Four. Of the seven Constellations of Suzaku, there were only four available to find Miaka, and considering that he was one of their number, Hotohori did not find that entirely comforting. After all, Chiriko was barely more than a child, and despite the monk's obvious skills, he couldn't help but be slightly unnerved by Chichiri. There was something about having seen a distortion of your own person in someone else's body that was bound to make you uneasy. The insulting tendency towards uglification, for a start.
He hated to admit it, but Tamahome had been the one he had truly been able to rely upon. The one he had been able to trust. Had been. Past tense. Now… No, he must not get into that train of thought again; he felt as if there were skewers behind his eyes already. He was sure there were some sorts of lights dancing just a few feet beyond him. And why did Nuriko keep looking at him like that? Anyone would think he was the one who needed protecting.
"This situation is distressing to say the least." He knew he was pacing but he couldn't help it. "I must know where Miaka is. And I must be informed immediately she is found." Why weren't they answering him? "Nuriko? Chichiri?"
"The palace precinct has already been searched. No da."
"And Miaka was kind of upset. Perhaps she just wanted…"
Despite his headache, Hotohori could still produce an icy stare.
"Gone. We're outta here." Chichiri grabbed Chiriko's hand before the boy had a chance to speak. The screen slid shut behind them. Hotohori looked up. Oh no. Please let him not be left in the room with Nuriko.
"Your Majesty…" The warrior was at his shoulder.
"Nuriko, I suggest very strongly that you listen to your Emperor's words."
"I just want to help. Your Majesty looks so…"
"What?!"
"Beautiful?" Nuriko suggested.
"Nuriko." Hotohori let out a sigh. "Your flattery, despite its truth, is inappropriate. Say what you have to say and be quick."
"Your-Majesty-looks-pale-and-unwell-and –I-think-you-ought-to-rest-and-let-us-deal-with-Miaka-this-time."
"No." The decorated panels swam around for a few minutes and then returned to their places. "I have said before, there is no need to be concerned about me. Miaka is my responsibility now. I will protect her."
"Your Majesty… Hotohori…" Surely Nuriko was not about to touch the Imperial cheek? Such an act was inconceivable.
"Don't," he flinched, "touch me." Great; now the hermaphrodite was crying. "I appreciate your concern, but my only wish at present is to see Miaka safe and well." As well as can be, he thought. As for what came next, he had no idea. If only he could make all this better for her. Why did she have to go and run from him?
"Nuriko." He chose his tone carefully. "Can you… can you think of anything we may have done or said to offend Miaka?"
"I don't think it's about you, Your Majesty." Nuriko's eyes were shining with tears. "Nothing Your Majesty said or did could ever offend."
Perhaps.