AN: Sorry this took so long guys! The back half of it kinda fought me a little bit. Not to mention I've got all sorts of craziness going on. I work two jobs as a nurse and do a writing group with several friends once a month. Been trying to get my original works in order as well as read and make suggestions and stuff for everyone else.

Next chapter might take a while too, due to the reasons mentions above and the fact I am going to LA this week. A few months ago I did an acting class type of thing and some of us got invited to go to a networking type of deal in LA. It's five days long and I am in full out panic mode right now. I have no idea if it will go good or bad or if I'm going to end up crying in the fetal position in front of 200 or so agents. Even if the acting part doesn't work out, my hope is to get an agent to be interested in working with me and my writing. Although if I happen to land a part on something that'd be cool too! I've been very quiet about the whole thing because I didn't want to jinx myself or whatever, but if you could all spare a minute or two to pray or perform a good luck dance or whatever happens to float your boat that would be awesome.

Once again: All the thanks to Kitty Lynne for beta-ing!

Art of Love

Chapter Seven

By Red Courage

Almost an entire week had passed without Miaka having any dreams. Each night she'd gone to bed, physically and mentally exhausted from the combination of trying to prepare for Spring term at school as well as working full time at the library. Added to that was the new stress of trying to locate her three missing Seishi, while Nuriko and/or Tamahome stopped by every night after they finished work to participate in Chichiri's training sessions and to help Miaka replenish her energy after sending out her nightly call to the others. Tasuki and Chichiri were a constant presence in her home, and while Miaka immensely enjoyed their company, it was fraying her last nerve to have them hovering around her all the time.

The situation seemed to be wearing on everyone, truth be told. She could sense that each of her warriors would prefer to have one on one time with her, but with the current state of schedules, that simply wasn't going to happen. The closest any of them had gotten to being alone together was during their short lived chi-exchanges.

And that was another thing- though spiritual in nature, those sessions never failed to leave her feeling hot and bothered. No matter how brief, the sensations of merging with each Seishi's chi was just enough to tease her to the point of aching; she loved and wanted to make love to each of them- so much it physically hurt. Being so close, knowing that nothing would happen, that they just couldn't be alone… well, it added up to everyone feeling frustrated and unfulfilled.

Except for Chichiri. The smiling monk was the only Seishi who had yet to share his chi with her.

At first, Miaka hadn't paid it any mind. He was the teacher and whatever time they had needed to be spent training the other Seishi how to exchange chi with her without any ill effects. He'd said as much, once or twice. But now… she was wondering if there wasn't more to it. Ever since the first time she'd sent out the call for her missing Seishi and then passed out, it had become clear that Chichiri was avoiding touching her unless the action was strictly necessary.

The idea that he was pulling away from her during such an important time really bothered her. Unfortunately, she hadn't had any time to seek a resolution. Each night this week she'd headed to bed early to make sure she had enough energy to get through the next day, and each day she'd awakened with the grateful realization that her sleep had been blissfully undisturbed.

Until tonight.

Her lover from her last dream was back and, it seemed, anxious to finish what he'd started.

She didn't remember undressing, or any of what she was sure had been pleasurably tortuous foreplay—but that didn't matter. The start of the dream had her moaning uncontrollably from the delicious waves of pleasure generated by her lover's rhythmic movements as he drove her further into the mattress.She whimpered and gasped, tossing her head back as generous lips caressed her neck and shoulder,one hand raised to rest at the back of his head, holding him in place to prolong the sensation. Her other hand began a slow trek down her lover's slick back, her nails no doubt leaving pressure marks from his shoulders to just above his taut buttocks.

Her lover didn't seem to mind, in fact, her actions seemed to spur him on. An impressive growl erupted from him, one she'd never heard from this gentle man before, as his thrusts increased in tempo causing her to squeak in surprise at the sudden forcefulness. How she recognized him as the same person was beyond her, but she knew him and she now faced with his unbridled desire she was not in the least bit frightened. On the contrary, every inch of her was undeniably turned on.

