Hidden Paths on a CloudCast Night

by roku kyu

An apocalyptic threat to two worlds reunites old friends and enemies...and lovers parted for ten years. Ch. 17. "Keep your friends close...and your enemies closer."

15. The burden of rule

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction other than my enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline for this story and all original characters do belong to me (and yes, the dang text as well:P) and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Warning: Excessive chapter length. :P No, really! Oh, and hints of shounen ai (boy/boy love).

Acknowledgment: My deepest gratitude to Purple Mouse for beta-reading this monolithic chapter.

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Chapter 15. The Burden of Rule

Kutou

The cherry trees drooped beneath their burden of fragrant blossoms, raining pale pink petals onto the tangled grasses below. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of the taller oaks and maples, sending dappled spots of light dancing across the ground, creating an aura of magic throughout the secluded garden.

Nuriko didn't like it.

He didn't like any of it. He didn't like the overgrown, untended look of the Imperial garden. He didn't like the moss-covered statuary that managed to appear decadently erotic even under its green mantle of neglect. He didn't like the quiet, elderly monk who sat near them in an apparent meditative state, supposedly attending them as an honor escort but more likely as armed guard.

Most of all, he didn't like the smile beaming from the face of the dark-haired Seiryuu seishi who strode towards them with a graceful, confident gait. That smile shaded over into something a little too warm and familiar when it was directed at Hotohori, and Nuriko had to suppress a sudden urge to wipe it off the man's face. With his fists.

His one solace was that Hotohori was no more taken in by that smile than he was. She waited beside him, her characteristic serenity replaced with inexplicable tension.

The monk reached them and bowed before them. Hotohori merely nodded coldly, surprising Nuriko with her hostile manner. "Miboshi-sama."

The monk bowed even deeper but upon straightening, flashed Hotohori the same impudent grin as he had in the throne room. "Heika, there is no need to call me 'Lord.' Although my family is of respectable origins, they are hardly noble."

"Nor am I of royal lineage any longer, Miboshi-sama."

"Perhaps, but your nobility is intrinsic, and cannot be taken from you regardless of the circumstances of your birth."

Nuriko nearly growled out loud, hearing Miboshi echo Houki's words of many days ago. How dare the demon monk speak to Hotohori with the familiarity of an old friend? It was time to put a stop to this nonsense.

"You promised us an explanation before you had your servants push us out here." He knew his brusque tone crossed over into rudeness, but he didn't care. "We've waited for the past hour, and at last you've decided to show up. What have you got to say for yourself?"

Miboshi turned his gaze on Nuriko, who found himself caught up in the intensity of that sapphire stare. There was something sharply assessing in that gaze, and something else beneath that—could it be appreciation? To his chagrin, Nuriko felt himself flush in combined anger and self-consciousness.

"Ah, Suzaku no Nuriko, you're every bit as direct as your reputation indicates. But if I may venture to correct your mistaken impression, Master Hotaka is not my servant. Far from it; he is an honored elder master of the Order of Seiryuu, and my personal mentor."

"So you're not the leader of the Seiryuu monks?"

"Only as far as secular matters are concerned. I'm afraid that I'm not close enough to enlightenment to be charged with the spiritual guidance of my brothers." White teeth gleamed in his tanned face, and even the elderly monk gave off waves of amusement, although his expression remained outwardly serene.

Feeling as if he stood on the outside of an inside joke, Nuriko nearly snarled in irritation. "You still haven't answered my question!"

"You still haven't asked any specific question," Miboshi countered smoothly. "But it's too lovely a day to spend arguing in this confined area. There's a charming wood just beyond the gate that will give us privacy from prying eyes and ears; why don't we talk as we walk?"

He bowed once more to Hotohori, who brushed past him with barely concealed contempt. To Nuriko's outrage, the monk openly ogled Hotohori's shapely backside, and upon catching Nuriko's glare, merely winked and went back to ogling. Nuriko stepped quickly between them, determined to shield Hotohori from Miboshi's appreciative leer. It wasn't until fifty paces later that it occurred to him that Miboshi might now be ogling his backside. He whirled around, enraged—only to see the Seiryuu seishi absorbed in quiet conversation with Master Hotaka.

Miboshi nodded politely at the elderly monk, then caught up to the Suzaku seishi in a few strides. "Nuriko-san, as far as your questions are concerned, this seems as good a time as any to begin."

"What are we doing here?" burst out Nuriko. "Why did Taiitsukun summon us here to assist the Emperor, only to have him assassinated before our eyes? Or was that a development she knew nothing about?"

Miboshi met Nuriko's gaze straight on. "I don't know the Oracle's motives or the extent of her knowledge. All I know is what my god instructs, and he instructed me to stabilize the government so that you might take over. As surprising as it is to think of Kutou under the control of Suzaku warriors, our alliance may be our only hope for survival, so we must do our best to trust one another."

"I'm afraid that will be impossible." Hotrohori's normally smooth tones held a ragged edge of emotion. "I will work with you, Lord Miboshi, but I will never trust you."

"Those are harsh words, Lady Hotohori, considering that we've just met."

"I may not have met you in person, but I've seen your handiwork. I have the memories of my former life—and I remember what you'd done." She kept her back to them as she walked ahead, but they saw her hand tremble as she pushed a branch out of her way. "I held his body, you see. They brought him back to the palace for an honorable burial, but before they took him away, I..."

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face them, and Nuriko was surprised to see tears shining in her dark gold eyes. "He was my celestial brother and my friend. He was just a child—but you killed him all the same."

Nuriko felt the punch of shock take his breath away, realizing for the first time that he stood in the presence of the man who had killed Chiriko.

Miboshi had lost his easy smile, but he met her accusing stare unflinchingly. "I have never killed a child, my lady."

"Very well, call him a warrior if that is your excuse! But it doesn't change the fact that you killed him—or forced him to take his own life!"

"I have never brought harm to any Suzaku warrior. Not ever."

Nuriko's frustration boiled over. "How can you stand there and brazenly lie to us? How do you expect us to move on from this if you won't even admit the truth?"

Those dark sapphire eyes fixed calmly on his face. "How old would you say I am, Nuriko-sama?"

Nuriko stared at him. "Er…twenty-seven?"

"Twenty-six, actually. I was just a boy of sixteen during the Kutou-Konan war, luckily living far enough from the capital to keep from being conscripted into the Kutou Army."

"I'm no fool, Lord Miboshi. I know perfectly well that you possess others to keep your soul alive." Hotohori was practically bristling with hostility.

"Well," the smirk suddenly reappeared on Miboshi's face, "I won't deny possessing a few willing bodies in my time, but it was with their consent and for our mutual pleasure. However, if demon possession is what you mean, I've never taken part in that. You see, I'm incapable of such acts, since I'm not a demon."

"Seiryuu Celestial Warrior Miboshi is a demon! Everyone knows that!"

"My predecessor in this position was a demon capable of many evil deeds, including possession of unwilling victims. However, once that dark and twisted soul was cast into hell by your own celestial warrior Chiriko, Taiitsukun and Seiryuu declined to fetch it out again."

"I don't understand. How did you—?" Nuriko spread his hands, confused.

"Just ahead is a lovely little clearing and a spring from an underground source. I'll need some refreshment if I'm going to relate my long and fascinating history to you, so come along."

Hotohori and Nuriko followed in the monk's wake, blinking in confusion. In less than a minute, they reached the clearing, and Nuriko might have been charmed by the tiny sunlit sanctuary had he not been impatient to hear Miboshi's explanation. Instead, he stood tapping his fingers against his elbows when Miboshi gestured them to seat themselves on the thick, cool grass. However, Hotohori accepted Miboshi's offer, sinking to the ground and picking tiny white flowers hidden among the grasses, pressing them between her fingers so that the sweet scent of chamomile drifted through the air.

"Water, Nuriko-sama?" Miboshi offered politely, moving to the spring at the edge of the clearing and producing a small, wooden bowl from the folds of his robe. Nuriko followed, drawn by the tempting burble of the water, only to see the Seiryuu seishi holding out his bowl between his cupped hands as liquid beaded and dripped from between his long fingers. Damn the man! How did he manage to turn the simplest of gestures into an act fraught with sexual suggestiveness?

"I'll get my own," grumbled Nuriko ungraciously, dipping his hand into the water and carrying it to his mouth. Cool and sweet, carrying the scent of the herbs which drooped over the spring, this water was the first wonderful thing that he had encountered in Kutou. After a second draught, he splashed a handful into his heated face, then turned to invite Hotohori to join him…

…only to see her drinking from Miboshi's bowl.

Nuriko hoped that he hadn't growled out loud.

Master Hotaka moved up to refresh himself from the spring, his aura of amusement penetrating even the red haze of fury surrounding Nuriko, so that the Suzaku seishi regained control before committing some act of ill-conceived violence.

"Miboshi-san!" he snapped. "I believe we've waited long enough for your promised explanation!"

The monk smiled at him as he wiped his hands on his robes. "Of course, Nuriko-sama. I merely thought to look to the lady's needs before we embarked on our intercourse."

Nuriko wondered if in any of his lives he had ever wanted to hit someone as badly as he wanted to hit the smirking Seiryuu warrior.

"What kind of monk are you?" he cried out in frustration.

"Not much of a monk at all, I'm afraid. But unfortunately, I haven't been given much of a choice in the matter…and this seems as good a place as any to begin my story." Miboshi patted the ground beside him invitingly. Nuriko seated himself, irritated at the impulse that made him choose a spot safely out of the monk's reach. Nodding politely to Hotohori, Miboshi took a deep breath.

"I've already told you of the fate of the previous Seiryuu no Miboshi. A demon is a poor choice as a celestial warrior, if for no other reason than its unpredictability. Even my patron god, with his all-encompassing desire to win against his brother seikun, was forced to see the demon soul of Miboshi as a liability rather than an asset. So when Suzaku no Chiriko unexpectedly defeated my predecessor, Seiryuu didn't make an effort to regain his warrior's soul. He struck a deal with Taiitsukun in which he would be permitted to choose a new soul for his seventh warrior."

"And you were the best he could find?" Nuriko asked, not bothering to conceal his skepticism.

Miboshi shrugged, thoughtfully rubbing the bump on the bridge of his nose. "You might not believe that a god could make errors, but Seiryuu was misled by circumstance—and by his ardent desire to have his own version of Suzaku's most powerful warrior."

"I don't understand. He already had Tamahome's counterpart—Nakago." Hotohori leaned in, frowning.

"Ah, I see. Even among the Suzaku warriors, you've failed to recognize the most powerful among you, no doubt due to his retiring nature. Not to insult Suzaku no Tamahome; he had prodigious strength of spirit and a dynamic soul, and with your combined strength behind him, he was indeed a match for Nakago. But there was one warrior who could deflect Nakago's attacks on his own; one to whom you all turned for counsel and whose hand guided you throughout your quest—one whose true power remained hidden but would've been exposed had your priestess not succeeded in summoning Suzaku."

"Do you mean Chichiri?"

"Yes, I mean Suzaku no Chichiri. He's the warrior who most impressed Seiryuu, the one whom Seiryuu most desired. But knowing that Suzaku would sooner give up his left wing than bestow his key warrior on Seiryuu, my god decided that the next best thing was to find a Chichiri of his own. He also concluded that since Suzaku no Chichiri was a monk, the best place to search for his counterpart would most likely be a monastery. So that's where he encountered me almost four years ago, living among the Seiryuu monks."

"You were studying to become a monk," Nuriko said, his voice flat with disbelief.

"Well…errr…that's where the error part comes in. I wasn't exactly studying to join the order; in fact, I was hiding out at the monastery because my family had sequestered me there in fear for my life. You see, a local noble was out for my blood. Lord Washio had procured a very pretty young thing as his fourth wife. The trouble was that due to his advanced age, he was less than capable…er, let's just say that she was bored and frustrated and…almost right next door. Unfortunately, once Lord Washio learned of my tutoring of his new wife, he became somewhat incensed with me—although in my opinion he should have been grateful to me for keeping her entertained and content—and put a price on my head, thus necessitating my removal from the immediate area."

"So instead of a monk, Seiryuu got himself a pervert!" burst out Nuriko. "I should've known!"

Hotohori merely put her hand up to her mouth to hide her smile.

"Nevertheless, Seiryuu must have seen something in me that made him think my soul was suitable for that of a celestial warrior. After all, proud as you must be of your own chastity, Nuriko-sama, that is a quality required of the priestess, not her seishi protectors."

Nuriko was rendered speechless with rage, and Hotohori broke in quickly to defuse the situation.

"Yet despite not being a true monk, you were still chosen by Seiryuu. You must have other powers, Miboshi-sama, powers comparable to those of Chichiri."

"I have some abilties, yes, but I'm not fool enough to imagine myself on the same level as Suzaku no Chichiri. You see, once Seiryuu had made his intentions known to me, I traveled for a while in Konan in hopes of learning more about Chichiri—his origins and all. What I learned…" Miboshi smiled ruefully. "Well, let's just say that I'm not on his level, no matter how much training I might undertake. Yet Seiryuu seems to feel that I'm a worthy representative…although we have had our disagreements."

"You talk as if you have frequent conversations with Seiryuu," Hotohori remarked thoughtfully, "which seems strange to me. The only way that Suzaku communicates with us is through Taiitsukun and at times, our priestess. I'd been taught in my last life that the gods do not speak directly to their seishi."

"I wouldn't say that my god and I have frequent or informal conversations. The few times that we have communicated have to do with me being a new soul joining the Seiryuu; after all, I can hardly give my full consent unless I know specifically what he asks of me." Miboshi stood up and wandered back to the spring, kneeling beside it and dipping his hand into the water. "Not that I hold with all of his whims. We had to set some boundaries about two years ago."

In spite of his resentment, Nuriko couldn't restrain his curiosity. "How can you argue with your god?"

Miboshi looked up, his eyes flashing for a moment. "Make me angry enough, and you'll soon find that I care little for my opponent's status, be he god, demon, or the Lord of Hell himself. In his desire to mold me into another Chichiri, Seiryuu overstepped the line. One day, as I was taking a drink, a branch flew out of the water straight at my face. Luckily, I had the reflexes to dodge enough so that instead of taking out my eye, it merely broke my nose." He gingerly touched the bump on the bridge of his nose.

Hotohori gasped. "He wanted you to lose your eye? But that has nothing to do with Chichiri's powers!"

"True enough, my lady. It was Seiryuu's cosmetic preference, that's all."

Nuriko snorted. "All the same, why would you blame Seiryuu for that incident? Branches often get caught in river currents, and if the water is rough enough, they can seem to fly out. It could have been coincidence."

"Except that it wasn't a river, Nuriko-sama. I was drinking from a quiet spring like this one." Miboshi laughed at the Suzaku seishi's horrified expressions. "Don't worry; I had no intention of spending the rest of my days dodging mysterious flying objects. With my nose dripping blood, I shouted up to the heavens, to Seiryuu himself. I told him that if he wanted me to be an exact copy of Suzaku no Chichiri, I'd make sure to swear allegiance to Suzaku as well, and then he could find himself reduced to six seishi while Suzaku had eight. Although I received no reply, I believe that he saw reason in my argument, since there were no more celestial attacks on my features."

"But now, instead of being one of seven, you are all alone." Hotohori's voice was soft with sympathy, making Nuriko scowl at how quickly she was warming to this new version of Miboshi.

"You needn't feel sorry for me, my lady. After all, how can I complain when I now have the two loveliest Suzaku seishi as my comrades-in-arms?" Miboshi grinned at Nuriko's infuriated flush, but the grin faded as his tone grew serious. "I'd like to spend more time out here doing nothing more strenuous than enjoying your company; unfortunately, time is the one luxury we don't have. As much as I hate to leave this beautiful place, we must return to the palace to discuss our strategy.

"Somehow, some way, we three must find the means to bring an entire country back to life."

/-/-/-/

The huge chamber that Miboshi had led them to was at least as large as Hotohori's throne room in Eiyou, but instead of tasteful elegance, this room was designed with sleek efficiency. The Map Room, Miboshi had called it, but it was so much more than that, with large tables holding topographical models of the countries of the ShiJinTenChiSho, each rendered in exquisite detail. Along one wall were long-abandoned dovecotes that once held messenger pigeons. Probably ended up in a pie, thought Nuriko moodily.

Master Hotaka rested quietly in a corner of the room, apparently caught up in deep meditation, although Nuriko didn't doubt that he was very much alert and aware of all that was going on. Hotohori stood looking over the largest table, which supported a model of all four contiguous countries of the ShiJin. She ran her fingers wonderingly across ridged mountains and glassy seas.

"It's unbelievable!" she exclaimed. "Is it accurate?"

"To the smallest detail," Miboshi answered in a matter-of-fact tone. "Would Nakago tolerate anything less than perfection as he planned his strategies? If one is to successfully invade one's neighbors, one needs to know the lay of the land."

"We wouldn't know," muttered Nuriko as he wandered to a smaller adjacent table. "It wasn't Konan's policy to overthrow adjacent governments." His voice caught in his throat as he recognized the layout before him. "This is Eiyou!"

Hotohori swiftly joined him. "Look, the Imperial Palace! The road winding up the hill, all of the doors and balconies and…dear Suzaku, it even has the small cellar door through which I used to escape to the Imperial Wood!" She stopped, suddenly realizing the significance of the model. "Oh gods," she whispered. "Nakago knew the smallest details of the capital city and palace defenses. Had he not lost interest in conquering Konan on the cusp of victory—"

"The Imperial seat would have been destroyed, the Seishuku Dynasty ended, and the country of Konan even now plunged into poverty and misery so deep, she would be nearly unsalvageable. Just like Kutou." Miboshi's voice was grim.

