The Seiryuu shichi seishi Miboshi.
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.

His mother left me when he was six months old.
We'd only been married for a little more than two years. I'd recently inherited a large, sprawling estate in the countryside of eastern Kutou, courtesy of the will of my great-uncle. I was a scholar, one of the rising stars of the land, respected and sought after. They'd come from miles away to seek my opinion on the most trivial matters. I didn't mind. I liked the power, the prestige. The Emperor himself had even sent delegations to me requesting my presence in the capital.
To that, I declined. The capital was a maze of buildings and too many people. Stifling. I preferred the open countryside, watching the sunrise and sunset, playing with my child in the fields of grass, walking with my wife in the orchards at dusk. She was the first woman I had ever loved, and I had loved her for years after that first meeting. I had dreamed of a long life by her side.
Before she left me, that is.
To this day, I don't know why she did so. Maybe it was something I did and didn't know. I knew my long absences were taking a toll on her, as I frequently had to travel to other districts or sometimes even countries to meet with some scholar or study some rare book. I'd promised her that after we married, I would settle down, be content with her and our children, however many we had. She liked children, and so did I. I never planned for a large family, but the thought of three or four little ones running around was not an unpleasant one.
But it never came about that way, my dreams and my plans for the future. When I came back from a two-week stay in Sairou, she was gone. Simply gone. My questioning of the servants was to no avail. My chief of affairs, a man who had served my father before me and then me faithfully for so many years, said that she simply walked out into the night with a pack on her shoulders and a bag of coins in her hand, and no one could stop her.
The look in her eyes, he said, was the look of a corpse. A woman who was already dead. Who had nothing to live for.
You'd think I'd have wept that night, lying alone in the great bed that we had shared together just weeks before. Outside my window I could hear the night noises of insects in the grass, and the moon shone full on my face. She loved the moon, especially when it was full.
But I didn't weep. I just lay there, staring up at the canopied draperies of the bed, wooden, unmoving, unseeing, unfeeling.
And that night, I knew I had died.

"Keep your dirty hands to yourself, idiot!"
Tomo sighed in exasperation and let go of the scroll I held in my hands, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently as he waited for me to finish my ever-so-careful examination of its contents. The painted face held carefully concealed annoyance.
"It's an ancient scroll, moron. Any sudden movements and you'll tear it."
"I know that. It doesn't take a great scholar to figure that out."
I ignored the sarcasm in his voice, carefully rolling the brittle sheet back into place and storing it in the mahogany box from which I'd taken it hours before. "That's that."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Well, what did you find out?"
I shrugged. "It's the Suzaku's Shin Jin Ten Chi Sho. I shouldn't tell you."
"Shouldn't." The gleam in his eyes was conspiratorial.
I sighed. "You know, I could get in big trouble for doing this."
Tomo cackled.
"There's not much to tell, really. Nakago-sama was really interested in knowing all about the abilities and symbols of all the seishi, but so much of that damn scroll is in riddles. I can't decipher half of it. It would take someone with the intelligence of a god to completely understand it."
"You're intelligent."
I shot him a dirty look. "Get the box. Nakago is waiting."
"You get the box!"
"I can't float while I carry it."
Grumbling, he moved over to the table. Long nails curled around the heavy box in which the scroll rested. Grunted.
"Let's go."

