Chapter Text
“Anyone who wishes to be heard publicly must consider his listeners well, especially those whom it is most important that he please.”
Johann Joachim Quantz, Treatise on Flute Playing, 1752
Chapter XVI “What a Flutist Must Observe If He Plays in Public Concerts”
“... intelligent musicians will without my advice accommodate themselves to their listeners and to the amateurs, not only to earn more easily the respect befitting their skill, but also to ingratiate themselves.”
Chapter XIV “Of the Manner of Playing the Adagio”
~*~
I have known for a long time that I am the only one who can save the world. There were supposed to be eight of us, but nobody else is even trying, and I'm the only one who cares. Kutou is on the path of destruction, and something has to be done.
I don't know what kind of man I am. I have high ideals, and my reason tells me that they can't come true, but my heart just can't stop hoping... hoping for appalling, vengeful things. Someday the people who robbed us of everything will be punished, and then nobody will suffer again.
Our journey hadn't been very long, but we hadn't been given horses or a map or anything--just sent off into the woods without any instructions on how to find them or what they looked like. Nakago hadn't even told me their names or their social status. I needn't have worried, though--they were almost too easy to find. They were so obvious--they didn't try to mask their chi or anything!--that we spent a few days hovering, making sure that it wasn't a trap.
My clothes were torn up, I hadn't bathed--though I'd been in and out of several rainstorms--and I had what I feared were permanent soot smudges from the fire on my cheeks and elbows. (How does one get soot on one's elbows?, you ask. I don't know. ¬It gets everywhere.) I pretty much looked exactly as I was supposed to, but being forced to look that way as a result of tramping through the woods was not as satisfying as deliberately looking that way, and I was irritated.
I didn't matter to anyone but me, of course. I smiled and blinked and said nothing to the man with me. I didn't feel like talking to him, so we didn't talk. He just did whatever I, in as few words as possible, suggested. It was uncomfortable, being treated like the superior of someone so much older than I was, someone who'd spent so much time working on his skills.
I wanted him to think--because I want everyoneto think--that I'm confident, poised, responsible, good... all the things I'm not, but wish I were. I want to please everyone, and so I just act the way I figure people want me to act.
My companion did most of the watching. That made more sense, anyway. And though I was curious about them--Where did the swordsman gain such an authoritative air? Why was that beautiful girl's chi so weird?--it was better that I stay where I couldn't be seen. Mostly I stayed at a distance, careful to play a tune that would entwine with the miko's chi and be audible just to her. Her chi was abundant and boring.
I got to know them a little, though. The swordsman seemed as though he were in charge; I sort of wistfully envied his grace. His chi was all coiled and carefully guarded, and I was envious of that, too. The beautiful girl did the heavy lifting and doted on the swordsman--she had lots of energy but was fairly relaxed. There was a very imposing, silent one that kept his chi even, and there was a loud one, dressed like a mountain bandit, with erratic chi. The miko was pretty, with lots of energy, but she seemed troublesome. She also seemed easily moved by other people's pain--which made it easier to decide who I wanted Chiriko to be.
They were very unprotected, but I was too tired and disheartened to laugh at them.
We chose an evening. Well, Ichose the evening. Then I slept during the day before it because I didn't want to think about what was going to happen. Usually I worry about plans, but... I just didn't want to think about it. I woke up in the early evening and went to my companion. I wanted to say something, but what was there to be said? I said nothing.
I left him alone and perched in a tree not so far away, waiting until the lights in the little house had gone out. Then I played the same tune, calling for her, commanding her to come.
She obeyed, of course, trotting outside the house like a baby animal that's all curiosity and no fear, and I commanded the bats to attack. The tune I played for them was nearly ¬silent, pitched very high, and shrouded in chi; although I knew intimately the sounds I brought forth, I couldn't hear them, so I doubt any other human ears could.
It had taken me several nights to gather so many of the creatures. There must have been hundreds. I thought bats would be a good choice because they are night creatures that smell bad and have disgusting-looking wings, and also because, frankly, they terrify me.
She screamed. She screamed a lot. I felt so sorry for her. I wondered if I would have screamed if I were in her place, but I decided that I wouldn't have been able to move or make any noise at all. I probably would have just covered my face and let them pass by as I let everything else pass by.
My companion played his part well--it was convincing even to me. He was really good at a lot of things, it seemed, so it was too bad about him. I didn't want to know his name or anything about him, but I couldn't help noticing that he was extremely competent. I reminded myself to ask Suboshi to request that his family receive a commendation, but who knows what actually gets done at that palace? Most of the things we ask for don't happen.
“Those fools,” my companion laughed when the swordsman and the outlaw rushed to rescue their priestess and were themselves attacked. “My spells can't be countered so easily.”
He was telling the truth about that anyway--the spell withstood. The seishi who did not have the sword had used a huge burst of fire, which was impressive, but not enough to faze me.
“Now go!” my ally cried, moving his arms as if to command the bats. “Feaston Suzaku no miko!”
Moving closer, I began to play a different tune, and the awful voice silently whispered, Rip apart. The bats threw themselves against the trees until they all fell, dead, to the ground. It wasn't the first time I'd killed, and they aren't the biggest creatures I've killed, but I killed them, all the same, and only I am responsible for their deaths.
It was more like watching a drama than like being in real life. I didn't feel anything. Suzaku no miko, still shrieking, pointed out the rather obvious situation to her seishi. My companion reacted with feigned horror. I drew closer to them, moving through the leaves toward them until I knew they could see me. My eyes were closed.
When I opened them, I locked them onto the eyes of the man I was about to murder.
“You... You bastard!!” he yelled angrily. It's possible that he really was angry.
I squeezed my eyes shut, and I didn't stop. Chi poured out of me in such quantities that I was nearly exhausted, but I didn't dare give any less than everything I had. It takes a lot to convince bodies to stop living--nature makes them avoid self-destruction--and it was absolutely imperative that things go as planned. Nakago had said that they would be suspicious of me; I'd have to rescue them from someone to gain their trust.