Hotohori looked up at him. "You're not as superficial as you pretend, Miboshi-sama. The destruction of your country tears at your heart."

He turned his face away from them so that his dragon locks hid his expression, but Nuriko saw him swallow hard. "As would yours, Lady Hotohori." His voice was husky, but he attempted a cheeky smile. "I would hardly make an effective Seiryuu seishi if I cared little for Kutou, would I? And if Kutou falls, Konan will be next. Thus, our partnership. I will confess one thing to you, Lady Hotohori. I didn't regret cutting the throat of the previous Emperor…not at all. He has much to answer for in the next world."

"He wasn't the first cold-hearted tyrant—"

"But I intend him to be the last." He walked over to join Nuriko at the table which held the model of Kutou. "It won't be an easy task. Here…" he pointed to a green valley to the east of the capital, "here lie the holdings of another corrupt noble. But Lord Kuroda is a much more formidable adversary than even the previous Emperor. He watches and waits, and he will make his move when he is certain of victory. Therefore, we must keep him uncertain."

Nuriko sighed. "Are we going to spend all of our time fighting off takeover attempts? How can we hope to battle the Enemy or even make the slightest difference in Kutou's decline if we're tied up in stupid power struggles?"

"You've succinctly pointed out the problems in toppling any regime, tyrannical or not. It's much easier to take than to hold, yet hold is what we must do. We can't succeed, however, without the support of the general populace. And therein lies our problem, because the people are so decimated by famine and illness, they're not likely to care much about politics."

"So we make politics about food and medicine." Hotohori leaned over the table, studying the representation of Kutou as if it would yield up its secrets to her. "Before we can do that, we must find out how to obtain those supplies. Even if the other countries were willing or able to help, it would take too long for that help to arrive. The people of Kutou need food immediately, so we'll have to look within the country—and tax all of the richest nobles. We'll levy taxes to be paid in bushels of wheat and rice and other produce; gold is of less use to us now."

Nuriko opened his mouth to protest, but Miboshi spoke first. "The nobles will rebel. They'll band together to overthrow you, labeling you as a foreigner and accusing you of stealing the wealth of Kutou, little though it might be."

"Not if they get something in return." An elegant finger drew a line from the east coast of Kutou to the capital city in the west. "If I remember the lessons of my Imperial advisers correctly, in order to protect their individual interests, trade between the holdings of Kutou nobles is so heavily taxed that it is almost unfeasible."

"You're right," Miboshi nodded. "Even now, they're too proud to be the first to give in to practical needs; some holdings have mineral wealth but are starving because of lack of crops, while other noble houses watch their homes fall to ruin because of lack of building materials, and at the same time let full storehouses of grain rot from disuse."

"So we'll issue an Imperial decree forbidding taxation within Kutou, thus removing the need for the nobles to compromise their pride. They'll be forced to trade with one another, all the while grumbling that it's the fault of the Imperial government."

"But how will that appease the nobles?" asked Nuriko, honestly confused. "It sounds to me that you've removed one source of their income, then taxed them on the rest."

Hotohori smiled at him. "You're absolutely right. The nobility will only do what profits them, so we have to increase their profits. We'll do that by establishing an Imperial trade route between the east and west of Kutou, with security from bandits and raiding parties. The nobles will be able to get goods as easily from the farthest flung ports of Kutou as from their own estates, which in turn gives them access to sea trade with merchants from Sairou, Konan, and Hokkan. They can send entire caravans of goods back and forth with little of their own expense for security over land. And we'll guarantee their safety by assigning the current Imperial troops to protect those trade routes."

Nuriko's eyes widened in comprehension. "That will get the soldiers out of the capital city, and spread them out so that they can't stage a takeover!"

"We'll give them uniforms, rank, titles, and salary, and the ability to exercise their militaristic aggressions on hardened criminals. They'll be in battle every week. In a very short time, the nobles will see their wealth increase despite our new taxes, and we will at the same time neutralize a possible threat to our government."

Miboshi and Nuriko exchanged shocked gazes.

"She's brilliant!" burst out the Seiryuu seishi. "She's absolutely bloody brilliant! Excuse my language, my lady, but you're a walking, talking miracle!"

Hotohori laughed and blushed. "It's only a plan; we haven't carried it out yet."

"But it's a workable plan!" Nuriko enthused, too excited to be jealous of Miboshi for once. "I always knew that you would've been our greatest Emperor!"

Hotohori's smile faltered for a moment, but she forced it back in place. "Thank you, Nuriko. Your high opinion means a great deal to me."

Nuriko frowned, sensing some undercurrent but unsure of what exactly went wrong. Miboshi moved between them, bowing deeply to the young woman.

"And I know that you will be the greatest Empress that Kutou has ever seen—perhaps the greatest Empress in all of the history of the ShiJin."

"I'm not an Empress," Hotohori protested. "I'm just another seishi."

"But to the people of Kutou, you will be their savior. What greater title than that?"

"We'll all be their saviors, all of us together," Hotohori corrected him, but there was real warmth in her eyes as she smiled at him.

Nuriko stood quietly to the side, wondering why, despite the fact that he could touch her merely by reaching out, he felt as if Hotohori was slipping further away than at the end of his last life. For a moment, wrapped up in his own thoughts, he lost the thread of the conversation, but came awake as Hotohori described her plans to distribute government food to the populace.

"…have to find a way to keep the supplies flowing to people in the cities and towns and the countryside. We'll establish central supply depots where people can just take what they need, and we'll find out as we go how often we need to restock."

"You can't do that."

Hotohori stared at Nuriko, surprised. "Why not?"

"You need to have a census or a citizen identification tag, and you have to limit what you give to each family group, based on number of members. You can't just let people rush forward and take whatever they want."

"These people are starving, Nuriko! This is hardly the time to institute procedural obstacles—"

Nuriko slammed his hand down on a table. "This is exactly the time! What you propose will result in complete anarchy! The dishonest will take more than they need, then sell it at inflated prices on the black market. The rich will find ways to get their agents to take what they want, and the poor will get less than they need and go on dying in the streets."

"So what do you propose?" Hotohori snapped.

"A citizen registry based on their last census, whenever it was—"

"Just before the war," interjected Miboshi quietly. "Nakago wanted to know how many men he could conscript for the army."

"Fine, the census will be ten years out of date, but it's better than nothing. We can use trustworthy merchants to act as government agents, and update the information from surviving family members. We issue markers to family groups and allow them to redeem them for grain and produce—contingent on them exchanging it for labor in the Imperial farm fields or workshops, perhaps an hour per family per day."

Hotohori's eyes went wide with shock. "These people are weak with hunger, and you expect them to work?"

"Yes, I do." Nuriko's tone remained cool. "They might be miserably poor, but they're still human beings, once proud farmers and traders and merchants. If you expect to create a work and military force from their numbers, you have to give them back their dignity. Giving them free handouts will assuage their current hunger but will cause trouble in the long run, encouraging indolence and humiliating the industrious. If you require even a small token of labor from each family, you'll give them back their sense of worthiness. When they receive their food, they can say, 'We earned this by an honest day's work.'"

"But what of the orphans in the street? Should they starve because they have no family to pledge for them?"

"No, they will have to work as well."

"You're delusional! I won't let you push mere children into slavery for the sake of your organized labor plan!"

Nuriko lost his temper. "You're the one who's delusional! You think that all the problems of the world are solved by the condescending rich bestowing gifts on the poor! It never once occurred to you that even the poorest among us could take pride in their work." By this time he'd started shouting. "What of your seishi brothers? Do you think that the rich provided for our needs? Don't you think that Tasuki labored in the fields as a child? What of Tamahome? Could he have accepted free handouts all of his life without losing his fierce pride? What of me? Wasn't I taken into concubinage because my family connections weren't powerful enough to deny your soldiers when they ransacked the villages for girls?"

Silence fell throughout the room. Hotohori looked stunned, while Nuriko stood before her with fisted hands, panting with exertion and rage.

"Personally, I think that you both are correct." Both seishi startled at the mild voice, obviously forgetting Miboshi's presence in the room.

The Seiryuu seishi grinned at their discomfiture. "I agree with Lady Hotohori that all of the children must be fed as soon as possible, and I agree that field work is not the best option for their weakened condition. However, I also agree with Nuriko-sama that work can give them a sense of purpose, so I propose that all children be required to work at least one hour per day…by attending school. Classes will be held in small groups in the city streets, in the town squares, and in the fields. Children will be given a full bowl of food when they arrive, then be expected to remain for an hour afterward as they learn to read and write and compute. Once the hour is up, the next part of their wage will be paid—a small bag of grain to be taken home to their families. They will be wage-earners for whatever family they might have, they will get a minimum of one full meal a day, and they will be the most educated population we have ever had."

