Disclaimer: I forgot to mention this, but I don't own Fushigi Yuugi. If I
did, you would all be paying to read this!
~ Big Notice: Tasuki shows up at the end of this chapter so there is some cursing. ~
Tamahome lounged on the imperial throne, one booted foot hanging over the armrest. He was really, really bored. Hotohori's advisors wanted nothing to do with him. They had been walking around in a sort of dazed glee after the royal seishi declared his intention of going on a hiatus. To the council, Tamahome was merely a figurehead; someone to play at being emperor while the true one was gone. All of their scheming and dastardly plots could now be realized because Hotohori had left a patsy in his place.
While Tamahome resented being only a pawn, there wasn't much he could do about it. He wasn't strong enough to beat up all of the advisors before the royal guards overwhelmed him. He was still injured. And frankly, he wasn't sure he had enough cunning in him to go up against the most evil men in Konan. Sure, he knew how to set up elaborate scams and how to rob people blind without their realizing but that experience couldn't possibly translate itself to politics. Could it?
The emperor pro tempore sat up straight in his seat. He had just the right skills to pull off a political coup if he played dirty. And playing dirty was what being a thief was all about. What he had to do was pick a topic that he could make a stand on and go from there. Let's see, there was taxes but that was too passé. He could try converting all the heathens to the proper faith but that was on a shaky moral ground. Hmm…
Tamahome smiled evilly as he thought of the perfect issue. It was too good! He would be able to cement his power as emperor and win over half the population of Konan in the process! Chuckling to himself, he headed back to his office. If he played his cards right, he would be the most famous thief in history.
"Time to steal the country," he crowed to himself silently. The advisors wouldn't know what hit them…
"I have assembled you all here today because of an important issue that I think this country needs to address," Tamahome stated seriously, several days later. He had taken precautions to appear as noble as possible. The crown had made a miraculous re-emergence from the bottom of Miaka's bed. He wore the robes of state and was addressing the advisors from the throne. They knelt at his feet, in a show of counterfeit obeisance. If Tamahome didn't play this quite right, his chances at remaining emperor upon Hotohori's return were slim.
"And what matter is that, O wise and gracious Suzaku seishi?" One sniveling advisor asked. His comrades snickered into the breadth of their respective sleeves. Okay, this was not going well. Tamahome didn't even have the basic R-E-S-P-E-C-T from them.
Plunging ahead, Tamahome fitted them with his best bitch stare. "I have noticed that in this great country we still abide by foolish and detrimental traditions that relegate certain members of our population to the undue positions of second-class citizens." The advisors looked shell shocked at the words emanating from what they had previously considering an uneducated boob.
Internally, Tamahome patted himself on the back. Oh the cleverness of his scheme!
"Yes, I am talking about women. Women, my good men, are the backbone of this nation. How many of you love your mothers?" They fidgeted and nodded their assent that yes; they all loved their mothers. A few members of the group before him began to look ill as they realized where he was going.
"Wouldn't you want your mother, the woman who bore the pain and anguish of raising you, to have the same rights as your father? What I am proposing gentlemen," Tamahome leaned forward in his seat, ignoring the protests of his sutured body, "is the immediate, comprehensive suffrage of the women of Konan." He reclined back into the throne and waited.
The advisors exploded.
"Sire, that is not feasible!"
"Giving women such power? We'd be overrun in a week!"
"Who will do the cooking and cleaning?"
"What next? Democracy? Have you lost your mind?!"
Tamahome stopped their protests with a wave of his hand. "I am emperor here!" he bellowed. "My word is law!"
"You are only emperor until his Majesty returns from his expedition." One advisor told him sternly.
"His Majesty," Tamahome told them with scorn, "has effectively abdicated the throne in order to pursue his dream of forming a boy band with four other youths from New Jersey. What he says is moot. I am your emperor now." They looked momentarily nonplussed by Tamahome's explanation.
