Author Fangirling: The nice thing about Fushigi Yuugi is that nobody really dies. They just make people sad about their absence for a while and come back later as pretty, shiny ghosts. Ta da!

Now that characters like Nakago are taking more active moves, this story is moving into another phase. Thanks again for reading thus far and your patience with my drawn-out style for this fic, and there is still plenty more from here on out. Please remember to leave a review, thanks! ~Appa

Yui watched Kouei and Shuuei sleep peacefully—however peaceful being piled on top of each other could be—and felt a smile hit her lips, though it did not match the rest of her expression.

"Is something the matter?" Xi Fang startled her.

"Nothing, just sad to see Miaka go."

"And worried?"

"Come again?"

"Nothing," she turned. "You should be sleeping soon, too."

"Right," she replied. "Thank you for taking such good care of me, Xi Fang. You've done so much."

Gingerly stepping through the house once she was sure everyone was asleep, Yui gathered a small bag of supplies and headed out the door. Though stealing from the people who took responsibility for her made her conscience feel like it was corroding, she justified it as being necessary in order to keep them safe. Suboshi had planned for her hiding almost too well, and she felt that staying there would alert Nakago to Kaika's happy little family. Seeing Miaka alive and well was the impetus Yui needed to see how far her own courage would take her alone.

This would not be that night. "Yui!" a whispered voice called behind her. Kaika had followed her out the front door. "I know where you're going."

"I appreciate what you and your family have done for me, but I'm afraid Nakago will know I've returned. I can't run away from him here."

"I'll escort you."

"There's nothing for you in Kutou, Kaika. Suboshi would be happier if you stay here."

"The same goes for you. I might not have fulfilled my responsibility to you before, but I need to make sure you're safe now."

"You don't have to do that. Go back with your family."

"I'm going because I have a responsibility to them, too."

They looked at each other for a silent moment as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, and Yui could tell he shared her concerns. Escorting her was less a matter of keeping her safe, and more a matter of keeping her safe elsewhere. "Very well. Let's leave quickly."

Xi Fang had nodded off to a troubled sleep, but as her hands searched around the bed for her husband's warmth, she jolted awake when she didn't find him. "Kaika?" she breathed his name and looked around in the dark, then sprung out of bed towards the front door. She had woken up too late, and he had already left. She sank to her knees in the doorway and cried, knowing exactly where he must have gone.

In Kutou, Suboshi was not aware they were moving, but he could tell Nakago knew of Yui's presence. What had him more disturbed was what Nakago said about Seiryuu taking advantage of anything to reawaken himself.

I called her here. I'm the one who put Yui in danger.

All this time, Nakago wasn't even the one he should be most afraid of. "Damn you, Seiryuu!" he found himself cursing in the shrine. "You've been summoned, what more do you want?"

"That's a dangerous question," Nakago appeared behind him, shocking Suboshi to hear him at that hour. The emperor casually strolled in behind him, acting oblivious to the true cause Suboshi's frustration. "The beast gods were never meant to serve us by benevolently granting us wishes. Originally, making sacrifices was meant to appease them so they wouldn't cause harm."

"But… but they still have granted wishes…"

"It's an arrangement. The gods are granted respect and feared, and we only owe them a limited amount of sacrifice now: a virgin, and as necessary, her warriors."

"That doesn't make any sense. Warriors benefit from having powers, too."

"Humans must be appeased as well, lest they become vengeful."

"So everyone else gets a free pass? That's ludicrous. It's too tidy, if you ask me—the whole seven warriors and one priestess thing. If the gods are that powerful, what use do they even have for us?"

"We allow them to exist. This arrangement controls their destiny as well as ours. It may be because of this arrangement that our world exists at all."

Suboshi stared back cynically. "Really. And who is responsible for that?"

"That is exactly what I would like to know. You're right, it's too neat—too scripted. It had to have been born out of a chaos."

The general stared back with no response, and watched carefully as Nakago opened his palm to reveal a clam shell. Suboshi recognized it as Tomo's, but did not recognize any of its contents. When opened, it cast an image of large buildings teeming with people nearly stacked on top of each other, horseless carriages zooming through the roads in tight packs and making strange noises, and bright images attached to every surface full of colors and language he had never fathomed.

"This chaos," explained Nakago, "is the world where the priestesses come from."

After what had seemed like many failed attempts at defying common physics, Chiriko was slumped over at Boushin's side and did not move for some time. Chichiri also stayed still, concentrating on keeping a barrier up. With a glance over to Houki, he nodded that it unnecessary for her to stay at his side. Much as her motherly instincts insisted that she stay, she knew she should leave them to their rescue attempt.

Quietly stepping into the next room, she found Mayo still awake. "Did it work?" she asked eagerly.

"It's too soon to say," she shook her head. She'd be lying if she said she didn't blame Mayo at all for Boushin's condition, but addressing that now would be fruitless.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. "It's my fault."