I couldn't sleep anymore. I took to wandering the house by night and sleeping by day, spending all my free time in my library, searching through shelves upon shelves of dusty books for…something…I wasn't sure what. If the servants caught on to my strange behavior, they gave no sign, simply carried on their usual daily duties as always.
I cleared the house of all the memories of her. Burned her dresses, her papers, the journals that she wrote in daily. Broke the jars of her perfume. Anything and everything that she had ever owned I destroyed, until the only reminder of her that remained was my son.
For six months I carried on my lonely existence, devoid of all meaning now. I still had not wept for her. I don't know what I was waiting for. Perhaps I was only waiting for death.
My young son was a year old when I first saw the old fortuneteller on the road. Dressed in old tatttered rags, a straw hat on his head, dragging behind him a small cart with all his worldly possessions, he arrived at the front door one night, begging for shelter.
"Don't let him in," my chief advisor said. "He's filthy."
I was inclined to agree with him at first. But when I arrived at the door and saw the man for myself…when I looked into his eyes, I found I couldn't turn him away.
"Let him stay."
The servants were aghast. I had never limited their free speech, and though they kept their mouths closed around the guest, I knew they were talking behind my back. I didn't care.
I made my way to the library that night, and for some reason found my feet taking me towards the room of the strange beggar man. I was at his door before I knew what was fully happening. Before I could move, even breathe, the door swung open, and he stood there, his head reaching only to my shoulders, still dressed in the same old filthy rags. His eyes caught and held mine and I found again that I could not move away.
"I have been waiting for you," he said.
The room was one of the regular guest rooms in the house, but it looked different that night. The shadows crowded around me as he led me towards a single table that had been placed in the center of the room.
"Sit down."
I sat, curious.
From the thick shadows he produced a flat piece of glass which he placed face up on the table. I tried to crane my head to see into it, but it was milky and thick, unreflecting. I felt the first misgivings of fear stir within me.
"What is this?" I demanded.
The old man didn't answer, but simply moved his hands to the side of the glass and stared down into it. I felt a chill creep up my spine.
"Old man, I demand-"
"You have a great destiny," he whispered, and those words stopped my protest cold. I tried to laugh.
"What are you talking about?"
His eyes came up to mine and held me trapped. Laughter died in my throat. I was helpless before his gaze.
"I see fire. Fire and storm." His hands moved over the glassy surface in erratic patterns. "Your wife…she left you six months ago. You have a young son. Beware." His eyes bored into mine. "You will tear his heart apart."
I tried to protest. My mouth was dry and so were my eyes. I felt like there was fire obscuring my vision.
"Would you like to live forever?"
I blinked. I found that the movement came naturally to me. I was no longer frozen. I found that my hands were gripping the tabletop and my nails scoring the wood like claws.
"Wh-what?"
"I only offer this once, fool. Will you take it?"
He had called me a fool! "You bastard," I snarled, and reached over the table for him.
He spoke a single word and I found that I had frozen in half movement. I tried to move my arm. It wouldn't twitch. I would have screamed, but my voice was useless.
Smirking at me now, the beggar-man pushed a slim scroll across the table. "In here, fool, is the secret to eternal life."
I don't need eternal life. I don't want it. I want to die.
No you do not.
The words came into my mind and my eyes grew wide as I stared at him. He didn't move. I strained against the bonds of magic that held me. It must be magic. I felt something move within me, a strange feeling like the prickling of needles inside my ribcage, and I strained more, not quite knowing what I was doing, pushing with all my might.
A blue light flared and I felt the invisible cords around me vanish, as I dropped to the table. Blue. All I could see in my vision was blue. Blue spots flashed before my eyes.
A hand caught my chin and tilted it up.
"So. You are the one."
I would have pushed him away, but I was too weak. Where was that blue light coming from?
Suddenly I was flung off the table onto the cold stone floor, and he stood over me, strangely tall now, eyes glowing in the darkness. The scroll was thrust into my hand.
"You will take this. And you will learn it. In three years I come back for you. If you have not studied the scroll, I will take your son."
"I-" The word came out in a half moan and I stretched out my arm, my hand to that impossibly tall and dark figure standing over me. And stopped. From the back of my hand streamed a steady glow of blue. A character.
"Remember my warning…Seiryuu shichi seishi."
I stumbled to my feet, intending to curse at him, rant, ask the impossible barrage of questions that was pouring from my mind. But the room was bare. The table that had just been there a moment before no longer stood in the center of the room. The moonlight illuminated the ordinary walls and ceiling.
The man was gone.

"Written in riddles?"
"Yes, Nakago-sama."
He steepled his hands before him and sat unmoving in the large chair behind the table. Soi was nowhere to be seen. Out on some private mission, perhaps. Behind him, Tomo stood impassive, painted face betraying nothing.
"Let me see this…scroll."
I cocked my head at Tomo and he lay the box on the table. Nakago opened it, taking out the brittle scroll.
"You've had this for a while, Nakago-sama," I said, curiosity overcoming reason. "Since the Suzaku no Miko escaped from the palace. Have you never read it yourself?"
He shrugged. "I glanced over it once or twice. I thought you with your scholar's background would have more experience in this type of thing." Blue eyes flicked to me. "Or was I mistaken?"
"Of course not, Nakago-sama," I said, cursing my glib tongue. One day it was going to get me in grave trouble, and then I'd regret it.
"Here are the descriptions of each of the seven Suzaku seishi," I said, pointing to the different places in the beginning where he was skimming through. "It would be easy, except the descriptions are all given in convoluted poems which make absolutely no sense. Maybe to the Suzaku no Miko they would, but I think the whole scroll is written to deliberately confuse those to whom the scroll does not belong."
"I see," Nakago said. His blond head bent over the scroll, but I could tell he was not really reading, just thinking. After a moment, he said, "It does tell which seishi have what characters, does it not?"
"Hai." I pointed the various characters out to him, wondering.
A knock on the outer door.
Tomo muttered and excused himself to go get it. A moment later a babble of voices broke out, which with my extended hearing were not hard to decipher. One voice in particular. Suboshi could be so whiny when he didn't get what he wanted.
"But we need to talk to Miboshi NOW! Why can't we talk to him NOW?"
Another soothing voice. "Look, Shun, he's busy. We'll come back, ok?"
"But-"
"Tomo." Nakago's deep voice broke my concentration. "Who is it?"
"Only the twins, Nakago-sama. They want to see Miboshi-san."
I frowned. What the hell would they want with me?
"Bring them in."
"Yes, Nakago-sama."
They shuffled in, looking uncertain in our leader's presence. Amiboshi was holding his flute, looking worried, and Suboshi looked jumpy as always, those awful ryuuseisui tucked into his belt. As a Seiryuu seishi, one would think he would find a more elegant way of killing. Tomo, for example. His tortures and deaths were elegant. What was beautiful about a death caused by whirling….things…cutting through one's body?
I looked down, saw Nakago's eyes narrow speculatively as he gazed at the twins, who waited nervously. Look back at the scroll, then at the twins. At the scroll.
"Miboshi."
"Yes, Nakago-sama."
"How many Suzaku seishi have yet to be found?"
I mentally tabulated all the information I had gathered so far. "Three, I believe. Two or three."
"Excellent."
I glanced down at him again, suddenly suspicious. "Why do you ask?"
His eyes went to the twins again, and I felt, more than saw them, shiver.
"I have a plan."

At first I didn't touch the scroll the man had given me. I considered throwing it away, but his warning rang in my mind. So I simply threw it into a corner of my dresser drawer and tried to forget about it. Tried to forget about it, the beggar man, and the fact that I was a chosen one of Seiryuu. It couldn't be. I was no seishi. I was a scholar.
My son was more than a year old now, and a growing boy. I could already see the resemblance to his mother in his face. Strange that he didn't resemble me more. I would carry him sometimes, and we would go out into the garden and I would talk to him about his mother. Sometimes we would watch the stars. His nurse took good care of him. He'd inherit my estate when I was gone, for I would never have any more children.
I wondered how she was sometimes. Where she was. If she was ever coming back.
My mind told me never to give up hope. My heart told me otherwise.
It was a warm spring night when I finally took the scroll in my hands again. I had been wandering the hallways for hours on end, unable to sit down, unable to think. The scroll had been on my mind constantly, taunting me. I felt its pull. It was unnatural, that scroll. Then again, the whole incident had been unnatural.
Would you like to live forever?
I took the scroll from its corner, where it had resided for the past few months. Sat down at my reading table, lit a candle. Unrolled it with shaking hands.
It was brittle and ancient, and the letters were archaic. Some I could barely make out, so worn away they were by elements of nature. The paper felt slimy in my hands, like the skin of a frog or a fish.
I held it up to the light.

Herein lies the secrets of an ancient age, in which the gods granted mortals the gift of eternal life. The dark rites of the priests of old will be revealed.

My heart was beating rapidly in my chest and I quickly pushed away from the table, rubbing my hands against my pants to rid them of the touch of the scroll. Witchcraft! It had to be. I would not learn black magic. I was a scholar, a respected teacher and learned man. Witchcraft was scorned in all circles of higher learning. I would not debase myself to that level.
I gingerly picked the document up again, holding it to the candle flame, intending to feed it to the fire.
The symbol on my hand flared and I dropped the scroll as a flash of flame engulfed my hand. I bit back a moan. The flesh of my hand screamed and the symbol of Seiryuu shone through the fire.
You will learn.
I jerked. The voice had come from inside of my head. "Who are you?" I whispered fearfully.
You will learn, or you will die.
"Then kill me!" I screamed. "Kill me now!"
And what of your son?
I fell to my knees. The scroll clattered to the ground beside me and through my pain and tear-blurred vision I noticed it had not been at all singed by the candle flame.
If you do not learn, I will take him from you.
"Damn you," I whispered. "Damn you!"
A mocking laughter answered my cries.

