Although the ceremony to Summon Suzaku has failed, hope remains for Yui and her Seishi. Now, they must travel to the empires of Hokkan and Sairou for the Shinzahou that will allow them to summon their god.
It is a time of preparation, and a time of respite.

Episode Twenty-six:

The doors of Suzaku’s Shrine closed behind Hotohori as he left, leaving Yui and Taiitsukun inside. Below him, at the foot of the stairs, the guards and religious were starting to stir from their musically-induced slumber. Chiriko lingered at the top of the stairs, peeking into the scroll he’d been given. Likewise Tasuki was admiring his shining new Tessen while Tamahome moped about the unfairness of it. As for himself, he had practically forgotten about the sword in his hand.

He saw Nuriko laying Amiboshi down in the grass as Chichiri and Mitsukake looked on, and he descended toward them, picking up his shoes as he passed by where they still lay on the steps. “I want him placed under house arrest, heavily guarded.”

“Of course. I’ll see to it,” Nuriko replied.

“Please, let me tend to his injuries first,” Mitsukake said.

Hotohori nodded. “Of course.” The pragmatic Emperor part of his mind was telling him that he should have Amiboshi killed, not so much an act of vengeance as an opportunity to set Kutou back, but he wasn’t willing to listen to such heartless advice, even from himself. And this proved only the first drop in a storm of practical considerations brewing up in his mind. This new quest had to be planned for, announcement had to be made about what had happened—news of the failed ceremony was bound to get out and he could only assure the people that there was still hope—and that business with Tamahome, must go ahead with that... And then the Star Watching Festival was coming up—that would be a good opportunity... “I’m going to the front of the palace,” he said. “I have to wake the ministers, start making plans...”

“Not without guards, you’re not!” Nuriko snapped, then immediately clapped a hand to her mouth. “Hotohori-sama, I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re right. Help me wake them up...”

Nuriko paused to point at Tamahome and Tasuki as she and Hotohori each found the nearest guard. “You two!” she shouted. “Stop goofing off and start shaking guards!” That was enough to shake Tamahome out of his cloud.

“Hey!” Tasuki protested.

“And don’t enjoy it too much!” Nuriko added.

Meanwhile Mitsukake removed the cover from the medicine jar Taiitsukun had given him. “If this brings out my power to heal, I can’t think of a better time to start using it...”

Chichiri nodded, stroking Amiboshi’s shaggy hair back from his forehead. Such a young man, a child, really, who’d become a weapon in this war by the accident of being born a Sei of Seiryuu, now laying here unconscious with his arms charred black and seeping... something... It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair.

Mitsukake withdrew his fingers from the medicine jar, covered with a white crystalline powder, and touched it to his mouth.

“What is it no da?”

“It’s salt.”

Chichiri made a terrified squeak. “Don’t use that no da!!”

“I won’t,” he said, dusting off his fingers. “Although I think I might know what it’s for.” He set the jar aside and held his hand over Amiboshi’s arm.

The red light caught the attention of the guard Nuriko had just awakened. “That’s him!” he cried. “The Sei of Seiryuu!”

“We’re handling him!” Nuriko insisted. “You just do your job and wake up the others!”

By this time Hotohori had gathered an entourage of guards. “Tell Yui where I am,” he said to the courtyard in general. “—And Tamahome!”

“Wha?” Tamahome looked up from shaking a Priest of Suzaku.

“I’m going to talk to you later,” Hotohori said, then turned and set off toward the palace. Chiriko glanced around the courtyard for a moment, then skittered down the steps and ran after him.

“Somebody’s in trouble,” Tasuki sang.

“Shut up!”

Even with his arms now healed, Amiboshi was only half awake as Nuriko hauled him to his feet, still shouting orders at the guards, who were by now up and milling about. “He’s under house arrest and the Emperor himself said ‘under heavy guard.’ I need a detachment!” Mitsukake followed her toward the palace doors as a cluster of guards quickly formed around them.

