Chapter Three – Old Friend

"She always faints when she sees me," he explained, standing above the unconscious girl with a slight smirk on his handsome features. Nifei was glancing from her friend to the newcomer.

"Don't... flatter yourself..." the girl murmered, pushing herself up weaking and grabbing blindly for her drink. "I'm... dehydrated."

"I seem to recall a similar occasion," he said with a small chuckle.

"What are you doing here, Nakago?" she asked. "I haven't seen you since..." her eyes darkened.

He ignored her moment of depression. "I am accompanying a potential client."

"You're the VIP?!" she was suddenly lively and alert. "It really was you I kept seeing everywhere? I thought I was going crazy. I didn't know you were such an important person," she said in wonder.

"You said it yourself that I seemed to be affluent."

"Miaka-san, how do you two know eachother?"

"It's a long story," she responded. "About four hundred pages..."

A realization suddenly hit the former miko. "PERVERT!" she shrieked and covered herself. "I'm in my bathing suit, don't look at my body, you evil... pervert!"

"In case you didn't notice, Suzaku no Miko, I am also in my bathing suit."

"I did notice..." she blushed lightly.

"It's not like I haven't seen it all before, my little Miko," he leaned forward and gave her a positively seductive smirk, grasping her wrist and pulling her hands away from her body. "Although you look a bit different. You've put on a bit of weight."

"Most people say I've lost weight..." she tipped her head, a little confused.

The former Seiryu Seishi leaned in even more closely, his mouth so close that his breath tickled the tiny hairs on her neck. "I don't mean in your lovehandles," his hand brushed her breast so lightly that she wasn't sure it had happened.

Of course, knowing that this was Nakago, she knew it had, and she responded approprietly. She turned so red she nearly exploded. Abruptly, however, he withdrew from the almost intimate contact, and Miaka quickly realized why. The beautiful woman with him had returned, wearing only her swimsuit as well.

Muji had been right - she was beautiful. Her hair was past her waist, brilliant crimson and shining like a diamond. The miko had to admit that even Nifei, lovely as she was, would have trouble competing with such a momentous beauty. Miaka considered herself as good as eliminated from that competition.

"Friends of yours, Ayuru?" the woman asked.

"Didn't you call him 'Nakago'?" Nifei asked, blinking.

"It's just a nickname," Miaka said a little too quickly. "We're friends, if you can even call us that."

"Don't be so shy, Miaka-chan," he said. Miaka was shocked to hear such a friendly (although maybe insulting) suffix attached to her name. "I'd say we're closer to lovers."

"WHAT?!" she shrieked.

"Oh?" the elegant woman at his side asked.

"We did spend the night together," he could feel the Miko's outrage without even looking. It amused him greatly to see her wound so tightly.

"That is not..."

"A night she will never forget," he finished. Miaka was appalled, but also shocked that he would act so... casual about her. She wondered why he was leading them to believe that they were more than they really were. It didn't seem like him. "Well, we'd best be leaving."

The two turned before she could protest. Miaka stood, jaw opening and closing like a fish, unable to form words. Nifei stared up at her.

"Miaka-san... I... well, I thought you and Taka had been together since you were fifteen. He looks a bit old to have been with you when you were younger than that. Besides, I thought you were... you know, a virgin," she finished softly, looking sort of shocked and appalled herself.

"We are not lovers, we just know eachother from... a trip we were both on two years ago. He's exaggerating. I AM a virgin. I'd never have betrayed Taka like that," she spat angrily. Nakago had left at the exact right moment to leave lots of unanswered questions for her to be forced to explain. "And soon I'll be his murderer, because I'm going to kill him for saying those things!"

"So you've never been involved? You aren't interested?"

"Not at all. He was my enemy... we were only allies because we had to be... we're not even friends," she didn't sound very convinced herself, but Nifei seemed to believe it, because she looked... relieved? Something like that.

"Do you still want to get dinner?" she changed the subject. "Or would you rather go back to our room?"

"I wouldn't give him the satisfaction," she spat, standing up and pulling her sundress back on. "We'll eat, we'll swim, and we'll have a damn good time doing it."

"All right," the girl pulled her own sundress on and they headed toward the dining hall.

The two ate, and swam, and then Miaka returned to the bar to have a drink. She didn't usually drink, but she sort of needed it. Her thoughts were swimming after running into her arch-enemy turned friend and hearing herself described as a lover. She was surprised to see Nakago there as well, dressed to kill, but without the arm candy he'd sported before. He was looking regal and dignified as ever, sipping on a martini.

Miaka sat down at his side. "Gingerale," she decided that it was better not to drink with him around. Blue eyes slipped to his left.

"Miko," he greeted quietly.

"Nakago," she replied, taking her beverage and sipping lightly. He was going to be quiet, well, two could play at that game. They sat in silence for quite a while.

Miaka broke first. "Your girlfriend is pretty," she said. "Where is she?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he replied. "She's with a male friend."