Arms that had been planted on each side of her head shifted, sliding beneath her shoulders to hold her to him as he moved with frantic purpose. He'd been tender almost to the point of frustration, but now he was desperate and unrestrained.

The new intensity of their love-making was glorious—the way his sleek well-muscled body moved above and within her left Miaka unable to silence her cries of passion. She gave up trying to match his pace, wrapping her arms and legs around him and allowing her lover full command of her body as he drove them towards completion.

Burying her face in his sweaty shoulder and his tightening arms, she tensed as the heat pooling inside her reached its peak, causing every muscle to coil and release simultaneously. Her back bowed, and her legs anchored him to her as his hips pressed forward, and gave several stuttering jerks.

They lay still for several long moments, their breathing slowing in tandem. When she finally sought to get a good look at him, he'd thwarted her by covering her lips with his and bestowing the gentlest and most thorough of kisses. With a sigh he rested his forehead against hers. Her vision blurred, and his image shifted in the odd haze suddenly clouding the room...

When the haze cleared, the man she clung to was broader and longer. Miaka's heart skipped; she felt tiny under the body pinning her to the bed.

The lips that covered hers now were firmer, and as she responded to the kiss, she realized that the body pressed so tightly against hers was profoundly larger than her other dream lovers. His shoulders spanned what seemed twice that of the others, tapering to a trim waist that she still had her legs wrapped tightly around trapping his rather impressive member inside her to the hilt.

Miaka…

Her name was groaned in a familiar, deep baritone as his body shuddered with reaction to their intimate embrace. Despite the roughness in the voice, she could sense profound kindness and compassion as his lips caressed over hers again and again. Even though she was physically dwarfed by her new lover, she knew she had nothing to fear.

Dropping her feet to the bed, Miaka rolled her hips, moaning into his mouth and loving the feeling of having this immense chiseled body covering hers. His kisses consumed her as he began to move with languid strokes, his hips undulating in a way that left her gripping his arms in desperation, silently pleading for more speed, more force.

Her lover would not be rushed. He was maddeningly methodical, ensuring that he caressed every inch of her with his massive calloused hands, intent on wringing every last cry of pleasure from her as he did so. Their love-making seemed as if it would last forever, slow and thorough, their bodies moving together in perfect sync.

Miaka began to pant between kisses. Her overheated body tightened in pleasure once again and her lover finally sped up, one arm cradling her neck and the other wrapped securely about her waist as he lifted her to him with each powerful thrust.

Her body gave in, thrumming hotly as her lover continued to move. Her cry of release, the clenching of her flesh finally proved too much for him and he gave a muted shout as he came, his body trembling beneath her hands,his strong hips lunging with frenzied purpose into her diminutive form as they rode out the rest of their climax.

Hotohori. Mitsukake.

Miaka sat up with a sharp cry, clutching a hand to her chest and exclaiming, "It all makes sense!"

Premonitions! She hadn't just been having dreams… they'd been premonitions of which Seishi they were going to find next!

Miaka had come to the startling conclusion in the half wake-dream state of post coital bliss when she realized it had been almost an entire week since she'd had the last erotic dream. The exact amount of time since she'd learned that Hotohori was in the area. And the day that the others had shown up… she'd dreamed of everyone who'd shown up! At the time, she hadn't been able to recognize them, but now that she knew… Miaka wanted to smack herself upside for not having realized it earlier. Though she'd had erotic dreams before, these particular dreams were obviously so much more.

Heavy footsteps sounded and seconds later her bedroom door was unceremoniously thrown open to reveal a shirtless Tasuki bearing his Tessen, and an equally shirtless Chichiri brandishing his staff.

"What's going on? What's wrong?" Tasuki shouted, glancing about as though he expected enemies to pop out of Miaka's closet at any moment. The light she'd left on in the hallway cast his face into shadow, illuminating his hair like the halo of an avenging angel.

