Disclaimers: Do I need to stamp it on my forehead?!

Warnings: I….don’t really know. ~.^;; I don’t think there are any spoilers, unless the respected reader is unaware of our friend Nuriko’s issues. ^_^ Oh, and another thing: I honestly don’t remember if, in the inn in Hokkan (you know, the one they stayed in where Nuri-chan gave himself a five-minute makeover with his dagger?), it showed who roomed with who, or if there was, actually, a fireplace there….I was too lazy to check. If I’m wrong, I’ll just call it poetic license... Yell at me if you want. ^_^

Notes: Mitsukake appears for the benefit of my pal Emily, who likes him and Chiriko the best…somehow, I couldn’t quite picture Chiriko in this scene, so….heeeeeeeeeeere’s Mits! ^_^

There were so many questions he’d been trying so hard to find the answers to… so many great mysteries of life.

Like how the small inn in Hokkan stayed warm despite the freezing temperatures outside, when there was no trace of a fireplace anywhere in the building. And how Miaka could possibly eat so much and be so darn small. And how Chichiri and Chiriko got their hair to stick straight up like that.

But at the moment, there was one nagging question that plagued Nuriko’s mind more than the others: how the heck had he gotten stuck sharing a room with Mitsukake?!

There were seven of them. Fine. Two, two, and three. He’d been sure he’d be sharing with Miaka, like they’d done in the past. Stick the "girls" together. And that would have been perfectly all right with him. But once the extremely kind—but slightly air-headed—inn matron had gotten wind that Miaka was the Priestess of Suzaku, she had insisted on giving up her own small, comfortable room to the young girl. Which would have left two groups of three seishi each…if the place hadn’t been so crowded, and the only rooms left hadn’t been a little thing that probably used to be a closet and a rather large room on the very top floor that had only a single, giant bed. (Miaka had giggled and called it the ‘Honeymoon Suite’…whatever that meant.) So they had decided on four and two. And somehow, he’d wound up in the closet with Mitsukake.

Oh, yes. And Tama-neko.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t like the man. It was just…he was so…quiet. The ridiculous, sarcastic idea had once popped into Nuriko’s head that the healer had a specific quota of how many times he spoke during the day, and once that quota had been filled, he wouldn’t say another word until the next morning.

"You’re being mean," he muttered to himself as he prepared his bed on the floor.

"I’m sorry? I couldn’t hear you," rumbled Mitsukake, looking up from a book of medicine.

Nuriko felt his cheeks flush the slightest bit. "No, nothing…just talking to myself. Again."

The big man was silent.

"Are you certain you don’t mind sleeping on the floor?"

"Oh…uh…" Nuriko looked up with a sheepish smile. "No. I don’t. It’s…heh… it’s cozy. Besides, I don’t think there’s room down here for you." He turned back to the clean, white linen and busied himself with trying to get it straight in the cramped area between the bed and the wall. It was harder than one might have imagined.

Mitsukake cleared his throat. "So………….Miaka tells me you used to be a, uh, lady of the court?"

In his head, Nuriko groaned. Wasn’t his quota up yet? "That’s right." And that’s it. He’s done for the night. He’ll just read his little medical handbook and…

"I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable that she told me."

He bumped his head against the side of the bed while attempting to lift up one side of the straw mattress. "Ack!!"

"Are you all right?"

"Ow. I’m fine. And no, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable, but thank you for asking, it’s considerate of you."

More silence. Nuriko rubbed his head and sighed. He knew he was being a bit rude. After all, the man was only trying to get to know him better. But he was tired and sore and now his head hurt, and all he wanted to do was go to sl…

"Nuriko?"

"If I may, I’d like to ask you a personal question."

Giving up on ever getting the sheets on right, Nuriko spun around and dropped himself hard upon the mattress, his back resting against the wall, his arms flung over his propped-up knees. "Go right ahead, Mitsukake. Just…whatever. Shoot. Get it over with."

The violet-blue eyes stared at him calmly out of an equally expressionless face.

Nuriko immediately felt awful. He lowered his eyes and slumped his shoulders, sliding his legs down so that they crossed beneath him. "Mitsukake…I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I get mean and…bratty…when I’m tired."

He nodded. "I’ve heard stories."