"What did Nakago-sama want?"
I shrugged. "I have no idea."
I was floating above the grass in a secluded garden of the Kutou palace, Amiboshi walking beside me, every now and then absently playing a melody on his flute. Suboshi scampered ahead to terrorize the birds in the grass.
"Hmmm." The flutist was silent for a moment. "That's strange. He's never needed Shun or me to do anything for him before."
"Well maybe you've come to his attention," I said. "If that's a good thing."
Amiboshi frowned at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"
I grimaced. I'd let my tongue slip again. "Nothing. What did you want with me this afternoon?" Changing the subject.
The look on the boy's face warned me that I would not get off that easily, but he didn't bring the subject back up. "Shun was complaining about not being able to control his ryuuseisui half the time, and I said that maybe you'd know something about that. Being a magician and all."
"I use black magic," I said. "I create monsters from spells. I possess young children. That is a totally different kind of chi manipulation than the one your brother uses." I pointed to his flute. "You are a fairly powerful chi manipulator yourself. Why don't you teach him?"
He looked sheepish. "Well, the truth is, Miboshi-san…I don't know how exactly I do it. I just play, and it happens, you know? I think about doing it and I do it."
"Well, Amiboshi. Pay attention. Next time, think while you're doing it. Notice what you do. You cannot learn more unless you study what you have already learned."

Months passed, and I forced myself to read the scroll every night. Because if I did not, my son would die.
I tried to forget what I had read, but for some reason it always became burned into my memory. Strange chants, spells, ways of possession, ways of summoning demons. I read them all, and I remembered them.
The dreams started several months after I had tried to burn the scroll. They were always the same-I was standing in a dark field, with the full moon above my head. Around me I could hear the keening of ghosts, and when I walked, bones crunched under my feet with a sickening noise. The stench of death filled my nostrils.
You are here with me.
No! I screamed into the night. No!. I won't let you take my son away from me!
Is that all you are afraid of?
What do you mean?
You want the power. Don't you?
No!
Don't you?
The undead would come out of the shadows then, lantern eyes surrounding me, rotting teeth grinning in the moonlight. Their claws gleamed.
Don't you?
Claws slashing my face. I stumbled backwards. I could taste my own blood in my mouth.
And then I would wake up.
I refused to evaluate what those dreams meant. I was reading this scroll for my son, nothing more. I had no doubt that the beggar-man or whatever demons possessed him would be back, and would take my son away from me. The only living reminder of his mother that I had left. I would not let that happen. I would never let that happen.
But as the months wore on, I would find myself looking forward to reading the scroll. I would forget to eat, engrossed in the mysteries unfolding before my eyes. I would not sleep. I would sit and read and read, unwilling or unable to stop.
Once a servant dared to ask if I was going to go see my son. I replied with some puzzlement that I had been going to see him nightly.
"Sensei, you have not been to that wing of the house in three weeks."
After he left, I tried to feel horrified. That I could forget my own son for that long. I tried to recall my wife's face and found that my memories of her had faded to the point where I could no longer even dredge up a single sound of her voice in my mind.
I didn't want to see him anymore. Didn't want to be reminded of what I had lost. I would read, I would study, and I would find her. If I had to search to the ends of the earth, if I had to wander forever.
Forever.
From then on, I read the scroll with a new purpose. I would live forever. And I would find her.