They had disappeared into the trees when one of the twin doors of Suzaku’s shrine creaked open, just enough to let Yui slip out, leaning heavily on the door and dragging her heavy silk robe behind her. By now most of the monks were awake and ran to help her, with a soft chorus of “Suzaku no Miko-sama!”

“Yui, are you okay!?” Tamahome dashed up the stairs while Yui paused to let the monks push the door open again and dislodge the train of her robe from it.

She took his hands to steady herself and let her feet fall onto each stair down to the garden. “I’m okay.” She looked around. “Where is everybody?”

“It’s all right no da,” Chichiri assured her. “Hotohori and Chiriko-chan went to wake people up and figure out what to do next, and Nuriko-chan and Mitsukake-chan are taking care of Amiboshi-chan no da.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Yui stepped on the hem of her robe and stumbled against Tamahome.

“Yui, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Somebody get me out of this robe!!” she wailed, and leaned heavily against Tamahome, sobbing against his chest and clutching at fistfulls of his clothes.

“It’s okay, Yui. Come on. Let’s go to your room and get some rest.” Some of the lady monks were already running toward them with a sewing-box. “You follow us,” Tamahome told them, and started gently leading Yui away with an arm around her waist.

Tasuki watched them walk away for a moment, cast a quick glance at Chichiri, then stormed off. “Ah, hell, I’m gonna go out front and shake some more guards.”

Chichiri stood statue-still as the other Seishi left her. Slowly, as if fighting for the momentum to move, she turned and looked up at the relief of Suzaku on the door of the shrine; her hand touched her face, and her mask stiffened and slid off into her fingers. The shudder started in her arm, moving her hand slightly at first, and then grew like an earthquake until she launched the mask at the door with a roar that sent the other monks scattering as she ran up the stairs of the shrine.

“Chichiri-sama??”

“Leave me alone no da!” she screamed, throwing the massive door of the shrine open, then dragging it shut behind her. The doors sealed off the sounds of the outside world, and Chichiri, with the cry still in her throat, turned to look at the statue of Suzaku. The scream faded into a wail, and then a sob as she fell to her knees and bent over, rocking like an upset child.

*

Hiro paced up and down the apartment, from the door of his room, up the hall, through the living room to the kitchen and back, book in hand. “‘Seiryuu’s Sei Amiboshi was locked in a well-appointed room, with Imperial guards along the outside of every wall, and two inside the room with him. Those who had fallen under his power were wakened, and the Emperor summoned his ministers to counsel him, and to plan a route into Hokkan. He ordered criers and written proclamations to be sent out into the city and all the land, saying that the Suzaku no Miko and her Seishi would now undertake a quest, and that Suzaku would surely be summoned upon their return. He also ordered that a coach and horses be at the ready.

“‘When he had done this, the Monks of Suzaku who had attended to the Suzaku no Miko told the Emperor that she had called his name, and he left his ministers to their deliberations to be at her side.’”

*

Hotohori glanced down the hallway toward the counsel room. He hadn’t been there when Yui came out of Suzaku’s Shrine... His advisors could wait a bit longer. He set out in the opposite direction, toward her quarters.

“Um, uh... Your majesty?” Chiriko called him back.

“Yes?”

“Um, should I tell everyone you’ll be late?”

“Yes, please,” Hotohori said, and pointed to one of the guards. “You, lead Chiriko to the counsel room.” The man detached from the cluster of guards around Hotohori and did as told, with Chiriko half-running to follow on his shorter legs.

The rest of them followed Hotohori as he made his way toward Yui’s room, with a few of them scouting the hallways some way before and behind him. For all the caution, they arrived without incident, and Hotohori slid the door open to find Tamahome seated beside Yui’s bed, where she lay curled up tightly under the blankets. Tahamome stood as the guards slid the door shut.

“She’s been calling for you.”

