Had he been sleeping? He wasn't sure, but for some reason his eyes were closed. With a feeling of trepidation, Hotohori opened them and looked around. Thank Suzaku. No more skewers or dancing lights. It seemed that Chiriko had kept his word. Only Chiriko was no longer there. There was no one in the corridor but him. Hotohori sighed. So this was it, then. The other warriors had taken over, and the only honourable thing left to do was to retire for the night and trust them to accomplish their task. Let them bring back Miaka and heal her. Let him take the position he always took. Waiting. Detached.
He sighed again. Doubtless Nuriko had been right in the first place. This wasn't about him. It was about Tamahome. Wasn't it always about Tamahome? Hotohori couldn't even come first when it came to offending her. She had probably barely noticed him. She had simply run and wouldn't care which one of them found her. All his concern meant nothing to her at all.
The floor was no longer swaying, but Hotohori found himself wearier than ever as he made his way back across the lamplit courtyards and through the maze of gold-leafed pillars and panels. A scent of incense drifted on the night breeze. He waved away the various contingents of servants who seemed to appear from all points of the compass like armies of ants. He would pray for Miaka before he slept. It was the only option left to him. He opened the door into his private apartments.
"So good to see you, Your Majesty. I will take my leave now."
Mitsukake? Hotohori's surprise was quickly replaced by concern; he couldn't remember when he had last seen a person looking so pale and exhausted. "You were waiting for me? Is there something we can do for you?"
The doctor shook his head. "Thank you, but no. Now that Your Majesty has arrived, I must go and tell the others that Miaka is found."
His heart seemed to stop. "Safe?"
"Very."
Silent prayers of gratitude welled up inside him.
"And healed."
A modest smile came to Mitsukake's face. Surely not, Hotohori thought. Not Tasuki and Miaka too. No wonder the poor man looked so drained. He felt humbled in the face of such selflessness.
"You should not…" He almost smiled to hear himself. "You should not take so much upon yourself.
"Do not trouble yourself about me, Your Majesty." Mitsukake shrugged.
But he would. He would make sure from now on that his care extended not only to the Priestess of Suzaku but to the Constellations as well. If they could not support one another, then surely they did not deserve to have her. And, Suzaku be praised, they did have her, safe and protected again. Only…
"Where is she?" He had to ask. Just for peace of mind, just so he could sleep. He would not ask for anything more.
Mitsukake smiled again. "It seems she ran to the safest place she knew. The place where she would be certain of the ultimate protection."
"And that was…?"
The doctor drew back the curtain. Hotohori drew in his breath. Miaka. Sleeping curled up like a small child, fist at her mouth, hair tangled over the pillow. His pillow. His bed. And a couple of empty rice bowls on the floor beside it. How typical! Grateful tears started to well in his eyes. She had not turned her back on him after all. In her greatest need for comfort, she had come to his apartments. To his protection. Silently, he swore to be always worthy of such trust.
He turned back to Mitsukake, but the doctor was already walking away. With the greatest care, Hotohori eased himself onto the bed and leaned over her, hearing her measured breathing, making sure that not even a lock of his hair fell across her face.
"You'll always be safe with me," he whispered. "Sleep peacefully, dear one."
She hadn't stirred. Hardly daring to breathe, he leaned a little closer and kissed her, with the lightest kisses he could possibly manage. Then he edged his way to standing and tucked the quilts and silken sheets in around her. He paused on the threshold of the secondary chamber. Let them both sleep soundly tonight. Tomorrow it would begin again, and the situation they would face on waking would be anything but easy. But at least neither of them would have to face it alone.
End.