“Stop it!” The man sounded furious and afraid. Maybe he really wasfurious and afraid. “My head is... ”
Die , commanded the terrifying, nasty voice in my head. Rip apart.
I drew the flute away from my lips. The melody hadn't resolved, but there was no need for anything more. He laughed in victory and suddenly fell, dead, to the ground at Suzaku no miko's feet.
Do you know what happens when all of the blood in your head starts boiling? It expands. First, it burns all of the soft things inside your body and oozes out through the holes in your head, such as your eyes and nose. If it expands very quickly, it creates enough pressure to burst through the seams of your skull. As you may imagine, this is very painful, and it will kill you.
It also leaves the sort of mess that you wouldn't want to clean up, but if you don't clean it up, maggots grow in it and dogs eat it and it smells awful.
I stood over the remains of the dead man, trying to gather my energy and regain some self-control. All I could do was look down at the girl, who was still panting in terror. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were red, and her robe had been pulled a little to one side. This was the creature I needed to charm.
“So you were the one playing the flute?” she asked.
I held up the instrument and smiled a little. She probably wanted an explanation. “I used my flute to channel my energy into him, and it drove him insane. You’re safe now.”
Then my eyes closed and I collapsed. I hadn’t meant to, really I hadn’t. Only I was so tired.
The man with the sword caught me before I landed on top of Suzaku no miko. He was very gentle as he lowered me to the ground, and as I looked into his face, I realized for the first time that he was not very much older than I was. He was strong, though-- ¬stronger than I am, even though I’m strong and a very fast runner--he was the type that had been well fed since infancy, probably.
Revolting. The only thing worse than a nobleman is a soldier. But this man was too pretty to be truly repulsive to me, which annoyed me a little. I shouldn’t allow my sentiments to be placated by personal appearances.
The other seishi--the loud one, with red hair; the one who had wielded the fire--joined his companions. The three of them had their heads together, peering down at me.
“Hey... Are you all right!?” The girl seemed very concerned.
The one holding me smiled. “Bear up, man!!” he said bracingly.
I sighed, half with exhaustion and half with anxiety. It was terrifying to be helpless in the arms of my enemy.
I shifted a little, so that the torn clothing would reveal the tattoo. I hate that tattoo. It hurt so bad when they put that on--and let me tell you, “just above the hip” is not the toughest place on the body--and tramping through dirty woods and swamps made it take a while to heal. Besides, it’s not mine. And Suboshi doesn’t have one. He’d be pissed if he ever saw it. (When I got it done, I had to hide my chi from him so that it wouldn’t transfer onto his skin. He was worried when he couldn’t contact me, and then he got really mad.)
“It’s... It’s... The seventh Suzaku seishi!!” cried the miko.
I didn’t dare smile, but I could feel some of my fear drain out of my body. I just looked up at her instead. She really did have the sort of face that one could call pretty, and it was kind, anyway. She was probably too stupid to know that she was being used as a pawn.
I prepared myself to lie to her.
“My name is Chiriko,” I said, still a little breathless. Nakago had said he didn’t care what Chiriko was like. So I figured it would be easier to tell lies that were mostly true. “I’m fifteen years old. I lived in a village close to here. Until recently when the Kutou army destroyed it...”
“Leaving you the town’s only survivor,” finished the gentle man sympathetically.
You might think it was overdramatic and literary for him to say something like that, but it wasn’t: that’s just the way things are in Kutou and near its border. Chiriko wouldn’t ¬have been wandering around alone if he’d had anyone left, and the man was aware of this fact. So he’s a nobleman who isn’t totally clueless, I thought. How novel.
“Well, yer safe now,” said the redhead. He looked at the miko. “Let’s take him back to Tamahome’s place.”
She was so excited that she could practically speak. “We did it,” she managed to get out, clasping her hands together in joy. “We’ve gathered all seven Suzaku seishi!”
The two men, working at odds with each other, tried to pick me up.
“No, I can walk... I’m okay.” Being carried places is humiliating.
We managed to work things out so that I was walking on my own feet, supported by the bandit. The nobleman was apparently too noble to do things that the other man could take care of, so he simply walked beside us and said nothing. Suzaku no miko ran circles around us, hopping up and down with joy.
Many people would have said that the Sou family’s little hut was crowded, but it wasn’t, not by reasonable standards anyway. It was me that was wrong to think that there were too many people. It’s just that being around lots of people makes me tired, and they were all new, and I was exhausted already, and I had to spend even more energy than usual trying to watch what I say. It was so tiring.
I was deposited on a bed--the onlybed, and I felt very uncomfortable. I’d deprived an old man of the only soft place he had to sit down.
I sat up and squished myself as far over to one side as I could, so that someone could sit next to me. The miko saw this, climbed up, and crawled over to me, and then she put her arms around me and squeezed. I couldn’t really do anything but look at her with what I’m sure was an odd expression. She laughed.
Oh, no , I thought. I’m going to be molested and then suffocated.
“I’m so glad we found you!!” she cooed. “We have to introduceyou to everybody!” And then she chattered for a long time while conveying very little information. Chiriko would already know the names of the constellations, and thus, I had already studied the names and positions of the constellations, so this was nothing new. I picked up who was who, and that Nuriko was actually a man even though he dressed like a girl (weird!!), but nothing particularly useful. This priestess-girl was too silly for words.
She kept peppering me with questions. She wanted to know my favorite color (white), my favorite book (really, how many people have read enough books to have favorites?), and my favorite food (broccoli).
“Ew,” said Nuriko and Tasuki in unison.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to talk much, because everyone seemed to expect me to be traumatized, and besides, I don’t know when I would have gotten a word in among Nuriko and Tasuki and Miaka bickering. Chiriko, I decided, was going to be reserved. But the office of “silent type” seemed to be filled already. Plus, it didn’t seem very good for gathering information. Maybe I could be “adorably shy yet impetuously curious”?
