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 Three: The Stars In Alignment
 

Hotohori frowned as he made his way through the corridors from the small dining room where he, the Priestess of Suzaku and his fellow Shichiseishi had breakfasted.

What, exactly, is going on in that boy's excuse for a brain? he fumed. He knows about the assassination attempts and he's going down into the town where he's going to be targeted! Suzaku's Holy Flames, Nuriko, you're not going to go, and I don't care what you say!

Nodding decisively, Hotohori made a beckoning gesture with his right hand. In response, a young page ran quickly up beside him. "Yes, Majesty?" he panted.

"Find Lord Nuriko, and tell him I require his presence in morning Court," Hotohori commanded, without breaking stride. "Tell him 'No' is not an acceptable answer."

"Majesty!" the boy bowed. Hotohori did not look back to see the boy speed off. The command, and the phrasing, were now so ordinary that neither would raise comment.

He doesn't realize how important he is, Hotohori thought grimly.

When the first report of an attack against Nuriko had been brought to his attention, he had automatically ordered that Nuriko be given the same protection as the Emperor. That night, he'd woken in a cold sweat from a nightmare. He'd sat there in the darkness, arms hugging his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth, desperately trying to shrug off the image of himself presiding over Nuriko's funeral.

It seemed he woke from that nightmare almost every night now. Reminding himself that it had been just a dream did not work very well. The repeated attacks did even less for his peace of mind.

I already decided chaining him to his bedpost wouldn't work. No matter how tempting the prospect.

Hotohori closed his eyes and breathed out. It was sometimes frightening how deeply Nuriko had wormed his way into Hotohori's life. He could still remember the last time they'd disagreed.

Nuriko had been quiet and noncommittal before the Court, but the very second Court had been dismissed he'd dragged Hotohori to a private antechamber and barred the door. Turning back to Hotohori, he'd taken a deep breath and promptly yelled "YOU ARE AN IDIOT!!" After running through his reasons, he'd taken Hotohori to lunch, and then in afternoon Court, Nuriko had supported him and his position - as if he completely agreed with

A friend who'll tell me when I'm being stupid, and still support me anyway. Now that I have you, I have no intentions of doing without you.

He was almost at the door of the Council Room when the page caught up. "Majesty," the boy panted, "Lord Nuriko has left the Palace grounds!"

Hotohori stopped dead. Clenching a fist, he deliberately kept his face smooth. "Inform the guards at the gate that when he returns, he is to report to me personally." Nuriko, you had better have a reason for this... and it had better be good. Or a collar and leash may very well loom large in your future.

"What about this one?" Nuriko asked, lifting the doll from the display tray on the stall. "It has a red dress."

"Yuiren does like red. It's a good one - I'll take it. How mu- Sir Nuriko!"

"Oh, come on," the other Seishi soothed, pocketing the change and handing Tamahome the doll. "It's less than a copper ryu. Believe me, I can afford to buy your sister a doll. You're helping me carry all my sister's stuff, ne?"

"That's true..." Tamahome muttered. He hefted the basket that hung over one arm. It was not that heavy, but it was uncomfortable.

It might have been less uncomfortable if it had contained something other than a few pieces of tasteful jewellery and several jars of cosmetics.

Tamahome didn't want to know how Nuriko had known as much as he'd demonstrated he did about cosmetics. What Gyoukuran would think of the glass-bead necklace Nuriko had said was 'perfect for a beginner' was something he didn't want to contemplate either.

"How did you know Yuiren would like red?" Tamahome asked, figuring that a switch of subject was best.

"Oh, when my sister and I were growing up, Kourin always hated doing what everyone said girls should, but she also hated being thought of as boyish. So she'd try to find things that 'girls don't do' that boys don't do either. Like wear red all the time. It's not a 'boy' colour, but girls don't wear it much. From what you've said, little Yuiren's a lot like that."

"Really? But she's such a sweet little girl..."

"A ball isn't really a girlish toy, is it? I bet little Yuiren's like Kourin was - she likes lots of different things, ne?"

"That's true."

"It's not a bad thing."

"It might be," Tamahome muttered darkly. "The more she knows to like, the more she'll miss..."