"As a priestess, you must accept that warriors will fight on your behalf."

"But Boushin shouldn't be a warrior for me. It's too dangerous. And besides, they… they can disappear too."

"Mayo…"

"I wish Nuriko would come back," she started to cry. Though Houki didn't know what she meant, she took a seat next to her to comfort her.

"I wish she was here, too. I miss her in a special way, like I miss His Majesty. All we can do is trust those who are here now, including Boushin."

"I don't know where they are, but they aren't gone, Houki. I'm sure they've been close this whole time, but without Suzaku no one's noticed them. They must be here somewhere."

"Mayo, they've died."

"But they've been here with us! Nuriko can still see you even if you can't see him. And he's so proud of you, but he can't tell you that!" she choked on sobs.

Watching her, Houki began to tear up as well and her throat tightened. "You do know that, don't you?" Her head bobbed in a nod, and the empress put a hand to her mouth, overwhelmed.

"Maybe…" squeaked Mayo, "Maybe I'm not a priestess after all."

From the next room, Chichiri could hear pieces of their conversation through the walls. If only he still had some way to communicate with Taiitsukun he could figure what was going on and what exactly they should do—especially if old enemies were taking steps to prevent whatever that was.

He broke out of his thoughts when he saw Chiriko stir. "Well? Any luck?"

"I feel like I saw him far away, but I lost him," he said, sounding groggy.

"How did he look?"

"Scared… and I couldn't tell what else was going on. I think I can find him again."

Chiriko's periods of success lasted in continually longer intervals after that, but Chichiri's only indications of what was going on were on Boushin's wincing face. The hours dragged on into the morning.

Boushin couldn't tell where he was, only that he needed to hide, but the only things to hide among were the shadows of monsters, and between all those shadows was what seemed like soaked cobwebs that felt sickening against his skin. He was getting exhausted by running back and forth among them, trying to keep from being noticed, and then running as fast as he could when he was, only to get tangled in webs. He couldn't tell how long this had gone on, and there didn't seem to be an end to it.

He couldn't continue to outrun them. At once his ankle was caught by something sharp, and he was dragged towards monsters he had already tried to put behind him. In their midst, he could only cower and try to guard his head as they repeatedly beat him. He felt disoriented as they thrashed around, and there was no sign of the chaos letting up.

As any remaining shred of rational thought seemed to flee him, the monster made a very sudden stop. He wasn't sure if they had abruptly decided they weren't interested in him anymore, or if it was just his imagination trying to help him escape.

"Boushin!" a familiar voice called out. It took him a moment, but he recognized that the voice belonged to Chiriko. Finally daring to look around, he saw that the monsters were twitching, nearly frozen by a scroll which Chiriko stood at the other end of. "I'll hold them off. Get away!"

The moment was brief, but it was the first chance the boy had taken to take a good look at his situation and try to decide the best thing to do. He couldn't stay there—there had to be some way out, and he needed to notice it.

He ran between two of the monsters in the circle that had surrounded him and looked for any kind of exit. Instead of finding a light, instead he only saw more monsters coming towards him. As they came faster, he stood and braced himself.

A flash got his attention—it was the reflection off a blade, held by someone in front of him. "This way," the person said and took him by the hand to lead him through a window that only appeared for a moment. Boushin found himself in a stiller, brighter place. Despite the strangeness of it, the quiet gave him a moment to think, and it made perfect sense that he wasn't there in a physical sense. Being very quick to accept that, he faced his rescuer: a young man with flowing hair and a gentle gaze, who was sheathing a sword Boushin recognized very well. The man gave him a fond smile.

"That sword," the boy began, "must belong to you."

He nodded.

"You're Hotohori…" he addressed him formally, "My father." As the word came out of his mouth, he felt like something precious had just escaped his lips and that he should catch it and hold it tightly again. To remain composed, he held his head up very straight.

"Boushin."

As if his name was a gate to open, they immediately embraced. "Boushin," Hotohori said again. "I'm so proud of you. I'm sorry I've been such a terrible father to you."

"No. You're not terrible at all!" he shook his head. "I… I've always heard so much about you… and I try every day… to…" he was so overwhelmed that he found it difficult to breathe and speak at the same time. "Are you really proud of me?"

"You can't imagine. And I've wanted so much—your entire life—to be able to hold you like this and talk to you. Let me take a good look at you," he crouched to roughly his eye level and held a hand to his cheek. Being under his gaze, Boushin felt embarrassed, but nonetheless in awe to get a good look at his father's face as well. A smile crept to his lips, Hotohori did the same, and soon they found themselves chuckling. "Boushin," Hotohori looked flushed with joy, "You look just like me."

Boushin's euphoria dissipated. "That's what you've wanted to tell me my whole life?"