A knock on the door.
"What is it now?" I said. Floating over to the door, I opened it a crack. "Oh. Tomo."
He opened the door wider and let himself in. "There's no bed in your room."
"I don't sleep. I told you that."
He declined to answer, seating himself on one of the chairs. "Nakago told me to tell you. He's come up with a new plan."
I seated myself in turn and narrowed my eyes. "I don't trust Nakago's plans."
"I don't either. But this one seems sound. Soi came back this afternoon saying that they've found the fifth and sixth seishi. Tasuki and Mitsukake, I think his name is. So that leaves one more."
"That one being…"
"Chiriko."
"I see." I digested this new information. "So what now?"
Tomo smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. "So…we are going to play at being Chiriko."
"Nani? We?"
He sighed. "No, not we as in WE. We as in one of the Seiryuu seishi."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh that'll work. Dress up in a Chiriko costume and announce one of us as the seventh Suzaku seishi. They'll really believe that."
Tomo shrugged. "Nakago-sama seems to think it will work. And the Suzaku seishi are a particularly gullible bunch. Especially that air-headed Miko of theirs."
"And exactly who is Nakago getting to play this…Chiriko?"
"Amiboshi," Tomo said.
I jumped up out of the chair as if hit with a chi blast. "Is the man insane? That will never work! Amiboshi?"
"It could work. They are twins…it could be an easy form of communication, if the chi bond between them is strong enough."
I threw up my hands. "Look, Tomo. I know you worship the ground that our handsome blond shogun walks on, but this is going too far! I refuse to take any part in this scheme. When it fails, you will be sorry."
He got up. "Suit yourself. Nakago said you'd say that."
I floated forward until I was inches away from Tomo's face. "And just what else did he say about me?"
Tomo smirked and brushed past me to the door. His mocking voice floated back into the room from outside the closing door.
"That is information I am not disclosing."
"Tomo! Don't you dare walk out on me!"
"Oyasumi, Miboshi."
I growled and resisted the urge to throw my prayer wheel at the closed door. The child's mind did have rather curious tendencies at times.

I noticed I was growing thinner. I took that as one of the consequences of not eating, but did not really care. The scroll was all-important now, more important than anything else that I could ever possibly accomplish.
Letters came for me, letters wondering where I was, if I was well, why I had not answered this minister or that official on some matter or another. I burned them. They were ties to my old life, ties which I no longer had use for.
The servants began to avoid me. I did not care. I holed myself in my room, feasting my eyes on the contents of that scroll. I was rapidly nearing the end, and yet the secret to eternal life had yet to reveal itself. Perhaps I had read it and not understood it? There were parts of the scroll that were faded to the point where the characters were simply not there anymore. Perhaps it was in one of those parts.
Yet I did not believe that could have happened. The dreams were increasing in frequency, but had changed. The voices which spoke to me were submissive, clinging, whispering secrets into my ears. And from them, I learned also.
I practiced my newfound skills in my own bedroom, which had long ago been neglected by any other inhabitant of the house but myself. I levitated objects. I summoned dark creatures. I chanted forbidden spells and felt the dark power swirl around me. It made me heady with newfound knowledge. With this, I was truly invincible.
But yet I had not found the way to life eternal.
Someday, the voices whispered. Someday.
And then one night, I knew I had finally discovered the truth.

"NO!" Suboshi jumped in front of his brother, face set. He sounded close to tears. "I won't let you take him! I WON'T!"
"Shun. Hey, hey Shun." Amiboshi's voice behind him, his hands on Suboshi's shoulders. "Come on. Calm down and let's talk logically, all right?"
"We already HAVE talked logically! He's not going! He can't go! He has to stay here! Aniki, you're not going, right? You're staying here with me, right? RIGHT?"
"Suboshi!" Amiboshi's voice was flat. Commanding. "Let me go."
The stunned look on Suboshi's face as his brother pushed him aside was full of all the heartbreak of the world.
Amiboshi's pale eyes met mine, and his face was hard, yet determined. He held his flute in front of him like a weapon. He shifted his glance away, to look at the one who had demanded his services so suddenly.
"I am ready, Nakago-sama. Tell me what I have to do."
I turned away. My part here was done. This was Nakago's domain, and I wanted no part in it.
I tried not to hear Suboshi's muffled sobs as I quietly left the room.

Possession. That was the key. A body could die, but the soul would never die. Of course. I should have known that all along.
Possession.
All bodies, young and old, male, and female, could be possessed, but of course I would not settle for any body. I would need an intelligent one, brain capable of storing volumes of knowledge. A strong body and a young one. The younger the better, actually.
Would it be possible for me to use a child? Children were simple, yet had great potential. A child's mind would be easy to enter and control.
The question was the one that haunted me now. I had finished the scroll, gained all its knowledge of dark power, yet I wanted more. I had tasted the water of eternity, and it was but a small sip. I wanted the ocean. I wanted all of it.
I had to find a child to whom I could transfer my soul.
And in my many wanderings through the halls of the house, haunting the passageways like an emaciated ghost, my thoughts turned to my son. I had not seen him in a while. How long had it been? I tried to remember, but days blurred into nights and I could no longer recall the passage of time. I wondered how he was. What kind of boy he had become.
My son.
There was a child within my grasp. Very, very close by.