Realizing there was no imminent danger, Chichiri lowered his staff to place a placating hand on Tasuki's arm, forcing him to lower the tessen as well. "Miaka? Are you okay?" He asked with a frown, turning the bedroom light on and causing everyone to immediately squint.

"Didja have a bad dream, Mi-chan?" Tasuki's bright eyes assessed her carefully as he seated himself at the foot of her bed.

Miaka blinked at the sound of her name, as the memory of how many times her name had been called out in passion in the less than innocent dreams assailed her. Blushing, unable to look her Seishi in the eye, she pulled the blankets up higher around her in hopes of hiding her flushed body. Suzaku, she thought, don't let them figure out what I was dreaming about! I'll never live it down!

"Uhm, yeah. It must have been a bad dream." She lied, brushing at her mussed hair. She scrunched her face up in her best confused expression, hoping that her two Seishi would fall for it. "I don't remember what it was about."

"You said something about it all making sense, na no da." Chichiri supplied helpfully.

"I did? Huh. I, uh, I don't know what that could possibly mean…"

Chichiri propped his Shakujou near the door. Seating himself on the unoccupied space on the right side of Miaka's bed, he watched her quietly. Something in his expression told Miaka he didn't believe her, but she was too stubborn to give up the ruse just yet.

"Come on Chiri, there's lots of things that have made Miaka yell like that—" A sly grin covered his face. "Mi-chan, you naughty girl! Were you dreamin' about doin' the nasty? " He cackled, pointing at her, and rocking back in delight as Miaka felt her cheeks burn with color. "You were! Ha! If it was with Little Ghost, it's no wonder if it scared ya!"

"Tasuki!" She hissed, swatting the flame-haired Seishi solidly on the shoulder. "That's not funny!"

The bandit straightened, trying to get himself under control. Despite his best efforts, several more guffaws escaped him and Miaka could do nothing but bury her red face in her comforter and hope for a black hole to open and swallow her up.

When things grew quiet, she mustered the courage to take a peek. Her Seishi were still there, Chichiri looking thoughtful and Tasuki now looking a little chagrined at his earlier behavior.

"Why are you guys still here?" She asked plaintively. "I'm fine. Can't you just go back to bed and we'll pretend that this never happened?"

"Sorry, Priestess, but we can't do that." Chichiri said, surprising her by reaching out to softly stroke her hair. "Whatever this dream was, it obviously has significant meaning. Why don't you tell us what happened?" He shot a warning look at Tasuki before continuing gently, "There's no need to be embarrassed."

"Sorry, Miaka. It was immature of me, actin' like the kid you met at Mount Reikaku." Tasuki said. Cheeks stained a faint pink, he flashed a wolfish grin. "But if you were dreamin' about what I think you were dreamin' about, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease- yer a good girl, an innocent, and ya look real cute when you're all flustered. " He hung his head. "Still, it was a shitty thing t'do, an' I'm real sorry."

Miaka's blush deepened, and she nervously shifted her grip on the blankets. "It's okay. I mean, after what we've been asked to do to summon Suzaku I suppose I should get used to talking about this sort of thing, right?"

"That's a very healthy way to look at it, Priestess," Chichiri chimed in, nodding his agreement.

"So what was the dream about, exactly?" Tasuki prodded, looking up.

Miaka looked down. "Well...you were right. It was one of those really intense… s-sex dreams. I mean I suppose everyone has them to some extent, but I've been having these dreams a lot, lately. And they seem… for lack of a better term, real. Real,and yet… different."

"Different in what way?" Chichiri asked.

"Well, I started out with one partner and throughout the course of the… activities… the identity of the man I was with kept changing! I couldn't see faces, yet I had the strangest sense I knew them! I knew it was important that I know them...but no matter how hard I tried, I could never place who they were. Until now."

"So who were they?" Tasuki demanded.

Miaka swallowed, feeling the heat in her cheeks reach a temperature that should have caused her head to burst into flame. "Well, uh… actually…." She gripped the comforter, averting her eyes as she explained in a rush, "Itwasyouguys."