"It's a plus," he replied. "Come. Let's talk a while and let you recover."

Boushin was barely conscious of whether they were strolling or sitting, but he had the distinct impression that he was following him. Hotohori never seemed to lose eye contact, and it was like they were floating together. "I see that you've learned quite a bit recently."

"Yes, probably more than I have in my entire life. They had been keeping everything from me for so long."

"Let's blame Miaka for most of that, shall we?" he joked. "I had to work very hard to obey her wishes."

"It's even hard for me now not to tell everyone that she's still alive! How could you do it?"

"It would have been harder to disrespect her wishes," he thought back to that moment when she was barely clinging to life in his arms, desperate for Tamahome, and asking for everything to stop.

"Oh," his voice fell. "You must have cared very much about her…"

"Boushin," he lifted his son's chin back up. "I love you very much."

The boy blushed and didn't have any appropriate reply, save "thank you."

"You can't fathom how deep my love for you is, as well as my love for your mother. It's true that it was necessary for me to produce an heir, but the circumstances did not make any difference."

"Oh," he had a sheepish smile. "You heard what Mayo and I were talking about that day."

"Yes. And I won't lie to you—my love for Miaka is also very deep."

Boushin didn't expect words like that to sting.

"There was a time in my youth when I did want to marry Miaka, and I was jealous of Tamahome. Her place in my heart will not change, but her place in my life did. She is my priestess; Houki is my wife—a woman who stood by me because I was the man she loved. Our circumstances pushed us together, but my only regret is that I left her alone to raise you herself, and that I left you alone to raise the country I loved."

"You don't have to worry! I love Konan, too! I want to summon Suzaku for all the people in it! Please, don't have that regret. I want you to be able to leave Konan to me. I'm trying so hard…"

"I know you are. Miaka's the one you're going to have trouble with."

"What?"

"She loves Konan too, so she will come around."

"Father, are you implying that she can still summon Suzaku?"

"Am I?"

"I'm afraid I haven't spent enough time with you to understand your sense of humor. But…" he trailed off in thought. "For you, it wasn't actually about summoning Suzaku, was it? You went into war and faced Nakago even when Suzaku was no longer here."

Hotohori smiled back. "I'm pleased that you understand."

"What should I do, then? Can I take back Konan?"

"I do not know the future," he looked more solemn, "but I do know that I trust you."

Boushin felt as though he would cry under pressure, but strangely, he felt refreshed instead.

"This sword will belong to you," Hotohori held it up as he drew out the blade from the scabbard, "but for now we have to get you back where you belong."

Boushin knew that meant going back to face the monsters, but he followed unafraid.

Chiriko had been struggling to find a safe way out amid all the crowds of monsters, but already being familiar with Miboshi's array, he wasn't terribly phased as they attacked. He only needed to make sure he kept the path for Boushin safe, and wait for him to come back from whatever deeper state of consciousness he had entered.

A flash of red light caught his and the monsters' attention, and as if flooding in through a tear in fabric, two forms he recognized rushed out. Hotohori slashed at the monsters, making way for Boushin to run past. "Chiriko is over there waiting for you," he said, and Boushin darted towards him. One by one, the slashed monsters disappeared, and those left crowded in front of Boushin to prevent his escape. Instead of waiting for them to attack, he braced his head with one arm and ran through them as fast as he could. "Go, Boushin!"

He and Chiriko reached for each other, and Chiriko pulled him close once he had a hold of him. "I have him!" he called to his fellow warrior, and then started to back away into what seemed like another tear. Hotohori nodded them off with a proud smile, and Boushin called after him one last time.

"I'm going now, Father! I'll be alright! I'll save Konan!"

After that, he was running through a dark tunnel with Chiriko. "Just keep going forward. Do you see Chichiri's light?"

He peered ahead and saw a red haze. "Yes."

"Good. You have to get to it! That's your way out!"

Boushin ran faster. Faster and faster—he didn't care if there was still anything behind him, he just needed to move forward.

Everyone was alerted to a loud gasp. Boushin panted in quick breaths, and Houki was immediately at his side. "Boushin! Are you alright now?"

"Mother…"

Mayo peered in from the doorway at the sound, and Chiriko slowly roused next to him. Houki could be strong no longer and cried tears of gratefulness as she pressed her forehead against his and held his cheeks. "It's alright now, Mother. I'm here."

As he was assisted to a sitting position, Mayo dashed across the room to his bed to embrace him. "Boushin!" she cried. "You did it! I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I ran away."

"I'm relieved you're safe."

"You think you're so cool," she had an odd smile behind her tears. "But what else could I expect from my bravest warrior?"

He broke into a bashful smile at the title. "You don't need to call me that."

Chiriko lethargically sat up, impressed that Mayo's idea had actually worked, and that he had succeeded. Maybe—just maybe—this would prove useful in other ways.