"I thought he was going to look for the Priestess of Suzaku," one advisor said in confusion.
"Didn't you hear me?" Tamahome inquired icily. "Hotohori is a close friend of mine so I think that I would know best. He has left to become a man- whore. He told me personally that he thought it was a damned crime to let such beauty as his go to waste." Now, the advisors were totally perplexed.
"But didn't you just say he was joining a boy band?"
"You are skirting the issue sir!" Tamahome roared. They jumped. "Women must have equal rights, today! Right now! In fact, yesterday would have been better."
Apparently his intimidation factor had lessened some in his time at the palace. The advisors managed to pull themselves together. "Our answer is an unequivocal no," they told him resolutely. "You can't possibly foster this kind of change without the support of the council," they informed him with a smirk. No upstart commoner, despite his divine purpose, would ever get the better of them.
Damn. Well, on to Plan B.
Tamahome sighed. "If you will not consent then I am afraid I have no other recourse. From this moment on, I shall be on a hunger strike. Only water shall sustain me until you decide to recant your decision and free Konan's women from inequality."
The advisors were absolutely and utterly floored. This wasn't going their way at all. Maybe they could bluff their way out of it. Surely he didn't have the intestinal fortitude to starve himself to death. Not that they could let it come to that. Tamahome was a Suzaku seishi and needed in order to summon the beast god and save Konan.
"You wouldn't," they said uncertainly.
"I would," he replied a trifle smugly. Well, well. It seemed he had a chance after all.
"Go back to whatever little jobs you were doing and don't return until you have changed your mind." Tamahome instructed them austerely. They'd see; Suzaku seishi Tamahome was not a person to be fooled with. Let them tempt as they may. He would not partake of any sustenance until Konan was ruled entirely by him.
***
In another part of Konan, the Priestess of Suzaku and the empress were making due. Miaka had woken up a few hours after Nuriko rescued her from the bandits of Mt. Reikaku. They had wandered the countryside, stealing food from fields and sleeping in barns. They spent a better part of a week cold, dirty, and irritable. But thankfully luck was fickle and a few days in the small city of Chouko had made them minor celebrities.
"One, two, three, you're out!" Miaka declared gleefully, pounding a despondent man on the back as he left the table. Nuriko sat demurely, her sleeve rolled up past her elbow. That was the fifth man she had defeated this morning and their pile of change was growing. Arm wrestling for money was very profitable. She was gaining a reputation as the Burly Beauty. While that was not exactly the name she would have chosen for herself, Nuriko was content that it was instrumental in getting her and Miaka enough cash to live on.
Miaka was in her element. This was just like working with Tamahome! What a perfect scam! No ordinary man could possibly beat Nuriko's God-given strength. Living in this world, being Priestess of Suzaku was definitely her destiny. She was utilizing talents she never knew she possessed. Like being an entertainer.
"Come one, come all! Test your strength against the Burly Beauty! No man has been able to beat her! You sir, this could be your lucky day! Care to test your strength against this lovely lady?" Miaka singled out a passing man who looked strong enough to break the dainty Nuriko in two.
The man hesitated then sat down.
"Just place your money on the table, friend. If you beat her, I'll double it." Miaka told him.
The match went mostly as expected. If Nuriko had to use a little more effort to be the man, well, it was because he was a giant. He went away defeated but not bitter and at the end of the day, Miaka and Nuriko had enough money to buy a room for the night.
"Aren't you worried that this is a little like cheating?" Nuriko asked Miaka dubiously as the priestess counted their stash. Miaka didn't even look up.
"Nope. We have to survive and utilizing your talents is the best way. Besides, if people knew about your strength, they wouldn't try their luck. It's sound business."
"Perhaps…" Nuriko said doubtfully.
The night passed uneventful.
