1Something worth leaving behind
Chapter one: Hotohori
A/N: Welcome, welcome! This is yet another resurrection fic- but done WAAAAY BETTER! Lots of angst, sap, bashing, drama, and ACTION! Yeah! kay...pairings... Nuriko/Nakago, Nuriko/Hotohori and Miaka/Tamahome(Taka) WHEW!
Disclaimer: No, I do not own FY. Nor do I own any songs in this chapter. They go to Leann Womack and Trapt.
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"Ah, so, am I correct in assuming that there might be a special someone waiting at the concert hall tonight?"
Saihitei frowned, sipping on his tea as he leisurely made his way to the living room, a large robe covering his frame from the biting winter cold. He knew he was the only one awake, so how could the television be on? Ah, Genrou must have left it on. He was always doing that.
"Maybe."
He blinked, those bright amber eyes troubled. Why did that voice sound so familiar? He felt like he should have known that voice, known it almost as well as he did his own. So why? Why couldn't he place it?
"All right, missy, keep your secrets!" The hostess of a popular talk show, laughed. "In the mean time, may I present Cho Kourin, who has just returned from America, and her latest single, 'Something Worth Leaving Behind.'"
Cho Kourin! Saihitei rushed to the doorway in time to catch the beginning notes of the song. His eyes widened as the singer brought the microphone to her lips, her voice beautiful and haunting. The teacup fell from the youth's lack hand, slamming onto the tile floor and shattering into hundreds of glittering pieces in a crash that was heard throughout the house.
"Sai!" Suddenly Miaka was there, catching his sagging body in her arms, cradling him. "Sai! What is it? What's wrong? MITSUKAKE!"
Everyone was there, he could hear them calling his name, trying to find out what had caused that half-shocked, half-horrified look on his face. Couldn't they hear it? That voice? The t.v was still on, she was still singing. Why didn't they hear it! The voice could only belong to one person.
"I know I'll never lose my life to save another soul..."
Dead. Gone. Ashitare.
"N-Nuriko..."
"What?" Taka asked, sharing a confused look with his wife. He knelt in front of Saihitei, "Hotohori? Sire? What was-" He was cut off by the loud clapping as the song finished, and the hostess came back on, standing next to a lovely young woman in heavy winter clothing. "That was wonderful, Kourin!"
"Why thank you." Kourin laughed, her light brown eyes sparkling happily as she brushed a stray strand of her violet hair away from her face. "The CD should hit stores tomorrow, but I plan to play it all tonight at the concert."
That was all they heard because at that moment, Genrou yelled everyone's thoughts in an exploding, "Holy crap!"
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Kourin waited until the crowd outside had all but diminished, and then, wearing a pair of jeans and a heavy leather jacket whose high collar hid the braid that twisted down her back, made her way to her car. Quickly sliding inside the Toyota, she turned on the heat and drove home, happy to see the familiar sites of downtown Tokyo, as compared to those of downtown New York city. Shivering from the cold, she let herself in, stripping off her jacket and hanging it over the nearest chair.
A pair of arms suddenly came around her shoulders, jerking her back until she came to rest fully against a taller body. "I missed you, Ryuuen." A low voice whispered in her ear.
"AYURU!" Kourin, whose real name was Ryuuen, spun, throwing his arms about the other and holding him close. "Oh, Ayuru! I missed you too!"
Bright sapphire eyes twinkled in amusement, "I take it America didn't sit well with you?"
"Suzaku no! Everyone was so nosy- they almost discovered I wasn't a girl!" Ryuuen huffed, his lower lip puffing out as it always did when he was particularly angry. "I almost told Hakari to forget it and I would just quit."
Ayuru's eyes widened, "You didn't! Ryuuen, you didn't! You love to sing!"
"No, I didn't. I just don't know how long I can keep it a secret. I mean, yeah, it didn't seem so bad adopting Kourin's name at the time...But now..." The youth sighed, reaching up to play with a strand of the other's golden hair. "Now, Im stuck. I don't know who I am anymore."
"You're you, and I love you." Ayuru bent down and captured the other's lips, a soft caress that only promised more to come later. "Kourin, Ryuuen, it doesn't matter just as long as you're you."
The shorter man sighed, laying his head on his lover's shoulder, "Thank you."
"Come to bed, my love. You need to rest before the concert tonight."
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The door to the house slammed open suddenly, startling Miaka and Saihitei, who sat in the living room, the former on the phone talking to her brother, who apparently thought the idea of the reincarnated Nuriko being a superstar was nothing but a joke, and the later staring at the wall in a daze.
"I got them, are you freakin happy now!" Genrou exclaimed, wiping snow off of his jacket, "Seven darn tickets, as close as I could get us. Happy!"
