Author Fangirling: Please through time and space of the story out of your mind for this and just enjoy it.
"Let me get this straight, Miaka," Tamahome raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "I use my hard earned money to buy a slip of paper…" he thumbed it, "without knowing if I'll even get anything else?"
Her bangs bobbed as she nodded her head. "It's call a lottery. All the money people spend on the slips of paper gets pooled together, and one person can win all of it."
"That's too risky," he grumbled and set the little paper back down. "There aren't enough people dumb enough to throw their money away for there to be much money to begin with. Heck, I'm surprised anyone does it. If I ever want to through my money away, I'll make sure it was for more than a little slip of pa--"
"Wow! Take a look at this week's jackpot, Tamahome!" she pointed to a sign for him to see. All the zeros reflected through his eyes as he abruptly stopped complaining. Putting her hankerchief to his chin to wipe off the drool, Miaka continued. "You could do a lot with that money, couldn't you?"
"A lot? That doesn't even begin to cover it," he started to glaze over, thinking of all the possibilities. His family could eat a good meal everyday, he couldbuy medicine for his father, fix the holes in the roof so the bedswouldn't soak the next time it rained… but why stop there? He could move them all into a nice, big house- no, mansion- , and let his sisters dress up in the pretty robes they deserve. Chuuei could even take on a better hobby than Fishing-for-Survival 101.
As tempting as it was to reach back at the ticket, he held back. After all, that money would need to be split up between a new blanket to be shared around the house, tools for cutting firewood, and the emergency stash. This "lottery" would have to be something for him to forget.
Miaka, however, could read everything on his face. Maybe it was because of how much time they already spent together, or just because Tamahome's easy to read. She hoped, though, that it was because of a special bond that had that she could tell exactly what he was thinking. "Sir? I'll buy one lottery ticket."
Tamahome whipped his head back around in surprise as she made the purchase. With a wide smile, she handed it to him. "Here's how it works. You need to pick out seven lucky numbers to put in these spaces here, see? And then at the end of the week, we can watch the news to find out what the winning numbers were."
News? Surely he though the talking box was called a "television", but perhaps it was something else people in her world would watch for information. That wasn't something he could think about right now, though. He had to find out what the lucky numbers were.
1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7.
"You know what I think would be lucky?" Miaka looked back at him with bright eyes. "There's seven warriors of Suzaku, so how about everyone picks out what number they think will be luckiest?"
No. They were his numbers. He wanted to be the one to make sure they were all lucky. But Miaka's suggestion didn't translate into a suggestion. Rather, it meant, "I paid for it. What I say goes." Oh well. This might have some perks… after all, if he completely messed up, he could put the blame on others instead of feeling guilty about solely wasting Miaka's money.
The first person to find was not only important to him as a fellow warrior from the start, but also as a rival. Excitedly, he sought a request from the emperor.
"You've come all this way," Hotohori folded his arms as if his hopes were dashed, "to ask me for a number?"
"That's right. A number."
"A number of what, and what number? I understand you're very poor, Tamahome, but for to come out right and--"
"That's not what I'm asking for!"
"You interrupted me," he half-glared back at him. "But if not for your family, then what is this number for?"
"Well… it sort of is for my family. And you don't need to give me anything. I just need you to pick a number."
"I'm not sure I understand, Tamahome," he started to get a little irritated, wondering why in the world Tamahome would need him, of all people, to pick a number. Perhaps he had a bet going with someone, and his answer would decide it? How degrading. "Why can't you pick out a number yourself?"
"I can. And I was planning to, see…"
"No, I don't see."
"It's for a little game. I was going to pick out the lucky numbers myself, but…"
Ah hah. Perhaps it was a bet. "And why didn't you? Don't you have faith in your own luck--"
"I do! I'm not afraid to pick out my own numbers at all!"
"Tsk, tsk. Interrupting me again?"
"Sorry," the poorer boy looked down at his feet. "I have to ask you… because… well…"
"Well?" Hotohori pursed his lips. It was about time he spill everything about a vulgar bet.
"Miaka told me to ask you," he said sheepishly.
"Oh?" he perked up, with a subconscious smile from ear to ear. "Did she? How… interesting." Take that, Tamahome! Miaka's making you go to him for his input! Bow down and admit defeat!
No, no, he shushed himself. He was the vulgar one for thinking ill of Tamahome. Besides, he could order him to bow down whenever he wanted.
"Yes. So what's your lucky number?"
"My lucky number…" he thought for a moment. "The number 1."
Tamahome couldn't help but think what a boring choice it was. "The loneliest number?"
"So what if it's lonely? It's just as bad as two." Hotohori spun back around to face him. "Besides. Only one person can be number one… so that person has to be lucky."
"Since you put it that way, I guess it makes sense," he shrugged and wrote it down. Off to find the next person on his list. However, seeking him would mean treading in uncertain territory: the harem ladies' quarters.
Ducking around all the curious glances of the surrounding women, Tamahome beat his fist against Nuriko's door, eager to hide his embarrassed face with someone he knew. The door opened, and he was greeted with a familiar, feminine face.
"May I help you?"
"Cut the polite-speak, Nuriko, I just came to ask you a quick question," he invited himself.
"I'm sorry?" a frantic voice backed away. "If you would please, don't intrude into my bedroom-!"
"What are you talking about?" he turned back around with a grumpy face to see that it was not actually Nuriko who he had intruded on, but rather a startled harem woman with similar features, right down to the mole under her eye. He gulped as he realized his mistake, but wasn't sure exactly what course of action to take.
"Houki, what's the matter in here?" the real Nuriko- or rather, Lady Kourin- barged in. The real woman ran to his side.
"I couldn't stop him, he just walked right in on me!"
"I- that is- I thought--"
Realizing what had happened, Nuriko laughed his usual sassy laugh and dragged the stunned- and even more embarrassed- Tamahome out of the room without much trouble. "So sorry about that. I'll beat some sense into him for you."
"Thank you, Lady Kourin."
Once away from all of the on looking harem members, Nuriko's sassy smirk transformed into a rolling fit of laughter at his friend's misfortune. Resisting the urge to whack some sense into him because he knew it would come back ten-fold, Tamahome bit his lip and waited patiently for the laughter to subside.
"W-what did you need, Tama?" he wiped away a few tears as he quieted down.
"Just pick a number. What number do you think is lucky?"
"Hhm? That's an interesting question to go --heehee-- tromp through the harem's quarters to find me for," he smiled, and then thought about it seriously. "How high can it go?"
"Up to 99."
"99 is such a boring number. I'll bet everyone picks it… just like 1."
"Ha… yeah. Just like one," Tamahome sweated a little and made sure he was hiding the face of the ticket that already had that number written down.
"I'll pick… 73."
"Any reason?"
"No. Just a whim."
"Just a whim," he repeated as he wrote 73 down next to 1. "Thanks, that's all I needed."
"Really? That's it?"
"Well, no. I need to get numbers from the other warriors, too."
"Well, if it's just warriors, you can go that way to Kutou and find a few," he joked as he pointed with one hand. "Or just around the corner," he continued with the other hand in the opposite direction, "and find Chiriko in the library."
Sure enough, the child was diligently studying in the near-silent library. Careful not to disturb anyone, Tamahome tiptoed across the large room, and finally got his attention by taping on his shoulder.
It did more than catch his attention. Rather, it startled him so much that he yelped and his character faded away. So much for him making an educated guess.
"T-Tamahome! It's only you…" he caught his breath. "Ya' really scared me."
"Y-yeah," he looked in the other direction, a little embarrassed, as a librarian sent him a stern glance. "Can you do me a quick favor?"
"I-I dunno," he looked back down at his foot unconfidently. "I might not be able to now that--"
"I just need to pick a number, you don't have to think about it!"
Thelibrarian looked over and shushed them, and Tamahome took a deep breath to make sure he was obeying the rules.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I can help," he apologized. "Maybe if you ask me later when my character is back, I'll be able to think about numbers again."
"You don't to think about it- it can be completely random! Whatever number pops in your head first."
"1000."
"No, it has to be under 100... And try being a little more creative with it."
"B-but you said any number would work!" Again the two were shushed. "Besides… how can I be creative when my brain won't even work right?"
"You don't- geez. You don't have to take it so seriously," Tamahome sighed. Chiriko reminded him just a little bit of Chuuei, who would get very uspet when he wasn't able to live up to his expectations of himself. Remembering this, he took a different approach with a gentle smile. "Take a deep breath, and see what number comes to you first."
The boy did so, and became very quiet as he let a couple digits fill his head. "29."
"Got it, thanks."
And with that, he promptly left the library and currently slow minded little boy. To his fortune, Tasuki was strolling by. "Was that you in a library, Tama?"
"What's so strange about that?" he glared, temptedto reply 'and is that you, heading into one?'.
