Disclaimer: les personnages de FY ne sont pas les miens. Mais Nuriko habite chez moi, sous mon lit avec les souris et les toiles d’araigné.

Warnings: Sap sap sapsapsapsapsapsapsap! Shounen ai shounenaishounenaishounenai! Dramadramadramadramadrama! Crying and stuff. And all that jazz. ^^;; A teeny bit of bandit language, but nothing to get your knickers in a twist about.

Notes: Thiiiiiiiiiis would be an AU. **nod** It takes place, er…naturally, right before Our Heroes set off for Hokkan. It’s a Nuri/Hori thing. (What?!! I wrote a Nuri/Hori Story?! ME??…shyeah, thassright.) Hope you guys like it, though it is sappy. **nod**

The air was slightly cool that day, unusual for Kounan at that time of year, as if the wind had been sent from the North to beckon the travelers forth. It was a pleasant change, a cool and ready hand to chase away what would otherwise be uncomfortable heat. But as sturdy as the breeze might have been, it did nothing to dry the slight line of tears that trickled unwanted down one pale face.

The others had gathered together at the rail, ready to wave a farewell to the emperor and his advisors on shore. But as much as he wanted to do the same, as much as he felt like a foolish woman for letting his emotions escape, Nuriko would not let himself be seen. He couldn’t allow Hotohori to see him…not like this. Not again. He knew he should wipe his tears away, hurry to Miaka’s side, and throw the onlookers a wave, cheerful and cocky, to show them he was fine. To show him. Somehow, though, the thought of masking any sincere emotion, no matter how small, made the slender seishi feel positively nauseous, a discomfort owing nothing to the ship beneath his feet.

Especially after what had happened last night…how could he even consider covering it up? Keeping out of sight wasn’t covering it up, precisely; no doubt, he thought miserably, the mere fact that he wasn’t alongside everyone else being cheerful and cocky was an obvious clue that he had become an emotional wreck. Hotohori probably knew he was crying. He probably knew.

And he probably cared. That knowledge, though it wrapped a warm little hug around Nuriko’s heart, just made the whole thing worse. Better, in some ways. Much better. But worse all the same.

With a sigh, he rested folded arms on the wooden wall of the ship, bending slightly to rest his chin on his forearms. The water rippled and shone several feet below him, and he could see the small, white half-circle of his face reflected there, like a rising moon…a very blotchy, tear-stained rising moon, he thought bitterly, and rubbed his cheek against his upper arm to get rid of the annoying wetness.

He found it rather stupid that being loved by someone could make him cry. After all, it was not being loved that had caused him so much pain for so long, and it wasn’t fair that he should react this way again. It was as if his heart had betrayed him, for there was no possible reason why he should be so…so vulnerable. It was as if something inside him had snapped, his anti-crying device, and now he wept at everything.

But to leave so soon, so soon after…it was like finding happiness for the first time in his life, and having to give it back.

He hadn’t wanted to go when Hotohori had called him to his anteroom the previous night, afraid of what the emperor would say. Would he finally reveal his disgust to the smaller seishi, dole out cold words of farewell? You have served the land well, Nuriko…but do not return to Kounan after the Shinzaho has been found. Do not return, for we will not welcome you. He was certain that, when Hotohori finally opened his mouth, those would be the words he heard. And to hear those harsh orders emerge from that beloved person…he thought he would have died, just keeled over and died, like a weak-bodied woman in a story.

So he had stood there, feeling small and cold and alone, watching Hotohori’s back and waiting for the blow to come. Nuriko, you deserve none of our affections…but what more did you expect? Did you actually expect that anyone could love you, let alone myself, after what you did?

And he hadn’t. He truly hadn’t.

He hadn’t cried then, waiting to have his heart torn from him, but he had to bite his lip and clench his fists hard to keep from doing so. But when Hotohori turned to him and said…

A slow, dreamy smile spread over Nuriko’s face, hidden by his arms, and his cheeks flushed a gentle pink. A gull cried overhead, but he ignored it, still watching the water, and remembering…when Hotohori had turned to him with sorrow in his eyes…

~*~

"I have been thinking a great deal about the upcoming mission, and…while it is naturally very important to locate and obtain the Shinzaho, I don’t think it’s necessary to draw too much attention to our efforts by sending a mob of foreigners into Hokkan. I…I don’t think you should go."

Nuriko stared at the emperor in shock, took in the drawn eyebrows, the slightly pursed lips…Hotohori, too, was standing with his fists curled, arms rigid at his sides. The golden eyes were shadowed, sad and worried.

For the longest time, there was silence in the room, and the purple-haired seishi gradually lowered his eyes to the floor. The only sense he could make of the situation was that Hotohori did not trust in his abilities, or else…or else… Nuriko swallowed the huge lump that had formed in his throat, and conjured up a response that did not sound as choked as he had feared. "H…Hotohori-sama, I…I know what you must think, but I promise…I can protect Miaka. And I won’t…I won’t try anything funny, s-so…"

"Funny?" The fine eyebrows drew together even more, adding puzzlement to the taller man’s mottled expression. "I don’t understand."

Nuriko took a deep breath, finally managing to find his brightest smile, sticking it on his face like makeup. Laughing, he did his best to sound nonchalant. "Well, you know, Hotohori-sama…I know what everyone’s saying, and you’re probably getting a lot of grief for letting a pervert like me protect the…"

"Nuriko!"

"But she’s safe with me, I swear, I swear." He kept his voice from trembling, waved his hand as if it were no big deal. And then, out of nowhere…another hand grabbed his, soft and warm and smooth, and he realized that Hotohori was standing next to him, his eyes burdened with even more concern and anguish. The jaunty smile faltered with the surprise of it, but was quickly stuck into place once more as his arm was lowered, and the emperor seemed to stare right into his soul.

"Nuriko," came the beloved voice, calm and soothing despite the worry. "Do you think that is why I called you here? To mock you, humiliate you?"

The thought had crossed his mind, but he just smiled. "Hotohori-sama…I know you would never willingly do such a thing, but let’s face it, I’m not exactly the most popular person in the palace. And after Miaka summons Suzaku, I’ll leave, if you want; but please, I have to stay with her. I have to go to Hokkan; it’s my duty to protect her, even though I’m not needed for the ceremony."

"Have I given you the idea that I do not want you here?" Hotohori frowned.

"Well, I can understand it, you know, Hotohori-sama," Nuriko replied, hearing his voice begin to strain, feeling his smile begin to crack. "I’m sure it’s leaked out somehow, I mean, I must be pretty stupid, ne, to fall in love with you…"

It scared him, saying it out loud, because now, there was no going back. He couldn’t deny it, say it was a rumor or an act, and he felt like he was naked, body and soul bared to Hotohori’s golden eyes. He had broken off after the confession, searching frantically for a way out, when Hotohori said, in a near-whisper…

"I must be even more foolish, then, to have let myself love someone with whom duty denies me a life."

Something about his tone seemed strange to Nuriko, and he wondered why the emperor was telling him these things. But at least Hotohori seemed to be ignoring his own admission. So he, too, ignored it, as well as his sinking heart. "Even if Miaka is able to stay in this world, Hotohori-sama…I’m afraid she and Tamahome…"

And there was a hand on his forehead, stroking the fine hairs near his brow, smoothing them down. He had to stop himself from recoiling; it had been so long since anyone had touched him with such tenderness…and, struggling for footing, he found that he didn’t have the faintest idea what was going on, what to do, or what to say.

"Aaauhh…" was all he could get out.

"Nuriko…you know I can never be with you. I’m the emperor, after all. I have a duty to perform…I must give the country an heir, or so many things could fall apart. An emperor’s life leaves no place for love. You must know that." Hotohori’s gaze was intent, his eyes locked on his shorter companion’s, unwavering. "But if it did…if I could…"

The fact that Hotohori seemed to be taking the time to explain to him, quite gently, the logic of the situation was enough to tug at Nuriko’s heart. But when the emperor trailed off, when strong hands found his shoulders and drew him forward so that his face touched the red silk of Hotohori’s chest, he felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to cry… And a little voice in the back of his head announced quietly that he hadn’t been talking about Miaka…

"I don’t want you to go tomorrow," the taller man said quietly against his temple. He seemed to choose his words carefully, almost hesitantly, as if he didn’t quite know what he was doing. "I want you to be safe…if something happens, I want you to be safe."

"Hotohori-sama…!" Nuriko whispered, confused, his head spinning. "I…"

"I tried to imagine…what it would be like, to have all of you gone for the first time since the day Miaka and Tamahome arrived in the palace. What it would be like to be alone again, and…I will miss you, Nuriko, if you go." Hotohori’s voice had grown small, a strange thing to hear in one so powerful. "You have always been there for me, even when my pining over Miaka must have been causing you pain, and I could not see your anguish right before my eyes…you hide it well, you know, but I can see it now, and I won’t let you hide it anymore."

Nuriko thought that was just as well, as he was on the verge of completely losing control. It was all so surreal, that Hotohori would ever know him so well, would ever take the time to look at him long enough to see what was hidden. He closed his eyes and wondered if this was just a joke; maybe Tasuki set it up, maybe it was just a joke…

"We can never be together…but…" the emperor took a breath. "I would be lying if I said I didn’t care for you. Deeply. I would be lying if I said…that I didn’t love you. As much as I can love anyone, I love you, Nuriko. And I don’t want you to go."