"That…that seems fair," Nuriko admitted grudgingly, trying not to show how impressed he was with Miboshi's plan.

Hotohori was less restrained. "It's a brilliant plan, Miboshi-sama! You have my sincerest admiration."

Miboshi bowed and smiled. "Thank you, my lady. Now may I suggest that we retire to chambers that my brethren have prepared for us? We have long hours of discussion ahead of us, and we should rest so that we're at our best tomorrow."

Hotohori bowed gratefully and prepared to follow Master Hotaka out of the room, but paused as she passed by Nuriko, who stood with eyes averted. She touched his sleeve gently.

"You've always had a keen grasp of the problems of governing, and I'd almost forgotten how much I'd come to depend on you, Nuriko. You have my sincerest admiration, and you always will. I'm sorry if my clumsiness in expressing myself ever led you to believe otherwise."

The warmth in her golden eyes shone out at him, and he stood transfixed in place long after she'd left the room. He couldn't help turning to Miboshi with a look of honest confusion.

"I thought that I was way out of line. I thought that she'd be furious with me!"

"And now you know that there's nothing a woman respects more than a man who stands up to her and treats her as an equal. Good night, Nuriko-sama. Sleep well."

Miboshi bowed once more and swept out of the room.

/-/-/-/

Tokyo

Yui drew back the curtain and stared past silvered beads of rain to the traffic rushing past thirty stories below. For a moment, she pictured herself surging through the window to magically take flight, spiraling gently down until she reached the street. Jumping inside one of the boxy yellow cabs, she would flee this insane existence of apocalyptic monsters and violent death. For just one moment, she imagined the tempting oblivion of ignorance, the bliss of being part of the defenseless masses instead of one of the chosen defenders.

A tinge of yearning entered her voice as she addressed the rivulets of water crisscrossing the thick glass. "Tell me what to do."

The figure standing behind her stiffened imperceptibly before forcing himself back into a casual slouch. "You know that I can't do that. I can't make this decision for you."

She turned abruptly to face him, her features twisted with desperation. "Won't you at least advise me? What would you do if you were me?"

"I'm not you, Yui. Anything I could tell you wouldn't necessarily—"

"Apply to my exact situation, yes, I've heard that a hundred times from you, Tetsuya!" Yui glared up at his inscrutable, shaded eyes. "I thought that maybe just this once…" She stopped, visibly gritting her teeth. "Never mind. I don't know what I was thinking to ask your opinion, when you've never before…Excuse me, I need to get some air."

She grabbed her coat, nearly running through the condo on her way to the elevator, ignoring Mitsukake's startled look and Touki's serene nod. Pushing through the chrome and glass lobby door, she gasped as the damp wind hit her in the face but kept moving swiftly down the street, ignoring the squeal of brakes behind her. She was already two blocks away from the apartment when she heard a breathless call.

"Yui! Slow down! Yui, wait, please!"

Part of her wanted to keep going, moving deeper into the night until she disappeared into the darkness, alone with her frustration and fear and a weary, bitter feeling that she recognized as grief.

"Yui, please!"

However, she wasn't a thoughtless fifteen-year-old anymore. She was old enough to realize that someone would end up paying for her self-indulgence; most likely, the someone who was currently chasing her down the street. He didn't deserve that. If she left him behind, he would be lost in a strange land, vulnerable to the real, present-day dangers of a modern city.

So she stopped and turned around, waiting for him to cautiously dash across the intersection. His grin of open joy as he joined her softened something in her heart—how long had it been since someone was so glad to see her?

"Thank you!" he gasped, his ponytail dripping and green eyes shining under the misted halo of the streetlamp. "I was afraid you hadn't heard me, and I…well, I'm not sure I remember the way back."

"How did you manage the elevator, Chiriko? I expect that would've been your first obstacle."

"Yes, it would've—but I've been practicing. I wanted to learn how to use the elevated-box, so I was practicing going up and down by pushing the buttons. I had just opened the doors when I saw you leave the palace."

Yui laughed in spite of herself. "It's not a palace, Chiriko; it's just a building where a lot of people live."

"But they all live in such luxury! Every person in that place has their own indoor toilet and instant hot water, right?" He gazed off into the rain. "We never had anything so useful, and my family had been fairly wealthy."

Yui stared at him, struck by their differing values. She'd never thought of herself as particularly wealthy, but compared to the primitive conditions in the ShiJin, she enjoyed everyday luxuries that even the Emperor of Kutou had never even dreamed of.

Chiriko intercepted her stare, and blushed. "I'm sorry for my inappropriate words, Yui. In this world, I'm stupid, and I talk about indelicate things—"

"No, you're not. You're neither stupid or indelicate. You're…" she paused, searching for the right word, "…you're charming—in this world or any other."

He blushed up to his hairline, but Yui didn't regret her words. He was charming, with his boyish enthusiasm and innocent honesty, not to mention his unselfconscious attractiveness.

"So where are we going?" Chiriko asked as he took her arm.

Yui started guiltily. "Aren't you going to drag me back to the condo?"

"Why would I do that? You seemed as if you intended to go somewhere, and I just hoped that you might allow me to accompany you."

"You make me sound decisive and in control." Yui's lips trembled. "The truth is that I had no idea where I was going; I just needed to…get away."

"Even better. Now we can do whatever we want, instead of having to go any place in particular. Is there anything you'd like—?"

She shook her head. "No! I don't know!"

"Then I'll make a choice. I'd really like a cup of tea, Yui. Are there any inns around here?"

"No inns, but I think I know a teashop that's open late." Feeling the tension unwind from her neck, Yui finally smiled. "You know, I think I like your choice. A cup of tea and some almond biscuits sound perfect right now."

Twenty minutes later, they were seated in a quiet corner of a small, traditional tea shop, its shoji screens, simple flower arrangements, and tatami mats pleasing to the eye and harmonious to the mind. A soft door chime quietly announced the comings and goings of the few customers who sought the shop's warm shelter on a rainy night. Over fragrant cups of jasmine tea, Chiriko spoke cheerfully of all the marvels he had seen since his arrival—the speeding cars, the flameless lights, the moving pictures on large flat screens—and Yui laughed at his wild guesses about the mechanics behind them.

She knew that he was deliberately coming up with outrageous theories just to entertain her, but it felt wonderful to giggle and joke and chatter like any other normal young woman. It was nice to pretend, at least for a while, that her cares and concerns were no different than those of the young couple who had just exited into the night.

But as her fourth serving of tea cooled in its tiny porcelain cup, she knew that it was time she stopped running. It was time to decide her fate alone.

At that moment, a hand reached across the table and warmly gripped hers. She cast her glance downward to hide the sudden tears, yet couldn't help clasping her own fingers tightly around his.

"I guess you know." Her voice was husky with emotion.

"Not everything. But you can tell me…if you wish."

"You remember what Touki-san said when we brought him back to the condo. He said that there were two ways to guard the book's portal against the nightmare beasts' attempts to come through. The first way he described to everyone in the room—"

"Yes, I remember. He could put enough ofuda and enchantments around the book to seal it completely shut. It would be strong enough to keep it sealed—as long as we never opened the book and as long as he kept casting enchantments."

"But the second method…he told it to me alone." Yui stared down into her cup as if she could read her fortune in the leaves. "He seems like a good man," she said at last. "I've always liked him and trusted his judgment."

"I like him, too. He reminds me of Chichiri in many ways…and not only because they're both monks. He has the same kind of calm honesty; you know that he's telling you the truth, no matter how hard it might be for you or him."

"Yes…no matter how much you wish he was lying. And gods, how I wish—!" She gave a small, bitter laugh. "There I go again, being selfish and cowardly and—"

"No, you're not! You're terrified, and that's something very different. But Yui, I can only help if you tell me straight out what he said—as simply and directly as you can."

"It's my life," Yui replied dully. "Touki told me that the only way to keep the book completely under our control and yet use it to our advantage is if I allow him to weave my ki—my life force—together with the book. We're already partially joined, because I'm the Priestess of Seiryuu as well as the original reader of the Suzaku-Seiryuu arc, but Touki would bind me to the book in a much more intricate way."

She lifted her eyes to Chiriko's, her own filled with a kind of sad hope. "We could read the book this way. We could see everything that's going on in the ShiJin and perhaps even into the stronghold of the Enemy itself. I could find Miaka again," she whispered.

"But there's a price, isn't there?"

