Starlit Reflections

Chapter Three: The Stars In Alignment
 

Hotohori frowned as he made his way through the corridors from
the small dining room where he, Suzaku No Miko and his fellow
Shishiseishi had breakfasted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's true."

"It's not a bad thing."

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

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

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

"It is..."

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

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

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

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

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

"... it's home."

"Tell me about it?"

Tamahome did.

**************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yui had stared blankly in fascination at the page. She had
no idea how to read the Chinese dialect it was written in (she
had only studied Mandarin, and this looked like Cantonese), until
the phrase 'the maiden from the other world' had caught her eye.
Gulping hard against the shock, she had begun to read.

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

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

She certainly acts like Miaka! If it were me, I'd be
looking up all the information I could find about Suzaku No Miko
and her role, while this girl is waiting to be told.

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

************

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

"Elder Brother!" she caroled.

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

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

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

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

"Annoying? Me?"

"-isn't bothering you too much."

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

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

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

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

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

Houki responded with a big grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is she still being courted by the herbalist?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

"Having a mother would be good for me."

"She is your mother."

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

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

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

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

*************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**************

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

"They're not, you know."

"What?" Tamahome said blankly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*************

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nuriko?" Miaka asked blankly.

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

Nuriko recovered first. Smoothly she nodded. "You could say
that... Miss Miaka, this is my twin sister, Kourin. Kourin, this
is Yuuki Miaka, the Suzaku No Miko."