Hello everyone,
Here is ch. 7.
As a person, I am often subject to fits of depression.
One hit me right in the middle of this chapter, and it
came perilously close to being abandoned (and all of
Starlit Reflections with it). Fortunately, two very
nice emails arrived right at my darkest point,
bolstering my self confidence.
So, because it owes its existence to them, this
chapter is dedicated to Lady Quicksilver and Morgan
Hudson. Thank you both, so very much.
Please enjoy Chapter Seven!
Raye
=====
raye_j@yahoo.com
http://members.xoom.com/Raye01
Everyone is a philosopher.
Some people just get paid.
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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: SR7.txt
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Starlit Reflections
by Raye Johnsen
raye_j@yahoo.com
**********
Fushigi Yuugi is copyright Watase Yuu, Flower Comics, Studio
Perriot, Pioneer Entertainment and Viz Communications.
All comments and C&C are very welcome at raye_j@yahoo.com. All
flames will be returned to the sender after going through spell-
and grammar- check, always provided I don't show them to the
Shishiseishi first...
**********
Chapter Seven: Flame Ascendant
**********
Dawn.
Recently, the morning had heralded boring classes, aching
hands, expended effort and blazing eyeaches as she tried to study
late into the night. Lessons, lessons and preparing for the high
school exam.
Was Jonan really worth all this effort? Mum was determined
that she would make it, but... Miaka herself couldn't feel that
Jonan's stripe was as valuable as Yotsubadai's tartan. Oh, it
*was* the best school in the city, but Miaka certainly wasn't the
best *student*!
/Let's be honest here - I'll never make more than an OL,
even if I managed to get to university. For me, what's important
isn't study, but my friends. I'll only know Yui-chan at Jonan,
and she's only going so I won't be alone. All my friends are
going to Yotsubadai./
Miaka rolled over, finding herself facing Nuriko. The older
girl was lying on her back, breathing evenly as the sunlight
tickled her nose.
Propping herself up on her elbows, Miaka watched her
sleeping Shishiseishi.
/If I stay here, I'd be their honoured Priestess. Anything
I said would be listened to, anything I wanted could be mine./
Such an insidious little thought! /I don't have to go home./
Miaka shook her head. /No! I can't be their Priestess. This
is all an accident. I have to go home; I have to study and take
those exams!/
She hopped out of her futon, leaving the covers in disarray
behind her. "Nuriko?" she called.
"Nuriko." A louder try, right in her ear, didn't work
either.
Shaking the other girl's shoulder produced a sleepy
"Was'r'ma'er, Kourin?"
"It's me, Miaka, and it's MORNING!" Suzaku no Miko chimed,
climbing onto Nuriko's futon.
Nuriko peered out from beneath her blanket. Dawn.
Delightful. After the night she'd just had? The robin outside the
window was definitely *dead* as soon as she managed to remaster
muscular co-ordination.
"So it is," she said flatly, in the same tone as one might
say "it's a dead rat".
"Come on, don't be a grumblegrouch! It's a bright new day!"
Miaka chirped.
Giving in more-or-less gracefully to the inevitable, Nuriko
sat up. "It is *not* a bright new day," she informed Miaka. "We
have those soldiers from Koutou still out there."
"But you guys beat them up!" Miaka smiled happily.
"We *beat them up*, yes," Nuriko replied. "But we *didn't*
kill them. Which means they can come back." She rubbed the
bandage on her arm absently. "In fact, I think we'd better count
on it."
She wriggled into a sitting-up position and moved her legs
out over the edge of the pallet, hissing as her warm bare toes
touched cold bare floorboards. Nuriko quickly pulled her feet
back beneath the warm coverlet. /Hurry up, summer!/ Early spring
mornings were terribly cold before the sun warmed the world.
There were always reports of poorer people dying of cold around
this time of year, as they put aside their winter stuffs too
early.
Miaka suddenly looked up with a thoughtful expression.
"They're not, though, are they?" she said quietly. "They're
looking for three young men and a girl in odd clothes. They
wouldn't be looking for four boys, would they?"
Nuriko blinked and then nodded. "That's true."
The younger girl padded quickly over to the corner where the
saddlebags had been thrown. Snatching them up, she hurried to
Nuriko's bed, clambering onto the covers and sticking her feet
under them.