***
That night a storm passed over Konan. The wind howled, the rained cried fierce, bitter tears over the land, and the heavens protested their lot with violent bouts of thunder and lightning. In the capital, the emperor pro tempore fancied his stomach and the thunder were conversing. To the west, the priestess and empress slept, huddled in a rented room. To the east, a grumpy monk chided his lecherous charges as a beautiful man bore up under the pressure of constant sexual harassment. Yes, even the warring bandit clans in the north were still, declaring an unspoken truce for the night. But only because their respective leaders were out on special reconnaissance missions. And coincidently, they were about to meet for the first time in seven years.
Tasuki swore to himself. This fucking rain was finding every tear and unsealed crevice in his oiled cloak. He was uncomfortably damp and in was all Chichiri's damn fault.
The bandit king's horse picked up a little more speed as it sensed its rider's tension. Yes, this really was Chichiri's fault. If the shithole monk had come back from his fucking mission in a timely fashion, Tasuki wouldn't have had to come out in this fucking storm to kidnap some snot- nosed, shit-faced intellectual type that could help him get one up on Nakago.
Okay, okay. Maybe it wasn't just any snot-nosed, shit-faced intellectual he was picking up. Maybe it was a snot-nosed, shit-faced Suzaku seishi. Tasuki permitted himself a toothy grin. He seemed to be better at collecting seishi than the Priestess of Suzaku was. As far as he had heard, she had collected three: Tamahome, Hotohori, and Nuriko. Tasuki had four: Chichiri, Suboshi, Amiboshi, and himself. Soon Chiriko would join his ranks.
What would cement a thirteen-year-old genius's loyalty? Books? Dirty magazines? Tasuki didn't much care. Whatever Chiriko wanted, he would get. The kid would be a stepping-stone on his way to the throne.
He almost missed the house as the rain became torrential and his clothing soaked. But here it was, the home his spies had reported as belonging to Suzaku Seishi Chiriko. Tasuki tried to make himself more presentable and less intimidating. Maybe simple kindness would be Chiriko's key, like it was for Chichiri. He raised a fist to knock. The door swung upon and in the light from the storm, Tasuki saw an unwelcome face.
Nakago.
~ Big Notice: Tasuki shows up at the end of this chapter so there is some cursing. ~
Tamahome lounged on the imperial throne, one booted foot hanging over the armrest. He was really, really bored. Hotohori's advisors wanted nothing to do with him. They had been walking around in a sort of dazed glee after the royal seishi declared his intention of going on a hiatus. To the council, Tamahome was merely a figurehead; someone to play at being emperor while the true one was gone. All of their scheming and dastardly plots could now be realized because Hotohori had left a patsy in his place.
While Tamahome resented being only a pawn, there wasn't much he could do about it. He wasn't strong enough to beat up all of the advisors before the royal guards overwhelmed him. He was still injured. And frankly, he wasn't sure he had enough cunning in him to go up against the most evil men in Konan. Sure, he knew how to set up elaborate scams and how to rob people blind without their realizing but that experience couldn't possibly translate itself to politics. Could it?
The emperor pro tempore sat up straight in his seat. He had just the right skills to pull off a political coup if he played dirty. And playing dirty was what being a thief was all about. What he had to do was pick a topic that he could make a stand on and go from there. Let's see, there was taxes but that was too passé. He could try converting all the heathens to the proper faith but that was on a shaky moral ground. Hmm…
Tamahome smiled evilly as he thought of the perfect issue. It was too good! He would be able to cement his power as emperor and win over half the population of Konan in the process! Chuckling to himself, he headed back to his office. If he played his cards right, he would be the most famous thief in history.
"Time to steal the country," he crowed to himself silently. The advisors wouldn't know what hit them…
"I have assembled you all here today because of an important issue that I think this country needs to address," Tamahome stated seriously, several days later. He had taken precautions to appear as noble as possible. The crown had made a miraculous re-emergence from the bottom of Miaka's bed. He wore the robes of state and was addressing the advisors from the throne. They knelt at his feet, in a show of counterfeit obeisance. If Tamahome didn't play this quite right, his chances at remaining emperor upon Hotohori's return were slim.
"And what matter is that, O wise and gracious Suzaku seishi?" One sniveling advisor asked. His comrades snickered into the breadth of their respective sleeves. Okay, this was not going well. Tamahome didn't even have the basic R-E-S-P-E-C-T from them.
Plunging ahead, Tamahome fitted them with his best bitch stare. "I have noticed that in this great country we still abide by foolish and detrimental traditions that relegate certain members of our population to the undue positions of second-class citizens." The advisors looked shell shocked at the words emanating from what they had previously considering an uneducated boob.
Internally, Tamahome patted himself on the back. Oh the cleverness of his scheme!
"Yes, I am talking about women. Women, my good men, are the backbone of this nation. How many of you love your mothers?" They fidgeted and nodded their assent that yes; they all loved their mothers. A few members of the group before him began to look ill as they realized where he was going.
"Wouldn't you want your mother, the woman who bore the pain and anguish of raising you, to have the same rights as your father? What I am proposing gentlemen," Tamahome leaned forward in his seat, ignoring the protests of his sutured body, "is the immediate, comprehensive suffrage of the women of Konan." He reclined back into the throne and waited.
The advisors exploded.
"Sire, that is not feasible!"
"Giving women such power? We'd be overrun in a week!"
"Who will do the cooking and cleaning?"
"What next? Democracy? Have you lost your mind?!"
Tamahome stopped their protests with a wave of his hand. "I am emperor here!" he bellowed. "My word is law!"
"You are only emperor until his Majesty returns from his expedition." One advisor told him sternly.
"His Majesty," Tamahome told them with scorn, "has effectively abdicated the throne in order to pursue his dream of forming a boy band with four other youths from New Jersey. What he says is moot. I am your emperor now." They looked momentarily nonplussed by Tamahome's explanation.
"I thought he was going to look for the Priestess of Suzaku," one advisor said in confusion.
"Didn't you hear me?" Tamahome inquired icily. "Hotohori is a close friend of mine so I think that I would know best. He has left to become a man- whore. He told me personally that he thought it was a damned crime to let such beauty as his go to waste." Now, the advisors were totally perplexed.
"But didn't you just say he was joining a boy band?"
"You are skirting the issue sir!" Tamahome roared. They jumped. "Women must have equal rights, today! Right now! In fact, yesterday would have been better."
Apparently his intimidation factor had lessened some in his time at the palace. The advisors managed to pull themselves together. "Our answer is an unequivocal no," they told him resolutely. "You can't possibly foster this kind of change without the support of the council," they informed him with a smirk. No upstart commoner, despite his divine purpose, would ever get the better of them.
Damn. Well, on to Plan B.
Tamahome sighed. "If you will not consent then I am afraid I have no other recourse. From this moment on, I shall be on a hunger strike. Only water shall sustain me until you decide to recant your decision and free Konan's women from inequality."
The advisors were absolutely and utterly floored. This wasn't going their way at all. Maybe they could bluff their way out of it. Surely he didn't have the intestinal fortitude to starve himself to death. Not that they could let it come to that. Tamahome was a Suzaku seishi and needed in order to summon the beast god and save Konan.
"You wouldn't," they said uncertainly.
"I would," he replied a trifle smugly. Well, well. It seemed he had a chance after all.
"Go back to whatever little jobs you were doing and don't return until you have changed your mind." Tamahome instructed them austerely. They'd see; Suzaku seishi Tamahome was not a person to be fooled with. Let them tempt as they may. He would not partake of any sustenance until Konan was ruled entirely by him.
***
In another part of Konan, the Priestess of Suzaku and the empress were making due. Miaka had woken up a few hours after Nuriko rescued her from the bandits of Mt. Reikaku. They had wandered the countryside, stealing food from fields and sleeping in barns. They spent a better part of a week cold, dirty, and irritable. But thankfully luck was fickle and a few days in the small city of Chouko had made them minor celebrities.
"One, two, three, you're out!" Miaka declared gleefully, pounding a despondent man on the back as he left the table. Nuriko sat demurely, her sleeve rolled up past her elbow. That was the fifth man she had defeated this morning and their pile of change was growing. Arm wrestling for money was very profitable. She was gaining a reputation as the Burly Beauty. While that was not exactly the name she would have chosen for herself, Nuriko was content that it was instrumental in getting her and Miaka enough cash to live on.
Miaka was in her element. This was just like working with Tamahome! What a perfect scam! No ordinary man could possibly beat Nuriko's God-given strength. Living in this world, being Priestess of Suzaku was definitely her destiny. She was utilizing talents she never knew she possessed. Like being an entertainer.
"Come one, come all! Test your strength against the Burly Beauty! No man has been able to beat her! You sir, this could be your lucky day! Care to test your strength against this lovely lady?" Miaka singled out a passing man who looked strong enough to break the dainty Nuriko in two.
The man hesitated then sat down.
"Just place your money on the table, friend. If you beat her, I'll double it." Miaka told him.
The match went mostly as expected. If Nuriko had to use a little more effort to be the man, well, it was because he was a giant. He went away defeated but not bitter and at the end of the day, Miaka and Nuriko had enough money to buy a room for the night.
"Aren't you worried that this is a little like cheating?" Nuriko asked Miaka dubiously as the priestess counted their stash. Miaka didn't even look up.
"Nope. We have to survive and utilizing your talents is the best way. Besides, if people knew about your strength, they wouldn't try their luck. It's sound business."
"Perhaps…" Nuriko said doubtfully.
The night passed uneventful.
***
That night a storm passed over Konan. The wind howled, the rained cried fierce, bitter tears over the land, and the heavens protested their lot with violent bouts of thunder and lightning. In the capital, the emperor pro tempore fancied his stomach and the thunder were conversing. To the west, the priestess and empress slept, huddled in a rented room. To the east, a grumpy monk chided his lecherous charges as a beautiful man bore up under the pressure of constant sexual harassment. Yes, even the warring bandit clans in the north were still, declaring an unspoken truce for the night. But only because their respective leaders were out on special reconnaissance missions. And coincidently, they were about to meet for the first time in seven years.
Tasuki swore to himself. This fucking rain was finding every tear and unsealed crevice in his oiled cloak. He was uncomfortably damp and in was all Chichiri's damn fault.
The bandit king's horse picked up a little more speed as it sensed its rider's tension. Yes, this really was Chichiri's fault. If the shithole monk had come back from his fucking mission in a timely fashion, Tasuki wouldn't have had to come out in this fucking storm to kidnap some snot- nosed, shit-faced intellectual type that could help him get one up on Nakago.
Okay, okay. Maybe it wasn't just any snot-nosed, shit-faced intellectual he was picking up. Maybe it was a snot-nosed, shit-faced Suzaku seishi. Tasuki permitted himself a toothy grin. He seemed to be better at collecting seishi than the Priestess of Suzaku was. As far as he had heard, she had collected three: Tamahome, Hotohori, and Nuriko. Tasuki had four: Chichiri, Suboshi, Amiboshi, and himself. Soon Chiriko would join his ranks.
What would cement a thirteen-year-old genius's loyalty? Books? Dirty magazines? Tasuki didn't much care. Whatever Chiriko wanted, he would get. The kid would be a stepping-stone on his way to the throne.
He almost missed the house as the rain became torrential and his clothing soaked. But here it was, the home his spies had reported as belonging to Suzaku Seishi Chiriko. Tasuki tried to make himself more presentable and less intimidating. Maybe simple kindness would be Chiriko's key, like it was for Chichiri. He raised a fist to knock. The door swung upon and in the light from the storm, Tasuki saw an unwelcome face.
Nakago.