"Nothing, I just didn't expect to see ya' there," the bandit casually threw his arms behind his head and started to walk off. Tamahome followed eagerly as he turned the corner.
"Hey, Tasuki, it's a good thing a I ran into you. I need you to pick a lucky number real fast."
Tasuki stopped in his tracks with a surprised expression. "Oh, I get it. You made a bet with someone, huh?"
"No, why would I risk my money on--" he stopped himself, as he thought back over what a 'lottery' was. In a sense, he was making a bet with multitudes of people over that one pile of money. That gargantuan pile of money. "…No. I wouldn't risk my money on something like a bet." After all, it was technically Miaka's money.
"Well then I don't see why you need a number from me," the bandit continued walking.
"Okay! Fine! It is a bet!" the poor boy begged.
He would have responded to just the truth, but responding to begging was even better. "Now yer' talkin'," he smiled wide enough for the light to shine off his fangs. "I say… 29 is lucky! After all, nobody ever picks it, so it's luck must not have run out yet."
"Nope, can't use it," Tamahome looked back at his little slip of paper. "Chiriko already picked 29." And at the very moment he was mentioned, Chiriko sneezed hard enough for his character to return. He couldn't return to his studies, however, because the irritated librarian promptly kicked him out of the library.
"You brought a kid into a bet?" Tasuki yelled in disbelief. He thought Tamahome was better than that.
"I- I didn't want to! Miaka made me do it!"
"She brought a kid into a bet?" Tasuki yelled again in disbelief. He thought Miaka was better than that.
However, the fact that Tamahome succumbed to her little whim really made Tamahome the low one. Tasuki thought Tamahome was better than that.
Or rather… never mind.
"Just pick a new number," Tamahome scratched the back of his head.
"Why should I?"
"Please?"
"46."
"Got it, thanks!" he wrote it down and fled off to find someone else. The bandit was left wondering why he succumbed so easily to those "magic words". Damn those magic words. And he thought he was better than that.
Two more warriors left to find, Tamahome thought to himself as he looked over the list. Next was either Mitsukake or--
"Da!"
--Chichiri.
"Dah! Chichiri, don't scare me like that!" Tamahome panted as his heart returned to it's normal rhythm.
"Oh, sorry about that na no da. Can I make it up to you?"
"You bet you can!" he stood right back up. "What's your lucky number?"
"My lucky number is 4."
"Thanks!" he yelled as he started to write it down, but paused. "Wait… in Miaka's language… isn't the number 4 synonymous with…"
"Death?" he continued to smile widely. "Well, maybe it isn't lucky all the time no da."
"Can numbers get any more unlucky?" Tamahome looked back at him wildly, hoping he would change his answer. "Why in the world would that be your lucky number?"
"Well," the mask frowned a little, feeling somewhat insulted about his preferences. "The character on my knee takes four strokes to write. So I've always been fond of that number over others no da."
"Oh," Tamahome quieted down. "I'm sorry. I never would have thought of that."
"Or maybe it just means I'm one who's unlucky no da," he lifted his hat over head. "But who knows? Maybe it'll give you better luck." Dropping the hat over his head, he immediately disappeared.
Feeling a little guilty for insulting him, the previously energetic boy moped off to retrieve a number from the final warrior.
Mitsukake, at the moment, was laughing quietly to himself as he noticed a little girl picking the petals off a flower to find out whether or not she'd be lucky in love. How foolish is was, to think that an innocent flower's misfortune would foretell your own. Even worse was the superstition of rabbit's feet, because the rabbits were about as unlucky as they could get.
At least he knew better than to rely on such pety things as "luck".
"Mitsukake! What's your lucky number?"
He looked around to make sure someone really did ask him that. Sure enough, there was Tamahome, with a very determined look on his face.
"Tamahome," he forced a smile. "I don't believe in lucky numbers."
"Then pick any number. It doesn't have to be 'lucky', if that's how you feel," he moaned, hoping to avoid an argument.
"It would be better for you to put your faith into something else."
"Please, Mitsukake, I just need one little- or not so little- number!"
"Well," he looked back into his head. He was surprised, though, that Tamahome went so far out of his way to ask for his opinion on this one number. It felt good to be respected for your opinion. Perhaps this would open a whole new line of communication with his fellow warrior. "Let's go with… 76."
"76?" Tamahome turned back to his list. "Well, I already have a 73... But okay, that'll work. Bye."
He already had other numbers than the oh-so-important one he pleaded with him for? Mitsukake suddenly didn't feel quite so special as he ran off. Perhaps today just wasn't his lucky day.
At last, he had gathered all of his friend's lucky numbers, and it was time for him to pick his one. The one number he had been so worked up about picking. The make-it-or-break-it final number. He never really kept one important number.
Perhaps something to do with Miaka. After all, she was his one and only…. But Hotohori had already chosen the number 1.
Or his family? He had four younger, precious siblings… but Chichiri had already taken that.
Maybe the age difference between him and his father? No, Chiriko (and Tasuki) had taken that. Besides, now he was getting too complicated.
He closed his eyes to let the right number come to him… until they shot back open, bright with the perfect idea.
He and Miaka returned later that day to give man behind the lottery counter the ticket. The man raised both eyebrows as he looked at it, but then shrugged and handed him a copy to keep when he watched the "news". At the end of the week as he and Miaka prepared to watch the results, he concluded that the "news" must be another name for the talking box.
Miaka and Keisuke handed him a bowl of what they called "popcorn" as the excited telecaster read the teleprompter, getting everyone excited with him as he turned a handle on a small cage fills with little yellow balls. The man disappeared suddenly, but Tamahome could still here hear his voice narrating as television showed one of the balls roll out of the cage.
"1!"
His heart skipped a beat. That was the first number he had written down on his little slip of paper.
"73!"
Two for two. He started to get a little hopeful smile.
"29!"
That smile was now ear to ear in anticipation.
"46!"
He already had over half of them right. Miaka and Keisuke were cheering loudly as each number was announced.
"4!"
"That's lucky?" Keisuke asked. Miaka shushed him as they continued watching eagerly.
"76!"
One more. Just one more. And it all came down to Tamahome's number. Would his be the loosing one, and he would have to take all of the blame? Or would that perfect number be the one to…
"Hang on, folks, it's stuck..." the man in the television said. Miaka and her brother and lover watched wide-eyed as they heard disrumbled gruntings from the glowing box, and then a brief screen that flashed back saying "technical difficulties." Tamahome's jaw dropped as he protested that "technical difficulties" wasn't even a number.
"31!" the voice finally yelled.
Tamahome jumped out of his seat and started hugging Miaka profusely. It was his number. Thanks to his number 31, his family would eat- no, eat well- for the rest of their now prosperous lives. More than a dream come true, it was more than anything he had ever dreamed of.
The next day, Miaka accompanied her still very excited love to the counter to retrieve his prize. "Hey, Mister. We're here for the money!"
"What money?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The lottery money!" she protested. Didn't you see his ticket? They were the winning numbers!"
"The winning numbers?" the man queried.
"Yes! 1, 73, 29, 46, 4, 76, and 31. They were on his ticket!" she pointed backwards to Tamahome, who was unsure what to do about the confusion.
"Oh- that ticket!" the man said. "Is that what those said?"
"W-what do you mean, 'is that what those said'?"
The man leaned under the counter to pull out Tamahome's ticket, and showed it back to the two of them. "Sorry, kid. We couldn't read the Chinese."
And thus, Miaka was left dragging her stunned and near-lifeless love back home.
Poor Tama. Anyway, some quick notes about why I chose the numbers:
1: I can't picture him having any other lucky number. Than, and his little quote on a popularity contest pictures had him saying (translated), "I'm number 1 when it comes to being pretty!"
73: Was sort of random. I wanted Nuriko to have a lucky 7 in his digits, and I knew I also wanted it to be prime.
29: This has actually been MY lucky number for quite some time. And all because I wrote lyrics to "Track 29" on a soundtrack and got excited whenever that song came on so I could sing them. "So have a seeeat!"
46: When I was in the 6th grade, I had to make a big project about a number, and this was the one I did. 4 and 6 were upset because even though they were the best of friends, they didn't make such a great number together. They had confidence issues until the math wizard came to help them do some self-exploration.
4: Has always, always been my lucky single-digit number.
76: On a recent popularity poll in Japan for all of the Fushigi Yuugi characters, Shouka placed 76th with only 1 single vote. As child-Shouka, though, she had 10. Mistukake, on the other hand, shared 28th /29th place with Tama-neko with 83 votes each. …as compared to the thousands the top characters got.
31: this was… completely, completely random. Tamahome's one of the characters who I never delved into quite as much as the others… I like him and all, and have plenty of jokes about him… but I never really get into him. This was a little bit of a challenge for me to write in that aspect.