The first thing to do was to figure out the power strata. Everyone seemed to defer to Hotohori, but he was a lot less commandeering than Nakago, so I wasn’t sure at first whether he was really the one in charge. Everyone pandered to the miko, too, but in a way that seemed more like indulgent condescension than respect. I decided that Hotohori was the more important one to please, but it was clear that the best way to please him was to please Miaka.
Miaka wanted to take my clothes off and mend them, but nobody seemed to think that she’d be able to do a proper job of it, and Hotohori reminded her that they still had a short journey left to the city and suggested that we have my clothes mended there, where there would be something else for me to wear. It wasn’t an act when I sent him a grateful look--I don’t know what I’d have done if someone somehow saw the symbol on my shoulder. Tasuki probably would have tried to kill me right there.
I didn’t feel like saying very much, so I sort of half-closed my eyes and watched and listened. The little house was very busy and noisy, which was comforting. I’d seen Tamahome from a distance when I was still in Kutou, and he’d seemed much too grand for origins like this; it was comforting, somehow, to learn otherwise. The old man and his children smelled like earth and water, and they way they spoke about Tamahome was endearing. The youngest girl was especially charming. She fell asleep on Mitsukake’s knee.
Even if I had to hate Miaka and the Suzaku seishi, I could allow myself to like these people, right? They reminded me of the way my family used to be. I suppose a better person than I would have been overcome by memories and wouldn’t have been able to hold back tears--but I’m cold, and life isn’t that dramatic. At least not usually.
It did make me remember to scratch a couple of parallel lines on my arm, though, so that Suboshi would know that I had succeeded and that I was okay. That thoughtless little idiotimmediately wrote the symbol for “good luck” next to the lines, and I was so pissedat him for a minute that I thought the neutral look on my face was going to shatter, but the symbol faded before anyone saw it, so it ended up being okay, and I forgave him.
I suppose I was boring, because eventually Miaka lost interest in me and fell asleep. She started snoring reallyloud, and Nuriko dragged her back into their room. I suddenly remembered that it was late, and they had all been sleeping.
I slid off the bed and respectfully offered it back to Sou-san, but I wasn’t sure what to do with myself after that. There was a room where the other seishi had been sleeping, but Tasuki was sprawling all over the floor, and Hotohori was pacing back and forth in front of a window, staring moodily at the sky. I looked at Mitsukake and raised an eyebrow.
He smiled wryly and indicated the floor next to him. I sat, hugging my knees to my chest.
Neither of us said anything. There were only the sounds of snoring and heavy sighs. I don’t remember, but I think I must have fallen asleep on his shoulder. (I know, I shouldn’t be so forward, but I guess I’m used to affection, and anyway, it worked well to endear me to my new compatriots.)
I woke up the next morning on the floor, huddled up as close to the wall as possible. Mitsukake’s blanket was draped over me.
I went outside to where the body had been, intending to bury it or at least drag it away to someplace where kids and animals wouldn’t find it. It was gone, though, so I figured that Mitsukake had had the same thought I’d had. I was grateful to him--cleaning up corpses is one of the worst jobs, especially when it’s hot.
It was very early, still gray outside. The only other person who was awake was the oldest boy, the one who looked so much like Tamahome. This was a fact I had observed myself the night before, but for obvious reasons hadn’t been able to voice, so it had been a relief when Miaka said it during the introductions. The boy’s name was Chuuei.
He was by the fire, cooking fish. I went over and blinked at him.
“Good morning, Chiriko-san!” he said. His voice was happy, but very quiet, so as not to wake anyone. “Are you hungry?”
I smiled. “Not particularly,” I said truthfully. Thinking of food first thing in the morning always makes me feel sick. And I didn’t want to eat this family’s fish. The kid probably caught it himself.
I figured he was about twelve or thirteen--old enough to be able take care of a family, but not quite old enough that it was fair that he had to. Thinking about it made me feel a strange sort of nostalgic-resigned-sad. When I was twelve, I was doing the same kinds of things.
He wasn’t that much younger than I was. It must be weird,I thought, for him to look at me and know that I’m a seishi and wonder why he isn’t. I personally would have been unbearably jealous.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said, grinning. “But if you want a needle and thread, I put them over there for you.”
I looked down and saw, in the daylight, how much worse I looked than everyone else. No wonder they felt sorry for me.
“Thanks,” I said cheerfully. I plopped down on the floor and almost pulled my shirt off before I realized that wasn’t a good idea. Then I went and got the blanket and put it around myself and looked over the project. I’d done this a million times, so it would be fast work. The woods had been rough on me, though, so there were some places that were shredded so badly that they really needed to be patched.
The needle and thread were over by the window. They sat upon a few pieces of fabric, almost the blue of my tunic.
I studied the boy for a moment. “This isn’t for me, is it?”
He nodded, barely looking up from the stove.
I wasn’t sure what to say. Should I offer to pay him for it? “You didn’t...?”
He shook his head and laughed a little. “It’s okay. It’s left over from something of Shunkei’s. I was going to throw it away.”
Which was obviously a lie, but I knew what he meant, because I would have said the exact same thing.
“Thanks.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back. I really like people sometimes.
We didn’t really talk after that, since everyone else was still sleeping, and when they woke up, they made a lot of noise of their own. I didn’t mind fading into the background.
Hotohori had talked a lot the night before about getting going early, but he, Miaka, and Nuriko didn’t even wake up until half the morning was gone, which was a miracle considering how loud Tasuki was being. It took them foreverto get ready to go, even though they had hardly anything with them.
I was getting really annoyed, so I had to keep reminding myself that it was better for me if they were idiots. Still, it was shameful. They ought at least to have been formidable opponents. I was so embarrassed for them.
I went outside and sat with Mitsukake. He, at least, was not an idiot, although he certainly should have done something to remedy this disgraceful situation. Why was there no sentry posted? Why would they let their miko sleep unguarded? If the Suzaku party’s wretchedly good luck went unaccounted for, a handful of well-trained assassins could have destroyed everything--especially considering that only one seishi had to be killed for there to be complete disaster. They had so much to lose, and they were blind to it.
The worst part was that I couldn’t say anything about it because Chiriko, just as naive as the rest of them, would have had no idea that they were in any danger. I could only hope that Chichiri, whom I had not yet met (I had been told that he was working for the emperor in the capitol city), had a smidgen of practicality.
Not that I cared if these people were safe, just that they were shamefuland appalling, and, to put it bluntly, it was humiliating to be associated with them.
When everyone was ready to go, Miaka staged a dramatic good-bye scene. It wasn’t enough simply to thank the host and leave. No. We had to all stand outside the hut, kiss each other, and cry.
“Take care of yourselves!!” said Sou-san finally. “Thank you so much, Your Eminence. And to all of you!”
He looked at Mitsukake when he said this. Mitsukake just nodded. I found out later that, before I had arrived, Sou-san had been ill, and Mitsukake had healed him.
“I can’t believe we found all seven Suzaku seishi!” Nuriko was bouncing up and down and not following the conversation.
“Yes,” said Hotohori. He was caressing the velvety part of his horse’s nose and not really listening. “This is splendid...”
I wish I had a horse. It would be like a pet anda comrade. I don’t know how to ride, though.
The littlest girl was tugging at Miaka’s skirt and whining. “Please don’t go!!”
“Yuiren...” Miaka hugged her, but even shecouldn’t say yes.
“What are you doing, Yuiren!?” Chuuei hurried over and tried to pull his sister away. Their nominal parent looked on passively. “She’s the miko!”
“But she’s Tamahome’s wife!” protested the little girl. I perked up--thatwas interesting information. “We should all be together!” she whined.
She was probably the cutest thing I’d ever seen. (I love cute things.) My little brother used to do stuff like that.
Chuuei was unmoved. “Let go of Her Eminence, Yuiren.”
“No no no no!”
She was nigh on hysterical. It’s so hard to be little and to want things so strongly, because you can’t do anything about it, and you’re not strong enough or wise enough to take disappointment quietly. Probably, there had been too much excitement, and she was tired.
I wanted to help, and I wanted to show off a little--and I’m not sure which I wanted more--so I started to play. It was a sleepy song that I used to play a long time ago for my brother. It’s based on the Gong scale (which I think is the most peaceful) with an altered tone.
“Chiriko?” Tasuki looked back over his shoulder at me as if I were insane. Mitsukake turned, too.
I looked back at them curiously, still playing. What was theirproblem?
Yuiren’s eyes began to droop, and she went limp in Miaka’s arms.
Miaka shrieked. “Yuiren... Yuiren!!”
I stopped playing abruptly. “Wh--”
Tasuki had already grabbed my shirt and was yelling in my face. “Are you makin’ her go insane!? There are better ways to keep a kid quiet!”
I almost started laughing. It made sense now--they didn’t know I could do other things than hurt people. Before I could answer, though, Miaka said, “She’s asleep.”
She sounded surprised. Everyone looked at me.
“That was a tune of hypnosis,” I explained. “Even her dreams will be pleasant.”
“I don’t get it.” Tasuki let go of my shirt.
“I can do lots of things with my flute.”
“Oh.”
I looked at Chuuei to see if he was okay. He grinned at me.
Mitsukake picked up the little girl and took her back inside, and when he came out, we left.
It was less than a day’s journey, even though most of us walked.
The capitol of Konan was a very large city. It didn’t have a name, other than just Konan, which was weird to me, but then I think Konan is a smaller, more compact country than Kutou, with fewer ethnic groups in it, so maybe that’s why. We had to enter the city under the cover of nightfall--I wasn’t really sure why; I had a vague notion about crowds going crazy if they saw Miaka or something--so I didn’t really get to see much of it. I was disappointed, but I didn’t say anything about it.
We were going to the palace. Chiriko would never have been in a palace before, so I pretended to be excited. It was easy, since I remembered how I felt when I was first brought to the palace in Kutou.
Konan’s palace was more impressive, so it was veryeasy. I was genuinely awed.
It’s too bad , I thought,that the most beautiful architecture on earth is invariably inhabited by the worst people.And I wondered what kind of emperor we were dealing with here. Evidently, a supportive one, considering the welcome we received. The servants promised Hotohori that they’d give the horses the best care--although I think only Mitsukake really kept an eye on them to see that they did--and the state of the ¬apartments and the gardens we passed through made it clear that we were in the best part of the palace. We went directly to the throne room, in fact.
“Welcome back, everybody no da!” squealed a manic blur of blue and purple. It attached itself to the nearest body. There was an explosion of Suzaku chi that stunned me for a minute. Obviously, this was the other seishi. His chi was powerful, but he seemed too cute to have much sense. So much for my hopes.
“Chichiri!” Miaka squealed back.
“What the hell is that!?” Tasuki looked repulsed. “Some kinda squirrel!?”
“That’s Chichiri,” said Nuriko, putting a hand to his face in a girlish gesture of amusement. “A seishi just like you--who hasn’t changed a bit!”
Mitsukake looked around.
I hadn’t said anything for a while, so I gazed around with an air of awe and supplied, “Wow! I can’t believe I’m in a palace.” (Totally smooth, huh? Go ahead, roll your eyes.)
Miaka looked at me sympathetically and squeezed my hand. Then she went back to shrieking and squealing with Nuriko about Chichiri and how long it had been since they’d seen him.
“Where’d Hotohori go?” Mitsukake’s voice always sounded so different from everyone else’s--lower and calmer.
“Yeah,” said Tasuki, jumping into the conversation with both feet. “You look up, and suddenly he’s gone!”
“Don’t you guys get it yet!?” Nuriko was getting a bit snotty. “He’s...”
“Please, Nuriko.” The smooth baritone that was Hotohori’s voice came from behind us. We all turned around to see him dressed in very expensive embroidered robes and adjusting his collar.
“Your Majesty!” Chichiri bowed delightedly. I didn’t know a person could bow delightedly. “Your kingdom rejoices on the occasion of your safe return!!”
The three of us who hadn’t been in on the secret were flabbergasted.
“Chichiri,” said Hotohori smoothly. “We thank you for your service.”
“Y-Your Majesty!?” Tasuki was extrastunned.
It made sense, upon reflection. There was really no other way that a man could be so young and so naturally authoritative. And he looked exactly as if hefithere, in this palace--he was just as beautiful and carefully designed as the pillars and the statuary. Only... he was so much youngerthan the emperor of Kutou! I never would have expected it.
The emperor gestured gracefully toward a table with seven chairs. Was there going to be a conference? Apparently, we were going to discuss things together, as if we were a team or something. It was weird.
None of us was really sure where to sit, so it was kind of awkward. At last, Mitsukake and I sort of looked at each other and decided to sit next to each other at the far end of the table. Hotohori, logically, took the seat at the head of the table, with Miaka on one side of him. Nuriko tried to sit on the other side of him, but Tasuki was closer. Chichiri sat across from me, so Nuriko ended up between him and Miaka and pouted.
“You needn’t be so formal,” said Hotohori to Tasuki. He laughed. “We traveled together as fellow celestial warriors, did we not?”
To be honest, this was probably not as reassuring as His Majesty meant it to be. It was actually just disconcerting. We were all thinking, Oh, no, how many things have I said that I shouldn’t have? I didn’t do anything to annoy him, did I?
He continued. “First we must discuss methods of retrieving Tamahome.”
Miaka, whose attention had been wandering, visibly perked up. I perked up, too. Maybe something was actually going to get done here.
“Tamahome is not the only problem. Konan’s copy of The Universe of the Four Gods is also in enemy hands. We have memorized many of the rituals surrounding the summoning of Suzaku. However, specific instructions can only be found in the book. It must be retrieved without risking war with Kutou.”
Miaka jumped up from her seat. “I’ll go!! I’ll go to Kutou and get back The Universe of the Four Gods and Tamahome both!!”
I could tell that we all thought this was a ridiculous idea. I was glad I wasn’t the only one--it was somewhat reassuring to know that a ludicrous idea like this would be shot down immediately.
His Majesty looked at her in shock. “Miaka, you mustn’t--!”
“It was myfault we lost The Universe of the Four Gods!” she protested.
“Still...” It was obvious that the emperor didn’t know how to tell her “no”.
“I’ll go with her no da,” offered Chichiri. “But we gotta coordinate it with Tamahome before we do anything no da!” He held up a warning finger.
Does he always talk like this? I looked around surreptitiously to see if anyone else thought it was weird. No one else seemed to find it unusual.
“Coordinate it with Tamahome?” It was obvious that Miaka had not thought very much about this. She sat back down.
Chichiri went on to explain, in his more-or-less irritating way, how he’d contact Tamahome to set up a time for him to meet Miaka. Then he (Chichiri) and Miaka would travel, using some kind of magic, to the palace in Kutou and rescue Tamahome and the scroll.
I wondered if I should sabotage this venture and risk discovery, or just let them do whatever they wanted and risk possible damages to my own side. Probably, the best thing to do would just be to keep quiet and report their plans to Nakago via Suboshi. I was actually pretty sure that Nakago would sense Chichiri’s spell himself--there’s no way something that powerful could worm its way into the palace without him noticing.
Apparently, if I understood his plan correctly, Chichiri was some kind of sorcerer. It made sense--I’d been wondering about it, actually. The Suzaku seishi seemed to be heavily focused on physical skills at the expense of intellectual talents. They had two martial artists, someone who moved fast, a super-strong brawler, and a healer. The sorcerer made up for this a little.
The Seiryuu seishi, on the other hand... Well, the thing is, the five of us that I know of can all attack from a distance. If there were ever a battle, the Suzaku seishi would be at a huge disadvantage because we’d pulverize them before they got close enough to kick or punch or stab us. They’d also be at a disadvantage strategically. Nakago and Tomo and Soi (and I, now that I think about it) are notdumb. (Suboshi’s not dumb, either, but... he’s a kid.)
The meeting was exhausting for me. There was a lot of arguing. His Majesty didn’t want to let Miaka go, but relented after she burst into tears. (Heh. Power dynamics are fun to watch.) I wanted to point out several things that they didn’t think of, but I was afraid to open my mouth. I was so tired, and what if I said something wrong without realizing it?
After the meeting, Chichiri stayed with His Majesty to discuss something important and Miaka and Nuriko showed the rest of us our rooms. We all were to stay in the same wing of the palace (except that His Majesty’s rooms, having been already established, were a little bit away), which I thought was very handy. Overall, the area seemed quite well organized, and I was pleased to see that whoever was in charge of the guard had thought to provide proper security. It was clear that His Majesty had the sense to appoint very good administrators.
Our rooms opened off a wooden walkway that, although covered, was open to the air. It was situated in a garden with flowers and a little pond. I’m not very educated, but it seemed to me to be in excellent taste. Everything was very clean, anyway, which I cansay objectively.
I was surprised to find that I had been assigned my own room.
“Mm-hmm, it’s all for you, Chiriko!” Miaka beamed. “Hotohori said we could all have our own rooms! And they’re wonderful! The beds are really soft; look!” She flung herself on my bed with an enormous floomph. “And the door locks like this! And you can pull this thing and people will come and bring you food or anything you want! And you can store your clothes and things in here! I mean, once you getclothes and things. And if you want to, you can come find me because I’m only”--she counted on her fingers--”three doors down. And Chichiri is on thisside of you and Tasuki is on the otherside.”
I nodded. She was sort of overwhelming, and my resources were wearing thin. If I had to be around people for five more seconds, I was going to cry or scream or blurt everything out.
“Okay, I’m gonna go show Tasuki and Mitsukake their rooms now, so I’ll see you later!” She scampered out, dragging Tasuki by the hand. Mitsukake followed at a more dignified pace.
I barred the door, sat cross-legged on the bed, and looked at things. The palace in Kutou was more ornate, but this was better lit, and even though it was summer (and we were very far south), it was reasonably cool. Also, it was very large--I certainly hadn’t been given my own room in Kutou--although it seemed like there were fewer servants and guards here.
It was the first time I’d been alone in what seemed like forever, even though it hadn’t been even a whole day since I joined them. But it’s hard work, pretending all the time. Being around people can be fun sometimes, but it always makes me tired, so it was nice ¬to have someplace where I could be myself, by myself. I had never, ever, ever, in my whole life, had my own room before.
I lovedHotohori!!
But the best part of having my own room: I could talk to Suboshi whenever I wanted!
Outside my window, there was this tree (I don’t know enough about trees to tell you what kind or anything), so I reached through the window and broke off a stick. It’s a lot easier to write with a stick than to use my fingernails, especially if I’m going to write a lot.
I scraped the sharpest part across the skin of my inner arm: Suboshi. (Back when we both thought all of this wascool, we decided we’d use our Seiryuu titles with each other instead of our real names. Any more, it kind of makes me want to throw up, but hestill likes it, so I haven’t told him how I feel.)
We don’t have to write--we can just thinkwords at each other--but it takes more energy and concentration, especially when we’re far apart. It’s a lot easier when we can look into each other’s eyes.
A second or two later, I felt scratching, and Aniki? showed up under the symbol I’d drawn.
My brother’s handwriting is huge.
Small . I wrote a tiny character, circling it several times. There’s not very much room on our arms, and it takes a few minutes to fade, so we try not to use unnecessary characters.
Sorry . The character was smaller this time.
Alone? I wrote.
He circled the word in agreement.
Secret--safe. Good health.
Duh, I would know if you weren’t--
Space!!
He circled the “sorry” he’d written.
Tell Nakago. Miko--dumb. Assignment--easy. Stupid plan to rescue Tamahome. Next report when?
Understood.
We’d run out of room. I pulled up one leg of my pants and wrote I miss you just above my knee.
He circled it emphatically and wrote lovenext to it. He was pressing too hard, which hurt.
I think that love is a feeling that lifts up from inside you and comes out your eyes, and this time, all I could do was curl up in a ball and put one arm under my pillow. I rubbed my thumb over the character he’d written to ease the sting, and the red mark faded a little.
Aniki! Don’t do that or I’ll start writing it all over you!! “Love” characters started appearing all over my arms. I started laughing so hard I couldn’t stop. I was glad I’d barred the door, because I must have sounded insane.
When I could finally breathe again, I wrote I love you--stop it.
Victory! he wrote.
I rolled up the other pant leg. There are too many people here. They’re all boring. I can’t talk to any of them.
There’s nothing to do without you , he answered. Soi’s being a bitch. Come back NOW.
I hope soon.
Bring me presents when you come home. Ew!--Tomo--bye.
I wonder if there are enough good moments in a person’s life to make up for the bad moments. I wonder if you can choose which good memory gets to pay for the horrible one that haunts you. Like maybe the day we were reunited could somehow erase the night that I pounded my fists on the ground over and over again until my blood stained the earth--the shooting stars that peppered the sky--screaming--rain--tears--the sounds of gunfire and the explosions in the next village. Do you have to pay for good things by suffering through an equal amount of bad things? Warm sunlight came through the window onto my bed, and I fell asleep.
I woke up to a tentative knock on the door. The patterns of sunlight on my floor had changed, and I figured that it must have been late afternoon or early evening. I felt a lot better. Better enough to be around people, even.
I glanced in the mirror and ran my fingers through my hair to get rid of that smashed, after-sleeping look, then opened the door. It was a servant. She bowed very low. “Forgive me for intruding, Chiriko-sama. His Majesty has requested that you join him for dinner.”
This unnerved me.
“Why?” I blurted out before I could think.
She tilted her head to the side and smiled a little in a bewildered manner. “I have not been told.”
“Oh.” Of course she wouldn’t have been told. I think I blushed a little.
“If you would like to wait a few minutes, while I summon the others,” she said, “I will lead all of you there at once.”
“That sounds fine,” I said hastily. I hope she thought I was just nervous because of the whole royalty thing.
I closed the door and stood with my hands on my hips, surveying my room. I didn’t have any clothes to change into or any water to wash up. I suppose I was expected to bathe earlier, but not only had it not occurred to me, I didn’t know where the baths were. I messed with my hair a little and tried to rub the dirt off my cheeks and the tiredness out of my eyes.
Mitsukake was already outside when I got there. He was leaning over the railing.
“It’s nice here,” I said.
He nodded. Apparently, he didn’t feel the same need to make conversation. So I figured that if he didn’t have to talk, I didn’t either.
I decided that I liked him. It was nice to have someone else to sit with at dinner while everyone else was running around, pinching each other, and squealing like children. They were really cute, actually, and fun to watch, but I didn’t feel that I could join in, no matter how much Miaka tried to draw me out. I tried not to be shy, but every time I turned to someone to say something, I’d open my mouth and nothing would come out. ¬
The conversations were moving too quickly for me to insert a comment, and even when people asked me questions, they’d get distracted before I could answer properly.
Everything I said was greeted by, “oh, that’s so sweet,” and I began to be annoyed. I mean, I knew that it didn’t matter what these people thought of me, but I didn’t want them to think I was a pansy. I mean, I guess I did want them to think that (otherwise the plan wouldn’t work), but it still hurt my pride a little. It seems like, no matter where I go, everyone thinks I’m this cute little kid, even though I’m really a ruthless killer.
So I was quiet. Mitsukake was also quiet, though, and he made a nice shield. I spent most of the evening hovering behind him, watching everyone else having fun, and feeling miserable.
I listened carefully, though, to what was being said around me, and when I returned to my room, I gave Suboshi a much more detailed description of the planned rescue of Tamahome and Seiryuu no miko and the scroll. Then he went to report to Nakago, and I went to sleep.
I didn’t have to get up early, because the plans were for later in the day, but I woke up at the usual time, anyway. I hate that. It seems like I can’t convince my body to sleep late even when I want to.
The servants were up earlier, though, and someone had brought breakfast in while I was sleeping and set it on a low table. It was more food than anyone could possibly eat. There were new clothes set out for me, too--several sets of clothing. It was disgusting that there could be so much extra food and clothing in one place. I felt this way in the Kutou palace, too, but there, the luxuries weren’t offered to me, so it wasn’t as personally revolting; I think the waste was more sickening when I was forced to take part in it. I hoped--I really hoped--that the clothing wouldn’t fit.
Of course, it did fit--nearly perfectly, in fact--and it had been carefully styled to match the clothes I was used to wearing and was much more comfortable than my old clothes. I am ashamed to say that I began to be mollified a little, especially after I had eaten, and had a bath, and gotten distracted by some temple musicians I heard at the shrine. I eased my guilt somewhat by leaving a note with the leftover food explicitly stating that I was not to be given more food than one person could reasonably consume.
It’s amazing how quickly one can become used to giving orders. Making a face at myself, I rewrote the note using more humble language.
After the evening meal, we all gathered to send Miaka off. She had her pack strapped to her back. It was stuffed completely full, which seemed a little unnecessary--how many snack breaks can you have on onerescue mission?--but it wasn’t my place to say ¬anything, so I didn’t. She was twisting up her face, making theatrical poses for the sake of her own sense of drama.
“Take the utmost care,” said His Majesty with visible anxiety.
He was right to be concerned: she may be the dumbest thing ever to bounce across the earth, but that didn’t mean she deserved what was going to happen once Nakago got hold of her. I felt kind of bad about telling him.
I hovered around their little tableau, trying to be perky and cheer up His Majesty. “Can’t we go with her?” And then possibly end this charade so I could just stay there?
Mitsukake grunted in agreement.
Chichiri shook his head. “We gotta keep the party small no da. Yesterday, when I connected her with Tamahome, I noticed there was a magic barrier attached to both him and his room. No matter how skilled you may be, there are those among the enemy who can detect your presence no da.”
Yeah, like any of them. What was wrong with these people? Why didn’t they just learn to mask their chi? Or maybe... read other people’s chi?!
Tasuki elbowed his way forward. “I’m goin’!!” He emphasized this by slamming his fist down on a table.
“Tasuki!?” Miaka looked as if she didn’t know whether to protest.
He grinned. “Nobody would pick up on me!”
I almost choked.
“I been hearin’ all about this Tamahome guy,” he went on. “I figure it’s about time to meet him.”
“Didn’t you hear what Chichiri just said?” said Miaka in a small voice.
“I heard, but if I was goin’ along... I’d fix you up with the most yummy, yummy dumplings you ever gobbled!”
At that point, I stopped listening. There was no point in paying attention to this sort of thing, so instead, I picked up Mitsukake’s cat and squished its face into exaggerated shapes. “You’re so cute, cute, cute,” I sang. “Meow, meow, meow.” I don’t think it was happy about this, but it very patiently allowed me to smoosh its fur around.
Eventually, after a good deal of horseplay and whining, Miaka convinced Chichiri to let Tasuki come along. I returned the kitty to Chichiri’s shoulder, where it seemed to have found a permanent place. (I wonder if that bothered Mitsukake.)
“We’ll go to the part of the castle where the barriers are at their weakest no da.” Chichiri spread his cloak on the floor and slammed his staff down onto it, opening a swirling portal into nothingness.
We all peered into it--frightened, intrigued, worried--except Mitsukake, of course, who was impassive as usual. I’d never seen anything like that void-thing in my life. How useful! I wondered if it felt strangein there. Could a person see or hear? How long did it take to get to the next place?
Tasuki stepped in, followed by Miaka, who winked at us and waved. “I’ll see you guys later!”
Chichiri disappeared with a “no da!” and his staff and cloak--and the cat--vanished with him.
The four of us were left staring at the floor. It was weird.
“They’re gone,” said His Majesty rather stupidly.
“I hope they’ll be all right with just the three of them.” Nuriko tilted his head to the side thoughtfully.
“We’ll stay here until they return.” His Majesty was quite firm. “That way we’ll be ready if anything happens.”
It seemed awkward, standing around, so eventually I sat down on the floor and leaned my back against the wall. Mitsukake wandered over and sat next to me.
“Do you think”--I felt like somebody ought to say something--”Do you think... I mean, what sort of danger are they in?”
His Majesty looked at me sympathetically, and Mitsukake reached over and ruffled my hair. I looked up at him adoringly. (Affecting cuteness is fun!)
“We don’t precisely know,” said His Majesty. “There’s an extremely powerful seishi named Nakago who also happens to be the shogun--so there will probably be soldiers to fight. But Chichiri andTamahome andTasuki should be able to handle him.” He grew thoughtful. “We would have heard about it if there were any other seishi there.”
I think my eyes may have boggled. How was it possible for their intelligence to be so inferior to ours?
Mistaking my expression for fear, Mitsukake nudged me with an elbow. “They’ll be all right. Nakago may be powerful, but he’s only one person.”
I nodded. Now I was reallyworried. I wondered what would have happened if I just hadn’t told Nakago about their rescue attempt. What would have been the harm in allowing them to be together for a few days before... I mean... even if they did save Tamahome the back-up plan would still have worked. Well... no. Thoughts like that were idiotic.
It occurred to me that, if the mission werea success, I wouldn’t have enough time to prepare for the summoning ceremony. I needed more time to weave my music into their ears. I vowed up and down on every deity I could think of that I’d start playing my flute as much as possible... just as soon as they got back.
Then I started thinking about what might happen if the mission weren’t a success. What if Miaka, or even one of the Suzaku seishi, were killed? What if Miaka were... um... attackedor something? (I wouldn’t trust that emperor near a girl her age for anything.) What would happen to me? Would they let me go home? Would I have to stay here? Would they find out about me? What if something happened when a fellow seishi died--like a flash or mark or something--and it didn’t happen to me, and everyone found out? Mitsukake and His Majesty would be so disappointed.
We sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Sometimes one of us would stand up for a while and then sit down again.
“They’re late!!” The annoyance finally burst out of Nuriko’s mouth. “Something’s wrong. It’s been two hours already.” He wrung his hands.