“So I heard,” Hotohori said. “Is she all right?”

Tamahome nodded. “I asked Mitsukake to look at her, just in case. He says she’s been over-stressed and she needs some rest, but that’s it.”

Hotohori nodded and crossed to Yui’s bedside. Rather than taking the chair, he knelt beside the bed, almost eye-level with her, and removed the fringed hat so that he could lean close to her face and stroke her hair with his hand.

Slowly she woke and looked up at him longingly before burying her face in the pillow. “Stop it,” she said. Her voice was tiny, hardly above a whisper.

He withdrew his hand. “Is something wrong, Yui?”

“When Taiitsukun... talked to me...”

He reached for her hand, but she shrank away from his touch. “Yui, what is it?”

“She said I couldn’t let you touch me...”

“What...?”

“She said... She said that to summon Suzaku, I had to be ‘untainted by human touch,’ and especially not to let one of my Seishi touch me with love.”

Tamahome turned to look from across the room.

“I think just that kind of love, but... I love you...” she whispered, and sniffled.

For a moment, Hotohori couldn’t meet her eyes, but he took a deep breath, set his face in a soft expression, and leaned on the bed to look at her eye-to-eye. “Yui. You know that I don’t have to touch you to love you. And once we have summoned Suzaku, then we will be free. Is that right?”

Yui nodded slightly.

“Then just know that until then, I may not touch you, but I will be close by,” he said. “That’s enough to make me happy. So don’t cry for me. Let your mind rest. We’re taking care of things now.”

She managed a tremulous smile for a moment, then paused. “There isn’t anything you need me to do...?”

“Rest and take care of yourself,” he said. “I will let you know when I need your help.”

“Okay.”

Another long pause.

“Do you need me here?” he asked

“...I’ll be all right.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be okay. Tamahome’s staying with me.”

“Very well,” he said, and suppressed a longing to kiss her forehead. “I will be arranging the journey to Hokkan, but don’t hesitate to call for me if you need me. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of it.”

Yui closed her eyes and nodded against the pillow.

“Sleep well, Yui. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He rose and turned to Tamahome before leaving the room. “Thank you for staying with her.”

“You said you wanted to talk to me about something...?” Tamahome asked.

Hotohori paused. “Stay with Yui for now. We’ll speak about that later,” he said softly, and swept quietly out of the room.

The door sliding closed behind him left the room silent, and Tamahome returned to the chair beside the bed. He hesitated for only a moment, then took Yui’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. To hell with what Taiitsukun said...

*

“Suboshi?” Nakago said on his way into the room. “The doctor told me your arms...”

“All better, yeah,” Suboshi said. He was sitting on his bed, smiling brightly at his left forearm, and didn’t look up as he spoke. Nakago came up next to him and looked over his shoulder; there were a few short marks on his arm, just slight white-on-red fingernail scratches. “We worked out this code a long time ago,” Suboshi said, and pointed to two short, lengthwise parallel lines near his wrist. “These mean he’s safe. And this one,” a single line below them, running in the same direction, “is ‘Can you talk?’.”

Before Nakago’s eyes, a whitish hint of abraded skin crossed the single line perpendicularly.

“No,” Suboshi said, the smile falling from his face.

*

“What are you doing?” the red-armored guard demanded.

“Nothing!” Amiboshi said. “I just couldn’t believe how the skin was, after I’d gotten burned like that.”

The guard kept glaring at him, stone-faced, but seemed to accept the explanation. No. I definitely can’t talk, Little Brother.

Amiboshi sat on the head of his bed and leaned against the wall. There wasn’t much else to do, practically nothing else that didn’t offend the guardsmen standing in his room watching him. Just under his breath, he started humming out a little composition he’d been working on. He smiled as he went through it over and over, thinking one part might be more elaborate, another more simple...

“Stop that!” the guard barked, training a spear at him. Only then did he realize that he’d lost himself in thought and started humming aloud.