"Yes. I'll be the sentinel at the gates. I'll be the first to know if the beasts are trying to break through…because I'll be the first one they see." She winced under Chiriko's suddenly painful grip. "No, I won't be unprotected. Touki believes that with the help of my Priestess' ki, he can control and hold off the beasts with his spells…he thinks he can, but he won't know until—"

"—the beasts try to come through," finished Chiriko grimly. "So if you agree, you'll be our test case, and if you refuse, we'll still be able to seal off the book by the first method…"

"But we'll be blind and unable to help any of our colleagues."

They sat together in silence, their fingers clasping convulsively around one another's. Finally Yui pulled back her hand.

"I know the right decision. I understand what I have to do. I…I guess I was just trying to put it off, and maybe I was grieving a little for what might—" She gasped out a sob. "I only wish that I was a seishi instead of a priestess. I wish that I had a little of your courage!"

"My courage?" Chiriko's eyes widened in surprise. "I think that you have the wrong seishi here. I was the smallest and weakest of the Suzaku, remember? All of my memories of that time were of being scared in one way or another. If I wasn't terrified for my life, I was scared of not fitting in with the rest."

Yui's tone was hesitant. "But you weren't scared last night in the library, when you deliberately drew off that beast so that Mitsukake could kill it."

He laughed. "That's true, 'scared' wasn't the word—I was flat out heart-stoppingingly terrified! Did you see how fast I ran? I think I could've outrun the best horse in Hotohori's Imperial stable!"

Yui couldn't help smiling. "I don't believe it. You seemed so in control, part of the plan."

"I was part of the plan. But do you know what the scariest part was?" His voice softened. "Those few moments when I felt like I was all alone out there. Logically, I knew that Mitsukake was waiting to defend me, but in those first moments, it was just me and the beast. Alone."

Chiriko met Yui's eyes straight on. "It was terrifying, yet at the same time, I felt a strong undercurrent of sadness. Loneliness more than anything, I guess. But then Mitsuskake stepped out and whoosh! Just like that, I was safe. And I realized that I shouldn't have doubted him.

"You're not alone, either, Yui." He reached across the table and claimed her other hand, so that he now held both in his strong, warm grip. "It's not like the last time, when Nakago kept you isolated. You have Keisuke and Tetsuya, and Touki and Mitsukake, and…me. And I promise you, on my honor as a Suzaku seishi, that I will not abandon you or leave you alone. Not even at our darkest hour."

Unable to speak because of the lump in her throat, she sent him a trembling, grateful smile. It didn't make sense that his words had touched her so deeply. If their darkest hour came to pass, they were all as good as dead. Dead was dead, whether you had people with you or whether you were all alone.

Yet for some reason, she was suddenly filled with hope.

/-/-/-/

Less than an hour later, they were all gathered together in the kitchen of the condo, which Mitsukake had dubbed "The War Room." Yui looked around at each of their faces flickering in the candlelight: Mitsukake serious and focused; Keisuke uncharacteristically subdued, his red-rimmed eyes attesting to his worry over his sister and grief over the loss of his brother-in-law; Tetsuya withdrawn and enigmatic behind his shades; and Chiriko, calmly resolute, returning her look with a subtle smile of reassurance.

Swirls of incense twisted their way sinuously to the ceiling, as Touki, clad in his Shinto robes, softly chanted prayers and occasionally tapped a small, shimmering gong in accompaniment. Yui stood facing him, clad in the traditional white kimono and red hakama of a Japanese miko, her hands folded against each other inside the voluminous white sleeves.

She tried not to twitch nervously as incongruous thoughts kept racing through her agitated mind. Who would ever have thought that Tetsuya's sleekly modern, computerized kitchen could be so quickly converted to a credible facsimile of a Shinto shrine? Her glance took in the man in the center of the tableau: Touki, with his shaven head and dark, winglike eyebrows sweeping up towards his scalp, had somehow shed his everyday familiarity and now appeared like a figure out of myth: powerful, mystical, and wise.

In that moment, she almost thought that she could envision another mythical figure standing beside him. The smoke from the incense seemed to twist strangely, forming the outline of a schoolgirl trailing long braids and an old fashioned knee-length skirt: Oosugi Suzuno, the Priestess of Byakko. Yui blinked, and the figure vanished within the halo of candlelight—just an illusion in her mind, yet Yui could almost feel thin, shining threads running from herself, Priestess of Seiryuu and Genbu, to Touki, spiritual heir of the Priestess of Byakko. Beside her stood the warriors of Suzaku, ready to stand in her defense.

There were threads binding them together, Yui realized—they, the representatives of the Four Gods on this planet. She could almost see the threads intertwined between them, spinning forth in a silver line to connect to the book that lay beneath intricately-inscribed ofuda.

Touki's words increased in intensity, and suddenly Yui felt something pull in her chest. She nearly panicked but met Chiriko's eyes. You mustn't fight it. You must give in to it and allow yourself to be joined. She drew a deep breath and forced herself to relax, uncurling her fists inside her sleeves.

Another pull, as if a line were being attached to her torso.

Accept it. Give in to it.

Finally, one more pull, and it was done. She felt herself woven through with fine lines of incredible strength, invisible threads running through her body and binding her tightly to some object she couldn't see. She pushed down the rising feeling of entrapment, forcing herself to take deep, even breaths.

I accept this. I will be one with this.

Her gaze was drawn to the book where it lay on the countertop, and to her eyes it seemed almost if it pulsed in time with her heart. As if it had control of her.

But if it had control of her, she had equal control of it.

You're mine, she thought, and a wave of triumph rushed through her. With that came an accompanying wave of warmth, and she felt as if she were swept up in a vast ocean, a universe spread out beneath her wondering gaze.

"Yui?"

"She's held in the grasp of the gods now. Be patient; she'll return."

She could hear their voices, clear though distant, but she was too entranced to respond, caught up in the universe through which she swam, gliding as swift and effortlessly as a bird through air. Mountains capped with snow passed beneath her fingertips, while vast deserts spread their golden sands like shining skirts. A moving cloud of dust marked the path of a herd of wild ponies, while vast fins broke the surface of sun-dappled seas.

She reached down with her mind, seeking beings like herself, and heard the busy murmurs of a million humans as they loved, fought, wept, and died. She felt the marvel of a new mother as she gazed upon her firstborn, then shrank away as she touched the cold, murderous thoughts of a slaver.

That coldness seemed to swirl up from behind him, snaking between some minds while enveloping others. She grew aware of the wrongness of these thoughts, the alien darkness more opaque than those of the coldest human killer. They emanated not from the universe below her but from the darkness beyond, and she watched with helpless dread as it sent tiny tendrils of evil to take root across her entire land.

Suddenly the darkness reared up, forming into a twisting, amorphous shape with faceted eyes and row upon row of jagged metal teeth. It coalesced into a snakelike form, turning its glittering, inhuman gaze to her and lunging forward.

She fell back, screaming—and felt her face taken in a firm grasp at temples and chin. "Kaerinasai! Open your eyes, Yui!"

She grabbed at Touki's robes, her eyes filling with tears of horror. "It's coming! It's coming!"

They all turned to look at the book, and saw the ofuda seals slowly darkening, curling at the edges as if they were burning. A tiny wisp of black mist began twisting up from the closed pages of the book.

Touki pulled Yui to her feet. "Yui, I need you to open your spirit to me. You're joined with the book, so the only way for me to close the portal is with your help!"

"I c-can't!" she whimpered, her teeth chattering as she tried to pull away from him. "I can't! We have to g-get away!"

"It's too late, Yui! We can't run fast or far enough! We either close the portal now, or—"

"Let me go!" she wailed, terror blinding her to all reason. Suddenly she stumbled back, Touki's grip broken. She looked up to see Chiriko standing between them.

"Gomen nasai, Touki-sama, but we're losing time! Cast more ofuda on the book to slow them down. Mitsukake, get your broadsword now. Keisuke, Tetsuya, get her out of here, and run. Keep running and don't look back; we'll hold them off as long as we can!"

Tetsuya was already dragging her toward the elevator as Keisuke threw a coat across her shoulders. She looked back to see Touki rapidly casting the ofuda at the book, trying desperately to keep pace as they shriveled and blackened on contact with the book. Mitsukake watched the growing mist with an expression of calm absorption, his broadsword angled for a killing stroke. Only Chiriko looked up at her as she left, smiling reassuringly when he caught her eye.

They were going to die.

They were going to die trying to protect her, but in the end it would be pointless, because she was the one the beasts wanted most. She and Miaka. And Miaka's warriors and Suzuno's grandson would die defending her, because she didn't have the courage to stand with them and fight.

Enough of this.

She broke out of Tetsuya's grasp and ran back to the others. "Touki-san! Touki-san, I'm ready now! I'm here!"

Touki didn't waste a moment, pulling Yui before him as they both faced the book, and placing her arms along his arms so that her hands rested on top of his. "Follow the motions of my hands, Yui. Follow them and open your mind to me!"

Yui tried to concentrate on Touki's gestures and muttered prayers but found her mind hopelessly ensnared with panic and desperation.

"You must release control, Yui! Open yourself, and we'll do this together."

She tried to relax but found herself watching the tendrils of black mist with fascinated horror. It was almost hypnotic, the way the tendrils pulsated and twisted, advancing a little more with each passing second. Beneath that mist lay the book, the universe that had just bound itself to her. She felt the stark beauty and warm vulnerability of her adopted land resting inside her heart. But the darkness wanted more than just the ShiJin.

It wanted her world, as well.

"Abomination!" She didn't realize the curse had burst from her lips. "Bastard desecrator of a thousand worlds!" Her hands lifted off Touki's, and began drawing mystical patterns of their own. "You can't have it!" She walked toward the rising darkness, her hands moving before her. "Get out of my world! GET OUT!"

A fountain of light erupted from her hands, engulfing the book in a spectral conflagration. The entire area seemed to explode with color and light, while a high, keening scream whistled through the air. It increased in volume to an otherwordly shriek—then abruptly disappeared. The ball of light flashed blindingly bright before vanishing abruptly in its turn.

Blinking away the spots before their eyes, the stunned witnesses stared at the book lying quiet and intact upon the countertop. All eyes then turned to Yui, who stood steadily in place, her eyes wide but focused.

Touki cleared his throat. "Would anyone find it overly self-conscious if I said that I felt a bit superfluous just now?"

That broke the spell, and they laughed with the hysterical giddiness of people who had just escaped certain death. Keisuke, still slightly pale with shock, put the kettle on with shaking hands, while Mitsukake placed the broadsword in a convenient corner. Chiriko strolled casually over to Yui and flicked an imaginary piece of dust from her shoulder.

"So that's what mikos do," he said and gave her a wink. She grasped his hands and laughed until she cried, her joy and relief spreading to almost everyone in the room. The kitchen grew loud as everyone started talking at once, trying to analyze exactly what had happened and the meaning of Yui's strange words.

No one noticed when Tetsuya quietly left the room

/-/-/-/

Hokkan – Southwest border

Two figures on horseback trotted through narrow, winding canyons between sheer cliff walls. They stopped intermittently, the silver-haired horseman using a wax crayon to mark lines on crumpled sheets of vellum, while the other looked around for landmarks…or witnesses. Every so often, their voices would rise in an argument as they indicated the few distinguishing features in their narrow landscape, but then drop as they nervously paused and listened for hoofbeats.

The first man finally tucked the paper away in his jacket, then wiped trickles of sweat from his face with a cloth, carefully lifting his eyepatch to reach the dampness beneath.

The other man scowled at him. "You don't have to wear that stupid thing right now. I'm the only one here."

Hikitsu scowled right back. "You don't have to wear that stupid hat, either. It's hotter than midsummer in these damn canyons. If I didn't know better, I'd say we were in Konan instead of Hokkan."

Tomite clutched protectively at the fur hat perched on his dark, damp hair. "Leave my hat out of this. I can take the heat." He swiped his sleeve across the rivulets running down his face.

Hikitsu snorted, then spurred his mount ahead, leaving intermittent grumbles such as "…pigheaded…slug-brained…" in his wake.

"How long do we have to keep doing this?" Tomite shouted after him.

"Until we have a clear idea of the best way through the canyon maze. I don't like being stuck in a place I can't get out of."

Suddenly a wave of dizziness swept over Tomite, and he clutched at his mount's mane to keep from falling. He reined in and, abandoning his pride, removed his hat. That action relieved some of his heat-induced nausea, but the air was still heavy and thick in his lungs. The world shifted sideways, and he would have plunged out of the saddle except for a steadying hand.

"Get down!" the voice said harshly. "Get down before I knock you down, you ass!"

Tomite slid out of his saddle and felt himself pushed into a seated position against one of the canyon walls. His head was pushed down until it was rested on his drawn-up knees, and a stream of cool water suddenly splashed over the back of his neck. He shuddered and gasped at the shock, but his nausea instantly faded away.

Hikitsu dropped down beside him and thrust the waterskin in his face. "Drink."

He drank gratefully, feeling as if every part of him was absorbing the fresh, cool water and uncurling from the parched misery of this day. Taking care to leave enough for his partner, he handed the skin back to Hikitsu. "Thanks. I don't know what I would've done without—"

"Probably died of self-induced heat stroke," snapped Hikitsu, before taking a long drink from the skin and pushing it back at Tomite.

They sat in silence for a moment—an edgy, uncomfortable silence.

"Why do you have to be such an ass?" Hikitsu finally burst out.

"I was about to ask you the same thing!"

"I'm not the one who's too stubborn to use common sense! Why don't you ever listen to me? I told you that the canyons were hot!"

"Why don't you ever listen to me? I told you that it was a bad idea to come here!"

"Why should I listen to you?"

"I'm the elder this time!"

"Well, I'm better-looking!"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing!"

They glared at one another for a moment—then reluctantly grinned.

"You really are an ass, you know that?" Hikitsu needled again.

"Takes one to know one."

"Oh, that's really original. Would you mind if I wrote that down and used it sometime?"

"Go right ahead. I'm happy to loan you some of my conversational skills. Might make you want to, I dunno, actually talk to me sometime."

Another uncomfortable silence.

"I talk to you all the time."

Tomite picked up a pebble and threw it against the opposite wall. "Yeah, in a total of two different ways: terse or surly."

"You're not so forthcoming yourself."

"Not anymore. After the first two weeks of talking to you and getting only grunts as replies, I quit trying to rope that particular pony. No point, since you're obviously pissed at me or the universe or both."

Hikitsu shot a glance at his companion. Tomite's normally cheerful countenance was drawn and weary, his brown eyes looking resigned instead of hopeful…and as much as Hikitsu would've liked to have blamed it on the heat, he knew that he held most of the responsibility.

Little brother, what have I done?

He almost said the words aloud, but a familiar image rose before his eyes, an image that haunted him night and day.

Blood on the snow. He was running, running, all the while knowing that he was too late, because the blood kept spreading and Tomite wasn't moving, and the world crashed down into those colors of red and white and black.

He couldn't bear it again. He knew that he must not have survived much longer, for he had hardly any memories after that moment, but he would never forget that raging despair, that helpless grief, that agonizing sense of failure.

Of what came after, he had no real knowledge until he awoke reincarnated in the body of a young boy. All he had were those searing memories, too dark and bitter and adult for him to handle, and the sudden appearance of joyful brown eyes, an equally small hand grasping his and crying out, "Hikitsu!"

He'd jerked his hand back as if burned. Not again, he thought. I won't go through that again. So he'd pushed Tomite away and insisted on being called by his given name instead of his seishi name. He'd pretended not to remember, because he didn't want to remember.

What irony that Taiitsukun had forced their memories out into the open. Their only means of defense, true, but also the burden of a past he never wanted. But he sensed that there was something else, something he wasn't allowed to remember. At times he felt disturbing chills along his neck, leaving him with an inexplicable distaste of enclosed spaces, cold tombs with walls of ice that held you bound as both prisoner and guard, eternally trapped, eternally waiting…

He blinked and shuddered, suddenly grateful for the heat reflected off the limestone cliffs.

"You all right?"

The waterskin was thrust before him, and he took it gratefully, using the act of drinking to pull himself together. By the time he handed it back to Tomite, he was able to look his fellow seishi in the eye.

No, he still wasn't going to let himself get close to anyone, especially now that they'd found themselves in the middle of an even deadlier war—but it didn't have to be an all-or-nothing situation. They could be friendly acquaintances. It would make Tomite happier, which would make his own life easier in the long run.

Hikitsu reached up and pulled off his eyepatch. "You're right, Tomite. I've been acting like an ass. But it's not you I'm pissed at; it's the universe. Or at least our portion of it."

Tomite stared slack-jawed, obviously stunned at the uncharacteristic honesty—and comparative flood of words—coming from Hikitsu. But he recovered quickly. "Ummm…you gonna expand on that at all?"

"Yeah. It's the pointlessness of our mission."

"Saving the world from ultimate destruction is pointless?"

"Not if you're actually doing that. But I get the feeling…listen, do you remember the strange way the Emperor behaved when we arrived at the Palace?"

"We talked about this before. A little, anyway. He wasn't very welcoming, but I get the impression that emperors don't usually hang out with commoners."

"We're not just anybody, Tomite! Dammit, think!" Hikitsu reined in his temper, realizing that he was falling into their usual pattern of communication. "Sorry. What I'm trying to say is that whether or not the Emperor cares to socialize with commoners, he's supposed to put the welfare of his country as the highest priority; if for nothing else, to protect his own exalted position. So here we are, two Genbu seishi arriving after many weeks of travel just to tell him that there's a mysterious Enemy threatening his land, and the same seishi offering to train an army to defend it. So what does he do with us?"

"Makes us waste time around the palace attending stupid meetings where the same assholes ask the same asshole questions over and over again!" Tomite snarled, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Then he sends us out to work with second level scrub soldiers instead of the crack Imperial troops—and just when we start making progress, he ships us off to the southern edge of nowhere to supposedly train an army here for some idiot noble crony of his."

"But they never do let us train an army, do they? No, we're stuck running the same military parade exercises over and over again, as if the ability to march in straight ranks is going to help them defeat those bastard creatures! And no one wants to talk strategy, and no one wants to tell us the latest developments, and all we get is a set of rules of who not to ask and where not to go, like this canyon. So I'm getting the feeling that instead of wanting to use our abilities—"

"They just want to keep us out of the way!" Tomite burst out, his face now red with anger as well as heat.

"Which falls in line with the warning Taiitsukun gave us before we left on this mission. She said that not even the monks of Genbu could get a satisfactory response from the Emperor, and now we know first-hand what they were complaining about."

"So what should we do?"

Hikitsu sighed, pulling his eyepatch back on. "We have to come up with our own plan, since Taiitsukun can't help us now. That's why I want to map out Lord Shijo's canyon maze. If he turns against us, I want to know a way out of here." He shuddered again. "Though I hate this place. I don't know why, but enclosed places really get to me."

Tomite stared at him in surprise, "You too? I thought that it was just a weird quirk of mine." He squinted up at the heat shimmering off the white stone walls. "Usually I get chills as well, but this place is so hot, that particular part isn't bothering me."

"You're joking! I have the same—" A giant black shadow suddenly raced across the cliff face, and a dark shape briefly blotted out the sunlight before disappearing over the rim of the near cliff.

"What the hell was that?" Hikitsu cried.

"It was one of the Enemy—I'll never forget that carrion stink!" Tomite grabbed his hat and jumped onto his horse. "Come on, Hikitsu, it must be attacking Shijo Castle! From this direction, it can approach from the rear of the stronghold."

They wheeled the horses around but had to hold to a trot in order to accurately follow Hikitsu's map out of the twists and turns of the maze. When they finally burst out into the open grounds of the castle, they braced themselves for the screams and carnage awaiting them.

Everything was still and quiet. Tomite spurred his horse towards the guard at the nearest gate and dismounted.

"Is the castle under attack? Have there been any calls for help?"

The guard spat in a surly way. "D'ye think I'd be standin' here quiet-like if there were? What bug's crawled up your ass today?"

In one swift motion, Tomite struck the guard across the mouth, then nocked an arrow to his bow before the man got back to his feet. "I'm a Genbu no Seishi, you ignorant clod, and you'll address me with respect! Unless you'd like your ears pinned to your head with an arrow!"

The guard took his hand away from his sword hilt and wiped a sleeve across his bloody mouth. "I'll report this ta th' captain. Lord Shijo'll bring ya ta heel!"

"We answer to no one but Genbu himself. You may report that to your captain as well." Hikitsu removed his eyepatch, so that his seishi sign glowed green within his glittering right eye. The guard backed away, frightened.

The seishi turned their horses and trotted around the castle perimeter to the gardens at the back. There was no sign of a disturbance at all.

Tomite chewed his lip thoughtfully. "We didn't just imagine that creature; I mean, I could smell it and everything. But it doesn't seem to have attacked anything here. Do you think that it went in a different direction from what we thought?"

Hikitsu narrowed his eyes. "I doubt that. But I know what we have to do.

"We have to find out what's really going on at Shijo Castle."

/-/-/-/

Southern Hokkan

The irresistible smell of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen yard, making Miaka's mouth water. She crept towards the outdoor brick oven with a thick cloth in hand, hoping to crack open the door and sneak a hot roll before the others came down to breakfast. After all, Inami was unlikely to miss just one from the vast quantities of breads and pastries she had shoved into both the indoor and outdoor ovens, and Miaka was too hungry to wait for the men to come straggling in.

"Bella ragazza!"

Miaka jumped guiltily. How did Inami know she was out here? The woman had eyes in the back of her head! She braced herself for a blistering scold.

"Come here, ragazzina, and take these baskets. I need you to fetch in the rolls, subito!"

Thank Suzaku! Miaka ran to do as told and soon returned to the kitchen balancing a huge cylindrical basket piled high with fragrant bread, the remnants of one hastily filched roll still clenched between her teeth. Inami pushed a damp strand of hair back under her kerchief as she expertly poured pots of hot milk and steaming tea into heavy ceramic pitchers. Without looking up, she signaled Miaka to carry the bread straight through to the dining room.

All forward vision cut off by her burden, Miaka carefully maneuvered her way through the swinging doors—then ran smack into a solid obstacle.

"Gmph!" she choked, feeling the basket teeter dangerously to one side. She tried to tilt it the other way to compensate, but an over-helpful hand struck the same side of the basket so that the rolls shot out across the dining table. She lunged for them, but she and her would-be helper collided, sending her sprawling across the table with him on top of her—just as Tasuki, Namame, and Uruki entered the dining room for breakfast.

"Mmph!" protested Miaka, and the weight rolled off her instantly.

"Sorry, Miaka!" cried Hatsui, "and Tasuki and…everybody! It was an accident, honest! I heard the kitchen door open and I turned like this, and—"

Demonstrating his previous move, Hatsui pivoted and tripped on a roll at the same moment that Inami came through the door carrying a tray of cakes. He fell against her and sent the cakes flying, then pushed off to regain his balance only to realize that he was holding onto her breasts.

"Ma è pazzo!" demanded Inami, incensed. "Are you insane, to fondle the cook's breasts before breakfast? You will ruin all the food!"

"No, I'm not insane! I mean, I'm so sorry! It was an accident! I didn't mean to fondle your breasts—not that they're not very fine breasts, Inami-sama; they're very nice indeed, but see, I'm no longer touching them because I know they belong to Namame-san, as do Uruki-san's, which I've never actually touched and don't plan to, although they're very pretty as well, at least as far as I can tell—"

"Thank you," said Uruki serenely when Hatsui stopped to draw breath, "although I had previously imagined that my breasts belonged to me, but it's always good to get new information."

"I didn't mean it that way!" stammered Hatsui. "Of course your breasts are yours! I just meant that Namame might take offense to other men handling them, just as Tasuki probably took offense to me being on top of Miaka, although," he started backpedaling at the dark look that crossed Tasuki's face, "I'm not saying that he lays claim to Miaka's body, just that it's his job to protect it, her being his priestess and all, eheheh."

Desperate to escape, Hatsui began backing out of the room. "You have to understand, this is all a terrible accident; I would never think to do anything so rude to such fine ladies; for one thing, because it's not like me to go around grabbing females—" He bumped against Urumiya, who was just entering the room yawning, and gratefully threw his arms around his partner for support. "You can ask Urumiya; I spend more time hanging onto him than any girl, ha, ha!"

"What the hell?" exploded the unfortunate seishi. "Get off me, you ass!"

"Now I understand!" cried Inami, delighted. "He speaks il linguaggio dell'amore, the language of love! Felicitazione!"

She ran up and kissed Hatsui and Urumiya on both cheeks.

"As soon as she lets go of me," growled Urumiya from within her embrace, "You. Are. DEAD!"

True to his word, he leapt on Hatsui the moment Inami released him, and began pummeling his partner as they rolled across the floor.

Inami was shocked. "Che inciviltà! They are young, true, but they should wait to celebrate in their own room!"

"Enough!" roared Namame and separated the battling seishi, throwing them towards opposite corners. "Cannae a man have a moment's peace at his own breakfast table wi'oot a pair o' dafties havin' a barnie 'round th' place? Sit down! Shut it! Eat!"

The younger seishi nearly leapt for their seats in fear of Namame's rage, while Miaka needed no second invitation. She enthusiastically crammed one light and flaky pastry in her mouth while grabbing a second. Tasuki almost lost one of his fingers when he mistakenly reached for another that was near her butter knife.

Inami set pots of fruit conserves and jars of honey on the table, while Uruki brought in the pitchers of milk and tea. After a cautious glance in Namame's direction, Urumiya began eating with enjoyment, but Hatsui, still flushed with embarrassment, just stared miserably at his plate.

"Che cosa c'è?" inquired Inami. "Ometto, eat! It's true that there is little for breakfast, only bread and tea, but I will make you an egg if you want one."

Hatsui stared at the table nearly sagging under the multitudes of rolls, pastries, and jams. "No, thank you, Inami-sama. There's more than enough food; I just don't have much appetite."

After exchanging a look with Inami, Uruki picked up the pitcher of tea and filled Hatsui's cup. "Don't be upset," she murmured softly in his ear. "Everyone knows you meant no harm, and no one is angry. And don't mind Namame; he's grumpier than a bear until his first cup of tea. Now eat, or you will end up irritating someone—Inami."

