Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ White Stones in the Moonlight ❯ Oratory Tribute ( Chapter 8 )

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

But this speech belongs to me! Muwahahahaha!

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Cha pter 8. Oratory Tribute (Hotohori, Tasuki. Miaka, Mitsukake, Chiriko)

The late morning sunlight slanted through the windows of the Imperial study, the bars of light illuminating the rich tapestries and silk-upholstered furniture that decorated the room. Seated at an elegant black lacquered desk inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the young Emperor of Konan stared off into space, writing brush poised in hand, lost in thought.

The last three days had taken him back in his mind to the years of his power struggle to become emperor - the hushed whispers imparting tragic news; the veils of secrecy and silence drawn across desperate struggles; combatants disappearing from public view, their whereabouts unknown or unspoken; the careful routines of a methodical life superimposed over feelings of panic and despair... Hotohori realized that he hadn't really appreciated the simple happiness of the life he began to lead upon meeting the Suzaku no Miko. Yes, he had enjoyed traveling incognito through his own kingdom on their quests to find the Suzaku Shichiseishi. Yes, he had been glad to gather together his brother warriors who then became his friends, closer to him than his own siblings had ever been. But he had always been too focused on his goals: first, to save Konan, then to win the heart of the priestess, and finally, to summon Suzaku. The failure to achieve any of the three had blinded him to the everyday happiness he felt just being in the company of the shichiseishi - the constant companionship of people who liked him for himself instead of bowing in servitude to the crown he wore.

Hotohori smiled as he thought of Miaka's impulsive and truthful outbursts and her continuous enthusiasm for food. There were Chichiri and Mitsukake, trusted advisors and good friends, always available for a heart-to-heart talk - or just a few laughs. There was the constant flash and fire of the exuberant interchanges between Nuriko, Tamahome, and Tasuki, always willing to leap into arguments or pull pranks, never restrained by the Imperial presence. And now there was young Chiriko, childlike but wise, usually a bystander to the more outrageous interchanges between the seishi yet often interjecting a few words at just the right moment, showing that he knew exactly what was going on.

He had felt his loneliness disappear in such warm company - for the first time in his life, he had known what it felt like to belong to people, instead of having people, things, and provinces belong to him. And he now felt that he had taken his happiness for granted, not realizing how ephemeral all happiness was. He yearned for those days again, yearned so much that his breath quickened and his chest ached. Without realizing it, he had dropped his brush and reached out with his hands, as if he could grasp those happy times in his fingers and draw them back to him.

But those days were gone for the time being, the fellowship of warriors scattered. Chichiri, the brother he depended upon the most, was gone on a perilous mission, facing danger alone. Tasuki was a seldom glimpsed ghost who appeared in the distance at odd times, always accompanied by Miaka hovering protectively near him. Tamahome had disappeared into the darkness of the lower levels, never seen nor heard from, and with him had disappeared Nuriko as his personal guardian.

Hotohori felt a strange constriction in his chest when he thought about Nuriko. Ever since they had returned from their adventures in Choko, followed shortly thereafter by the return of Tamahome from Kutou, Hotohori had put a deliberate distance between himself and his former concubine/current brother warrior. He smiled at the memory of Nuriko's deception in posing as a woman... but then stopped. Nuriko's obvious and unconcealed love for him had caused ripples of concern to run through the ranks of his royal advisors. They had gently but firmly let the emperor know that although his private life was his own, he could not be seen in public enjoying the company of an obviously smitten young man. His duty as emperor was to procure a noble wife and produce a royal heir, and his people would lose faith in him if he did not follow the path they had laid out for him. So he had followed their advice and put a certain distance between himself and Nuriko, never meeting him without another person present and exchanging as few words with him as possible. At first, this policy did not upset him, being that Nuriko's devotion made him feel uncomfortable, off-balance - Hotohori didn't know how to react to a person who was in love with the man he was instead of with his status. And the fact that Nuriko was a man confused him even more.

But when he saw the pain in those violet eyes, he felt an unexpected answering ache in his own chest. And this ache grew greater as Nuriko accepted Hotohori's coldness, bowing to him and addressing him formally at all times, turning away to hide the tears in his beautiful eyes... Hotohori suddenly put his face in his hands, letting the pain wash over him, not understanding anything except that he hurt, he hurt deep inside, and he missed Nuriko so much...

But it was not permitted for the Emperor to allow himself human weaknesses. So Hotohori straightened, carefully wiped his face, readjusted his crown, and returned to his role as Emperor of Konan. Getting up from his desk, he stepped over to a mirror and spoke to the man reflected there, using the words that his mother had used years ago to force him into the role he must play.

"Only you are able to be the Emperor. Only you have the knowledge and the inner strength to rule Konan. You are beautiful and you are wise - no other can do what must be done!"

As always, he felt strength flowing back into him, his vanity pushing aside the doubts that plagued him in his weaker moments. His unnatural empathy backed down to a condescending kindness, a much more manageable emotion than his childish tendency to weep along with his woeful subjects. He was the Emperor of Konan - and he had a job that only he could do!

Today was a special day. Today was the day that Tasuki was to rejoin them at lunch. For the past three days, it had been only Hotohori, Mitsukake, and Chiriko meeting at mealtimes - and he suspected that Mitsukake and Chiriko tore themselves away from other duties and interests just to keep him from being too lonely at the once noisy gatherings. But now that would change, for with Tasuki would come Miaka! Hotohori smiled as he thought of the way that Miaka had sacrificed herself - and the demands of her endless appetite - to play nurse to the gravely wounded seishi. Truly, she was so selfless that it amazed him - could the Emperor of Konan do less?!

Tasuki's courage and sacrifice filled Hotohori with awe - at the same time that it made him squirm. He didn't know if he would have had the same courage as Tasuki under those circumstances - getting the chance to flee, yet jumping back into battle, knowing full well what plans the oni had for him...Hotohori shuddered. He was filled with a righteous outrage that such a crime had been perpetrated against his brother warrior under his own roof! His brothers were supposed to be safe in his care, and so Hotohori felt that he had failed Tasuki in some way. That was why he was determined to make it up to Tasuki with the finest gift that could be bestowed in the entire Konan Empire - a personal speech of thanks from the Emperor himself, transcribed and signed with the Imperial seal!

Hotohori glowed inside as he recalled other occasions when he had presented this gift to a few of his faithful subjects - their tears of joy, their deep bows of gratitude, their exclamations proclaiming that this was the greatest gift that they could ever hope to receive, and now they could die happy! Tasuki deserved such grace from his emperor... but unfortunately, it was proving infinitely more difficult than Hotohori had ever imagined.

For one thing, he could not use his usual speechwriters, being that the veil of secrecy over the incident was not to be breached for any servant, by Chichiri's command. Anyway, Hotohori wasn't sure what he would tell the royal scribes even if he had been permitted to use them: "Write a speech for me welcoming back my brother seishi after being assaulted by another brother seishi..." No! It would be much better if he wrote the speech himself - he, at least, would know how to skirt the central issue with delicacy.

However, Hotohori had a problem - although a fine public speaker, he had never actually written the content of any of his speeches, and now he wondered how his staff made it look so easy. They could whip out an appropriate and heartfelt speech on any subject with less than an hour's notice. Hotohori noted the position of the sun in the sky with despair - he himself had less than an hour to do the same. The crumpled balls of rice paper vellum surrounding his desk attested to his previous failures, his words either sounding too stilted or too condescending. He wished that he could write phrases that flowed as beautifully as the phrases in his former speeches... Hotohori's eyes widened as inspiration struck. He clapped his hands, bringing servants running. "Get me Sumisu-san!" he commanded, naming the Senior Royal Secretary. A servant rushed to fetch the elderly gentleman immediately.

Scant minutes later, Sumisu-san bowed before his emperor. Hotohori didn't waste any time. "Sumisu-san, please get me copies of the personal speeches that I have made for the past two years."

"Do you have any preferences, Your Highness?" the secretary asked deferentially, charmed as always by Hotohori's politeness to his servants.

"Well, let's see... let's choose the ones that had the greatest effect on the recipients."

"Yes, Your Highness. Might I suggest your speech to the ship's crew who discovered the fastest route by sea to Hokkan?"

"Hmmmm," said Hotohori. "That one went over very well, as I recall."

"And there is also the speech to those intrepid explorers who traveled in secret through the wilds to establish contact with the Hin tribes."

"Ah, yes, I remember." said Hotohori, recalling the mission to seek out possible rebel allies against Kutou - sadly, those people had been decimated by Kutou's attacks and lacked the resources or manpower to be of much help. But the mission had not been without profit... "We gained valuable information thanks to the courage of those two men - yes, bring that speech to me, too."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Oh, and do not forget my speech to my old nurse on the occasion of her cat's death." Hotohori remembered some of the beautiful phrases of consolation and commiseration that had brought tears to the beloved old woman's eyes.

"Ah, yes, a very old and beloved pet, as I recall. Excellent choice, Your Highness!" Sumisu-san wasn't sure why Hotohori wanted these speeches, but it was not his place to question any whim of the Emperor's.

Sumisu-san hurried away to fetch the requested speeches. Hotohori smiled in satisfaction, then sat down at his desk once more, wetted the inkstone, and prepared to write the finest speech that he had ever given.

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Tasuki stared out of the window of his room, looking with longing at the trees that marked the border of the Imperial Forest. Usually the view consoled and calmed him, but today it was having little effect on relieving his jumpiness. Instead of pacing, he was moving nervously around his quarters, his seishi speed causing him to appear and disappear from one corner of the room to the next. It was giving Miaka a headache - trying to keep an eye on him was like being forced to watch a pinball game with her nose pressed up against the glass of the machine. Finally, she sighed. "Tasuki, could you please stay still for more than five seconds at a time?! Or at least leave off the seishi speed, and pace back and forth like a normal human being?!"

Tasuki looked surprised at her irritated tone. "Sorry, Miaka... but I just can't seem to settle down." Suddenly he smiled at her, turning on the full force of his charm. "Hey, Miaka, what say we take a little walk in the woods? I think I know where there's a peach tree, and I'll bet we can get some pea-ches that may have ri-pened ear-ly..." he sang.

Miaka smiled at his attempt to tempt her with her favorite fruit. "Tasuki, you know that we're supposed to meet everybody at lunch in a few minutes... and I'm starving right NOW!!"

"But, Miaka..." he whined. "Can't we blow them off just this once? Tell ya what, I need to brush up on my bandit skills. Whaddaya say I go steal some food from the kitchens, and we'll have a nice picnic out in the woods." He batted his eyes. "Just you and me..."

She laughed at his obvious attempts to divert her from her course. "Tasuki, you know that Hotohori gets irritated when you ambush and rob his servants whenever you feel the need to 'brush up on your bandit skills.'"

"Don't know why he gets his knickers in a twist." grumbled Tasuki. "I always give th' stuff back."

"It's because his servants go around in terror, never knowing if they're going to encounter Tasuki, Suzaku no Seishi, or Genrou, Phantom Wolf of Mt. Reikaku. Anyway," she said, fixing him with a serious look, "it's time for you for you to stop avoiding the others. You can't hide in your room forever, you know. It's time for us to rejoin the group."

Tasuki was surprised yet again by her new-found maturity, her adult willingness to face difficult issues head-on. He wished that he could be as brave... but right now, he felt like crawling back into bed and pulling the covers over his head. So, with maturity eluding him, he decided to fall back on immaturity.

"But Mi-yaaaa-kaaaa, I don' waaaahhh-naaaah..." he whined.

"Not gonna work." she said tersely, hunger making her irritable. "C'mon, it's time to go."

Tasuki hung back, looking down at his new fawn-colored boots and scuffing them against the floor. Miaka's heart melted, as he no doubt intended, but her goal remained fixed.

"Tasuki, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just Mitsukake, Chiriko, and Hotohori - you've seen Mitsukake every day so far, and you have no reason to be afraid of Hotohori or Chiriko. You don't have to worry about anything.."

His voice was low, ashamed. "I'm afraid that they're gonna look at me differently - to see if I'm different... and I am. I'm afraid that they're gonna look at me and wonder..." he trailed off.

Miaka came up to him and lifted his chin, gazing directly into his eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I know that this is difficult for you to believe, but I'm so proud of you... and so are they. You should give them a chance to show that they care. Anyway, as I said before, you spend time talking to Mitsukake every day, so it's just Hotohori and Chiriko who you're avoiding. Chiriko doesn't even know what happened - he's far too young to understand that sort of thing, in any case."

Tasuki squinted skeptically, trying to remember what he did and didn't know at age 13.

Miaka continued to reason with him. "And Hotohori - you know Hotohori, he's the soul of delicacy and tact. No one's going to say anything to make you feel bad about yourself, Tasuki. And I'll be with you the whole time." Turning the tables on him, she opened her emerald eyes wide and blinked appealingly at him. He laughed. "Anyway," she continued, employing her last deadly weapon, flattery, "all anyone's going to notice is how sharp you look in your new clothes." She gazed admiringly at his form, clad in a dark green velvet tunic over a blousy white shirt and matching dark green breeches. The ensemble was completed with light fawn boots and matching belts which criss-crossed his chest, then slung low across his hips. He had stopped wearing his necklaces of beads, one of which had been broken in that struggle four nights ago, but still kept his earrings.

"All right, all right, let's just get this over with." he grumbled, trying to sound exasperated but unable to hide his amusement at the head games they were playing with each other. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?" he asked philosophically.

Miaka smiled and linked her arm through his as they left the room.