"You know," Nuriko said swiftly, "I was born and raised in a town to the north of here, and after Kourin and I became permanent members of the Court, my family moved our business here to Eiyou as well. I'll take you later to meet them - we make the best cloth in Eiyou, and I'm not boasting, we clothe most of the Court - but apart from my journey here, I've never been out of a city or town. What's a farm like?"

Tamahome stared at his cheerful star-brother, and felt a surge of overwhelming pity for the older boy. To have never left the city? To have never known a night so dark that the starshine was truly as clear as daylight? To have never seen the land smooth and green for as far as the eye saw? To have never lain in the soft grass and looked up to see nothing but sky above and the occasional passing bird?

"It is..."

... a cow belling at dawn to be milked ...

... watching a flock of fat white ewes to ensure Old Man Lau's randy old ram from the next paddock doesn't get into them, because sure as Suzaku's Flames he'd try to claim a stud fee ...

... pushing hard on the plow, hard earth beneath, while Chuei damps down the furrow behind him and Shunkei follows, scattering in the seed ...

... Gyoukuran chasing the chickens and coming in demanding that they have the Old Biddy behind the coop for soup, because she pecked her fingers yet again ...

... Yuiren reaching out to the bean-flowers, and having to pull her hands away, explaining that we can't pick the flowers, we need them to fruit so we'll have beans in autumn ...

"... it's home."

"Tell me about it?"

Tamahome did.

Miaka sat on a rock in one of the Palace gardens, quietly disgruntled.

She was bored. Bored bored bored. Hotohori was off ruling and Nuriko had dragged Tamahome off to the city for some reason that neither had bothered to explain.

(Actually, she'd been busily eating while Nuriko and Tamahome had made their arrangements. So, if she had been listening, she'd have known. But she hadn't, so she didn't.)

They'd left her all alone, and she had no idea what to do next. Maybe when next she saw Hotohori, he'd explain. He was nicer than Tamahome and liked her more than Nuriko did. But in the meantime she had nothing to do except wander around, being bored bored bored...

"Hello! Who are you, and why are you in my garden?"

Miaka jumped and turned, to find herself facing another girl, one who was slightly older than herself. The other girl had long purple hair, half-pulled back with carved jade hair combs, and wide lilac eyes. Her face was piquant and charming, and Miaka had the certain feeling that she'd met her before somewhere.

"Uh - I'm Yuuki Miaka. I'm very pleased to meet you. I'm sorry about wandering into your garden. I didn't realize that it was off-limits."

"I'm Chou Kourin. I'm pleased to meet you too, Miss Yuuki. I'm sorry about barking at you - it's just that this part of the garden is close to my sisters' and my rooms and most of the other members of the harem avoid us. When they do come, it's not usually about anything pleasant."

Miaka ignored the comment about 'other members of the harem' to concentrate on what she saw as the important part. "Avoid you? Why would they?"

Kourin sat on the rim of the little fountain pool that Miaka had been watching. "Harem politics, of course. They think that Houki and I are more likely than they to be chosen by the Emperor. Houki is, despite what she thinks -" and Kourin smiled, a strangely mixed smile of bitterness, triumph and satisfaction - "- but I don't want Emperor Saiheitei and he doesn't want me. Thank Suzaku."

"Chosen by the Emperor?" Miaka questioned softly. She didn't like the sound of that...

"To be named as one of his concubines, or even Empress. Although some just vie for his bed."

"You're a concubine?" Miaka felt shocked. Kourin-san wasn't that much older than she was - how could she just talk about sleeping with some guy? Even if he was an Emperor?

An Emperor. She knew an Emperor. She's sleeping with Hotohori?

"No!" Kourin declared emphatically. "The Emperor hasn't touched me, and he won't, ever. He'll give me to someone else, eventually."

Miaka looked at Kourin. The girl had sounded relieved when she said that. She must've really meant it. "You don't like the Emperor?"

Kourin shrugged. "He's nice enough, and when - Ryuuen - introduced us, he was very polite and well-mannered. But I don't want nice. I want-" she blushed.

Miaka smiled. When it came to worming confidences out of people, she was the best. "You can tell me. Kourin-san. I won't tell anyone, I swear. And I'll tell you about the guy I like. He isn't an Emperor either."