That was when he started to cry; short, breathy sobs that were nearly silent, his back trembling as Hotohori held him closer, enfolding him in yards of imperial fabric. He had tried his best to keep the dam from breaking, but to hear those words after so many years of loneliness…to hear those words from the very man to whom his heart belonged…

It was a joke. He thought it had to be, because no one loved him, not really. It was nice to hear, of course…perhaps it wasn’t a joke, but more of a morale-booster for the journey ahead. That had to be it. So he said as much, through tears that seemed as thick as blood.

"Y…you…shouldn’t say such things, or I…or I might…believe you…" He tried to laugh, but it just came out as slightly louder sobs. He wanted it to be real, how he wanted it to be real…

And then, he was being pushed gently away from the warm, welcoming embrace; two hands found his cheeks and held his face, but he kept his eyes closed, his head tilted down, wishing he wasn’t such an idiot for crying. It was too late, though. Once it had started, it would be difficult to stop. It always worked that way.

Next came the soft pressure on his lips that made his eyes fly open, shimmering, to be met with Hotohori’s long eyelashes right before him; his heart began to flutter in his chest, and he was certain they could hear it in Kutou. It wasn’t long before the emperor broke away from the kiss—for it had been a kiss, Nuriko’s mind registered with something akin to happy panic. His beautiful eyes opened slowly, slight lines around them giving away the fact that, though he could not see that far, Hotohori was smiling slightly. "Why would I say something if I did not intend for it to be believed?"

And Nuriko could do nothing but stare at him, chest heaving, eyes wide open but pooling with more and more tears until he was certain that both he and Hotohori would drown before the conversation had ended. Would Hotohori have kissed him if it were only a prank? Would he be able to speak these words so solemnly, so passionately, if it were only to give him courage?

"I cannot give you much more than that," the emperor continued, the smile turning gently sad. "I cannot give you much at all. But I can save you from danger; it could be your life, Nuriko. Please…please, stay with me in Kounan. If I could go with you, it would be different; I could protect you. But if anything should happen…"

Nuriko smiled through his tears, a tentative but genuine smile this time, reaching up to place his own hands on the ones that held him. He was warm, filled with a warmth that had started inside him and spread through all parts of his body, even the smallest. "Hotohori-sama…do you…do you really…"

The hand returned to his brow, resting gently on his hair. "I tried not to," the emperor admitted softly, almost shamefully. "I did. But you…you made it very hard for me." The smaller man’s pale cheeks tinged themselves with pink, and Hotohori gave a tiny chuckle before drawing Nuriko against him once more. "However hard it might be to know we can’t ever be together, not really…wouldn’t it be harder to ignore what we feel? Perhaps it’s selfish of me, for if I never loved you, perhaps you would be able to move on…"

"No! Oh, Hotohori-sama…" Nuriko was back to crying, although, come to think of it, he hadn’t ever really stopped. Burying his face in the folds of cloth, he wrapped his arms around the emperor as tightly as he could without causing the man internal damage. "I’m so glad you told me, I’m so glad you told me…thank you…thank you…" Those words he repeated over and over again, fading into a whisper, coupled with gasping little sobs of happiness.

When he had regained enough control of himself, he pulled reluctantly away to look into the smiling face of the man he loved…the man who now loved him. He couldn’t stop sniffling, and it made him laugh; not the fake, strained laughter he had previously employed, but sincere. Hotohori’s smile broadened as he swept the tears from Nuriko’s cheeks, and Nuriko again blushed shyly. In his fantasies, he had always been suave and knew exactly how to react; reality, he found, was very different.

"So you’ll stay?" the emperor asked hopefully, perfectly expecting to be obeyed.

Nuriko felt a pain in his heart, the lonely pain of earlier days, melancholy and morose. How wonderful it would be to stay at Hotohori’s side, to sit with him and comfort him while the others were away…to share in his isolation, so that he wouldn’t have to wait alone in silence, cooped up in his palatial prison. But Miaka…

"…Nuriko?" No doubt Hotohori was confused by his silence, and sounded a bit anxious, as well.

"I…I can’t stay," the smaller seishi said, nearly whispering. His heart didn’t exactly break, but it twisted, threatening to twist in two between duty and love. He felt cruel; after all, Hotohori had only just crossed the boundaries of his own duty to say the things he had. But it was Miaka in question, not the opinions of the imperial advisors, and he couldn’t let her go without him. "I would if I could, truly I would…but I can’t, Hotohori-sama, I…she needs me. She needs me with her, and she has to be safe…" Tears of happiness replaced themselves with tears of frustration, and he swallowed. "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry; if I could have both at once, if I could be at both places at once…"

Without a word, Hotohori embraced him, the truth and the pain evident in his own face. Nuriko fell back into the warmth, eyes closed once again, thinking he could very easily stay in those arms and never leave, and live out the rest of his days in bliss. He was loved. He was loved.

"I…I am the one who should apologize," Hotohori said finally, and Nuriko could hear from the choked quality of his voice that he, too, was fighting tears. Perhaps succeeding where Nuriko had not. "I should not have asked such a thing of you; I know, I know you must go. I thought…I thought I could keep you here, for my own peace of mind. I was wrong, and for that I am sorry. Miaka is more important than either one of us. But if anything should happen to you…" his grip tightened around Nuriko’s shoulders, "I don’t think I could ever be the same. Whatever you do in Hokkan, Nuriko…wherever you go…be safe."

The purple head nodded against the broad chest, barely trusting itself to speak. "Just don’t forget me, Hotohori-sama…ne?" It was said jovially, but with an aching, heartfelt plea behind it that was hidden to neither of them.

The emperor’s chest vibrated as he chuckled. "After all that it took to get here, do you really think I would let you go?"

~*~

He had everything to look forward to upon the return from Hokkan. So why on earth was he crying again? What was a few more months, when half a lifetime had passed and left his heart lonely? At least now, he had beautiful amber eyes to think of at night… at least now, there was a handsome face that was his to cherish, to keep him company, for a time, at least…

There were phantom hands on his face, stroking and comforting…but even they made him bury his head farther into the crook of his arm, because the loving touch he had been awaiting for so long would be so far away. True, he had lived for years on his dreams, but hadn’t he been patient? Hadn’t he waited long enough? But it had been his own decision to leave, and he knew he had made the right choice.

"Oi, Nuri-chan! Tryin to avoid us?"

Quickly, Nuriko wiped his face on his sleeve, spinning around to face Tasuki with what he hoped was a convincing smile. "N-no, I…I was just watching the water…"

The red-haired bandit peered at him suspiciously. "What, ya get splashed in the face or somethin?"

Mortified, the shorter seishi turned back to the sea, scrubbing hard at his cheeks. "H…hai! Splashed, that’s all…" Before he knew it, he felt Tasuki’s warm presence at his side, their forearms almost touching. Almost unconsciously, he turned his head away, pretending to look at something in the opposite direction so that his companion wouldn’t see the puffiness to his eyes that had obviously not been caused by splashing. "So… Tamahome hasn’t tossed you in yet, ne?"

Tasuki gave an unamused growl. "Like he could. Fuckin punk. Next time I see him, he’s fuckin toast."

Nuriko smiled, and they stood there for a few long minutes, simply staring out at the horizon. It wouldn’t be so bad, after all, with Tasuki and Tamahome and the others with him…he might have to keep an eye on that tessen, to prevent any unnecessary "accidents"…

"Oh, yeah," Tasuki said suddenly, making Nuriko forget his puffy eyes and turn to face his friend. If he’d noticed, though, the bandit didn’t even flinch, simply jerking his head in the direction of the main deck and saying, "Someone wanted to talk to ya down there, Iunno…might be important, or some shit."

Blinking, Nuriko pulled away from the side of the ship, instinctively straightening his tunic. "R…really? Who? Miaka?"

Tasuki shrugged, and tossed him a fanged grin that said he wasn’t telling. More than slightly puzzled, Nuriko made his way to the other side of the ship, slightly foggy from his tears. He wondered why Tasuki was being so annoyingly secretive, and braced himself for some kind of practical joke…a bucket dropped on his head, a wet patch on the wooden floor, anything that could send him sprawling overboard or drench him with saltwater or bury him in fish. Stepping carefully, he was examining the deck beneath his feet when he heard a familiar, quiet voice speak from nearby:

"If that is how you intend to search for the Shinzaho, I fear we might do well to set up personal residence in Hokkan."

Nuriko froze, snapping his head up, thinking that he’d heard wrong, or else his imagination was running away with him. But as it turned out, neither one was true, and it really was Hotohori standing there, a warm smile on his handsome face, dressed in his peasants clothes, which still seemed to be made of silk… His breath caught in his throat, and he flung himself at the taller seishi, nearly tripping over his own two feet in the process; but Hotohori was there to catch him, wrapping his arms around him with a gleeful, almost carefree laugh.

"You’re here," Nuriko quavered unbelievingly. "You’re here…you came!"

"Of course," replied Hotohori, the affection evident in his voice, making the other seishi nearly tremble with happiness. "After all that it took to get here…do you really think I would let you go?"

Tasuki: What, ya get splashed in the face, or somethin?

Nuriko: Yeahhh…that’s it!

Tasuki: Nahh, you’re CRYIN!!!!

Nuriko: No, I’m not!

Tasuki: YEAH, ya are!

Nuriko: No, I’m not!! It’s…it’s…it’s PMS!!!

Tasuki: …!!!

Nuriko: ^^;;;;;;;;

Tasuki: GET OVER IT!!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE A FUCKIN GUY!!!!!

Nuriko: **makes Tasuki a wall angel**