Golden, silver, incense…Check. Ja'far thought to himself as he made a quick inventory of the required items. He mentally rehearsed the procedures again, making sure that he got all the parts right.

Not that Ja'far was looking forward to the 'festival'. He hated the way that the Kou Empire portrayed it as a celebration, as if it would somehow cover the sepulchral origins of the day. Moreover, he hated having to submit himself to the Kou Empire's lifestyle. Their strict way of life was reflected in everything they do, from the suffocating layers of clothing to the formal way they hold their ceremonies. It was a far cry from the relaxing pace of Sindrian life, and he hated it with a relish.

A knock on the door announced to Ja'far that the time was up. The ceremony will happen very soon.

Ja'far casted his eyes over the materials again. There were nine sets of papers and incense, each one representing one of the generals, and of course, him. The man who had saved him from a life of depravity, the man who had created a thriving kingdom with his own bare hands, and the man who had defeated seven dungeons effortlessly. Unfortunately, Ja'far's last image of Sinbad was of him falling off a cliff, his magoi having been depleted.

There was no way he could have survived the fall, what with his lack of magoi and the jagged rocks below. He is gone.

That was the statement that the Kou Empire had fed him ever since that fateful day. It had been one year since, and with each passing day, Ja'far gave up hope that Sinbad could still be alive. Many times he had considered taking his own life too. The only reason for living was the promise that he had made to Sinbad long ago. It was a promise that sealed him to this miserable life.

"Sir, please come out."

Ja'far nodded listlessly to the servant girl as he watched other servants come in to remove the items. With one last glance at his Kou attire, he followed the line of servants out.

When they arrived at the main hall, there was a huge mountain of food and materials deposited in front of a furnace. The whole area was repainted in a fabulous red and gold, so bright that it threatened to blind Ja'far. Kouen had made sure to renovate the whole palace once the Kou Empire took over.

In the corner, Ja'far could spy many ex-Sindrians, those who had been spared their lives when the Kou Empire conquered them. He could see the unmistakable haunted look in their eyes, so reminiscent of his during his younger days. He didn't blame them. They were offered no choice, either perish with their family, or submit to the Kou Empire. At least they didn't submit willingly.

"You don't look bad in that attire."

Ja'far gritted his teeth as he looked into Kouen's eyes. The emperor was enjoying his humiliation, as expected of someone who ruled the merciless Kou Empire. He deigned no reply.

"You prepared materials for the other generals as well?" Kouen looked behind Ja'far to see the silver and gold papers. "They are not dead yet."

"How am I to know? You didn't give me the luxury of meeting them." Ja'far hissed angrily. A few guards nearby started, but Kouen waved them off. He was confident in his prowess over the former assassin.

"So be it, do as you wish." Kouen then turned off to overlook the procedures of the ceremony.

That was right, the ceremony was held in honor of the dead. According to Kou customs, during the seventh lunar cycle, everyone in Kou would celebrate the day of the dead. They would invite the dead, burn paper items for them and wish for the successful reincarnation of the spirits. It was such a stygian tradition, but the colors and magnitude of the ceremony belie its darker undertones.

Ever since Sinbad fell, the eight generals were quickly defeated too. Ja'far had seen with his own eyes as his comrades were dragged off, bleeding and near death, to who knows where. All he knew was that they were separated to prevent communication, and that he was miraculously spared the fate of being immured. Why Kouen would order that was beyond his comprehension. The man was known to act on his capricious whims. Perhaps Kouen saw his potential as a parliamentary officer of the Kou Empire? Or perhaps Kouen merely kept him for the emperor's own perverse disports? Ja'far didn't want – no, he didn't care enough to know.

"Burn the golden papers."

Ja'far walked forward as he threw the papers spitefully into the flames, watching as it shriveled up under the intense heat. He didn't want to burn any offerings for the deities of Kou Empire. They must have been vulgar to allow for such a savage country to exist.

"Next, the silver papers."

The silver paper signified clothing and other materials for the dead.

Sin, even though you always managed to somehow discard your clothing in the most outrageous of manners, I hope that you will receive this. Ja'far thought to himself as he casted the papers into the hungry flames.

The ceremony continued on in a similar fashion for two hours, with many offerings in between. Ja'far was relieved when the announcer declared its end.

"I noticed that you burnt nine sets, but there could only possibly be eight of you." Kouen approached Ja'far, enjoying the fair-skinned man's discomfort at the close proximity.

"I counted myself in. I might as well be dead." Ja'far replied curtly, not wanting to interact with taller man more than necessary. Every time he looked at the flame emperor, he was reminded of Sinbad's demise.

"I heard the rumors that Sindria's parliamentary officer is a serious man. It seems that the rumors were true."

Ja'far dug his fingernails into his palms, so tightly that it left angry welts in its wake. The word Sindria coming from that man's mouth made it sound so…defiled. "Pardon my exit, I am not feeling well." He did not even wait for Kouen's response before fleeing from the main hall. If he stayed any longer, he feared that he would launch himself at the man with his teeth and nails.

Ja'far removed his outer layers of clothing as he walked; hating how much it clung to him. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his collar, exposing small amounts of his chest to the open air. The night sky and ocean breeze was a welcoming sensation compared to the stuffy chamber. It reminded him of Sindria in its halcyon days before Kou took over.

"I never knew you were that risqué in public." A cat whistle broke through the silent night.

Ja'far froze in his actions. It couldn't be him, could it? He already saw with his own eyes how the man fell down to his doom.

"Why, Ja'far-kun, just one year and you cannot recognize me anymore?" The voice was closer now; the teasing inflection so familiar.

Ja'far turned cautiously around, afraid that if he was too fast, the dream would disappear.

There, right before him, he beheld his king's majestic form. Well, it was an exaggeration. The purple-haired man was dress in tatters, covered with scars and looked worse for wears, but to Ja'far, he was majestic. The man's smile stretched into a full-face grin when he saw Ja'far turn over.

"Miss me?"

Ja'far reciprocated the smile as tears began to accumulate in his eyes. Even if it was a dream, it was a wonderful one.

"Of course, Sin."

"Come, let us take back what was ours."

A/N: First non-InuYasha fiction! I am so in love with this pairing lately, but there are so little fanfictions of them... Well, here's a little bit of fluff for the fans. Hope you enjoy (?)!