I stood hidden within the brush, listening.
"Aniki…I don't understand. Why you have to go. Why can't I go?"
"Your powers aren't as developed as mine."
"But I-"
"Nakago-sama said they'd probably be looking for someone with musical talent. He said some scroll said the real Chiriko would play a wind instrument. Probably a flute. So I'm the perfect choice."
"I can play the flute." Suboshi sounded pouty now.
"Shunkaku. Listen to me. I have to go. You understand? It's something I have to do…something I've known I've had to do."
"But I-"
"I live to protect you. You know that. Shun. Look." He heard Amiboshi sigh. "Gods. I wish I didn't have to go."
"So don't go! Aniki-" A strangled sob.
"Shun, don't cry. Don't cry."
I snorted quietly and slipped out of my hiding place. Stupid boys. They'd learn sooner or later that families break apart. And don't mend. It's a fact of life that everyone goes through, and they might as well learn it now.
"How was your spying, Miboshi?" Tomo, with that patented smirk on his face.
I brushed by him without answering.

"There is someone at the door, sensei."
I did not turn. "Oh? Who is it?"
The servant sounded frightened out of his wits. "An old beggar man, sensei. He said you have been expecting him."
I curled my hands into fists. So he was back. Strangely, the thought of him taking my son did not bother me now. I cared less about my son than what tests he would put me through this time. This was the test. Every bit of knowledge I had learned until this moment would be tried.
I was no fool. I knew that my forbidden knowledge was in no way complete, or even halfway complete. It was just the beginning of a journey, and I fully intended to survive to complete that journey.
Besides, I couldn't die. I was a Seiryuu shichi seishi, and that meant the god's power protected me.
The man was waiting for me when I came down the stairs into the darkened hall. He was ragged as ever and just as harmless-looking. He had not changed since the last time I saw him. Could it really have been three years ago?
"I have come for the boy."
I smirked. "Not so fast. You promised me that if I completed the scroll you gave me, you would not take him."
"Did I say that?"
I searched my memory. I couldn't remember.
"Have the boy brought to me."
I jerked my head up. Was he speaking to me? My head turned and I saw my chief advisor standing on the steps, his eyes strangely blank.
"Go."
The man moved, limbs jerking unnaturally, form fading into the shadows. I spun back around. "What are you doing?"
The beggar man smiled. "Fulfilling my promise."
"You-" I seethed with anger but dared not attack him, remembering what had happened the last time.
"Ah good. You have learned."
"I'll kill you," I whispered. "I'll rip your heart out."
"To use in one of your spells, perhaps?"
"It's an idea."
"You have learned much since we last met," he said, eyes boring into mine. Again, I found that I could not look away. Even with all my knowledge of the dark arts. "But you are still a child."
"I have brought him." The strangely hollow voice of my chief advisor echoed down the stairs. A soft whimper.
The man had my son by the hair. I could hardly recognize the boy. Was he my son? He had grown in the last three years. Even with my dim memory, I could tell he resembled his mother greatly. Tears were pouring down his face and he looked terrified.
"Excellent," the beggar man said. He reached up and plucked an object seemingly from the air. A prayer wheel, with a sharp point, appeared in his hand. I took a step back as he raised the tip. He smiled, and then with a sudden movement, brought it down. Before I had time to react.
"No!" I screamed. The shadows whispered. "No!"
The tip pierced my heart.

"He leaves tomorrow," Soi said. Amiboshi sat below us in a courtyard on the edge of a fountain, playing a mournful melody. Even to me, it sounded halfhearted.
"Yes." I fiddled with the prayer wheel in my hand. "This whole scheme will never work."
"You are just pessimistic."
"Oh and you are not?"
She shot me a superior look. "I thought this up. It will work. Trust me."
I grumbled and floated away from her, down the corridor. Turned the corner.
"She can be rather annoying sometimes."
I spun around. Tomo stood there in all his painted glory, watching me with a slight smile on his lips. He was leaning against one of the roof supports.
"How goes it with Suboshi?"
Tomo's expression darkened. "Not so well. We've had to keep him secured in a room…he's basically gone crazy, shouting out threats to anyone who will listen. Not that there is anyone to listen. If we don't keep him there, he will go after his brother, and that would be disastrous."
"You are going to have to keep him there for a while. He might go after Amiboshi at any time."
"Nakago-sama says that once his brother's gone, he will calm down."
"He'd better," I said. "I won't have half-crazed boys running around the palace. Seiryuu seishi or no Seiryuu seishi." I fingered the tip of my prayer wheel meaningfully.
"You can't kill him," Tomo said. "We need him to summon Seiryuu."
"I wasn't serious."
Tomo frowned suspiciously at me. "I never know, with you."
There was a silence. Amiboshi's flute music drifted through the breeze and I could feel the chi in the melody. It felt like sorrow and destiny and death.