“All right! All right!”

He leaned against the wall again. Minutes dragged by as if they were hours.

“Could one of you hum maybe?”

The guards just narrowed their already-harsh eyes at him.

He sighed and resettled himelf. It felt like starving to death, being locked in here with no music, but at least he was here in the palace, near Miaka. He hardly even dared to think about her, lest the thoughts somehow get out of his head and into the air for someone to see. Hopefully she was still laying low. Hopefully that would keep her hidden...

*

Nuriko brushed her fingers across the railing of the walkway to Suzaku’s Shrine and watched the red light of sunset dance across the courtyard. Was it really just yesterday when she had been cleaning her dress uniform, shining every adornment until it shone like a mirror, dreaming about what she would do once Suzaku had been summoned and the quest was over? It seemed so long ago, those dreams so distant... In place of that excitement, all she could find was a desperate need for a little peace and quiet, and ironically the only place she could think to find it was the same place where she had lost it that morning.

She turned and stopped short in front of the entrance, then bent down. “Chichiri’s mask?” she questioned, picking it up. Slowly she stood and pushed the door open. “Chichiri?” she questioned, peeking in.

“I’m here no da.”

Nuriko blinked in the dimness for a moment before finding her, still wearing the crimson monk’s robe from the summoning ceremony, curled like a princess’s elaborately embroidered ball at the feet of Suzaku’s statue. The only clue that this “toy” was something more was the long periwinkle braid hanging over her shoulder, the tip dragging in the water of the fountain.

“Are you all right?” Nuriko asked, stepping inside and easing the door closed behind her.

The ruby on Chichiri’s forehead caught the torchlight first, glowing like a star before it was joined by the brown jewels of her eyes. She looked Nuriko in the face for a moment, and then lowered her head again. “Nai no da.”

Nuriko glanced down at the smiling mask in her hand. “Have you been here all this time?”

“Hai no da. I needed...” Chichiri raised her head again, and her scarred cheek turned into view as she looked up at the statue of Suzaku towering above her. “I needed to be here for a while no da.”

“Yeah, me too.” Nuriko said. After a moment, she slowly crossed the floor of the shrine, looking down at the Miko’s veil bearing the Seishi’s ruby constellations, which lay tangled on the floor. She paused at the foot of the fountain, then carefully stepped into the water, walked over, and sat beside Chichiri, clasping her hands between her knees. A long moment of silence limped by. “What a mess,” Nuriko murmured at last.

“You can say that again no da.”

The water lapped around Nuriko’s ankles, laughing mockingly at her as it flowed away. “I wonder why we didn’t... feel Amiboshi, if he was a Sei of Seiryuu.”

“I guess... I guess he never really tried to hurt anyone no da.”

“Except himself.”

“Except himself no da.”

Nuriko leaned back and looked up at the statue of Suzaku, and beyond, to the stars just begining to peek through the orifice in the ceiling. “I don’t understand why he would do that to himself. Was he trying suicide, what? I just don’t understand.”

“I don’t know if I understand anything anymore no da.”

“Me neither. Yui and Miaka are both so young... So many of the Seishi are, too. So young to be having to fight and suffer...” She gave a sniff. “I’m not even twenty, although it makes me feel like an old man sometimes. All this pain and suffering, friends being turned against each other, Miaka’s pain, Yui’s, and poor Tamahome... This can’t be what the gods want.”

“Nai, it can’t be no da. I believe the gods want us to be happy; I have to no da.” Chichiri took a deep breath, and let it out in a slow sigh. “But I guess we have to be able to chose paradise or it means nothing no da. People have to have free will so they can chose to do good, and we can do such beautiful things with it no da. But free will means we can do ugly things too no da. Such horrible, ugly things...”

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.”

“Sometimes I do too no da.” Chichiri leaned back against Suzaku’s legs. “What do we do now no da?”

“Well, I guess we go to Hokkan and look for Genbu’s Shinzahou. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Best to take it one day at a time, I guess no da.” A slight smile played across Chichiri’s lips, putting just the faintest arc under her brown eyes. “Or we could make the gods laugh again and tell them our plans no da.” She paused, and the smile vanished from her face. “That wasn’t funny no da.”

Nuriko chuckled just slightly.

“Do we know when we’ll be leaving no da?”

“I’m not sure. Probably less than a week; it looks like it’ll be after the Star Watching Festival.”

“The Star Watching Festival... that’s enough time no da.” Chichiri leaned forward and looked Nuriko in the eyes. “Nuriko-chan, will you go on a trip with me no da?”

Nuriko blinked. “Huh?”

“Will you go on a trip with me no da? I want to visit my home village; it’s on the border of Sairou, but if we leave tomorrow morning, we can be back in time for the festival with my magic, and I want to see my brother before we go no da.”

“But, um... Why do you want me to go with you?”

“Tasuki hates me, and I don’t think Hotohori is very fond of me no da. Tamahome-chan has his own problems right now, I barely know Mitsukake-chan, and I don’t know Chiriko-chan at all, but you’re a nice person and I like you no da. And... I just don’t want to be alone now no da.”

Chichiri’s eyes caught her, so desperate, reaching out like a prisoner searching for any kind, helping hand.

“I don’t want to be alone now either,” Nuriko said with a nod. “I think Hotohori-sama will let me take some leave after this mess. I’ll ask him and Yui and let them know that the guard can handle things without me, and then we’ll go.”

“Thank you no da!” Chichiri cheered, grabbing Nuriko and hugging her. Without seeming to think about it, she took the mask out of Nuriko’s lap and put it back on her face before splashing across the fountain. “I’ll get everything else ready; you don’t have to worry about anything no da. You’ll love it; my village is beautiful this time of year no da. All the flowers are in bloom – you’ll love it no da!”

Nuriko couldn’t help but chuckle as Chichiri bustled out of the shrine. It’d been a long time since she’d had a break; it would be good to go home, even if it was to someone else’s. She smiled at herself as she descended the stairs and crossed the garden to the palace. Last she’d heard, Hotohori was still in the counsel room.

*

“That’s crazy,” one of the advisors was saying. “Hokkan’s army has lookout posts all the way up that river.”

“Well,” Chiriko started, but the rest of what he said was drowned out in the renewed argument.

“Silence!” Hotohori commanded. The room fell silent so suddenly that it seemed the air had frozen. “Chiriko, what did you say?”

“Um, I said we should send a messenger to Hokkan and tell them we’re coming.”

The Minister of War actually laughed. “You aren’t serious.”

“Well, if we tell them we’re coming for peaceful reasons, then they won’t think we’re invading. It would be riskier not to. Konan and Hokkan are on friendly terms. If we send the Suzaku no Miko and her Seishi as diplomats, it’ll be a lot easier on them. Er, us.”

“And I suppose they’re just going to hand us Genbu’s Shinzahou if we put out our hand?” an advisor shot back.

There was a knock at the door as he spoke, and Chiriko turned to see Nuriko recognized at the door and Hotohori leave the seat beside him to talk to her. “I think...” he said before turning back around. “I think if we don’t put out our hand then they definitely won’t.”

Three people shouted at him at once before the rest joined in. He glanced back at Hotohori, who was still talking to Nuriko in the doorway. He started to make replies, but the advisors just kept shouting, by now having turned on each other and all but forgotten him.

“Calm yourselves,” Hotohori said as he came back from the doorway. “This shouting isn’t getting us anywhere. We will hear what Chiriko has to say.”

“Your majesty,” one of the ministers said, “surely you aren’t thinking of disregarding our advice for that of this...” The man’s eyes tracked the lowering of the Emperor’s eyebrows, and he resituated his tone. “Chiriko-sama is indeed a Sei of Suzaku, but he is also a child, with no knowledge of strategy or administration.”

