Starlit Reflections

Fushigi Yuugi is copyright Watase Yuu, Flower Comics, Studio Perriot, Viz Communications and Pioneer Entertainment. All rights remain theirs and no profit is being made from this (Tamahome would doubtless get it all if there was any anyway).

Chapter Two: Phoenix Rising
 

Nuriko stood at the door of Hotohori's rooms and knocked, suppressing a yawn.

I have got to hear what he was doing today. Three Shichiseishi and the Priestess are here - I bet the Council had a fit.

"Come in."

Nuriko moved into - green. Green swatches of brocade hung against green lengths of cloth. Green jade jewellery competed with emerald against the light. Hotohori looked up from a leaf-green ensemble, laid out on a divan.

"Do you think it'll suit me?" he asked anxiously.

Nuriko blinked. Hotohori had always been very fond of his own reflection, but - "Anything looks good on you, Lord Hotohori," she replied absently, her mind attempting to work out exactly why a wardrobe change seemed to be in order.

"How was Miaka?" Hotohori paused, almost imperceptibly, and then continued, as if there had never been a break, "and Tamahome?"

Oh, dear.Every time she had teased him about the harem and being a bachelor, Hotohori had blushed and maintained that he was waiting for the Priestess of Suzaku to love. It appeared that he had not been joking.

Nuriko frowned. Whether either of them had been aware of it or not, she couldn't tell, but Lady Miaka and Sir Tamahome had gravitated towards each other all evening. Whenever Lady Miaka had moved, Sir Tamahome had glanced up, as if to ensure he knew exactly where she was; Lady Miaka had kept Sir Tamahome in her view at all times. A romance was sprouting there. If Lord Hotohori wished to court Lady Miaka, things could get messy.

"Lady Miaka and Sir Tamahome seemed well, when I left them. The chamberlain and I arranged for them to be placed in the ambassadors' quarters, and they seemed quite comfortably settling in," Nuriko replied, buying herself a little time. Should she tell Lord Hotohori what she'd seen? Probably. But then, what girl could resist Lord Hotohori? Half the harem was head-over-ears for him.

Kourin isn't in love with him, Nuriko reminded herself, taking a deep breath, and continued, "It's really quite charming, the way those two are."

Hotohori paused in the middle of matching jade bracelets. "Oh?" he asked, voice carefully blank. "What do you mean?"

"If I don't miss my guess entirely, I'd say the First Shichiseishi and the Priestess of Suzaku are falling in love! The way they keep looking at each other when the other isn't looking, the way they keep each other in sight - it's terribly sweet." She injected a wry note into her voice as she continued, "If it weren't for that, I'd try my own luck, but Lady Miaka's mind appears to be made up!"

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure." Seeing the way Hotohori's face had blanked, she tried to leaven the bitter pill a little. "I can't be certain, though."

Hotohori laid the jewel down. "But I would look good in this."

Nuriko smiled. "Yes, but I'd put you in a cream undertunic with that over-robe. I wouldn't try to match green with green on green - although greens are easier than reds."

"You would look good in it, too."

Nuriko laughed. "No, thank you, Lord Hotohori. Blue is my colour." Her voice was shaded with history - as if she'd said it so many times that it was more a fact than the colour of the sky.

Hotohori had been turning away, but he turned back at Nuriko's words. "You do tend to wear blue a great deal - may I ask why?"

She chuckled. "When we were small, Kourin and I were even more similar than we are now. Also, Kourin tended to wear boys clothes a lot. So Mother laid down a law - I had to wear at least one garment at all times that was blue or purple, and Kourin could never wear anything in either of those colours. It's just become a habit. I don't mind - I do look very good in those shades."

Hotohori smiled at his friend. "If my mother laid such a command on me, I'd probably break it."

"Oh, we did! It was fun to pretend to be Kourin every once in a while. But we grew up." Her voice had lowered as she said that last sentence.

His eyebrow twitched at the tone of her voice. "My star-brother, why do you sound so sad?"

Nuriko shrugged. "When we grow up, we have to embrace our destinies. And we are the Shichiseishi of Suzaku, aren't we?"

"You make too much of that. Just because the designation holds the character of 'death' means nothing."

She shrugged, standing and walking across the room. "I don't know, Lord Hotohori. After all, are we not the Seven Star Gentlemen of Suzaku?" The door clicked shut behind her.

Hotohori stared at the door. What on earth did he mean, 'Gentlemen'?

Tamahome lay back on the soft bed.

What the hell am I going to do? he thought.I have got to get a job somehow - they're depending on me! Remembering Chuei's face as he had waved goodbye that morning, a commingling of determination and despair, Tamahome's own jaw firmed.

Damn that landowner! If he hadn't dammed the stream to give himself a swimming pool, the farm would be keeping us all in wealth! I wouldn't have had to take all those jobs, those slavers would never have dared approach me, and I wouldn't've had to go looking for work here in the capital.

He hated slaves. The ones owned by the three families in the village rich enough to keep them had truly wretched lives. They either had to work till they collapsed of thirst and hunger in the fields, or they had to care for the homes of those rich men - and serve their bodily appetites too.

As if I would ever sell Yuiren or Gyoukuran into that.

Tamahome rolled over. Maybe, if I talk to that Nuriko guy... he didn't seem too bad. But Nuriko was as changeable as a girl and as unpredictable. Imperious with soldiers, businesslike and take-charge around officials, deferentially irreverent to the Emperor - how did he dare?- big-eyed and charming to the cooks as he cadged them a late lunch - it was almost as if there was a host of little Nurikos inside him, and each and every situation called a new one forth.

Besides, he knew what Nuriko would likely say: "If you need money, ask Lord Hotohori."

How can I ask the Emperor for an allowance?!

There was a soft snuffly sound from next door, and Tamahome decided to go see what was happening there. At least with Miaka he knew where he stood. She was a nice, naive kid who thought he was a hero. It was really kind of nice.

Miaka was asleep, but she wasn't resting. Rolling around in the big bed, she was calling out in her sleep. As he stood there, Tamahome was struck anew by how little she was.

How can someone so young and innocent handle being the Priestess of Suzaku? he thought. He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her mobile face, changing in the soft moonlight as she experienced the emotions of her dreams. Laughter chased amazement as it fled before curiosity and was in turn pursued by bewilderment. Tamahome instinctively reached a hand out towards her.

At that point, she rolled close and grabbed it. "Elder brother?" she whispered softly, her sleep-voice full of fear and bewilderment. "Elder brother?"

He felt a pang as he felt her cling to him, a basalt outcropping in her dream-maelstrom. "I'm not your brother," he whispered to the troubled girl. "I'm not..."

Miaka felt the images shift within the dream. Strange winds blew about her. She ran down a corridor in school, only to find herself bursting out into the courtyard where she'd met Hotohori.

Various people were standing around the ground; Hotohori wore silken robes and a strange square hat, while on the other side of the courtyard Tamahome stood woodenly, wearing full armour embossed with red phoenixes. Miaka stepped toward Tamahome, looking around. Close to Hotohori stood Nuriko, as stiff as a store mannequin, wearing an Empress' robes.

"Hotohori? Nuriko?" she asked, experimentally. The two were as statues, for all the results she received.

"Tamahome?" she tried again, with as much response.

Looking beyond them, she saw, a few metres from Tamahome, a flame-haired man dressed garishly in a teal and purple coat that would have been incredibly ugly on anybody else but made him look rakishly handsome. Carrying along the line was a small figure with a tied-up tuft of pinkish hair. Between he and Nuriko stood another figure, this of a tall man in a simple homespun garment and a melancholy expression. And past Nuriko and Hotohori stood a man with only one eye and a cloak that swirled with all the patterns of the stars...