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Hotohori sat at the head of the table, smiling with satisfaction at how well the luncheon had gone so far. At first, Tasuki had hesitated upon entering the room, drawing back and looking as if he were about to turn tail and run. But Mitsukake had waved to him, Tama-neko perched on his shoulder seeming to wave his tail in greeting as well, and Chiriko jumped up, crying out "Tasuki-kun! There you are! Remember that you promised to tell me all about how to build a bandit aerial ambush platform!!" Miaka made a dive for the food, and between shouting at Miaka to leave some food for the rest of them and trying to explain the principles of ambush to Chiriko, Tasuki had relaxed and nearly returned to his old noisy self. But Hotohori had seen new shadows in the amber eyes and caught Mitsukake stealing careful glances at his patient, and knew that some changes were inevitable - Tasuki had had to grow up sooner rather than later. And that was something with which Hotohori could sympathize completely.

However, looking on the bright side, lunch had been a much livelier affair than previously, and Tasuki was completely unaware of the treat in store for him. Surreptitiously, Hotohori felt inside his voluminous sleeves for the slips of paper containing notes for his speech. In his right sleeve were the notes for his hastily assembled speech for Tasuki, and in his left sleeve were the notes of his former speeches, placed there in case he wanted to improvise and needed sudden inspiration. Lunch was nearly finished, and almost everyone was lingering over the last few bites - except for Miaka, of course, who kept the servants running back and forth to the kitchen for extra helpings of almost every dish. Hotohori decided that this would be the perfect time to present his oratorical gift. He stood up and stretched his arms out across the table for attention... and then disaster struck.

Miaka made a dive for a dish that an inexperienced servant was removing before she had completely emptied it. The servant flinched back from Miaka's attacking chopsticks, causing her to overbalance. Her chopsticks now flailing as she pinwheeled her arms in an attempt to keep from falling, Miaka struck both of Hotohori's sleeves, which swung up into the air, sending his notes flying everywhere. Tasuki reached out a casual hand and snagged the back of Miaka's jacket, rescuing her from falling face-first into the remaining dishes. "Thanks, Tasuki!" she gasped in gratitude. "Baka girl!" he replied fondly. Meanwhile, the young servant, seeing the emperor's consternation at his fallen bits of paper, dropped the dish he had been carrying and dived to pick up the notes for Hotohori. He hastily assembled them into a crooked pile, inadvertently smearing gravy across some of them, and presented them to Hotohori, bowing with his forehead touching the ground and trembling violently.

In any other kingdom, this would be an offense earning instant execution for the servant - but this was Konan. Thus the aggravated but intrinsically kind emperor merely waved the agitated young servant back to the kitchen. He looked at his notes, sighing, wondering if he should just cancel his wondrous yet increasingly complicated gift. But then he caught sight of Tasuki smiling at the whole situation and decided that nothing would keep him from giving his fellow seishi the reward he deserved! Besides, he had just finished writing the speech a little over an hour ago - it should still be fresh in his mind.

Hotohori stood again and smiled as the eyes of Mitsukake, Miaka, Chiriko, and Tasuki (and Tama-neko) turned towards him. Glancing down at his notes briefly, he looked up into their eyes again. "My loyal subjects..." he began, pleased with the smooth rolling tones of his voice - then noticed the frowns of confusion on the faces of his friends. He realized that he had called them subjects when he usually addressed them as equals. "Wait, that's not what I meant to say..." he said, confused, quickly switching the top piece of paper to the bottom of the pile. To his relief, the next piece of paper appeared to be the beginning of his Tasuki speech. He began again.

"My dear fellow seishi and miko, we are pleased to welcome back into our presence our beloved brother warrior and brave companion Tasuki."

"Hear, hear!" cried Mitsukake, grinning. Tasuki grinned back. Hotohori smiled, then continued.

"You can imagine the Imperial consternation when we heard he had been laid..." Hotohori frowned at the gravy stain which obscured part of the sentence, and failed to notice the smile leaving Tasuki's face. Hotohori scraped at the stain, then held it up towards the light coming from the window. "Up!" he declared in triumph. "Laid up with grievous injuries which he had incurred in defense of his miko and brother warrior."

Tasuki relaxed back into his seat and picked up a cup of water as Hotohori continued. "We wish him to know that he was sore..."

Tasuki choked. "Hmmmm." muttered Hotohori, scraping at another gravy stain while Chiriko fixed Hotohori with a wide-eyed stare. "Oh! ...that he was sorely missed by us all!" said Hotohori in relief. Miaka paid no attention to the increased tension at the table as she looked into one empty dish after another.

Hotohori was pleased that he had come to the end of the stained piece of paper. He set it aside and picked up the next piece that was thankfully clean. He cleared his throat and continued reading.