“I placed first in the first civil service examination,” Chiriko volunteered. He shrank back under the stares from the table, which ranged from incredulous to outright hostile.

“You’re Ou Doukun of Jouzen-shi?” the Minister of Internal Affairs asked.

“Yes.”

“And you also wrote a treatise on Occupation-Era Lyrical Poetry, then?”

“Yes, but I’ve studied more about it since then and I don’t think I was completely right about everything in it. For example, apparently the law Kutou made about ‘excessive’ reference to the color red wasn’t as strongly enforced as I thought then, plus my arguments didn’t fully take into account the fact that a lot of the poems weren’t published until after Konan’s liberation so we can assume that the authorities would never have even seen them so—”

“Chiriko, please excuse me,” Hotohori cut in. “As fascinating as this is, we must stay to business.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

*

“‘The Emperor and his ministers, together with Suzaku’s Sei Chiriko, made plans for the journey, and drew up orders for a ship to sail the river northward into Hokkan, and for the ship’s equipment and provisions,’” Hiro read, leaning his elbows on the kitchen counter. “‘The Emperor insisted that the plans not wait a day more than necessary, so they deliberated long into the night, while Suzaku’s Sei Chichiri made preparations for her own journey.

“‘When the Emperor and his cabinet had finished their deliberations, the orders were sent out, and a messenger was dispatched to the Imperial court of Hokkan with all haste, to announce the coming of the Suzaku no Miko and her Seishi. Although it was very late, the Emperor returned to the Suzaku no Miko’s chambers, unwilling to sleep until he had spoken to Tamahome.’”

*

The opening doorway cast a column of light across the darkened room, jolting Tamahome out of half-sleep. He turned to see Hotohori standing in silhouette, with just enough color bleeding around the edges to make his Imperial robes unmistakable. Uncharacteristically fuzzy strands of his hair caught the light, creating a tattered halo of weariness around his head.

“Tamahome. Please, come with me.”

“It’s awfully late, don’t you think?” he said, nonetheless coming to the door.

“I’d rather not wait. And I think you’ll feel the same.”

With a glance over his shoulder to ensure that Yui was still sleeping undisturbed, Tamahome followed Hotohori out the door and through the hallways and stairs to a balcony at the end of a wide audience chamber, looking out over the palace wall onto the city.

“What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” Tamahome asked as Hotohori looked out at the dim twilight view.

He rubbed his head. “I had hoped to do this in daylight. I had a speech in mind, too, but I can’t remember it now. Of course, it was supposed to be after Suzaku was summoned, but now it would be cruel to wait. I apologize for making you lose sleep, but I made up my mind to do this today.”

“Do what today?”

Hotohori remained away in his own world. “I used to think that the whole world looked like this city. I had never seen or gone farther than this view, and what I saw were all happy, prosperous people. People would tell me about horrible things that existed outside, and I did my best to help, but I had never seen it, and try as I might, I didn’t understand. Because of that, I think, I couldn’t understand you when I met you. ...Excuse me.”

Tamahome watched as he rubbed at his eyes, which sparkled strangely in the moonlight. “Hotohori-sama...? Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” he said, then pointed off into the sea of roofs, which all looked blue in the dark. “One of those houses out there, near the palace, just off the market... It belonged to one of the ministers of my court, who wanted to retire and go back to his family home in the provinces. I hope you won’t think I’m being too presumptuous, but I bought that house.”

Tamahome suppressed a laugh. “What do you need a house for? You have the whole palace.”

Hotohori kept looking out at the city. “I want you to go home and bring your family back here to live in that house.”

This time he did laugh. “You’re kidding me!”

Hotohori turned to him, obviously meaning to show him a serious face. It could have been the blue darkness or the shadow of his hair that made him look so sad, but either way it caused the smile to fall away from Tamahome’s face and let the news into his mind.

