No, this is NOT a Nuriko/Hotohori fic. I personally am not much for that kind of story, but hey, to each his own, ne? Besides, there are already too many of those as it is. I like to try to be at least a LITTLE original. ^_^; This is Nuriko’s thoughts on when he might have realized he loved Miaka. Also on what his life might have been like before he met Miaka, such as how he came to serve in Hotohori’s harem. Just how DID he manage that, anyway, without getting caught? You’d think the women were bound to notice some things! O.o; Spoilers are mild, from the beginning up until they’re about to depart for Hokkan.

by Stormlight

When did I fall in love with her? It had happened so suddenly, I think, or maybe it had happened slowly; so slowly that I never even saw it coming, until it was too late. We had started out as such rivals, although that, I’m rather ashamed to admit, was mostly on my part. It wasn’t her fault that the one I’d fancied myself in love with loved her, instead. It had been a hopeless dream, anyway, and I had always known it. But it was the one dream that I could not…would not…give up. For if I did that, everything I’d already given up for my imouto-chan’s sake would have all been for naught.

I sit with her beneath the canopy of the willow tree growing along the river, watching as she determinedly weaves small water lilies into a type of crown. I smile as her hands clumsily weave the wet stems together, listening as she hums to herself; a strange melody that I have never heard before. Probably a song from her world, I realize, and as always I feel a sense of wonder that a living legend is sitting before me, and that I, Cho Ryuen, have been destined from birth to serve her.

I was not always so proud of my position as a Suzaku Seishi, however. When I was a child, I would often dream of a bright phoenix with burning feathers and fierce eyes. Within his wings he held the form of a young woman, and dancing around them were the stars of Konan’s seven constellations. I had always known that I was one of those constellations, and that the bird was Suzaku. But I had always, in truth, resented the small, glowing symbol—the Willow—that branded my chest; that marked me for life and made me a slave to Suzaku’s bidding. Why should I, after all, be forced to serve a deity who could so cruelly allow an innocent child to die, as my imouto-chan had?

I did not yet understand the way Destiny works, although even then it had been playing a large hand in my life. Nobody understood my need to keep Korin alive in my heart, and the more they protested the more determined I became to do so. My family was ashamed of me, and afraid of the consequences my conduct might bring upon them. When I was summoned to the emperor’s court to serve in his harem, my mother begged me not to go. "You will be killed if you are discovered, and our family will be cast out in disgrace!" she had cried, clutching the sleeves of my robe. "We have kept your secret for years, for your own protection. What do you think will happen should you be chosen? The emperor will not like being made a fool of!"

Of course what she said made perfect sense, but I have always been stubborn, and no amount of pleading would make me change my mind. Something was calling me to the palace—I understand now what that something was—and I was going to go, with or without her blessing.

After a year in the harem, however, with Heika barely sparing a passing glance at me since that one brief meeting—or any of the other women, for that matter—I soon started to believe that perhaps it had only been my imagination. I still told myself that I loved him, so much so that I began to fantasize of what might happen should he actually come to his senses and choose me as his wife. He was being pressured, I’d heard, to take an empress and produce an heir, especially with the growing threat of war between Konan and the neighboring empire, Kutou. Of course, the fact that I was a man always seemed to slip my mind, and that producing an heir between us would be well nigh impossible. And then there was Hotohori’s possible reaction upon the discovery of my little secret on our wedding night…but those were negative thoughts, and I always like to think positively, after all.

And then…she arrived.

Yuuki Miaka.

Suzaku no Miko.

And Fate took me by the throat and began to strangle me.

In truth, it was not only Heika’s love for the Miko that set my fur to bristling, although that was rather adding insult to injury. What had made me truly resent the girl was the fact that, no matter how desperately I had sought to escape my destiny, it had still managed to follow me.

No, that wasn’t quite right. It hadn’t followed me. I had been led to it, all unknowing, like a lamb to the slaughter. She, I now realize, was the reason I’d been so drawn to the palace, despite the danger I put my life in (although I doubt I was ever in any real danger from Heika). I was her Seishi, and I would serve her whether I wanted to or not. Still, that didn’t keep me from fighting my fate every step of the way. The one who had taken my beloved Korin from me would not win this battle.

Or so I thought.

What had made things even harder was the fact that, as much as I longed to dislike her, I found her to be just so…likable! It seemed the more I pushed her away, the more determined she became to befriend me, and the more I found myself relenting beneath the force of her sweet nature. I told myself she held no real liking for me, that under that supposed guise of friendship she was as cold-hearted as a snake. Living in the harem for a year, among the petty bickering and fierce rivalry of the women, I suppose I had become rather jaded. I seemed to have forgotten the concept of what true friendship was. Or had I ever known it in the first place? I felt the only reason she wanted to befriend me was because she needed me, if she was to complete her task and summon Suzaku. Why else would she go so far as to swallow her pride and offer to become my personal maid? She had to have known what I would do to her!

The irony of the situation is not lost on me, even now. The Miko I was destined to serve…serving me, instead? It was simply too delicious an opportunity to pass up, and indeed I made the most of it. I admit freely that I had been a complete shrew to her…although I suppose there are worse words for it. I worked her harder than any human being deserves, found constant things to complain about, made fun of everything she said or did…but she gritted her teeth and took it all in stride.

I used Heika’s deep love for Miaka as an excuse to vent my rage at the unfairness of my situation, even though I could see even then that she did not return his devotion. I knew how much she cared for Tamahome, the first of the Seishi that she had met, her protector, and her destined soulmate, although Tamahome was too dense to realize this at the time (which might have saved both of them a lot of heartache if he had, the baka). So I kept him from her, monopolized him—and terrorized him in the process, I’m afraid—openly flaunting him in front of her until she was no doubt ready to explode with jealousy. I’d intended to make her feel as helpless as I felt, wanting her to lose control so that Heika and Tamahome would realize that she wasn’t the sweet, kindhearted girl she appeared to be. But she never fought back, no matter how much she wanted to, I’m sure. The patience of that girl is astounding, really. I know, were our positions reversed, that I would have knocked myself through a wall and been done with it.

What had I hoped to accomplish by making her my enemy? My pride was greater than my common sense, it seemed, and to give in to my fate was to admit defeat. That simply wouldn’t do. Never mind that poor Miaka had been thrust into this even harder than I had been. She was of another world. She had been brought to Konan against her will, leaving behind everything she knew, no doubt terrified of her situation despite Tamahome and Heika’s company. Why should she take part in a war that did not even concern her? And yet that is exactly what she agreed to do, all of her own free will. Her selflessness had made me resent her even more, at first. It forced me to face myself, and I realized that, as strong as I am on the outside, on the inside she is so much stronger.

True, she wanted to go home again, and Suzaku had the power to send her there, but was becoming his Miko truly the only way? We discovered later, of course, that it was not. Taiitsukun-sama had, after all, sent her home after she’d collapsed.

When she’d taken ill, I knew very well that it was at least partly my fault for being so cruel when she was already under such stress. Guilt was not an emotion I was accustomed to feeling, but it had hit me with all the force of a hurricane then, and I wasn’t very happy about it. So I took it out on Tamahome, having overheard his conversation with Miaka in the alley, and knowing that it was his cold rejection that had finally done her in. But it had made me uneasy to realize that he had treated her much the same way I always did. I needed a scapegoat to ease my own guilt, and he was the perfect target. And when Heika suggested seeking out Taiitsukun-sama and pleading her help to send Miaka back, I was overjoyed. Of course I would go with them; the sooner Suzaku no Miko returned to her own world, the better off I would be!

Little had I known…

It was when we had traveled to Mount Daikyokuzan to find Taiitsukun-sama, and had faced the first true test from the creator herself, that my respect for Miaka had begun to grow by leaps and bounds. When I saw her laying there in a pool of her own blood, after her dark reflection had been destroyed, and realized that she had stabbed herself in order to save our lives, my astonishment was complete. We were the ones who were supposed to protect her, not the other way around, and yet she selflessly had disregarded her own life to defend us…even me, who certainly did not deserve to be defended. It was at that moment, I believe, that I finally put aside my pride and fully accepted my destiny as Suzaku Sichiseishi Nuriko, to serve Miaka as her protector. And perhaps, I am forced to wonder, that was also when I had unknowingly began to love her.

She has finished the crown she was weaving, and now she places it on my head, forcing my thoughts back to the moment at hand. Blinking, I look down at the smiling face looking expectantly back at me, waiting for my usual outburst of insults. She enjoys teasing me, it seems, as much as I enjoy teasing her, but no longer is there maliciousness behind the barbs, only playful affection. I know she looks at me as a brother, as she does all of us. If only I could see her as a younger sister. It would be so much easier. I long to tell her how I feel, but never would I destroy her happiness with Tamahome. After having been witness to their love story and all the trials they overcame to make their happy ending, how could I do that to her? Still she believes that my affections lie with the emperor. Best I leave it that way…for now.