One bite of Inami's heavenly pastries, combined with Uruki's encouragement, almost immediately restored Hatsui's normal appetite. Taking a seat beside him, Uruki began to flirt outrageously, which brought the smile back to Hatsui's face—once he checked to make sure that Namame didn't mind. Urumiya even relented after a few minutes, ruffling Hatsui's hair to show that he was forgiven, and soon cheerful conversation filled the room as it had the previous day.

Miaka was thoroughly enjoying herself, mock-arguing with Tasuki as he playfully kept her favorite conserve—Inami's speciality of mixed fruits cooked with ginger—out of her reach by switching it rapidly from hand-to-hand.

"Got it!" she crowed joyfully as her spoon finally dipped into the jar…and only then did she realize that Tasuki had dropped the jar and was already at the front door with his sword drawn. Uruki joined him almost immediately, finally drawing the attention of the others. The room fell silent, and the muffled thumps that Tasuki had heard were now audible to everyone. Standing to either side of the door, Tasuki and Uruki pulled it open—and a body fell heavily into the room.

"Daichi!" exclaimed Namame, rushing to his friend's side. "There's a crossbow bolt in his back!"

"Leave off, it's not that bad," Daichi grumbled but yielded to Inami's fierce glare as she cut away his shirt and turned him on his stomach to examine the wound. She carefully felt around the bolt, then called Miaka to run and fetch hot water and a clean cloth. Hatsui and Urumiya ran out to join Tasuki and Uruki in searching the immediate area.

"You are right; it is not deadly. It struck the shoulder blade instead of your heart, fortunatamente, but we must remove the bolt before the wound becomes filled with evil humours." Inami worked quickly and efficiently, so that Miaka didn't even have a chance to avert her eyes before she pulled out the bolt with a shout of triumph, matched by a shout of pain from Daichi.

"Damn you, woman, this is your revenge for the afternoons I spent playing go with Kigan!"

"Che infantile!" smirked Inami as she cleaned the wound and bandaged it tightly with strips of clean cloth. "You think this is vendetta? Pah! If this was vendetta, you would now have that bolt in culo!"

Miaka noted that even as Inami scolded, she subtly checked Daichi's pulse and respirations. Satisfied, she signaled him to get up.

Namame, his features drawn with worry, helped him to a chair. "How did you let someone sneak up behind you, you clumsy old goat?"

"Clumsy old goat? I'll have you know that it took extraordinary skill to get away from those pieces o' boggin' shite, especially my new skill of playing dead! And stop lookin' like last week's porridge, Kigan; one would think that you'd never seen a man shot before."

"Shut it, you barmy erse," retorted Namame affectionately. "I was just frightened that you'd ruin my floor by bleedin' out, and then Inami would make me varnish it again. Now are ye goin' ta answer me or no?"

Daichi looked anxiously towards the door. "I'll tell you all I know, but first get those youngsters back in here before they waste any more time looking for my attackers. I'm not fool enough to let those motherless bastards follow me here…although I'm certain they'll show their ugly faces soon enough."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Emperor's soldiers. An entire regiment of Imperial troops, asking about you three—and if anyone's seen a young girl with you."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Glossary of Terms:

Kaerinasai! (Japanese) – Return! (imperative)

Gomen nasai (Japanese) - I'm sorry! (Very polite form)

Bella ragazza (Italian) – Pretty girl (Inami's nickname for Miaka)

ragazzina (Italian) – little girl

subito (Italian) – quickly

Ma è pazzo! (Italian) – What are you, crazy?

il linguaggio dell'amore (Italian) - the language of love

Felicitazione! (Italian) – Congratulations!

Che inciviltà! (Italian) – How rude!

Cannae (Scottish) – Cannot

dafties (Scottish) – idiots

barnie (Scottish) - fight

Che cosa c'è? (Italian) – What's the matter?

ometto (Italian) – little boy

fortunatamente (Italian) - luckily

Che infantile! (Italian) – How childish!

vendetta (Italian) - vengeance

in culo! (Italian) – up the ass!

/-/-/-/

Author's Notes: (4-18-06) Hey, everybody! Long time, no see. :P

First of all, let me award each and every one of you readers with a gold star for making it to the end of this mega-chapter. Thirteen thousand-plus words, damn! You masochists, you! 'Course, that makes me a sadist, right?

Well, you can look at the excessive chapter length a couple of ways. One way is that this is really four chapters in one, so I haven't really been as bad about updating HP as I thought. I mean, 4 chapters in 7 months; not so bad, eh? (ducks rotten fruit) Okay, you're not buying into that one, I guess.

The truth is that I don't know any other way to show the myriad events that are happening simultaneously in two worlds and four countries (five, if you count Japan) other than to put them in the same chapter. I can only hope that the juxtaposition of events is being conveyed by this format. Regardless, I really appreciate your patience in having No HP for months, then a dang encyclopedia's worth thrown at your head in one day.

Speaking of appreciation, today is Tasuki Appreciation Day, also known as the Bandit's Birthday! So I had to include a scene with him in it; thus, the silly scene at the end (with ominous cliffie attached, of course!)

/-/-/

Tasuki snorts. "Oh, a scene in honor of my birthday. Gee, thanks, Roku…but did you happen to notice how many lines of dialogue I had?"

Roku squirms. "Errrrrrrr…eheheh."

"'Eheheh' is right, Oh Supposedly Devoted Fangirl. You gave me zero lines—zero, count 'em! Some birthday acknowledgment, turning me mute!"

Roku looks away shiftily, murmuring under her breath. "You have no idea of how close to the mark you are…" She shifts to audible mode. "Think of it this way, baby. On your birthday in 2003, you complained that I celebrated your special day by blasting Tama, one of your best friends, into itty-bitty pieces. Then you bitched in 2004 that I acknowledged your birthday in HP by giving you a nasty case of food poisoning. Last year's birthday, you crabbed about me having Miaka castrate you with a sword in the akugi. Really, Tasuki, don't you think that silence is an improvement? But if not, I'm sure that I can come up with some other way to celebrate—"

"No! Forget I ever complained, Roku! Being mute is fine!"

/-/-/

However, I can't leave the "appreciation thread" without acknowledging the tremendous effort by this chapter's sole beta reader, Purple Mouse. Ryuen was kidnapped by her own original novel, so Mouse-chan was stuck with dealing with me alone.

And you know how dangerous that can be…

/-/-/

Original line from HP 15 - In one swift motion, Tomite struck the guard across the mouth, then nocked an arrow to his bow before the man got back to his feet. "I'm a Genbu no Seishi, you ignorant clod, and you'll address me with respect! Unless you'd like your ears pinned to your head—with an arrow!"

Purple Mouse beta commentary – That dash at the end makes Tomite sound a little B-movie-ish, Roku. You might as well write, " Unless you'd like your ears pinned to your head—With! An! ARROOOOW!"

Roku – B-movie-ish, eh? All right then.

Newly edited scene from HP 15 –

(Theme from Batman starts playing)

Tomite and Hikitsu spurred their horses towards the guard at the nearest gate, and dismounted. "Is the castle under attack? Have there been any calls for help?"

The guard spat in a surly way. "D'ye think I'd be standin' here quiet-like if there were? And why would I tell anythin' to a coupla costumed freaks like you!"

In one swift motion, Tomite struck the guard across the mouth (KA-POW!), then nocked an arrow to his bow (ZZZAP!) before the man got back to his feet. "I'm a Genbu no Seishi, you ignorant clod, and you'll address me with respect! Unless you'd like your ears pinned to your head—With! An! ARROOOOW!"

The guard fell to his knees, screaming. "No, not that! Anything except the All-Caps Italics! No, pleeeeease!"

Tomite put his bow aside with satisfaction. "Another miscreant vanquished, and Gotham is safe for another day! But…" he plucks at his spandex Speedos over spandex tights, "where did we get these weird tight clothes?"

Hikitsu tosses his batcape over one shoulder. "What does it matter? The only thing that matters is that—I. Am. Batman!"

Tomite throws his bow down in disgust. "Holy Fuckover! Why don't I get to be Batman? I'm the elder this time!"

"But I'm better-looking."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I have the larger codpiece!"

"Oh. Okay then." Tomite is downcast. "Nertz!"

Hikitsu walks up and takes his hand. "Don't be distressed, Genbu no Robin. You can be my ward, and I'll show you the Batcave."

:P :P :P

Okay, enough fooling around. I'd better hurry up and post this, so that I can get started on writing HP 16 – the Action Chapter.

:P

Oh, a quick P.S. For anyone who has any questions about the fics or anything else (like why the Genbu seishi don't remember their time in the Batcave—uh, I mean ice cave), you can ask away on my lj – link is listed under homepage on my author profile.

Till next time!

Ja ne!

Roku