“My family... Living in the city? In one of those big houses...?”

“I want your brothers and sisters to study under the tutors here in the palace, also,” Hotohori said.

“You mean it!?” Tamahome cried. “You really do mean it!” He took a moment to steady himself. “When do I leave!?”

“The sooner the better,” Hotohori answered. “We’ll have the ship ready to go to Hokkan as soon as possible, and I’d prefer if you were back in time for the Star Watching Festival.”

“The Star Watching Festival.... Yes! I can take Yuiren and Gyokuran to the Star Watching Festival! I don’t think they’ve ever seen fireworks before...”

“I have a coach at the ready if you want to leave immediately.”

“Immediately!? As in right now!? Tonight!?”

Hotohori nodded.

“Yes! I’ll go right away,” Tamahome said, and dashed three steps before he stopped and turned around. “What about Yui?”

“I’ll tell her where you are.”

Tamahome stood grinning for a moment, then suddenly seized Hotohori in a short, tight hug before running across the room and out the door, leaving the guards slightly flustered.

Hotohori smiled to see him go, then slowly eased his tired body into motion. At least today would have a happy ending for someone.

He struggled to run it all through his mind as the guards followed him slowly back toward his bed-chamber. Tamahome is leaving now, Chichiri and Nuriko leave in the morning... The palace would seem empty without them. Soon it would seem empty without everyone; the Emperor couldn’t go to Hokkan, certainly... No, don’t think about that. Plenty of time to think about that tomorrow... Somehow it seemed he had forgotten something, but his thoughts were tangled from the business of the day, and his mind too numb with fatigue to sort through it. Plenty of time to think about that tomorrow, too...

He recognized the guards outside Yui’s room and paused for a long moment, then turned off course and opened her door. In the dark, he could just make out the shape of her, still asleep in bed. “I’ll be close by...” She’d be leaving soon. He wouldn’t be able to keep that promise for long...

With Tamahome gone, she shouldn’t have to wake up and find herself alone... He slid the door shut behind him and took his shoes off again, then padded softly across the room to her bed, the silk hem of his robe hissing across the floor in the quiet. She slept peacefully, snuggled with his hat in her hands. Too sleepy to resist the temptation, he leaned over her face.

“I’m sorry, Yui,” he breathed. “This will be the last one, I promise.”

Gently, he kissed her forehead before settling himself in the chair to sleep.

*

Miaka gathered another pile of cloth into the basket. It was a nice place, she thought, where you could just leave your clothes laying around and have people pick them up, wash them, and put them away, if only she weren’t on the wrong end of the arrangement. Still, the servant girls were easy to talk to, chatting in the back rooms of the palace about boys and clothes like the girls back in school, and they were friendly if she asked questions about what they did, so it was easy to go along and blend in with them. That was what Amiboshi said to do, although she hadn’t seen him since he’d been captured. Hopefully it was still what she should do...

She came to an intersection in the hallway and stopped. She knew she was near where Yui and the Sei of Suzaku had their rooms, and it scared her, but now... Hotohori was standing in the hallway, in front of Yui’s door. She didn’t know what it was about him, maybe the way he was standing, but even at this distance, he looked so tired and so sad... and so beautiful. She wanted to stare at him forever, almost as much as she wanted to run to him and hug him. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. I love Tamahome...

She looked up again to see Hotohori disappearing into Yui’s room, and her heart shook.

The nearest guard turned to look at her. She must have been suspicious, standing there staring... With a quick bow into her laundry-basket, she turned around and hurried down the hall.

*

To Be Continued...

*

PREVIEW

As Tamahome happily speeds toward his own family and Hotohori and the others prepare for the journey to Hokkan, Nuriko accompanies Chichiri to her family home. The path is paved with the Masked Monk’s memories and secrets, and Nuriko finds herself faced with her own truth as well.

Next Time: