I have to see her... I have to know...

Shunn gazed at the sky, searching for the star he had named after his mother.

"Furiko..."

"Yeah?" A broad-chested guard yawned, inhaling the midnight air. Despite of his fatigued body and the frigid fog forming at his feet, Friko maintained his post.

"Did’ya hear what Yuri overheard this afternoon from the Royal Advisors?" The two watchmen engaged in conversation while stationed at the Southern Gate.

Not again!, Furiko thought to himself. I swear this guy is gay. "No. I don’t recall hearing anything from him."

"He says that those old farts were planning to have another one of those real fancy masquerades."

"So?" Furiko yawned again, seemingly aloof and phlegmatic.

"Here’s the real deal." Shunn explained, almost whispering in a "hush-hush" way.

But what if she doesn’t feel the same way...

Shunn faced him. "They’re having it because they think the Emperor has the hots for the Suzaku No Miko and they think she ain’t Empress material." He looked around for anybody who might be listening.

"They’re inviting all the high-class women in the country so the Emperor would marry someone else."

Furiko just closed his eyes and shook his head. Mother always said that gossiping was for girls.

"And the real joke is," Shunn continued to speak, "that they think the Emperor’s in love with this Suzaku girl." He let out a throaty chuckle then snorted through his nose. "Not even!" Shunn exclaimed in a high-pitched voice.

This guy’s pathetic. Positively gay. I think I should request to be stationed somewhere away from this guy.

"Oh really...?"

"Yeah, really." Shunn smiled. "Here’s another fresh gossip I heard from that new recruit... He says that Nuriko is really a man!" He snorted again.

This is gonna be a very, very long night. Furiko drew out his sword and took out a small bottle of oil from his pouch.

"What will they think of next? That Nakago is gay?!?" Shunn collected some phlegm from his throat and spat on the ground. "So anyways, back to that new recruit... I think he has a nice butt..."

As the guards continue to consort with each other, the soul of another restless mortal haunts the Eastern Palace grounds...

She has to know. Hotohori opened the door of her chambers. His long dusky hair flowing, his robes barely touching the floors.

The Palace Courts are all dark now. The crescent moon luminous, piercing his skin. A lamp hanging from his hand, it’s strings wrapped around his fingers.

The thought of never knowing tortures my soul... Closing the door behind him, he steps inside, clutching his robes against bare flesh, his quivering hand still holding the lamp.

Hotohori approached the bed and shined the light on her face. She is sleeping. Her body under thick blankets. Her chest rising and falling in unison with her sedated breathing.

"You’re so beautiful, Miaka." He placed the lamp on the table near the door and sat on the chair he had moved to the side of the bed.

He touched her hair and traced the fragile curves of her face.

"So beautiful..." He leaned by the bed and touched her hand, feeling the warmth of her blood, plasma pulsating through every vein.

"Oh, Miaka," he said under his breath. "If you would only let me..."

He lowered his face and pressed her hand against his cheek, palm cupping his seductive face. He exhaled, kissing the inside of her hand. Then gently laying it down to her side.

The flame in the lamp danced and flickered, tinting Miaka’s face with a glorious hue.

Hotohori got up on his feet and picked up his robes. This is not the right time, not the right place, he thought to himself, Maybe tomorrow...

As he reached for the lamp, Miaka murmured, "Hotohori... Hoto... hori..."

He looked back at her. To his dismay, she was not awake, only talking in her sleep. "Please...don’t leave..." She inhaled deeply and fell back into her

slumber. Her lips making the tiniest O.

Hotohori knelt by the bed, his robe loose. He reached for her hand.

"I’m right here," he said. "I promise I won’t go." His silken hair

grazing the sheets.

He leaned into her, and, slowly, so gently, pressed his soft lips on hers.

"EEE! PERVERT!!!" Miaka jabbed Hotohori on the face with her brass knuckles in shock of seeing a stranger before her.

"Auugghhhh......" Hotohori groaned, lying on his back. Eyes now open, Miaka grabbed her flashlight and directed the beam of light on his face, his right cheek a bit swollen and purple.

Miaka sat up. "Hotohori, what are you doing here!?"

He stood up and straightened his robes.

"Miaka, I can explain----"

BANG! The door opened with immense force.

"We heard a scream. Is everything all right?" Three brawny men came in with their swords drawn out of their sheaths. The brown-haired guard came in, carrying a lamp.

"Everything is all right. You may go." Hotohori ordered them calmly.

"Who are you?" The guard asked.

Hotohori stepped forward into the light for the lamp he had brought was slowly dying out. Immediately, the guards bowed before him.

"Sire, forgive us for questioning your order," one of the guards pleaded. "We apologize for the intrusion."

"I heard the Suzaku No Miko scream and came to her rescue. She said

it was just a bad dream. You may return to your posts." Hotohori

waved to signal their dismissal.

At once, the guards closed the door as they left the room

Hotohori advanced to Miaka’s bed again. Slipping into her white robe,

Miaka removed her brass knuckles and tucked it under a pillow.

"I came to your room to ask you about something." Hotohori reached into his pockets and took out a ring carved entirely out of jade with diamond encrusted on the outside.

Miaka stood up and, either hypnotized with it’s beauty or in utter confusion, kept silent.

"Miaka, will you be my Empress?" His enticing voice lingering in the air. Hotohori held her hand and slipped the ring on her finger.

She looked at it, but was speechless. And this time in certainty of absolute bewilderment.

Hotohori gently touched her chin with his fingers and drew her close to him. Miaka closed her eyes, his lips pressed on hers, and his long fingers slipped around her neck, thumbs gently touching her jaw and then her cheeks. He was cradling her in his hands, his fingers, by her neck, tenderly. Chills ran over her, up her back, and down the backs of her arms. Hotohori slowly opened his mouth, his pulse accelerating.

Miaka had a thousand pictures going through her mind. And a million emotions. And then there was Tamahome. His ambrosial lips kissing her. The reminiscence of the vigor and musk of Tamahome’s skin when he would have his arms around her. His strong hands on her small of her back...

Miaka pulled away.

"I can’t do this," she turned away from him. Tamahome’s alive. I just know it...

"What’s wrong?" Hotohori asked. "Is it about me?"

Miaka sighed and glanced at him. She seemed about to speak, but didn’t. After a short silence, she finally spoke.

"It’s not you... It’s me." For a minute there, she thought she heard this from somewhere. Like from some soap opera on TV.

"Is it Tamahome? Is he the one you love?"

"Yes..." She looked at him, but not his eyes. "And no." She sat on her bed again. "What if I wanted to see my family again? If I become the Empress, the people will not let me go back to my world. I will be bound by the chains of royalty..." She paused then raised her head to meet his lovely eyes. "Like the way you are..."

"Is that what you want me to do, Miaka?" He asked, a bit outraged. "Abandon my people and my responsibility just for you?" His eyes wide, but his voice still calm.

"I didn’t say that---" she objected, but her words cut short by Hotohori.

"If that will bring you happiness, then I will. I will leave my world and live in yours. If it will make you stay with me, I will force myself to forget that I was once an Emperor and sacrifice everything for you. I’ll do anything." He sat beside her, wrapping his fingers over her trembling hands.

"You scare me, Hotohori. What are you talking about?" Miaka asked, trying to avoid his hypnotic gaze.

"What else do you want from me, Miaka? Is my love not good enough for you?" He let go of her hands and stood before her. His robes loose, exposing his well-built chest.

"Wakarimashita... I apologize for talking to you about these matters in such an ungodly hour." He took her hand and kissed it. "I knew this wasn’t the right time nor the right place. But I allowed my emotions to control my actions. Gomen." He released her hand and turned around, and walked to the door, entering the darkness.

"Wait," Miaka stood up. "I have something to tell you."

His face appeared out of the gloom, the fire in the lamp reflecting upon his eyes.

I can do this... Piece of cake... Cake! I think I can use a midnight snack just about now. "I think it’s about time that you should know something," Miaka said, trying to forget about the thought of eating cake, and avoiding his eyes. "I apologize for misleading you." She bit her lower lip.

"I... I don’t understand..." Hotohori’s words filled with confusion.

"I don’t love you, Hotohori. It was all a joke." Did I say that right?

What does she think of me? A joke? A mere jest?!? A jolt of pain that completely destroyed Hotohori’s conviction sent a lump stuck in his throat. He wanted to scream and curse the heavens. To beat Tamahome’s face to a bloody pulp. But nothing came out. And he couldn’t do anything. Hurting Tamahome would be like hurting Miaka herself. He had fury burning in his furnace. And yet he wasn’t capable of hating her. I won’t let her get rid of me, he thought to himself. And after pronouncing his undying love for her, this is what he gets?!?

"I’m sorry for not being completely honest with you." Miaka couldn’t stand witness to the demise of Hotohori’s soul. What if Tamahome comes back? I’ll just end up breaking your heart. She turned around, facing away from him. "I think you should leave." I guess it’s better not to get involved.

He walked to her, dragging his robes. Hotohori couldn’t explain what

he was feeling. Fury? Disappointment? Hate? LOVE!?!?!

He gently grabbed her arm and faced her to him. "Then look me in the eyes and say that you don’t love me. And while you’re at it, slap me right across my face for being such a fool," his voice now loud and persuasive.

Just take a deep breath... Breath in... Breath Out... Miaka inhaled air with a faint scent of jasmine and aloe. She held her head up and started at his luscious lips, up to his chiseled cheekbones... and then to his eyes...

Miaka saw something she had never seen before. Something she thought never existed. She looked into his eyes and saw fire barely held in check by his concern for her. And in a way, she craved that fire.

"Just say it, Miaka," He said firmly. "Say you feel nothing for me and that I was in vain and deceit for thinking that you would ever love me."

Miaka tried to shut her eyes. This beautiful angel professing his eternal love for her and yet the hope of Tamahome’s return plagues her mind.

"Have you lost your tongue!?" Hotohori almost yelled, agitated and almost uncertain.

If Tamahome was alive and still loves me constantly, than he should have returned at least a month ago... To come to think about it, I do feel something for Hotohori but I’m not sure if what I feel is love. Or do I just care for him as a friend and a Seishi? Miaka was indecisive, unsure of what to do.

"I am in no position to demand for an answer. And neither can I force you to love me." Hotohori walked away, leaving Miaka feeling abandoned. "I’ll see you in the morning..."

"Hey," Miaka exclaimed. "Not fair!" She walked in front of Hotohori, stopping him with an extended arm. "Aren’t you at least gonna wait for me to answer your question?!?"

"I think your silence was enough of an answer to my question. So I am off to my room to sulk over my utter loss." Hotohori lifted his robes off the floor. "Maybe I’ll meet some woman of noble blood to marry at that damned masquerade... Maybe then will those old fools stop pestering me on matrimonial affairs..." He whispered to himself, barely audible.

Am I doing the right thing here? What if everything I feel is a lie? If Tami-kun turns up dead... What about me? What if Hotohori marries someone else? What if I can’t go back to my world? I don’t what to end up alone all my life! then my whole life will be a big fat LIE! I can learn to love him, I guess...

"Well," Miaka smiled and moved a step toward Hotohori. He, in return, moved a step back. "Do you really want to know what I have to say....?" