asked, aghast.
"No, no, I just want to know what I am running away from."
"Of course we will. Then, when we are properly awed at the sheer number of ways she resembles a dog, we'll help you bust out and hang low for a while. No, don't mention it," Tamahome said with relish, cutting off Hotohori's stammered thanks. "This is gonna be fun."
************************
Nuriko knelt before the statue of their god, Suzaku, in the main shrine. Supposedly she was there to offer thanks for her luck at snaring an emperor and to reflect on her new life. In reality, she was stalling.
'I can't marry him,' she wailed mentally. 'I'm too young and pretty to be subjugated to a horrible fate like that! I don't want to die in labor two years from now. I won't! I refuse! I'll commit myself to a convent first! I'll go on a hunger strike first! I'll lock myself in my room! I'll - ooh, wait, that's not a bad idea. Though maybe not actually locking myself in my room, but making them think I did. And while they're trying to scare me out, I can.... perfect."
Nuriko rose, her serene outer countenance now matching the satisfaction she felt inside. The ruby eyes of Suzaku glittered portentously in the light of the candles.
************************
Miaka and Tamahome burst into Hotohori's room, interrupting his pacing mid- stride.
"Well?" he demanded.
Miaka's first words filled him with foreboding. "Can you say bimbo? She has absolutely no mind of her own. Every other sentence to her father ended with, 'of course Daddy, whatever you want.' Every sentence to anyone else was an order to see to her comfort. I'm sorry, Hotohori, but you are going to marry a prissy debutante unless we get you out of here and I mean now."
Tamahome started talking right on top of her. "Forget that, Hotohori. Can you say babe? What a fox!"
"There was no character in her appearance," Miaka said primly.
"Oh, yes. Damn you flawless perfection."
"Flawless perfection? Really?" Hotohori was intrigued despite himself.
"Oh yeah. Hot damn! Alabaster. That's the only way I can describe her skin. Creamy and white without a single blemish -"
"Excuse me? Bim-bo."
"Nice and curvy," he continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "Though in all fairness, her legs weren't as long as Miaka's -"
"Thank you."
"-but they were definitely nicer. Oh man, I've got to tell you, her chest - wow. Large, yet perky, I have never seen a nicer set of boo-"
"Pig!" Miaka slapped Tamahome upside the head. "She's a stupid bimbo! Bimbo! Are you listening?"
"-And the way she walks, she sort of shakes her hips and her shoulders, then her chest starts to jiggle - she even makes it look perfectly natural!"
"She can't be a virgin, no one who looks like that could be one. You are getting used goods, Hotohori."
"Shut up, Miaka. Anyway, she has clear blue eyes and long hair that would go to her toes if she ever let it down. It's bronze. Bronze! It looks so incredibly soft -"
"Bimbo! Anyone?"
"Really, bronze? Naturally?"
"Yeah, it looked natural enough. And the way she dresses leaves plenty to the imagination. She's got excellent taste and even if she is a slut, she doesn't look it."
"How did she look? I mean did she look happy to be there?"
Tamahome hesitated. "Well, that's the catch. When she was alone, she looked kind of...pissed. But when her father or anyone else was here she looked, um, I don't know how to describe it -"
"Bimboey."
"Right, bimboey. Wait, is that even a real word?"
"Look, Tamahome, it's the best I can do. Take it or leave it."
"Right, bimboey. Anyway, I'd think twice about trying to split. There are worse things you could be married to."
"There are also better women I could be married to." Pointedly, Hotohori didn't look at Miaka. "Looks will fade one day and I would rather not be chained to an empty headed shrew the rest of my life. Were you serious about the offer to get me out?"
"Yeah, though I think you could be making a big mistake. But if it's what you really
want -?"
"It is."
"Then we'll go find room to hide you back at our old place. Damn, you could probably hide under a pile of laundry and never be found."
"I don't think so. I left an awful lot of panties back there and I don't want Hotohori to see them."
"But you let me see them all the time! You even made me do the smell test!"
"Yeah, well I want his respect."
"So what, mine doesn't matter..." Their voices trailed off as they turned a corner down the hall.
With a weary sigh he slumped bonelessly into a padded chair. How strange that all of his hopes should now rest on Tamahome. He could learn to like the man yet.
************************
Nuriko sighed in satisfaction as she slipped into men's clothing. She had almost forgotten how comfortable cross-dressing could be. Well, except for the part about binding her chest. That was just painful.
She was an old pro at sneaking out of palaces by now, but even so, the guards in this one seemed especially incompetent. Within ten minutes she was on her way strolling merrily down the street. Well, skulking in the alleys, at least. Being cocky was what had gotten her caught last time. She winced a little at the memory of the beating that stunt had earned her. Of course, it hadn't left any scars that would decrease her value. Or at least not any that were readily visible.
She shivered, trying to shake off the unpleasant memories. That had been the last time her father had tried to sell her into a marriage, back when she was sixteen. She had been no more inclined to be bought than she was now. With grim pleasure she reflected upon what he must have felt when he heard that she was gone. Shock, probably. And that she had run off with her dowry money to set up on her own was even worse. Shock would have turned to fury when he couldn't find her at once. Imagine, a mere female daring to defy him, the king! What really ate at him was how easily she had outwitted him. She had spent a year on her own, prospering as a fashion designer. Her clothes had been world renown and made her wealthy beyond all expectation - until he caught up with her. The last five years had been spent locked up within the palace, heavily guarded. When word of her rebellion slipped out, her affianced had stalked off in a huff and not a single marriage offer had come for her until now. Now, as he was wont to do, her father had let her previous insurrection slip from his mind in light of the new offer. And if he did not choose to recall it, well then, in his mind, it hadn't happened.
She sent a brief, fervent prayer up to whoever was listening. "Oh God, please don't let me get caught again."
************************
Tamahome was enjoying his friendly bantering with Miaka. As of late, there hadn't been nearly enough time to tease her as much as she deserved.
"Do you remember when we first met and you told me, pay up or put out? Wow, you were lucky all I did was tell everyone you are a human slave trader."
"I still think you were overreacting," he argued. "I mean, I wouldn't really take you up on it, even if you agreed."
"Why not?" Now she was offended. "Aren't I good enough?"
"I don't know.... that bimboey princess was much cuter."
"I don't know that I'd call her cute."
Tamahome paused for an exaggerated moment. "Yeah, I think you're right. I wouldn't call her cute."
"Thank you."
"I would think 'sex pot' suited her better."
"I wish you wouldn't talk about her that way." Tamahome craned his neck to look at Miaka. She had sounded unusually somber. The sky was darkening ominously as clouds rolled in.
"Why?" he asked bluntly.
"Um, it's nothing."
"C'mon, tell me."
"I said it's not important."
"You know you want to tell me."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do too, dotoodotoodotoodotoodotoodotoodotoodotoodotoo!"
"I respect you and it makes you sound like an ass!! Are you happy now? Oh!" she clapped her hand over her mouth in consternation.
"Um...I don't know what to say..."
"Never mind." Miaka changed the subject swiftly. "Um, Tama, why are we walking through the slums?"
"We lived in them?" He was relieved the subject changed.
"No, I meant this part of the slums, you moron. Isn't this the area where that gang leader lives who threatened to castrate us if you ever stepped foot on to his territory again?"
He waved a dismissive hand. "Relax. It's a shortcut."
"Why couldn't we have taken the longer way? What if we get attacked by unfriendly gangsters?"
"We won't run into people like that."
"Oh, and what are they?" she asked snidely. "Peace loving church missionaries?" Standing before them was a group of shady looking characters; the only type of men she ever seemed to run into when she was with Tamahome.
"Let's go ask."
"No, no, let's not. Let's run away very fast."
"C'mon Miaka, buck up. Where's that adventuring spirit?"
"It ran away."
He coughed dryly. "How incredibly brave of you."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of a prick?" The men cut off his reply.
"Tamahome, you're behind on your payments."
"Damn! Is there anyone you don't owe money to?"
"Let's go get something to eat," Tamahome said with a nervous chuckle.
"Too late." The men had ringed up around them.
************************
"Emperor!" The advisors burst into his room.
"I am not the emperor," he responded automatically. "And what?"
They plowed over his protest. "Your intended bride, the Princess Nuriko, has escaped!"
Hotohori stared at them, literally unable to comprehend what they were saying. "What?"
"The princess has escaped! When a maid knocked on her door to see if she needed help with her preparations, there was no answer. Her father was immediately suspicious and had the door removed from its hinges. They found all of her personal belongings, as well as everything of value in the room, missing." The man's face twisted into a scowl. "She had pulled a similar trick last time her father had arranged a marriage for her, but no one thought she'd have the audacity to do so again."
'This is a really bad time to start singing carols of joy,' he reminded himself sternly.
"I had not thought she would have that much audacity myself, either," he agreed mildly. "Well I suppose the wedding is called off."
"Until we find her." Hotohori turned to the source of the voice. Before him stood the emperor of Hokkaido, no longer looking fat and jolly. "A third time being thwarted I will not bear. If she tries to mutiny again, I will kill her myself."
At the determined look in his eyes, he shuddered. Silently, he sent his best wishes after the princess, this time for her own sake.
************************
"Very well, I'm a reasonable man," the ringleader said to the two in not very reasonable tone. "I'll give you thirty for the girl."
"Thirty?" Miaka's protector was clearly outraged. "She's worth forty!"
"Forty?" Now it was her turn to be outraged. "I'm worth at least fifty! And are we talking gold? I am the priestess of Suzaku, after all."
"Heh. Are you really?" Tamahome ground the heel of his palm into his forehead. "You'll fetch a good price in Kutou."
Belatedly, she realized her mistake. "You know where I'd fetch an even better price? To the emperor here. In Konan."
The man gave her a considering look. "No, it'd have to be the emperor of Kutou. Slave trading's illegal here, after all."
"C'mon, I'd make sure he let you go," Miaka wheedled.
"No. And I still say thirty."
"No way! 45!"
"I am not for sale!!" Miaka bellowed, her head rotating three sixty and fire shooting from her eyes. Ramming her captor into a wall, she flipped the stunned body and sent it flying. Simultaneously, Tamahome struck.
"Miaka, get down," he shouted as he threw a man into a wall.
"No way! Do you know what's in the middle of that street?"
"You?"
"No! A big pile of horse - eeeauhh!!!!! Tama!"
"What?! There was a knife flying at your head."
"Excuses, excuses. Hey, watch it buddy!" A man pulled her up and pressed her against the wall. Miaka's voice took on the quality of a sport's broadcaster.
"The knee goes up and the hand goes down. Tamahome is on the attack. That's one down. Wait, wait - there's one behind Tamahome! Will this be the end of our hero? Well no, the priestess is still safe. Her protector ducks, pivots and the man is down! Well folks, we've had our moment of truth. Men do not kick each other in the nuts. How disappointing."
"Do you ever shut up?"
Miaka continued without a response. "Now that our attackers are down, sports fans, I will show that I am decidedly unsportsmanlike. Yes, I will kick a down opponent."
"Miaka, what are you doing?" Tamahome asked in horror.
"I'm making sure they don't perpetuate their evil line."
"What - behind you!!!" Time seemed to slow for Tamahome as Miaka turned to see a man behind her with his sword upraised. Fear held her paralyzed as he pulled the weapon back and pointed it at her chest.
"Time to die," he said with a cruel smile.
"Miaka, no!!!!" Tamahome roared. She closed her eyes, waiting to feel the cold metal penetrate her flesh. The moment before impact, a body knocked her out of the way.
She opened her eyes to see Tamahome fall to his knees, clutching his chest where blood was seeping out from between his fingers. Slowly, he collapsed onto the street, blood pooling about his still body. A clap of thunder sounded, bringing rain pouring from the heavens.
Slowly, the men got to their feet.
"Your turn."