His Majesty was pacing the room. “If Miaka’s gotten herself in trouble... Perhaps Chichiri and Tasuki’s protection wasn’t sufficient. This is distressing!!”
His distress would have been comical if it weren’t so earnest. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him--he was so adorable. I know it’s really hard to sit around and wait while somebody you care about is in danger.
Nuriko went to him. “Your Majesty...” But the emperor was too distracted to even notice.
I closed my eyes and began to play.
“Ow!” A sharp kick landed in my ribs. I opened my eyes to see Nuriko standing over me, enraged.
“Chiriko! How can you be playing a flute at a time like this!?”
I was indignant, but I tried to speak with dignity. “Please! I was merely trying to comfort His Majesty.”
“What!?” Nuriko scowled. “That’s supposed to be myjob! Gimme that flute!”
My jaw dropped. “It’s mine!”
He grabbed it and pulled. I pulled back. He punched me in the stomach. I kicked him in the groin. He bit me. (Hebitme!!) I was so shocked I let go of the instrument, and he scrambled away, crowing in victory.
“Your Majesty has many boyfriends,” Mitsukake said dryly.
“His Majesty has a headache.” The emperor put a hand to his forehead tiredly. “Miaka...”
Nuriko was making the most obnoxious noises I have ever heard come out of my instrument. He obviously hadn’t mastered the art of articulation and seemed to think that blowing harder was the only way to make a sound.
I sat on the floor under a cloud of dejection and annoyance, and I pouted. Of course, Ido not pout as a rule, butChiriko pouted whenever he didn’t get his way. Chiriko could be cute and do all kinds of fun things that I cannot normally afford to do.
Nuriko moved the instrument away from his lips for a few blessed seconds. “Your Majesty! Do you feel better now that you’ve heard my flute-playing?”
“It’s myflute,” I grumbled petulantly.
Mitsukake sat down next to me and patted my head. I snuggled into his arm and sighed to exaggerate my misery.
His Majesty sighed. “Nuriko, perhaps returning the flute to Chiriko is the wisest path. He suffers the onset of depression.” How kind of His Majesty to notice!
“Pay meno mind,” he continued with an air of abused longsuffering. “It’s simply that waiting is a difficult task for me. However, I do have faith in Miaka! I must trust her and wait until the moment she returns unharmed.”
Nuriko put an enraptured hand to his face and did not return my flute. “Your Majesty... You’re so noble.”
Suddenly, he let out the most alarming scream that I’m sure had ever echoed through the royal chambers.
Mitsukake and I were at his side before we even realized what happened. We stared for a moment at the cat that hung suspended in the air right in front of Nuriko’s face.
The absurdity of the situation was too much for me. How could I be angry with a man who was that strong, but screamed like a girl? “I heard a sound like the squeal of a terrified fag!” I blurted, then had a moment of maybe-I-shouldn’t-have-done-that and looked at him to see if that was an okay thing to say.
“That would be me, thanks. Whaddaya expect!?” He grinned at me. I took that to mean we were friends, and I grinned back.
“Mitsukake,” said the emperor gravely, “your cat is floating in mid-air.”
Nuriko and I straightened our faces immediately.
“Your Majesty!!” said the cat.
“Whoa!” Nuriko shrieked. “It can talk!”
Mitsukake made an angry fist. “And I never knew!!” He winked at me, and I snickered. He is so funny.
“No,” said Hotohori. “That is Chichiri’s voice!”
Nuriko made a bewildered sort of sound, which I echoed. It wasChichiri’s voice, but it was coming from a floating cat. Who was supposed to be in Kutou. I think you can understand why we were confused.
“I’m using the cat to get through the wards no da! You gotta find a way to break down the wards from over there!!”
The four of us looked at each other. I had knownthey wouldn’t be able to get through the wards, and I really, really, really wanted to say so, but I bit my tongue and tried to ¬look as confused as the other three did. It was surprising that Chichiri had been able to get the cat through--Nakago and Tomo together can make one heck of an intricate barrier.
The only way to break through the wards from outside would be to send a huge flood of chi through an open portal--in other words, the one that had brought the cat. But I wasn’t supposed to know that, so I couldn’t say it. And besides, I was supposed to be hoping that their attempt was going to fail, because if one of them died, I was off the hook. Although I’d have to find a way to get back to Kutou without getting caught and exposed as a Seiryuu seishi, not to mention that the real Chiriko could show up at any time.
“The flute...” Hotohori was staring at my instrument, which was lying where Nuriko had abandoned it. He walked over to it slowly and picked it up, considering something. Suddenly, he thrust it in my face. “Chiriko! Break the Seiryuu wards with your flute! You can do it!”
I was rather taken back. “B-but...” But I’ll be in so much trouble if I help you.
Seiryuu has given me a lot, and I’m grateful, and I need to pay him back by doing my very best to protect Kutou. That’s what I’ve always done--I couldn’t even avenge my own parents because of it!--and that’s what he expects of me, or at least, that’s what I believe. But I’m not sure if, by betraying Nakago, I’m also betraying Seiryuu. Would my powers be taken from me if I did that?
But Mitsukake put a reassuring hand on my left shoulder, and Nuriko stared up at me with pleading eyes, and I realized that I liked these people. How could I say no to them? And after all, I knew the structure of these wards instinctively, so it wouldn’t be too hard to find their weak spots.
If I’m doing my best for Kutou, I decided, then I can still pray to Seiryuu even if I do something Nakago and the others don’t like. I... I don’t love my god, but I’m obligated to him.
I took hold of the instrument. “Very well,” I said earnestly. “I’ll try!! All of you, concentrate on the sound of this flute!”
Concentrating their chi would multiply the power that I could send through the barrier. Also, it would make it less likely that they’d notice I wasn’t using Suzaku chi. (It was too much to hope that no one on the other end would notice.)
I lifted the flute to my lips and watched as my three companions squeezed their eyes tightly shut. Hotohori and Nuriko put their hands together in a gesture of supplication that almost brought tears to my eyes: they really cared about this girl. I let my eyelids drift down and stopped thinking about everything except the music.