"We admire you in having the courage..." Yes! he thought, then clicked his mind into his automatic speech-giving mode, enunciating each word in his smooth yet regal tones. "...to penetrate deeply into the interior with your companion, becoming indoctrinated into foreign ways for the purpose of broadening our horizons. We look forward to you sharing with us the benefits of your... experience..." Hotohori faltered as he realized that he was giving the speech that he had given to the two secret emissaries to the Hin tribes. He looked up at his captive audience.

Mitsukake had placed his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on the table. Tama-neko was arching his back, his hackles raised at the tension in the room. Chiriko was anxiously darting glances at everyone at the table, while Miaka had finally picked up on the strained atmosphere and had stopped eating. And Tasuki was bowed over his plate, his hair obscuring his face, but his hands clutching the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip.

Hotohori knew that he had to act quickly. He tossed aside the slip of paper, skimmed the next two pieces and threw them away too, then almost sobbed in relief as he spotted a familiar phrase.

"We would like you to know that the Imperial prayers were with you..." Oh, thank Suzaku! he thought to himself as his mouth ran on in automatic mode again. "...as you negotiated the ins-and-outs of this previously unexplored passage..." Hotohori stopped as Mitsukake left his seat to stand behind Tasuki, who was visibly trembling. He looked down at the paper only to recognize the speech he had given to the sailors who discovered the new sea-route to Hokkan. He looked up in consternation, noticing that Chiriko was now bowed over his plate, while Miaka had paled and dropped her chopsticks.

Caring nothing for the artistry of his speech and desperate only to finish, Hotohori grabbed at the next piece of paper and read, "and we conclude with our tender commiseration with you over the inconsolable loss after seventeen years of your beloved Fluffy..."

This was too much for the bandit. "My WHAT?!!" he shrieked in rage, jumping up and knocking over his chair. Tama-neko yowled in surprise, jumping off Mitsukake's shoulder and skittering across the table in an attempt to escape, knocking over crockery and table ornaments as he ran. "What the FUCK are you TALKING about?!!!" Tasuki howled in despair, then leaped at Hotohori, sending more crockery smashing to the floor and nearly eluding Mitsukake's grasp. Mitsukake grabbed Tasuki by one arm so that the bandit only grazed Hotohori, hitting his arm so that the papers flew up once again to shower the emperor. Hotohori fell back into his seat in shock as Miaka jumped up to help Mitsukake wrestle the enraged bandit out of the room.

Tasuki continued to scream, trying to lunge at Hotohori as Mitsukake dragged him toward the door. "You think this is FUNNY?!! You want me to share the benefits of my EXPERIENCE??!! I'll share the benefits of my EXPERIENCE with you!!! How about if I take one of those STUPID curly-toed shoes of yours, and SHOVE it up your lily-white, IMPERIAL..." Miaka leaped forward and clapped her hand over Tasuki's mouth before he could finish committing an act of treason punishable by death. Mitsukake finally succeeded in wrestling Tasuki out the door, Tama-neko also darting out, hissing and spitting. Miaka quickly pulled the door shut behind them.

Hotohori sat frozen in his seat, staring off into space, as Tasuki's screams and curses receded into the distance. Finally, he blinked and shuddered, seeming to come back to himself. Glancing around at the wreckage of the dining table, Hotohori noticed Chiriko still bowed over his plate, the young seishi's slender shoulders shaking. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the boy. "What?!" he snarled.

Chiriko finally lifted his head. His face was straight, and he fixed the emperor with a limpid, innocent gaze. "I thought that went rather well, don't you?" he asked.

Hotohori glared at him incredulously.

Chiriko continued. "I mean, the palace is still standing... and the dining hall isn't completely wrecked..."

"Oh, shut up!" groused Hotohori, shoving his hands in his sleeves, and settling back in his chair to sulk.

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Author's note: Well, I had fun with this one, anyway. Poor Tasuki - you would never know that he's my favorite by the way I torture him, would you? Sorry, Gen-chan - but some things are just too fun to pass up. C&C, please.

I also had a little fun with Hotohori's secretary's name. Sumisu-san is the Japanese pronunciation for Mr. Smith... a perfect name for a pencil-pusher, dontcha think?

And most important, a very BIG thank-you to Purple Mouse for beta-reading this chapter - her suggestions were GREAT and helped improve the flow.

Ja ne!

Roku-chan

P.S. To my sister - Hey, CG. Doesn't Miaka's reassurance to Tasuki that no one's going to say anything bad to him remind you of a certain MCAT review course: "Go ahead and ask any question - no one's going to laugh at you..."

Love, Your evil, evil sister