The silence in the room was deafening.

"You two and the rest of the Suzaku Seishi." She added, clarifying her statement.

She kept her eyes trained on a particularly loose string on her blue comforter as she waited for one or both of them to say something. Why weren't they saying anything? What must they think of her? How could she ever look either of them in the eye again? Especially Chichiri! The man was a monk for Suzaku's sake! The idea of his Priestess having erotic dreams was probably enough to send the poor man into heart failure!

And Tasuki! He must think she was no better than a cheap harlot at a brothel. And after he'd made it obvious how highly he thought of her virtuous nature! Wasn't that how she'd been raised after all? Good girls simply didn't have those sorts of thoughts! How was she supposed to be a priestess of anything when she had such impure thoughts?

Determined to mend her Seishi's obviously shattered image of her, Miaka continued—forcing the words out slowly and distinctly in the hopes that they might save her reputation. "I realized just now that these aren't dreams, but premonitions fueled by my connection with you." She chanced a glance at her two silent Seishi to find them both staring at her intently and immediately looked away again, faltering over her next words. "I-I had the first dream the day the four of you showed up, and I had another the day we discovered where to find Hotohori. And… and today is the day we go to the concert!"

Tears pricked at Miaka's eyes as she waited for one of them to say something. Anything. Her face still burned, and she resigned herself to the fact that it would never be a normal color again.

She was just about to throw the comforter over her head and vow to never get out of bed again when a hand entered her field of vision.

"Miaka."

After gently gripping her chin and forcing her to look up, the hand brushed her bangs out of the way and dropped to rest warmly upon one of her own, which was still holding the comforter in a death grip.

Chichiri had taken his mask off, and his lone eye regarded her with fond sincerity.

"It's nothing that you need to be embarrassed about, no da. I think you may be right." He smiled at her and for the first time Miaka realized his eyes crinkled slightly at the edges, perhaps the one and only physical sign of his age. "I'd venture to say that we might not even have needed you to send out the chi signals… apparently your bond with us is so strong that you were calling to us even in your sleep. Or we were calling out to you."

Slightly mollified, Miaka released the comforter to flip her hand over and interlace her fingers with Chichiri's. "You really think so?"

Chichiri nodded solemnly. "I know so."

Miaka let out a huge sigh of relief. Somehow, having Chichiri's approval made everything better. Since he was a monk and all, it even felt as though she'd received Suzaku's blessing on the matter. If he didn't think that sort of thing made her dirty or a pervert, then it must be okay. Right?

Right.

Shyly, Miaka turned to look at Tasuki, who had remained suspiciously silent since her confession.

The bandit was still sitting less than three feet from her, his face drawn into an expression of naked longing. Once he realized she was looking at him, the look vanished, and he offered her a weak smile. "I'm not as good with the words as 'Chiri, but if you think I'm mad that yer dreamin' about me, you'd be very wrong."

His voice was unnaturally husky as he spoke. He met her eyes momentarily, and Miaka forgot to breathe. How could one look convey so much?

A gentle but insistent squeeze on her hand drew Miaka's attention back to Chichiri.

"Do you think we'll find Hotohori today then?"

The question effectively doused the warmth that had been spreading throughout Miaka's body. To be honest, she was grateful. It was far too early for that kind of thing and she very much doubted that either man was up for watching the other being romantic with her.

She nodded emphatically in response to the monk's query. "And Mitsukake."

Chichiri let out an uncharacteristically loud groan as he shut himself back into his room. There was no use in attempting to go back to bed. He was usually up by now anyway for his morning prayers and ritual, and it was good that he had that extra time. Awakening to Miaka's scream had completely thrown him.

He'd rolled out of bed and darted across the hallway at the muffled yelling coming from her room, nearly running into Tasuki in the process. He'd expected to find anything from a small spider to Nakago in his priestess's bedroom—he certainly hadn't expected to find that his innocent Priestess was having erotic dreams—premonitions—about himself and the other Seishi. Chichiri was eternally grateful that she had been unable to look up for as long as she had because his mask had immediately peeled itself off his face in response to her confession.