The smaller man froze and blinked. "Wh…"

"I won’t lie to you, Nuriko. Miaka asked me to ask you something….personal. She said she was afraid to do it herself, because she didn’t want it to seem like she was pestering you."

Nuriko shot him a skeptical look.

"Yes." Mitsukake nodded. "I, too, found her concerns to be somewhat belated."

Great Gods…he has a sense of humor.

"If you would rather go to sleep, I wouldn’t be offended at all."

"No," the purple-haired seishi said quietly, drawing his pyjama-clad knees up to his chest and resting his chin atop them. "It’s all right…I don’t mind." He was curious, actually, as to what the question might be…What would he do if it was, ‘why DID you dress up as a woman, anyway?’ The thought of answering that particular question terrified him…but somewhere, deep inside himself, he wanted to be asked…just wanted to have someone else share his burden…

"Are you in love with Hotohori-sama?" Mitsukake asked gently.

Relief. A bit of disappointment, really. But mostly…relief.

"Um, well," Nuriko stuttered, "that…depends."

The healer waited patiently for an explanation.

"No, I guess it really doesn’t depend on anything," the boy admitted, slightly embarrassed. "You phrased it just right. I can’t just pretend you meant ‘love,’ as in, friendship."

"You don’t have to answer."

"No."

Mitsukake raised an eyebrow the tiniest bit.

"No, I’m not…in love…with Hotohori-sama," Nuriko clarified softly. "He’s one of my dearest friends. I…I think I’d die for him. But then…I think I’d die for all of you." He sighed, and gave a lop-sided grin. "It’s no good, she’s gonna wanna have a better answer than that. All right…let’s see if I can…hmm." The fine brows drew together, the lavender eyes wandered off to the side.

After a moment, he exhaled slowly, nodded to himself, and looked up once again. "All right," he said. "You’ve already asked me if I was, um, a member of the Imperial… ahem…harem?"

The big man on the bed nodded.

"Well…" Nuriko began, "as you might expect, that took a great deal of… confusion…on my part…I thought I was in love with Hotohori-sama. But now that I’m, well…normal…" –or closer than I was to it before, anyway—"I’ve had time to think about it, and the more I thought about it, the more I came to believe that I loved Hotohori-sama because he was safe…" he fumbled a bit. "I mean, deep down, I knew I was a man. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t ignore it. Deep down, I also knew that because I was a man, I could never really have Hotohori…it’s like I told myself to love him because he was completely out of reach…do you understand?" He looked up hopefully.

Again, Mitsukake nodded, and gave his companion a reassuring smile. "I think I do," he replied.

"Of course, it didn’t hurt that Hotohori-sama was nice and attractive and gentle and smart…" Nuriko sighed, smiling dreamily and pressing his face into his knees, eyes slightly glazed over.

"Eh?"

"I’m joking, Mitsukake-kun," the boy giggled. "I’m only joking. But it can’t be denied, can it? It’s all true!"

"I…uhhhh…" Mitsukake managed.

"Surely you don’t have to be gay to appreciate beauty?!"

The big man found himself laughing, deep, rumbling chuckles. "I suppose not, Nuriko-chan."

Nuriko beamed up at his friend, touched by the affectionate address.

"Well, it’s late," said the healer, tucking his book under his pillow. "Let’s get some rest. It’s sure to be a long day tomorrow."

When the lantern had been extinguished, Mitsukake felt himself drifting off almost immediately…but just as he felt sleep ready to overtake him, he was roused by a small, clear voice.

"Hey, Mitsukake."

He let out a sigh. "Yes?"

"Next time, don’t worry about asking me questions. What, were you afraid curiosity would be out of character, or something?"

Mitsukake’s eyes flew open in the dark. What? He’d guessed…? "But…Miaka really did…"

"Well, g’night!" said Nuriko cheerfully, and tossed over on his side. All too soon, the sound of gentle snoring floated up from where he lay.

Shaking his head, Mitsukake couldn’t help but let out one last, quiet chuckle of surprise before he let himself relax into dreams.

THE END

Ack…cheesy ending! Cheesy ending! And if I had a nickel for every time someone said "It’s sure to be a long day tomorrow…" ^_^ **shrugs** but oh well!