Her expression is cheerful, warming my heart as it always does, but in her eyes I can see the traces of sadness lingering. Only two days past since the failed summoning of Suzaku, and the death of one whom we had called friend. Chiriko—no, Amiboshi—had received his just punishment for his betrayal, but it had hit all of us hard, Miaka especially. Even after all he did, she still considers him a friend, and I know that she mourns his death.

"Cheer up, Miaka-chan," I scold gently, reaching out to lightly tap her nose with my finger. "I hate to see sadness in your eyes."

She looks startled; it isn’t very often that I express concern for her well-being, although she knows I care. "I’m fine, Nuriko-san," she replies sheepishly, blushing a little around her smile. "I guess I’m still just trying to figure things out." Her expression turns melancholy. "I still can’t help thinking that…there must have been some way to save him." Hazel eyes rise to meet mine. "You know he wasn’t an evil person, ne, Nuriko-san?" she asks pleadingly. "He was just misguided, that’s all. Like Yui-chan…"

Of course he wasn’t evil, I want to tell her. Anyone who could gain her friendship and affection cannot be evil. And she is right. Yui isn’t evil, either. She is as trapped as Miaka is in her own fated role. Funny how such a situation seems to make my own past problems unimportant and trivial. I push my ashamed thoughts aside as I wrap a comforting arm about Miaka’s shoulders and do my best to cheer her up. There is nothing more precious to me, I realize, than to be able to hold this girl in my arms like this. Even though I may never be able to freely love her as I want to, this is enough for me, and it is a blessing from Suzaku that she should show even this much affection for me.

From the palace, I hear Tamahome calling for Miaka; we are all to go to the docks to see the ship Heika has given us for our upcoming journey to Hokkan. Reluctantly I let her go, getting to my feet and lending her a helping hand up. I can see that she is still upset over something; no doubt worry about the upcoming journey is the reason behind the apprehension in her eyes. Her confidence in herself, I know, has been severely diminished by what had happened at the summoning.

As she starts toward the palace, I grip her hand tightly and turn her to face me, staring earnestly into her eyes as my hands come up to cradle her face. "Miaka-chan," I tell her, "before we leave, I just want you to know that I am glad I am your Seishi. It’s an honor to protect you, and I will do so with my life. You are among friends, and I tell you that every one of us is willing to die for you, if need be. You don’t need to be afraid."

"No! I don’t want anyone else to die!" she gasps, her eyes growing wide with horror. "How can I lose you, Nuriko? How can I lose any of you?" She throws her arms around me compulsively, and I return her embrace almost fiercely.

"How can any of us lose you?" I whisper in her ear, stroking her soft hair comfortingly. "You are the reason we were born. You helped me find myself, Miaka. I’ll forever be grateful to you for that."

Tamahome calls again, sounding more impatient, and Miaka lets me go. I can tell she doesn’t fully understand what I’d told her; she seems slightly startled at my display of seriousness, but she smiles her thanks all the same and turns to skip ahead, playfully calling out for Tamahome to quit bellowing like a foghorn, whatever that is.

I smile sadly as I follow her, watching her retreating back. I know she has doubts about her looks sometimes; she’s confessed as much to me in the past, concerned that she isn’t pretty enough for Tamahome. What can I tell her? In my eyes, she is beautiful. No matter what, I vow, she will live to see the end of this. Nothing will happen to her so long as I’m alive. A bit conceited of me, perhaps, since there are seven of us, but why do I feel that I am the only one who can truly protect her? I suppose it’s much the same way Tamahome, and even Heika, feel. I smile wryly at the thought. If I’m starting to think like them, I guess I truly have changed!

Still, it is reassuring to know that she has Tamahome to lean on, and that should anything happen to me she will not be alone. I’m glad in my heart that they can be together, although there is still the part of me that wishes I could take his place. But I have learned that Destiny cannot be changed.

Somewhere, perhaps there is someone waiting for me, my own true soul mate. Perhaps the happiness I long for can yet be discovered. Until that time comes, I, Nuriko, will continue to protect Suzaku no Miko with my life.

And above all else…I will always continue to love her.