Miaka had dreamed about him?

And not just any dream. The kind of dream Chichiri himself was not allowed to have. Or wasn't supposed to have. His life had been this way for the last eight years. Of course, just because he was a monk didn't mean he was perfect. It was a constant struggle trying to keep his thoughts chaste, especially when he spent so much time traveling with certain bandits.

But now…the rules were changing. He was going to be required to have sex with his Priestess. A fact which had plagued him constantly over the past week.

It wasn't that he didn't want to. No. He wanted to. He wanted to a lot. His reaction upon his arrival one week ago and those few precious moments alone in Miaka's bathroom was proof enough of his love, devotion, and desire for his Priestess. He wanted her. Perhaps more than he had ever wanted Kouran. A truth which caused him great shame, but one he could not deny.

His feelings were such that, for all his harping on Tamahome and Tasuki about control and suppressing feelings of jealousy, Chichiri was unsure if he was going to be able to control himself. It was one of the reasons he hadn't argued with Tasuki over who should get to accompany Miaka to the concert tonight.

It had been so long. Eight years. Eight really long years.

For the past week, he'd avoided participating in the chi sharing sessions. He'd played it off as concern for everyone else learning to master the art of controlling their chi, a half-truth the others had accepted without question. Chichiri sighed to himself, knowing that time was running short. If Miaka's premonition was correct, then after tonight they would only have Chiriko left to find and then…

With a violent shake of his head, Chichiri tried to banish the wicked thoughts from his mind, focusing instead on one of the many mantras he'd learned over the years. Unfortunately for the monk, the allure of green eyes and flaming locks of auburn hair was just too powerful. The way she'd looked huddled on her bed, with her hair in complete disarray had driven him to distraction. If it hadn't been for Tasuki, he might have entertained the thought of sliding beneath the covers so he could hold her the way she deserved to be held. And then…

Chichiri bit his tongue and chastised himself. And then you would tuck her into bed like a goddamn gentleman and go back to your room!

It was going to be a very long morning.

Tasuki wrinkled his nose at the scent of the various perfumes, sweat, and anticipation hanging thickly in the air. Miaka bounced excitedly in her seat, her eyes scanning the stage continuously, looking for any sign of her next reincarnated Seishi. Her small frame hummed with the barely contained energy she'd received just before coming to the concert. The flame-haired Seishi's senses were going wild with having her so close to him. If Hotohori didn't respond to this… then maybe they'd all be better off without him!

In an instant, Tasuki tamped down on that thought. Chichiri and Tetsuya had taken great pains to impress upon Tasuki just how important this was. Apparently this was the only chance Miaka would have to get even sort of close to Hotohori's reincarnate. There was absolutely no room for screw ups.

The lights dimmed suddenly and Tasuki wrapped an arm around Miaka protectively as the crowd suddenly screamed, leaping to their feet and pressing in on them, jostling for position. A moment later and lights began flashing and a sound like thunder reverberated throughout the room, nearly sending Tasuki into a panic. Seconds later the thunderous sound became recognizable as a drum beat and was joined by several other instruments.

What the hell? This is music?

Tasuki scowled, hunching his shoulders to try and block out some of the sound without letting go of Miaka. The sound was absolutely deafening. No offense to His Majesty, but I'm stickin' with fuckin' mountain folk music!

He cast a dubious glance at Miaka; the loudness didn't seem to bother her at all. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it—she was jumping around with some of the other fans as Andy Wong finally made his appearance amidst the bright multi-colored lights and-fog? Where the hell did that come from? Was Hotohori some sort of wizard in this world?

Tasuki boggled at the strangeness of it all, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as Hotohori's reincarnation strutted across the stage with the sort of swagger that would have made any bandit proud. The walk of a cultured and well-bred Emperor it was not. And...

Holy shit! The redheaded seishi closed his eyes as Andy moved his hips in a most suggestive way, and then opened them again in time to see the singer pulling his shirt up to reveal some royally chiseled abs.