"Really!" Miaka cried, Keisuke forgotten as she bounced around, "What row! What row!"
"The third. Here." The man threw a vanilla envelope at the former priestess, "Cost me a freakin fortune."
"THANK YOU TSUZUKI!" She tackled him, sending them both to the floor in a heap. "OH THANK YOU!"
Saihitei blinked, turning to look at them without much expression on his face.
"Sai?"
"I never got to say goodbye." He murmured, "I lost him then. What if...I lose him now? What if I tel him how I feel, and he doesn't remember us? What if-"
"Hotohori!" Genrou had gotten to his feet, and his eyes smoldered in anger. "Stop acting like a freakin woman and just tell him tonight! You were the emperor for Suzaku's sake! Get the freak over it!"
"Get...over it?" He blinked in surprise. Could it really be that simple?
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"Nuriko? May I speak with you?" A voice I wasn't expecting to hear cut across my musings, making me look up.
"S-Sire!" I was dumbfounded, he wanted to speak with me? Why? Had I done something wrong? "Of course! Please, sit, Sire."
"Please, Nuriko. Call me Hotohori." He smiled at me and I wanted to melt. He was so beautiful, it was a sin to be in his presence. "We are Suzaku seishi, brothers in arms." I could see the shadow's behind his eyes and I began to worry. "Si-Hotohori, what is troubling you?"
"Is it wrong to be afraid?" He asked with a sigh, "I am constantly frightened. About losing my kingdom, my life...I am scared, Nuriko. I have never been scared before."
"Never?" I raised an eyebrow at that, "Come now, there has to be something you were frightened about as a child?"
"Well," He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and it made me smile. "I guess, I was scared of the ocean. It made me feel so small, so insignificant. I felt lost."
I laid a hand on his arm gently, shocked by my own daring, "Are you still afraid of the ocean?"
He blinked, "No. No, Im not. Because I have realized even the smallest of us can make a difference."
"Well then, it is certainly normal to feel fear, Hotohori. You see, even I am scared. I am afraid that life will catch me before I am ready. I want to make a difference, Sire, I want to be able to proudly sit and say I made a difference in the world. I don't want to look back with regret on my face."
"You have made a difference, Nuriko." He gave me another heart-melting smile. "You have made a difference in one man's life."
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"I don't understand you, Nuriko." Hotohori gave me a small frown, "You rushed those bandits without a second thought. What if they had hurt you? Killed you, even? You are far too important to be wasting your life on such trivial matters."
"Trivial matters, My Sire, they were taking advantage of you!"
"That is not a reason for putting your life on the line!" He cried, startling all those around us. Not many people have heard their Emperor angry before. Or at least not yelling. He usually just seethed quietly.
I lowered my head, "Then what is? What is worth me putting my life on the line? I am stubborn, Hotohori, I do not understand the words 'retreat' or 'run away.' I take on anyone, anywhere."
Hotohori stared at the dirt floor for a moment, his voice low, "Thank you, Nuriko."
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Ryuuen woke with a gasp, sitting straight up in bed, a hand over her heart. What was that? Some strange dream? Had to have been. He took in a few deep breaths, shook of Ayuru's concerns, and got ready for the concert, his thoughts far away as he wondered exactly who this 'Hotohori' was...and why his heart hurt so much at seeing his face.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Ryuuen grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and began scribbling. Mere minutes later, he had written two new songs, their lyrics reflecting the hidden meaning his dreams seemed to hold. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to meet angry blue eyes staring at the paper in a rage.
"Ayuru?" He blinked, "What's wrong?"
The blonde frowned, his eyes as cold as ice. "For Hotohori."
The youth gasped, eyes flickering back to the paper, for there, above the lyrics, were the words, 'For Hotohori.' Oh Suzaku, what had he done?
"You are not to sing those songs. Ever. Do you hear me, Ryuuen? EVER!" The taller man shook the younger hard, nearly screaming.
"I...I wont...Please stop, Ayuru-I wont!" He cried, wincing at the bruises left over from the attack. "Please...Ayuru...Why? Who is...Hotohori?"
The blonde put a hand to his head, "He...He hurt you, Ryuuen. He hurt you very badly. You were so traumatized...I had too...Do you understand? I didn't want too, but they made me! They said...Electric shock would be enough to snap you back. To make you live. They were right, Ryu. You came back to me. Whole, undamaged." He let his hand fall, tears in his eyes. He touched the other's cheek gently, "He hurt you so badly...I don't want you to ever be hurt like that again. Please...Just promise me you will stay away from him. Please?"
The singer nodded, tears in his own eyes. So...That was it. That was why he would recall memories that weren't his, memories of things that had never happened. That was why he remembered dying at the hands of the one he had no name for. The one who laughed so hard he cried when they took his body away. So that was him...Hotohori.
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