"You're not a couple?" she asked. "You two look good together."

"I look good with anybody," he said vainly with a small smirk. "But no, we are not a couple. She is a business prospect. Being the most accomplished, in other words, the best looking, partner in the firm, I was asked to accompany her. To show her a good time."

"Isn't that like prostitution or something?" she asked, blinking slightly and turning toward him. He remained facing the bar.

"I suppose it is, in a way. Fortunately, she has no interest in me, nor I in her. We make a show of being together during the day, and she goes and joins other men in their rooms at night."

"Where do you go at night?" she looked down at her drink.

"My bed."

Miaka recalled all too vividly their conversation in Kutou where he had revealed his true past with the emperor. She knew the prostitution reference had bothered him, but it was sometimes necessary to push his buttons to get an honest response from him.

"Why did you say we were lovers? You know we've never slept together..."

"We have," he corrected. "Several times we shared a bed in an inn or shared warmth on the ground at night."

"That's hardly sleeping together."

"I said we spent the night together, I did not say slept together, though that is technically true as well. What we did not do is have sex."

"Well why did you lead them to believe we had?"

His eyes slipped to the small form again, an inner battle waging. Was he to reveal his motive? He knew it was almost always best to keep things to himself, but this was Miaka... it was getting increasingly harder to refuse her, especially when he looked in her eyes and saw the emptiness that had been left when Taka died.

"You were getting depressed about Tamahome. The best way to keep you from getting depressed is to make you angry."

"You were... trying to make me feel better?" she asked, hazel eyes confused.

"In a way, I suppose," he finally turned toward her. She felt suddenly small and petty for being so angry. He was trying to make her feel better. She realized that he'd done that during their journey as well. Whenever she began to get depressed or dejected, he would anger her and then she would forget whatever was causing her pain.

"You could have just made a joke, you know," she said pointedly.

"Anger is much more effective. Besides, it's more fun for me."

"Jerk," she didn't mean it. "I haven't seen you in a while..."

"You didn't call. I left my number."

"I know..." she honestly felt bad for that. "I know we sort of had a strange alliance after the last time in the book, but college exams were close, and then I was a freshmen and at my wits end, then... then Taka. I just didn't need anymore complication after that. You did come... to the funeral, though. How did you hear?"

"Yui-sa..." he caught himself. "Yui told Tomo, who promptly called me."

He didn't offer an explaination for why he attended, and she didn't ask for one.

"I should be going to bed... Nifei is probably still waiting up for me. She didn't go to bed until I came in last night either."

"She seems clingy."

"She's a bit, but she's younger than me. She's actually only eighteen. Boy, that makes me feel old. I'm a sophomore this fall and I'm twenty already."

He smiled a little wryly. "We won't begin talking about being old."

"That's right, you're ten years older than me, aren't you? You're THIRTY?! You ARE old!"

He didn't fight the accusation, though he did say that he was still twenty nine for about four more months. "I'm still alive," he commented somewhat dryly. "And you'll be thirty too, someday."

"And then you'll be forty," she danced around his stool. "Wow, you're almost dead, aren't you?"

He stood up. "I think I shall take my leave as well."

"You know, our rooms are right next to eachother," she told him, picking up her purse from the bar and following him. "So we're going the same way."

"That's convenient, I suppose."

"Convenient for what?" she asked suspiciously.

"For peeping, of course," he said blandly. She glared furiously, and then sighed in defeat. Yes, he won, he could be more more irritating than her. They walked on in silence until they reached Miaka's room.

"Here's me," she told him. He stopped and took a step back, looking down at her tiny form, which looked somewhat diminished from when he'd seen her last. She really had lost weight. "I'll see you around, then."

"Yes."

"Maybe... we could have breakfast together? Would your, uh... business friend mind?"

"She'll still be with her own friend until later."

Miaka knew that was his way of saying he accepted her offer. "Meet me here in the morning, then. Not too early."

He nodded and turned to leave.

"Nakago," she said. His head turned slightly, his eyes catching hers. "Thank you," and she hugged him from behind.

"For?" he asked.

"Being here. I thought I was alone, but now I know that I do have friends here." The young woman retreated into her room before he could respond, his body tingling where she had touched him. The former Seishi returned to his own suite, pondering the miko. She seemed softer, no; more breakable than ever. He wondered if he should be careful with her, or if he should let her break and then help pick up the pieces.

He knew she would break eventually. It was just a matter of time. He decided that he should be there for her to pick up the pieces and resolved that despite it being an annoyance, he would keep an eye on her. Seiryu knew she needed somebody to do so. Resigned to his fate of Miko-sitting duty, the former Seishi returned to his room and attempted to sleep.

Miaka, on the other hand, was subjected to a long string of questions concerning Nakago, their real relationship, and a slew of other slightly more personal questions that she didn't really care to answer. The sudden force with which Nifei had bombarded her with questions bothered her. It was almost as if she was jealous, though of her or Nakago, she wasn't sure. It was hours before she managed to get rid of Nifei and go to bed.