He really did not need to see that! And the bandit had the distinct feeling that if Hotohori could see himself now he would be mortally embarrassed.

There's no way he'll see us, Tasuki thought. There were too many people. They were too far back. There was no fuckin' way Andy would ever be able to pick the two of them out of the massive crowd.

"Remember what Chichiri said: Focus!" Miaka reminded him, bowing her head and clenching her eyes in concentration.

As Tasuki focused his Chi, he could see the powerful life force that now surrounded his Priestess. Her small body was filling with so much energy, he was surprised the other attendees hadn't noticed her glowing like a damn firefly...but in the same moment, he realized that he could only see the red glow because he was a Suzaku warrior.

Could Andy see it?

Miaka finally released the energy, murmuring a quiet "Please" as the power was sent out.

Tasuki gasped, as he always did whenever she sent out the call. The feeling was similar to his heart skipping a beat, the sensation traveling all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes and accompanied by a strong feeling of deja vu. Automatically, he reached out to support Miaka as she sagged bonelessly against his chest. As before, the process had taken a lot out of her and now she looked as though she were ready to fall into a deep sleep.

Blinking blearily, Miaka gripped his shirt in her fist, clearly determined to do everything she could to make sure Andy noticed them. Since everyone was on their feet, it'd be impossible for Andy to see her if she sat down. The bandit shifted his grip, propping her against him and encircling her waist with his arm.

"Thank you, Tasuki." She murmured. She was incredibly tense as she waited for a sign, any sign that Andy would respond to her call.

Andy seemed to stumble suddenly, his gait faltering for only a moment, but long enough for Tasuki to know that he had felt Miaka's call. Andy recovered gracefully, continuing to sing and move to the beat, but Tasuki could see the searching look in the other man's eyes as his gaze roved over the audience.

It's working!Or seemed to be.

Andy scanned the crowd, periodically focusing intently on various audience members as the song drew to a close. Tasuki felt himself tense as Andy's gaze came closer and closer to landing on them. Instinctively focusing, he tried to call out to his brother Seishi, allowing his Chi to flare around both him and Miaka.

There was a slight shift in Andy's expression as his gaze drifted closer and closer to Tasuki and Miaka… before sliding right over them without any hint of recognition at all.

Beside him, Miaka went rigid, her grip tightening on his shirt. "No! Hotohori!" She was yelling, almost screaming, but her voice was immediately swallowed by the din of the concert audience.

"He didn't see us." Tasuki's words were listless. How could he have not seen them? They were right there! Right in front of him! Tasuki had even tried to help by signaling with his own Chi in addition to Miaka's!

Unless…

Chichiri had said that the procedure was extremely delicate, and that any sort of jealousy or anger could fuck things up. Had he managed to fuck things up? Even though he'd just been trying to help? Suzaku knows he wasn't thrilled with the new summoning arrangement, but he sure as hell wouldn't subconsciously ruin their chances of finding another Seishi!

Would he?

And so Tasuki mentally beat himself up for the rest of the concert, desperately hoping for the moment when Andy would turn, look at them and finally recognize Miaka.

Unfortunately, that moment never came.

Now that they were heading back to Miaka's apartment, Tasuki was becoming increasingly despondent. After a lot of music and thinking that made his head hurt, he was sure that the reason they were heading back without another Seishi was entirely his fault.

"I can't believe he didn't see us." Miaka sighed, shoving her hands in her pockets as she walked. She'd managed to recover enough energy to at least walk by herself, though Tasuki insisted on walking close enough to her that he could grab her if she stumbled. "I could swear he felt us, I really thought we'd gotten to him, but..." She sighed again.

It was now or never. He had to tell her he'd been the one to fuck it up. He couldn't stand seeing her so sad. "It's my fault. I'm sorry, Miaka."

Big green eyes looked up at him in confusion. "What are you talking about, Tasuki?"

"I'm the reason Andy didn't respond to yer call the way he should have." Tasuki had to force the words out, each syllable feeling as though it were made of lead.

"Why would you think that?" Miaka asked with an indignant air. "Your chi was...amazing...it gave me everything you had!" She blushed a little as she spoke, but her gaze was warm and steady.

They had stopped at a crosswalk and Tasuki reached out to gently run a finger over the curve of her cheek, enjoying the slight catch of her breath, and the darkening of her eyes as he did so.

"I gotta admit… it's because...I think there's a part of me that didn't want him to find us." His voice came out in a low growl, his face drifting closer to hers as he spoke. "I'm just as bad as Tama. I want ya all to myself."

His hand cupped her face as he swept in to punctuate his words with a kiss. He swallowed her surprised mewl, greedily taking her breath into him as he relished the feel of her lips beneath his.

Miaka allowed him this liberty for a moment, but all too soon she was pulling away. "Tasuki…." She fell silent for a moment, staring hard at the sidewalk. "This has to be so hard on all of you. It's not fair." She looked up. Her face was pale, her lips were trembling and her eyes filled as she valiantly fought her tears and he was cut to the quick. "I'm working on it. I love all of you. But the idea of loving you all, like that…is just… a little overwhelming. I don't know if I can handle it."

"Aw damn, Miaka. I didn't mean to… I'm sorry." He raked his hand through his hair in a fit of self-deprecating ire. I'm an asshole. I made her cry.He couldn't meet her eyes, afraid of what he might see. "I'm really a selfish bastard. Here I am, just thinkin' of not wanting to share ya, and you hafta worry about us all…"

When he finally scraped up the nerve to look her in the eyes, he only found understanding and adoration. He swallowed hard, then added gruffly, "Ya don't have to cry any more. I'm gonna- I mean, we'll all help ya out. " His amber eyes glittered, reflecting the city lights as they waited for the crosswalk to turn. He took her small hand, cradled it in his large, calloused one. "What's supposed to happen will, and just how it's supposed to. Just like before." Except this time is a helluva lot different. This time we're gonna be lovers...

"Thanks Tasuki. You always make me feel better about everything." Miaka smiled up at him, giving his hand a squeeze in preparation for stepping into the street as the light changed.

Tasuki couldn't help but grin as she continued to hold his hand as they stepped out into the street, following him as he led the way, his arm extended behind him. He felt better that he could still make her smile. And maybe they hadn't been able to get close to Hotohori's reincarnation, but at least they knew he existed. Suzaku wouldn't let them down. He would make sure the Suzaku Seven were reunited at last. And then...

His thoughts were disrupted by a terrible screeching that filled his ears. Heart in his throat, he looked around in a panic, trying to figure out what in the world could make such a sound.

The sound blared again, and then he saw a sleek black shape come careening around the corner, a metal monster with lights for eyes, swerving and heading straight for Miaka.

To Be Continued…

AN: Thanks again for everyone who's reviewed! Welcome to newcomers Valyemma, Ayriel, and Puffgirl1952!

Ayriel's reviews made me giggle the entire time I was at work. In answer to your questions: Bou Chuu Jutsu is mentioned in the manga and the anime. False Taiitsukun/Tomo convinces Miaka that she could use it to lower Nakago's chi and defeat him. Nakago and Soi also use it frequently to help him heal faster and whatnot. That, plus the idea that the Pristesses virginity was so important kind of spawned this fic. After she nearly gets raped for like the third time in less than 8 episodes I just had the random thought "Hey wouldn't it be interesting if the Seishi all had to sleep with Miaka instead of her having to be a virgin? That really would change a lot of things" and thus this fic was born. Decided on reincarnation because I don't want to deal with the mess that would be the anime were that the case. Can you imagine how dark that could get? Especially with Nakago in the mix? And Amiboshi as a spy? Although that could get pretty interesting…. Lol I am glad I am not alone in my perverted thoughts and that everyone is excited to see those end up in written form. *grin* But now the idea of Tamahome throat punching everyone just won't go away.