Starlit Reflections

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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...
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Chapter Seven: Flame Ascendant

**********

Dawn.

Recently, the morning had heralded boring classes, aching hands, expended effort and blazing headaches as she tried to study late into the night. It was all 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 made, 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 flame-red 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 ase 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.

********

"What's wrong, Tamahome?"

He turned to find Miaka beside him. Nuriko and Hotohori were behind them, out of earshot.

"I'm just... thinking," he said lamely.

"Oh? What about?" she asked.

Tamahome shook his head. "I'm a little worried."

Miaka lost her smile. "You're worried? Whatever for?"

"Lots of things," Tamahome replied, not noticing. "It'll be all right."

"All right? If you're worried, how can it be all right?"

Tamahome looked over at her, sudden realizing exactly who was riding beside him. He shook his head. "It's all right because you're here. And you'll come back... won't you?" he asked suddenly.

Miaka frowned. "I - I don't know," she replied slowly.

"You have to," he replied positively. "The armies on the border don't dare invade if you're here."

She blenched. "Armies on the border?"

He leaned back in shock. "Yes, I used to live in a border village. That's one of the reasons I'm glad Nuriko's giving my brothers apprenticeships in his - her - " he grimaced, "family business, and Lord Hotohori's giving my sisters work in the Palace. If you went an hour's journey to the West, you could see the border and the armies there. In the capital they'll be safe."

"So - so close?" Miaka asked softly.

"Yes. But when you are well again and come back, you will summon Suzakuseikun and He will protect the country, and all the people in it. Lord Hotohori, Nuriko and I will look after the country until you come back. That's probably why we were attacked last night."

Miaka blinked. "Is that all that can be done?"

"Until you summon Suzakuseikun," Tamahome told her.

Miaka turned her attention to the road ahead of Kae. Until I summon Suzakuseikun? Well, I will, Tamahome! I will get better and I'll come back and I'll find the other Shishiseishi and I'll summon Suzakuseikun. And then you'll be safe.

She nodded to herself. I will make sure of that.

********

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 freshly baked bread 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 its 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. OL: Slang, short for the English phrase office lady. In Japan, most female employees of companies hold positions as glorified secretaries. This has led to the creation of a very precise social niche, with its own social culture and expectations, large enough that major proportions of marketing, literature and popular media are all aimed at the young women who call themselves 'OLs'. 'OLs' have no prospect of advancement within the company, are expected to find husbands within their first ten years of employment and quit their jobs upon their marriage. It is not what one would call a prestigious position.

2. 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.

3. 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.

4. 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...)

5. 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.

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