I was floating in an abyss of darkness.
I knew I was dead. Yet, how could I know? The dead had no knowledge of their own fate.
There was a dim light ahead of me. If I ran towards it, I just might catch it as it moved away from me. I had to hurry. The light…if the light disappeared…I would be lost forever.
I ran. I ran faster than I ever had run in my life, fleeing the darkness because I had no desire to die. Not now. Not just yet.
Bursting through the wall of thick shadows I saw the scene before me as if from far away. My body, lying still before the stairs. A knife pressed to the throat of my son. He was crying out in sheer terror. My chief advisor standing motionless as stone from the spell that had been laid upon him.
And I knew what I must do.
Possessing the body of another was like nothing I had ever done before. I was not sure how I entered my son's mind, but the moment I did, the world became solid once more. I could feel the boy's fear under my conciousness. Feel the cold knife pressed to my neck.
"Now, little boy…die!"
I struck with both hands, sending the knife flying away from me, out of the man's grip. He gave a grunt of surprise as I grabbed the prayer wheel from his hand and plunged it into his heart.
He stumbled backwards. Struggled.
"It's no use," I whispered. In my son's voice. I could feel the boy's sudden shock at my invasion of his body. I pushed his mind down, away from me, ignoring his frantic cries. Held the prayer wheel as best as my child's hands would allow, pressing it down into his heart. "It's over. You will have no more control over me."
Tousan! Tousan! Help me!
I settled myself more firmly around the mind of my son. Twisted. His cries abruptly fell silent, replaced by a dull sense of pain.
He chuckled, a gurgling sound of blood. "But I do. I have already won."
I glared at him incredulously. "You are dying."
"Of course," he said, still smiling. His words came in labored gasps. "For years…I searched for a successor to…my powers…I searched over…the four countries for one who could…inherit…my talents as well as I…When I found you…Seiryuu seishi…I knew I had found…the one…"
My hands were numb. "What-what are you talking about?"
His eyes were glazing over, but his hands were pulling at my sleeves, at my clothes, working their way to my head. "It is…over."
When his fingers found my temples, I screamed.
I was riding a dark wave through the eons of time. Demons flashed before my eyes, moaning ghosts of past lives, occultic symbols and forbidden lore. Thousands of years of knowledge flooded into my brain and I saw before me the same dark endless place of my dreams. The voice that had haunted me for the past three years spoke into my mind. I felt those sharp claws rake my face once more.
He is ready.
And then there was only the blackness.

Amiboshi left early the next morning. I think I was the only one awake to see him leave. Not that the Seiryuu seishi were a bunch for fond goodbyes. I simply did not sleep at night, therefore I was awake at dawn when he departed through one of the back gates of the palace.
"I'll be back, Miboshi-san." His voice was firm, but his eyes were frightened.
I settled the prayer wheel on my lap. "We'll see about that."
"You're optimistic."
"Oh really? Soi told me just yesterday that I was quite the opposite."
He didn't answer, and I could see he was struggling not to cry. "I…I don't want to go."
If I were a more compassionate sort, I would have comforted him. Instead, I simply shrugged. "It has to be done. You know that."
"My brother…you will take care of him, right? All of you."
"As best as we can. If we need him, we will use him. You know that too."
"Yes," he said simply. His wide eyes met mine. "I've been there for him ever since we were born…this is the first time I've ever left him alone."
"People leave the ones they love," I said, surprised by the bitterness in my own voice. "And many times, they never come back."
"I'm coming back." There was fire in his gaze, suddenly. "I'm coming back. I swear it."
I watched him go until he was no more than a speck on the horizon, fingering the tip of my prayer wheel, recalling memories from too long ago.
The sun rose on Kutou palace in full splendor, in fiery orange, in streaks of yellow, in crimson and scarlet and dark blood red.

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