Miaka stepped more quickly towards the Tamahome-statue. Then, beyond him, she saw two other figures, standing at the gate of the courtyard. They stood with their backs towards her, but she still recognised them.

"Mum! Elder brother!" she yelled, sprinting over to them.

They didn't move.

"Mum?"

The figure of her mother was as stiff and unmoving as the other figures.

"Elder brother?" Miaka asked, pulling on his sleeve.

The image of Yuuki Keisuke reacted as the image of Tamahome had - which is to say, it didn't.

"Elder brother?"

The Keisuke-statue suddenly moved, taking her hand gently, and Miaka felt her heart fill wildly with hope. He bent toward her, his face full of pained sympathy. "I'm not your brother," he whispered sadly. "I'm not..."

Miaka gripped his hand desperately, the clenching of her muscles suddenly jerking her into conciousness. She found herself facing Tamahome.

"I'm not your brother," he was whispering to her. "I'm not... but I'll be your brother while you're here."

She flung her arms around his neck, giving vent to the tears and releasing all the pent-up stress of the day. Tamahome held her as she cried, giving her a steady shoulder to weep against.

Nuriko quietly shut the door of her official rooms, slumping against the doors.

She waited, counted to a hundred, and flung open the doors, to reveal an empty corridor.

She deflated and shut them quietly. She'd been positive there would be at least one servant there, to 'accidentally' overhear something.

Paranoid? Quite possibly; but she hadn't survived being a girl in a man's role without learning the value of precautions.

Looking around the rooms, she felt achingly homesick for her rooms in the harem. Although she slept here at least twice a week, in order to keep up the fiction that she 'lived' here, she had never bothered to turn the quiet, well-kept suite into the warm, welcoming haven she'd built Houki's rooms into.

She placed one hand gently on the frame of the tapestry she'd hung near the door.

Since I came here, I've thought Ryuuen was the temporary identity, only to be until I became Nuriko; then Ryuuen would gracefully retire and I would be able to be Houki for always.

Letting her shoulders slump, she walked over to the comfortable divan, loosening her sash, and all-but-fell onto it.

Lord Hotohori is going to pursue Lady Miaka, and he is going to be disappointed,she thought sadly. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, but there wasn't anything she could do.

I hate watching him go charging into something stupid, but I really can't do anything except warn him. She sighed. Nobody says this about being the ruler's trusted friend. They say it's wonderful how Nuriko is the Emperor's friend, how loyal he is, and not a word about how it feels to be patted on the head and told to run along.

Nuriko closed her eyes.I'll get up in a minute to go to bed... in a minute...

Nuriko was in a foul mood the next morning. (Sleeping all night on a divan so you get a crick in your neck and being woken by gossiping maids rushing past your room before dawn will do that to you.)

So she wasn't in the most sympathetic of moods the next morning when Hotohori 'dropped in' to breakfast with Miaka and Tamahome.

At least I didn't bother to manufacture up an excuse, she thought grimly, peeling a pomegranate as she lurked behind the flower arrangement on the table.

"I'm going into the city, later," Tamahome said, interrupting the eating-noises the four were making.

"You are? Good! I'll go with you," Nuriko immediately declared. No way am I staying behind to play chaperone for Hotohori-sama. This courtship of his isn't getting any sign of approval from me.

Hotohori glared across the lotus at his best friend. Does Nuriko think that his danger is less because the Priestess of Suzaku is here?

"You will?" Tamahome was obviously startled.

"I've got some things to do. It's my sister's birthday soon." And mine, so I'd better get her a 'selection' to give to me. I don't want another set of girl's Court-robes!

"Oh." Tamahome fell silent. He has a sister - maybe I can tell him about how I've got to earn enough that they don't take Yuiren and Gyoukuran away.

Nuriko looked at the younger seishi. Hmm. That sparked something. I think he and I should have a talk when we're in the city today.