"Good morning, Nakago," the young woman stood outside his door alone. She was surprised to see him looking... not his best. "You look horrible," she said bluntly.

He gave her a curt glare and opened the door for her to enter. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his hair in a bizzare half up, half down arrangement. She blushed as she entered, noticing that he was wearing only a pair of red, silk boxers.

"It's six a.m. What are you doing up so early?" he asked, sounding more cranky than usual. Apparently, he had not finished sleeping when she knocked on the door. He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the door open. She heard him pee and blushed even more brightly. Had he no shame? Honestly!

"You could at least close the door as you urinate."

"In Kutou, one evacuates one's bladder behind a tree. I think having any sort of room between us is a vast improvement."

"In other words, deal with it. Right?"

"Exactly," she heard him flush the toilet and wash his hands, splashing his face a little to wake up. When he returned, he look much more himself. His hair had been finger-combed down into a somewhat more tame arrangement, though he still looked tired.

"Late night?" she asked, stepping aside as he moved into the main room and to his own bedroom, pulling out some clothes from the closet, tossing them on the bed.

"I had a bit of trouble sleeping," he admitted. Actually, he was a fairly frequent insomniac. He tended to keep such strange hours, getting up at all hours of the day and night for various reasons, that when presented with a situation in which going to bed and getting up at the same time each day was little less than required, he had serious problems.

Nakago brushed past the small woman and returned to the bathroom. "I'm showering."

"Do you mind if I watch some television?" she asked as he passed. He shrugged and the door closed. She thought he might hold the record for the fastest shower in Japan. She could have sworn it took him two minutes total to emerge from the bathroom, fully awake, and wearing only a towel.

As he made his way from the bathroom to his bedroom, Miaka's face turned progressively more red by the second. His towel, wrapped low on his waist, was slipping, revealing the barest hint of his firm buttocks. She forced herself not to look as he moved past her.

She glowered when she noticed that he was laughing. He was obviously taking great pleasure in her discomfort. "I'm going downstairs," she huffed.

"That's too bad," he tossed the towel into the hallway. She nearly exploded at the thought of him standing there sans towel. "I'll see you there, then."

The young woman crossed her arms and exited, but unfortunately for her, she saw just the person she was trying to avoid. It seemed for the moment that said person hadn't noticed her, and so she dashed back into the room faster than she'd ever moved.

At that exact moment, Nakago, still in the nude, walked out into the hallway of his suite. Miaka could have sworn that she felt her nose begin to bleed. The former Seishi's eyes widened slightly in surprise before a tiny smirk settled on his lips.

"Y-You're... WHY ARE YOU WALKING AROUND NAKED?!" she whirred around, face as red as the brilliant tapestries hanging in Konan's palace had been. She stiffened when she felt him directly behind her. She peeked upward, and when she saw his devilish grin, she harumphed and took a step toward the door. Nifei was bound to be gone by now... the door was open just a crack, so she wouldn't have to fumble with locks or anything. She could escape her embarrassment.

"It is my suite, afterall," he said smoothly. "I thought you left?"

"I... I did, but..." her explaination was cut off as the door slid open, Nifei standing there before her. Her eyes widened and she whirred around.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice holding an edge of something strange. "I didn't... I mean, I thought I saw you, Miaka-san, and then the door was open a crack, and..." she apologized profusely. Suddenly, then. "Miaka-san, why are you here? And why are you naked, Gi-san?" her voice held accusing.

"I came to get him for breakfast," Miaka didn't give him the chance to step in and say they'd made passionate love or something. "And was going to meet him downstairs, but realized I'd forgotten... my handbag!" she lifted it suddenly, even though she'd been carrying it the whole time. "So I came back... then he was standing there..." her face grew red.

Nakago turned, giving Nifei a good view of his perfect, tight butt, causing her to sniff in a dignified manner and look away. "Miaka, I don't like how this relationship is becoming so casual. I don't want to see you get hurt," her voice lowered. "I know men like him... they're all out for one thing."

"Don't be silly, I've known Nakago for ages. He used to be like that, but he's different now. Still, I would appreciate it if he didn't walk around without clothes on!" she shouted toward his bedroom.

"It's my suite," he returned with a chuckle. "If you can't stand the heat," he emerged, now fully dressed. "Stay out of the kitchen."

She flushed again at the mental image that popped into her head of him wearing nothing but an apron, standing, sweaty, over a hot stove. She squeaked and thought of holy things like churches and nuns. "Well, then, we may as well go to breakfast now that we're all here," the young woman said with a sigh. Nifei's cold, annoyed expression dispersed and she was smiling again, holding Miaka's hand and dragging her away down the hall.

Nakago watched with interest as they walked. Something seemed... odd. He ignored it for the moment, but kept the strange feeling of foreboding in the back of his mind.

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Author's Notes: Well, I finally finished my first novel, so now I'm back to this story for a while. I promise updates will come more frequently. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think!