Kourin looked hard at the other girl. Why was she suddenly so friendly to this girl? Other members of the harem were dangerous. Internal politics could turn deadly at the drop of a silken veil, and had. If she hadn't decided to avoid that dinner Lady Yanagi had given last year, 'sudden illness' would have been written on her grave marker.

But this girl wasn't setting off any of her alarms, and Kourin felt suddenly certain that she wasn't any kind of agent. She was, Kourin decided, exactly what she appeared to be; another girl who was just plain lonely and wanted a friend. "Well-" she hesitated, then decided to plunge right in. "I haven't met a boy I like yet, actually. But I want someone who's alive. Not too mealy-mouthed - I won't die if I hear a bit of foul language, after all - and someone who has a bit of a temper, who'll scream right back at me when I lose mine."

Miaka blinked. She didn't like short-tempered people - they tended to scream at her, when she really didn't mean to drop all her stuff on their feet, or fall over right in front of them.

"Well - the one I like is a bit of a mercenary. He's looking for money and when he saved me from bandits, he asked me for payment! But he's patient and kind, and when he holds me, I feel so safe and warm. I know he'll never let me be hurt, and it gives me so much strength inside. I can't imagine feeling so about anyone else."

Kourin blinked. The strong, silent type, eh? She'd never liked those sort of boys, herself. 'Strong like ox, dumb like fish, hitch to plow when horse dies,' Houki had commented once about one such boy in her class at the local school - cruelly but accurately.

Hongou Yui sat on the floor of the small room of the National Library, holding an old book and trying, desperately, to think.

First, she'd gone to return a book to the desk, and then she'd turned back to Miaka - only to see her friend's foot as it turned the corner on the stairs beside the entry foyer.

Then, following Miaka's fleeing footsteps, she'd come upon this small room. Restricted to Authorized Persons ONLYwas written on the door, but she saw Miaka standing inside, holding an old book. This old book.

The room had glowed bright red for a second, so brightly Yui was forced to lift her hand before her face to protect her eyes. When she'd lowered it, the glow was gone - and so was Miaka.

The Book (as she'd started to think of it) had been falling as she watched, as if the person holding it had suddenly let go...

Yui dived for the Book, catching it just before it struck the floor. For some reason, she felt as if letting the Book hit the ground would be like letting Miaka fall from a cliff.

Examining it, she'd opened the Book, to see it fall open to a blank page. She'd not thought anythinng of it until the words had begun to scroll down the right-hand side, as if someone were writing in it and she were watching over their shoulder.

Yui had stared blankly in fascination at the page. She had no idea how to read the dialect it was written in (it looked like Chinese, but she had studied some Chinese and this language was not Chinese), until the phrase 'the maiden from the other world' had caught her eye, and she had responded. Gulping hard against the shock, she had begun to read.

Miaka has vanished, I can read a language I know not a word of, I'm sitting in a room that shouldn't be unlocked, reading a book that's writing itself.

The maiden of the story, after being saved from slavers by the gallant Tamahome, encountering the Emperor and spending a restless night, was now talking with an Imperial Concubine about, of all things, boys.

She certainly acts like Miaka! If it were me, I'd be looking up all the information I could find about the Priestess of Suzaku and her role, while this girl is waiting to be told.

Yui turned the page and waited for the story to continue. Oh, Miaka, I'm so sure this is you in here. How am I going to get you out?

Nuriko grinned to herself as she pushed open the door. She'd judged it right; there was nobody in the shopfront except a very bored Rokou, sitting behind the counter.

"Elder Brother!" she caroled.

Rokou jumped, startling himself out of his half-daze. "Wha? Oh! Hou-hello Ryuuen. You startled me."

Tamahome, who had followed Nuriko in, nodded soberly at the young man, who looked like an older version of Nuriko.

"Let me introduce you!" chirped Houki. "Sir Tamahome, this is my elder brother Rokou. Elder brother, this is Sir Tamahome, a fellow Shichiseishi, who arrived at the Palace yesterday. Nice save," she added softly. "Don't call me that, all right?"

Rokou gave her a flat look. "It's your name," he whispered back. Raising his voice, he continued, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Tamahome. I hope my annoying sibling over there-"

"Annoying? Me?"

"-isn't bothering you too much."

"Oh, no," Tamahome replied. "He's been very kind and helpful."

"That I am," Houki chimed in. "So, Elder Brother, does the family still need runners around the shop?" 'Say yes' she mouthed at him from behind Tamahome's back.

Rokou's eyebrows quirked at her. His voice was warm with gentle exasperation. "Ryuuen, you of all people should know we always need runners. They always quit after the first week. Boys just don't want to be cloth-makers or cloth-sellers these days." His fingers drummed softly on the counter. A stranger would think it was just a fidget, but Houki recognised the old code from when they had sat beside each other in school. Even though she had usually given rather than received it, she still knew very well the beat of 'Explain this to me later'.

'Say we need a fifteen and an eleven year old.'  "What areas need help? Maybe I can come pitch in sometime."

"Well, everywhere does, but what we really need are a couple of teenaged apprentices. I'd like them to be under sixteen though. Old enough to do the work, but young enough to learn. If we could get a couple of country boys, we'd give them lodging, all meals and an allowance as well as the training, if only they'd stay." 'Acceptable?' his fingers tapped out.

Houki responded with a big grin.

Tamahome shook his head. An opportunity like this - it was amazing, and would be perfect for Chuei and Shunkei. Chuei loved the farm, but it was as much for the memories as for the land. This looked like a prosperous shop and 'an allowance' could vary; if he worked hard enough, Chuei could probably save up enough to buy another farm when he was older. Shunkei had no real love for the country so a start like this, even if he didn't stay with the clothier, would be good for him.

But what about Yuiren and Gyoukuran? He couldn't provide an opportunity for the boys and abandon his sisters. Especially not with those slavers hanging around. And what about his father?

"I have two brothers - but I'd need to ask them if they wanted to come."

"Fair enough," Rokou-san nodded. He was not quite as manic as Nuriko, but maybe that was age? Looking at the two brothers, he felt as if he was looking at twins, if it were possible for one twin to be a year older than the other. "I always prefer training apprentices who want to be here."

He glanced at Nuriko again, and Tamahome felt the meanings and messages those lilac eyes exchanged yet again. This family didn't just talk with their lips. He just knew there had been more than one conversation going on here, and the verbal exchange had been the least of them.

Nuriko was looking down, and if Tamahome hadn't known better, he'd have thought Nuriko looked ashamed.

He must have been mistaken, for Nuriko was looking straight at Rokou-san again. "How is your mother?"

"My mother is fine. As is yours." Yes, that definitely wasa barb. He saw Nuriko wince.

"Is she still being courted by the herbalist?"

"Yes. She says she's considering his suit carefully, and isn't sure if she wants to encourage him."

"If she isn't sure, then she shouldn't encourage him."

Rokou nodded. "I agree, and that's what I told her."

Tamahome stopped listening then. That dark red-maroon was a beautiful cloth and he thought it would make a lovely festival coat for Chuei.

Rokou saw Houki's companion become distracted and lowered his voice. "Your mother asked me to tell you-"

"No," Houki replied, her voice throbbing with intensity.

"But-"

"No, Elder Brother. Tell me nothing of her."

"Your anger is not good for you," he muttered.

"Having a mother would be good for me."

"She is your mother."

"A mother wouldn't let her daughter be forced to become her son. A mother wouldn't abandon her daughter so that she'd have to learn about - girl stuff - from her father's concubine. A mother would be a mother. Like yours." Houki frowned. "But let's not talk about that."

Rokou sighed. Being the wedge between his sister and his father's wife was exhausting. "What was all that rigmarole we just went through about?"

"Sir Tamahome's the eldest of five children and his father is very ill. His family's farm isn't doing very well and he came to the city to find work so that his family can survive. Being a Shichiseishi's going to interfere with that, so if we can get the children settled somewhere safe, where he doesn't have to worry about them getting enough to eat, he'll be able to do his job better. And I don't have to feel guilty about running out on my apprenticeship anymore if I find you a new apprentice." She quirked her eyebrows at him. "Ne?"

"I see," Rokou chuckled. It was impossible to be exasperated or angry with Houki for long. She was just too irrepressible.

"Has Nuriko returned yet?" Hotohori asked his chief advisor. They were alone in the Council room, as all the business of the realm had been dealt with, and the other councillors had left for the midday meal.

"No, but he did take Lord Tamahome with him into the city. He is very likely perfectly safe, Majesty. You have no need to be so worried."

"No need? His life has been threatened, and assassins have come so close to success that it's only the fact that I ordered Imperial-level protections about him that have saved him. I believe I have every need to be so worried."

Lord Yukino frowned. Really, the Emperor was too protective of the youth. It was undoubtedly due to the lack of other associates. Perhaps they should have brought young lords to the Court when the Emperor ascended the throne. The young Seishi had proven to be a loyal and honest companion, but one gained the impression that if the Emperor had a choice, the boy would never leave his side. Which was not good for the line of succession. Until the Emperor sired his heir, he would have to be gently weaned away from Lord Nuriko. Lord Yukino shook his head lightly. Emperor Saiheitei wouldn't be the first Emperor to prefer the companionship of other men, and Lord Nuriko was an excellent choice - but not until an Imperial Wife was pregnant. "Majesty, perhaps now would be a good time to discuss Chou Houki."

"Who?" Then, remembering his conversation with Nuriko - where is he? - a day earlier, he nodded. "Oh. Yes. Houki."

"Yes. While Chou Houki is registered as a member of the seraglio, it appears that she is chronically shy..."

Hotohori stared blankly at his advisor, not hearing anything beyond the first phrase. Nuriko said he didn't have another sister, that Chou Houki didn't exist. How can Chou Houki be a member of my seraglio if she doesn't exist? All members have to present themselves in person to be admitted, but Chou Houki doesn't exist. Does she?

Tamahome couldn't believe the sheer wealth that surrounded him. This was a green watered silk, while those were soft wools from the far west. Rolled up on shelves were thick, soft carpets from India and Ceylon, and over in other racks were brocades and satins from even further away.

"They're not, you know."

"What?" Tamahome said blankly.

"They're not imported. The wools are, and the carpets, but our weavers made the other fabrics. I told you we were good." Nuriko smiled. "Come on. You're about to join me in becoming one of the best-dressed gentlemen in Konankoku."

"Huh?" Tamahome asked intelligently. Nuriko grabbed his elbow and gently pushed him over to the counter.

Rokou came out from the back room. "Here they are." He piled into Tamahome's arms bolts of the richest cloth he'd ever seen. Black-green silk and red satin overflowed from his hands, and those were only the bolts on top. He could feel cottons and linen and other stuffs against the skin of his arms.

Nuriko himself had an armful of emerald, sapphire and amethyst cloth.

"Make sure these are cut well. The dye's spotty on the red, streaky on the blue and I don't know where we went wrong on the black to make it go green in the light, but if we sold it I'd die of the shame," Rokou told him.

"The world won't end if somebody ends up with an imperfect bolt, Elder Brother," Nuriko told Rokou.

"No, but they won't get it from the Chou cloth merchants," Rokou declared.

Nuriko shrugged, but wore a proud smile as they left the shop.

"... so that's why I wear my hair in red ribbons."

"You should, I agree. They're so pretty. Are they silk?"

"No - I think they're just ordinary red ribbons..." Miaka trailed off. She'd never really thought about her hair ribbons. Mum had always just bought them.

She gasped as a wave of homesickness hit her. Mum, who really did want her to do well, Older Brother who always stuck up for her... she missed them so...

"I'm baa-ck!" came a bright voice from the building nearest them, and out walked - Nuriko?

"How are you, big sister?" he asked cheerfully. "What have you been doing all day?"

"Nuriko?" Miaka asked blankly.

Kourin looked between her sister, who looked startled, and her new friend Miaka, who looked as if she'd just been slapped with a stunned mullet, and commented, "I take it you've already met."

Nuriko recovered first. Smoothly she nodded. "You could say that... Miss Miaka, this is my twin sister, Kourin. Kourin, this is Yuuki Miaka, the Priestess of Suzaku."
 

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