"AAARGH!! Not *there*! My ankle is not a hot brick!"
"Come on! I got the clothes, you can at least let me warm
my feet!"
"Not on *me*!"
The two girls wriggled and rolled about the bed, warming
themselves up as one tried to evade the other's cold touch. Miaka
started to giggle when she almost rolled off the futon the second
time. Her chuckles proved infectious. Nuriko began to laugh as
she almost rolled off the other side.
Eventually the pair lay side by side, just laughing, as the
sunlight finally began to warm the room.
"You," Nuriko finally panted, "are awful."
Miaka laughed. "So everybody tells me." She sat up and
picked up the saddlebags from the floor beside the pallet, where
they had rolled after she'd kicked them. With a glance at Nuriko
for permission, she shook out the first saddlebag. They both
stared at the contents.
Finally Nuriko said, in a very flat voice, "I'm going to
*kill* Kourin when we get home."
Miaka lifted up the beautiful purple satin sash. "Why?"
"Because this is *Houki's* dress. Because she's got no right
to be going through my wardrobe! And because she stuck it in here
when I wasn't looking! Deliberately!"
Picking up the delicate lavender and lilac fabrics of the
dress, Miaka carefully set it to one side. "It could come in
useful," she offered.
Nuriko frowned. "I don't see how. You're smaller than me;
it'd look really odd if you tried to wear it. Trailing draperies
aren't fashionable this year, so we can't try and pull that
off...."
"Not for me, for *you*," Miaka tried to explain the idea
that had flashed across her mind when she'd first seen the dress.
"They're not looking for two girls and two boys either."
Nuriko stared at her. "You mean...."
Miaka swallowed. "I'm not always the most brilliant person,"
she admitted. "Not like my friend Yui-chan. But I'm not an idiot,
and I know you'd be nervous, because you're not just being a
girl. You'd be being *you*, and you haven't been that before."
She grimaced. "I know I'm not explaining it right... but you can
trust us. We're all friends. You can be Houki with us."
She pulled at the other garments lying on the bed, picking
up what looked like a long t-shirt made of linen. "I can wear
this-"
Nuriko hastily snatched the undergarment out of her hands.
"*No!*" Calming down a little and picking up one of her tunics,
she repeated, "No, you can't wear my undershirt. For one thing,
you'd attract *more* attention! Try this instead. And we can try
doing your hair like *this*...."
********
Hotohori shook his hair out of his eyes for the umpteenth
time that morning.
/Who would've thought pomade was so necessary?/ he thought,
playing with his spoon.
What was keeping Nuriko and Miaka? He'd woken to the peals
of their laughter, his Miko's delicate silver glissando met and
matched to his best friend's golden chimes. Lying in the warm
blankets, he'd listened to their voices as he slowly awoke to
full consciousness, their conversation too muffled by the wall
to comprehend.
He'd seen them going into the women's side of the inn's
bath-house as he'd left the men's side. Tamahome had bathed and
dressed more quickly than he had, and now was sitting across the
table from him. However, unlike Hotohori, Tamahome was actually
*eating* the rice porridge the inn supplied as breakfast.
It wasn't such bad stuff, he supposed. It was just... so...
*plebeian*. He was the Emperor and he was used to breakfasting on
a delicately prepared meal of sweet rice and savoury meats. A
bowl of porridge, seasoned with cinnamon and with dried apple
pieces chopped into it, was somewhat of a step down.
But it *did* smell good....
Hotohori surrendered to the inevitable and took a spoonful.
The porridge was plain fare, but very well cooked, and he finally
began to eat.
So it was that both young men were busily eating as Miaka
and Nuriko approached.
Miaka, typically, forgot her role as shepherdess as soon as
she smelt the food. "Is that breakfast? Did you get me a bowl?"
she asked, sitting down beside Tamahome.
Hotohori lifted his hand to signal to the server. "Where is
Nuriko?" he asked.
"Behind you. Mmm, that smells wonderful," Miaka replied,
focussed almost exclusively on breakfast.
Tamahome and Hotohori turned and looked up, freezing. It was
a good thing for both of them that they were between mouthfuls.
"Good morning," Houki said nervously. The layers of her
dress were graduated shades of purple, from the soft light
lavender of the ruffle of the undergown at her neck to the deep
royal purple of her sash. Her hair was pulled back from her face
with lilac ribbons, tied loosely into two loops and then left to
flow in a silken purple waterfall down her back. Beneath the
ensemble peeped little purple shoes.
Hotohori frowned. He'd been doing so well, forgetting that
Nuriko was - wasn't -
Then she rubbed her arm as she glanced down, and he
remembered the way she'd dived across the clearing the night
before to block the soldier's blade. *That* had been his best
friend.
The court beauty who had suddenly appeared before them
smiled at them uncertainly, then stepped to take a seat beside
Hotohori. He suddenly remembered his manners and helped her seat
herself. Both youths tactfully ignored the slight trouble she had
managing her full skirts.
Tamahome finally found his voice. "Um.. why?"
Nuriko smiled. "It was Miaka's idea. She suggested that the
soldiers from Koutou will be looking for a party of three young
men and a girl - not a Court Princess, her companion and two
young men."
The server arrived at their table. Nuriko ordered a bowl of
porridge, and had the shock of watching the server stare and
stutter as he repeated her order. Miaka ordered three, which made
him stutter for a different reason.
Hotohori watched as the boy wove his way through the half-
empty room, then he returned his attention to his breakfast
companions.
"I really don't like this idea of yours," Tamahome was
telling Nuriko. "Even at home we'd heard of the bandits of Mt.
Leikaku. You don't take girls into bandit territory!"
"It was *my* idea," Miaka interjected.
Tamahome disregarded her. "And how can you fight in all
those layers anyway? You look like a *girl*."
Nuriko glared at him. "I *am* a girl, you peasant. And I can
fight just fine. In fact," she said, standing up, "I'd be happy
to demonstrate on you. Right now."
"You will sit down and wait for your breakfast. And you,
Tamahome, will shut up," Hotohori commanded.
"But, Lord Hotohori -"
"But, Hotohori -"
"I'm not listening," the Emperor of Konan commanded in his
best obey-me-or-else tone.
The other two glared at each other, but did as they were
told. Fortunately for everyone's temper, the server (a different
one to the one that had taken the order) arrived with four bowls
of porridge. He watched as Miaka claimed and began to devour
three of the four.
"Is something wrong?" Tamahome asked him.
The man swallowed audibly. "Oh, no, sir," he replied. "I'm
the cook. When the order arrived, I thought it was unusual, so
I thought I'd check to make sure it wasn't a mistake."
"Well, as you can see, it wasn't," Nuriko told him kindly.
"There are no problems," Hotohori added dismissively. This
time the man took the hint and excused himself.
Hotohori took a spoonful of his own porridge. "We need a
plan."
Nuriko glanced over her shoulder at him. "I thought Miaka's
plan was pretty good. We pretend to be an ordinary party
travelling through the mountains."
"Yes, but what are we?" Hotohori replied. "If you're a
spoiled noblewoman and Miaka your companion, what are Tamahome
and I?"
"Our husbands?" Miaka offered between mouthfuls.
Tamahome and Hotohori flushed. "NO!" they chorused.
Nuriko gave a deep, theatrical sigh. "Oh, woe is me!" she
cried. "My true love hath rejected me!" She looked up, meeting
Miaka's eyes, and winked.
Somehow, that made Hotohori more uncomfortable. This...
*girl* was acting like Nuriko... but of course, she *was*
Nuriko....
He coughed to cover his moment of hesitation. "I was
thinking... guards. Most wealthy women do go out riding with
guards."
Nuriko stared at him for a second with her twitchy smile,
the one she wore when she was trying not to laugh, curving her
lips.
"All right, what have I said?"
"Nothing, your Majesty," she replied, deceptively demure.
"You're perfectly correct. Some wealthy women do... ride... with
guards. And they do not marry them."
Miaka stared at Nuriko, while the two men looked at each
other. "I don't get it either," Tamahome complained.
Nuriko finally gave in to the giggles. "You three are so
*innocent*," she laughed. And that was all she would say.
*********
Their four horses had been led out by the stablegirl, and
Miaka, Tamahome and Hotohori mounted up with no problems.
Nuriko approached Chika, preparing to swing up into the
saddle. Chika, however, wasn't prepared to let just anybody up
on *her* back. She huffed and backed off.
"It's me, Chika," Nuriko attempted to reassure the mare.
Chika remained un-reassured and refused to come any nearer.
Tamahome, safely astride Hikaru, leaned over. "Back when
this journey started, I saw the stableman offer her some fruit,"
he offered.
Nuriko looked over at the girl who'd led the horses out. She
grinned sheepishly and pulled some pieces of dried apple out of
her pocket. "It's an old trick, to make a horse pay attention,"
she muttered.
Nuriko accepted the apple pieces. "Thank you," she replied
and held them out to the mare.
Chika proved as vulnerable to a sweet as any other horse,
trotting up to accept the treat from her mistress' hand as though
she'd never dreamt of misbehaving. After eating, she sniffed at
the hand outstretched under her nose. Then she began to snuffle
lightly at her mistress.
"Yes, it's me, you silly horse," Nuriko muttered. Chika
ignored her and continued to inspect Nuriko's skirts. Finally,
with a final "Whuff!", she finished her inspection of the
unfamiliar purple figure and allowed Nuriko to mount her.
Nuriko stared around at her fellow travellers. "Not one
word," she told them.
***********
"Not one word until I've finished," Captain Youji told his
men. "We badly underestimated the enemy last night." His gaze
swept the remnants of his squad. "Now we have two choices. We can
attempt to take those children again - or we can return to Koutou
and admit failure to Lord Tomo."
The sergeant stood. "Beggin' the Captain's pardon," he
began, "but that ain't no choice. I got broken ribs an', 'cording
to that 'ealer, I'm gonna be walkin' with a crutch for three
month'n more. I can't take down those kids, no way."
Youji's lip curled. "Perhaps you misunderstood me. If we go
home, we will have to face *Lord Tomo*."
The squad, including the sergeant, paled.
Nodding grimly, Youji continued. "Frankly, given my
druthers, we'd be on our way home by now. But the Seiryuu no
Shishiseishi sent us to do this. And I do not want to face the
consequences of presenting Lord Tomo or Lord Miboshi with
failure."
The lieutenant stood, with difficulty. After being propelled
into a tree the night before, he had some rather severe back
injuries. "So what do we do, sir?"
The young captain sighed and rubbed the knot on his skull,
then hissed as his fingers encountered the bruise that overlay
the bump. "The only thing we can do," he replied, wincing. "We
find them again."
***********
/Damn!/ Genrou swore to himself. /I *know* the entry's
around here *somewhere*! Now if only I can find those damn rocks
again.../ He ran a hand through his flaming hair, setting his
long, elegant new earrings a-jangling.
Taichou was dead.
That was all he had really thought, as soon as the news had
arrived. The leader of the Mt. Leikaku bandits had died, and now
leadership had been taken by Eiken.
/That fat slug, how dare he.../ he fumed, deliberately
blocking out his grief. /What the hell does Kouji think he's
playing at, letting it happen?/
As far as the world was concerned, Hakurou had collapsed of
a sudden illness. Genrou knew better. Taichou had been failing
for some time; that was why he was on this stupid damn trip in
the first place, getting the fucking *medicines* so that...
Taichou....
He scrubbed at his eyes with one forearm. He was not crying.
He was *not*. Taichou was his teacher, his boss, everything he
aspired to be. Taichou hadn't cried, not even when the pain had
been at its worst. So *he* couldn't cry now.
Genrou finally spotted the entrance to the secret tunnel
that led to the pagoda on the mountain. It had proven too small
to hold all the bandits over twenty years before, so the larger
base had been built below it. It had not been used for several
years before Hakurou had claimed it for his private retreat, so
all the hidden exits, entrances and little surprises a bandit
hideout holds had fallen out of the troupe's general knowledge.
Genrou privately believed that the only people who now knew them
all were himself, Kouji and - Taichou....
It would be a good place to hole up while he observed a bit
and worked out exactly what the hell was going on. Eiken'd have
him killed the second he set foot inside the base if he just
blundered in. Everybody knew Taichou had been grooming Genrou and
Kouji to take over the leadership; if Eiken had managed to make
his claim stick over Kouji's, that meant he had some powerful
shit hanging over the rest of the guys. Genrou had a sick feeling
that he knew *exactly* what the 'shit' was.
/Figures that a fucker like Eiken'd be able to do it when
it never even dribbled sparks for Kouji,/ he thought grimly,
climbing up the tunnel.
The pagoda's interior was dark and musty. Although there was
no dust and no cobwebs, Genrou had the terribly depressing
feeling that it was only a matter of time before the small house
fell back to disuse.
He quietly prowled the hall he had chased Kouji up and down
and had been chased in turn, until Taichou had stumbled out of
his bedroom, yelling at them that true bandits don't give their
victims two hours warning by sounding like a herd of rampaging
elephants....
He peered into the small bedroom he and Kouji had shared,
the times Taichou had let them stay the night, when they'd been
too excited to sleep and had nattered away like a pair of old
wives until Taichou had thumped on the wall to tell them to shut
up....
He stood in the small kitchen, brushing his fingers over the
bench, remembering the times he and Taichou had been standing
there. He could almost hear the older man's voice:
'Twelve years old and you don't know how to cook? We'll have
to fix that....'
/We did, didn't we, Taichou?/ Genrou thought. He moved to
the table and sat down. Laying his head on his folded arms, he
couldn't repress his tears anymore, any more than he could
repress the thought that every son, untimely bereft of his
father, has thought.
/Taichou, why did you leave me?/
*******
"I am going," Nuriko said, unnaturally calm, "to ride off
and leave you behind, if you *don't stop hovering*!"
Hotohori frowned and reined Takehito back. Tamahome and
Miaka were already a half-furlong ahead. "We're passing through
the mountains of Mt. Leikaku," he pointed out reasonably. "As a
young lady of virtue -"
"I'm *so* glad you noticed -"
"What on *earth* is wrong with you?!" Hotohori finally
snapped. "You have been absolutely unbearable! One minute you're
making jokes, the next you're snapping our heads off!"
Nuriko dropped her head and looked ashamed. "I need my tea,"
she muttered.
"Tea? What does tea have to do with anything?"
She flushed but replied resolutely, "I'll make a cup at
lunch and I'll be better this afternoon. I'm sorry."
Hotohori watched, puzzled, as she rode to catch up with
Miaka and Tamahome. /Nuriko needs tea in the morning. I'll
remember that./ Touching his heels to Takehito's sides, he rode
to catch up to the enigma that had replaced his best friend.
********
The seven somewhat-mobile men who now made up the Fifteenth
Squad (Detached) of the Third Koutou Army watched the group of
four young people who dismounted from their horses and prepared
to enter the small inn that stood beside the road.
"Are you sure that's them?" the captain asked again.
"I'm sure, captain," the sergeant replied. "Them's th' same
'orses, an' the lad who 'it you 'ad long purple 'air. Dressin'
'im as a lass was a smart move. It might've worked if they didn't
'ave such easy-to-remember 'orses."
Captain Youji stood up and gestured the rest of the squad
close. "All right," he said grimly. "This is it. We'll never get
a better chance than when they're eating and their guard's down.
Get yourselves and your weapons ready and prepare to attack."
***********
When the small inn appeared on the side of the road,
Tamahome was suspicious. The inn they had started from was
surrounded by little houses and faced onto a small square, where
some stalls had been set up with housewives selling fresh bread
and milk and vegetables to one another. The smell of the fresh
bake had been delicious as they had ridden out that morning.
This inn, however, had no such cluster of homes to provide
a local clientele nearby. It had to draw its support solely from
travellers on the road. This would not be unusual - if it was not
so close to the previous inn. Most travellers would bypass a
lunch stop or eat in the open if they had eaten under cover the
night before. Either the next inn was a full day's travel away
- which Tamahome devoutly hoped was *not* the case - or it was
not reliant on the road at all. But if it was not reliant on the
road....
Tamahome did not want to think about what might be
supporting it instead.
However, it didn't seem to be anything other than what it
appeared to be, and Tamahome relaxed. Ordering their meal proved
remarkably simple. Miaka had held up Lord Hotohori's money pouch
and blithely told the cook, "One of everything!"
Hotohori had wandered outside as the meal had been cooked.
Miaka had followed him, and Tamahome hadn't been able to stop
himself drifting after.
Hotohori was sitting on a rock at the edge of the road, and
Miaka was sitting beside him.
"It's romantic, don't you think?" a soft voice murmured in
his ear. Tamahome looked down to see Nuriko watching the scene
beside him. The girl had an odd expression on her face. He
frowned. As soon as they stopped, Nuriko had immediately asked
the kitchen to brew her a cup of a tea she'd had. It hadn't
arrived yet, and Tamahome resolved to tread *very* warily until it
did. "A little *too* romantic, I really do think."
Tamahome laid his hand on her shoulder. "Wait," he said.
"Let's get closer."
As the two drifted closer, the conversation became audible.
"... even with Nuriko's friendship," Hotohori was saying.
"I've been like a bird in a cage."
Miaka stretched. "If that's the case, then fly from now on!
Anywhere you want to. You're still young!"
Hotohori reached out around Miaka's shoulder and pulled her
close, his shoulder cushioning hers. "What a nice girl you are,"
he breathed. "Always so cheerful... free and warm-hearted."
Tamahome felt an odd wrench in his chest at the sight of
Hotohori holding Miaka so very tenderly. Beside him, Nuriko
hissed in a breath and stepped forward towards the touching
scene. He grabbed her quickly around the torso, but not before
she'd stepped on a loose branch. The <crack> of breaking wood
caught the pair on the rock's attention, and they turned to see
Nuriko struggling in Tamahome's grip, while he stared at them,
his expression hostile in it's complete blankness.
"Whatever is wrong, Nuriko? Tamahome?" Hotohori asked.
Tamahome released Nuriko, who lost her balance with the
sudden lack of support and crashed heavily to the ground.
"Nothing, Majesty," Tamahome said flatly. "I believe lunch is
ready."
"Lunch?! Hooray! Hooray!" yelled Miaka, racing ahead. She
tripped suddenly on a length of rope she hadn't seen earlier. It
pulled and a panel of logs came swinging down out of one of the
trees.
"MIAKA!!" the three Shishiseishi yelled, leaping forward.
Miaka herself stood transfixed, as a rabbit under the gaze of the
python. Tamahome reached her first, flinging himself between the
inexplicably lonesome building supplies and his Miko, with the
end result that it scooped both of them up, slamming both Miaka
and Tamahome into involuntary slumber.
Nuriko reached their fallen bodies next. She spun to face
Hotohori, shock scribbled over her face, and thus missed the
sight of the second wall swinging down behind her.
Hotohori didn't. He lunged at his friend desperately, hoping
to bear her down and let the wall pass over the top of them.
Unfortunately he was just a little slow - so he was treated to
the sight of Nuriko's eyes glazing over into unconsciousness just
before he slammed into her body against the wall. The presence
of her flesh between the wood and himself meant Hotohori remained
conscious as the pair of them went flying through the air. It was
the impact against the ground that sent him into insensibility.
**********
The squad of Koutou soldiers watched as the party they had
been following was laid low by a series of sudden booby-traps. The
trees suddenly disgorged hard-faced men, who silently began to
truss up and carry away the teenagers' unconscious bodies.
Captain Kouji uttered a quiet oath. Not quietly enough,
though.
"Well, well, well, and what do we have here?" a laconic voice
asked behind them. As one they all swung around, to face a small
group of the same men, led by a long, lean fellow with bushy
purple hair. "Why, it appears to be a detachment of enemy
soldiers! Whatever shall we do with them, Kouji? I think we should
beat them into insensibility for tracking *our* prey! What a good
idea! Let's do that!"
The squad could only stare at the man, who apparently was
fond of extended conversations with himself, as he and his
followers descended upon them, suiting their actions to their
leader's words.
**********
Eiken rubbed his hands together in glee as the news was
brought to him. Four rich travellers had walked straight into
their trap! And three of them were luscious young maidens! Tossing
back the rest of the wine he'd been drinking without the benefit
of a glass, he grinned at the prospect.
Kouji stared at the drunken slug who had replaced Taichou.
/He probably thinks he looks regal draped over that chair. He
looks like a perversion of Buddha./ If only *he'd* been able to
use it, this would never have been.
Eiken blinked and an ingenuous expression grew upon his
face. "After dinner... send me one of the girls we captured this
afternoon. Pick me a sweet one, you know what I like," Eiken
leered.
/Taichou would *never* have touched any girls we captured.
Let them go unharmed, just robbed, was *his* order./ "As you
command," Kouji mouthed.
"That's right: as I command," Eiken smirked. "You may go,
Kouji."
He couldn't get away from that excretion of a human fast
enough. Leaning against the outer wall, Kouji took a deep breath
to clear his lungs of Eiken's stench.
/Damn it, Genrou! When the hell are you gonna get home and
fry this bastard's arse?/
**********
Genrou inched closer to the window, careful to keep silent.
"You may go, Kouji," he heard Eiken say. There was no reply,
just the sound of someone leaving.
Fucking hell! If Kouji was just doing what he was told like
this, then Eiken must really have it, and he must've used it -
probably when he was establishing control.
/How many of *my men* has that bastard killed? I'm gonna
wring every single one of 'em out of his motherfuckin' hide./
Eiken began to chuckle, even though the room was empty. "You
want him to come back, don't'cha? Every-fucking-one wanted Genrou
as the next Taichou, and ol' Eiken'd remain down the bottom
f'rever. Well, I showed ya all, didn't I? Bastards."
There was the sound of a chair moving back, then the soft
ruffle of cloth sliding aside. Then Eiken began to speak again.
"Even *you* wanted him. But I made you mine. You're mine,
you steel bitch. Your fire's mine. Your fire'll burn y'r precious
Genrou the second he gets back. You're *mine*, not his. *Mine.*"
Genrou had heard enough. He slipped away into the darkness
as Eiken began to rant about how everything he had ever wanted
was now his and he would never let anyone strip it from him.
*********
Miaka felt as though she was swimming through gluggy
semolina. Her eyelids were made of lead. She couldn't seem to get
them open.
Finally forcing her eyes open, she blinked as she took in
the changed surroundings. Instead of being outside, now she and
her three companions lay, bound and gagged, in a small,
windowless chamber.
"Uhhhhh," a soft sigh echoed beneath her ear, and Miaka sat
up suddenly as she realized the pillow she was so inelegantly
sprawled over was Tamahome's chest. She watched anxiously through
her own pounding headache as he blinked his way slowly awake.
Hotohori and Nuriko were still out of it. They had been tied
back-to-back and flung into the cell with no regard for how they
landed. They were collapsed into one heap in the corner. Nuriko's
purple dress was definitely the worse for wear.
After half an hour of silent waiting, Hotohori began to
revive, and a quarter of an hour later, Nuriko's eyelids began
to flutter.
So they sat, for hour after hour, waiting in enforced
silence for their captors to remember them.
*********
Kouji opened the door to the hostage chamber. Four pairs of
eyes stared silently back at him. Normally he would feel fear from
the occupants of this room. This time, however, he almost jumped
at the aura of sheer, palpable rage that emanated from the people
in front of him.
He looked over the three girls. The one with long purple hair
would never do. Although undeniably lovely, she was also mature,
with an adult form. Eiken, with his Lolita Complex, would refuse
her on sight. Her rage simmered in her lovely eyes; if he took her
to Eiken, she might very well take care of their boss for them.
And he might very well incinerate her out of self-
preservation. Kouji was a bandit, not a murderer.
The one with the golden brown hair and golden eyes was also
out. Although she was underdeveloped when compared to the first,
she was taller and, if possible, angrier. Eiken wouldn't wait for
her to even try to kill him before striking back.
That left the third. She was quite pretty, although not as
lovely as the others, and her wide green eyes held bewilderment
rather than anger. She was also much the youngest, which would
also please Eiken.
"Our leader wants a girl for the evening. You're pretty, so
I'll pick you," he told her, uncharacteristically short.
Kouji had expected a range of emotions - apprehension, fear,
disgust even. He was not prepared for the anger in the room to
simply increase.
He stepped in and untied her gag. The girl blinked her big
green eyes at him and said, "All right."
The anger in the room promptly vanished, and *now* the
bewilderment took hold. Kouji wasn't excepted, either. A girl
*wanting* to be ravished??
He untied her hands, and she promptly hopped over to the
other two women, untying their gags.
"Miaka, you can't!" said the purple-haired one.
"I have to!" the other girl, Miaka, returned. "One of these
men might have a character on his body! I have to check! Please
behave yourselves while I do, all right?"
They definitely did not look not look happy as they agreed.
/A character on his body?/ Kouji leaned closer. That sounded
familiar... now, if only he could remember from *where*....
She hopped over to Kouji. "Well, come on!" she told him.
He belatedly remembered her legs, untying the ropes that
bound her ankles, and then led her out the door.
Some of the other bandits were hanging around outside the
door. "Can we have the other two, Kouji?" one asked.
He glanced back at the door. "Sure," Kouji said. "But treat
'em the way Taichou did. Genrou's comin' back an' I don't wanna
see you fried for following Eiken's ways."
The bandit gave him a 'do-you-*think*-I'm-an-idiot' look.
"Nobody follows that fat boar further than he can see - which
ain't far," he returned, to coarse laughter from his fellows.
Kouji grinned in return, turning to lead Miaka to Eiken's chamber.
*********
Miaka wasn't sure what she was expecting from the bandit
leader - more style, perhaps? - but she was distinctly unimpressed
with what she encountered.
The bandit leader was a grossly overweight figure, sprawled
on a raised platform scattered with cushions. His expression was
insipid and his body pasty.
"Ooh, you are a nice one," he leered. "Well done, Kouji. You
can go now."
Kouji withdrew and Miaka was left alone with the bandit
leader. Oddly, though, she wasn't frightened. It didn't seem
possible to be frightened of this fat, ugly old man.
"Take your clothes off," he ordered.
"Have you got a character on your body?" Miaka asked, not
really listening.
"Haemorrhoids? No," Eiken replied, mishearing her. "I think
some of the boys have, but it ain't somethin' you talk about. Come
on, take that skirt off."
Miaka grabbed his arm and pulled up his sleeve, inspecting
the flesh there. "Not a haemorroid, a *character*," she replied
impatiently. "You know, a kanji! Do you have one on your body?"
"No! Come on-"
"Do any of the other bandits?"
Eiken scratched at his chin. "Tasuki did, I think... but
that's not important right now. Get yer-"
"Tasuki did? Where's Tasuki?! Can you call him here now?"
Eiken couldn't believe his ears. What was this girl
thinking?! "Look, you ain't here to quiz me. You're here for me to
fuck, so get yer clothes off now!" He grabbed her arm and shoved
her down onto the dais.
Just then a number of things happened in a flurry of
activity. Miaka never did get them all straight.
Hotohori, Nuriko and Tamahome burst into the room, shrieking.
As they were all shrieking different things, Miaka wasn't able to
distinguish any one yell. However, the glares they turned on Eiken
were eloquent enough: I'm pissed, prepare to die.
Kouji the ambivalent bandit had followed them in, apparently
to watch the carnage. He wasn't saying anything.
Suddenly a strange hand grabbed her arm and Miaka found
herself being hauled roughly onto a set of broad shoulders.
"So, Eiken, you're claiming to be the leader, huh?" a loud
baritone voice demanded. "Don't make me laugh! Taichou intended
*me* to be the next leader and you know it! I'm taking your woman
now - when I come back, I'll take your place!"
The last thing Miaka saw of the bandit's hideout was the lit
window as her captor leapt away, and the last thing she heard was
her Shishiseishi's cry.
"MIAAAAKAAAA!!!"
**********
Author's Notes:
1. Pomade was a type of oil manufactured from many different
ingredients that was used on the hair to keep it in a given style.
Last sold in the early twentieth century, it was replaced by our
modern styling gels, mousses, waxes and hairsprays. A given pomade
would scent and colour the hair, according to the formula of the
pomade; many wealthy people would create private formulae for
their own personal use.
2. Although I personally dislike the excessive use of
Japanese in fanfics, I chose to use the Japanese word 'taichou',
meaning 'leader', to indicate Hakurou, the previous (and now
deceased) leader of the bandits. This was for two reasons:
i. Both Tasuki and Kouji had a father-son relationship with
Hakurou. For them to just call him 'Leader', although
technically correct, did not carry the emotional
overtone.
ii. Hakurou has held in very high esteem by all his
followers - esteem that Eiken was not held in. It seems
logical that the group would develop two different
terms for the two.
3. Haemorrhoids and characters: Don't blame me for this one!
It's in the original! In Japanese, the word for 'haemorrhoid' and
the word for 'character' are pronounced similarly. (And they talk
about the sick jokes *pathologists* make...)
4. Lolita Complex - the name given to the psychological
condition of an adult man who is attracted to pre-pubescent or
just-pubescent girls. Men with Lolita Complexes are also known as
child molesters. The name comes from the 1950's novel 'Lolita',
about a man with this condition and no self-control.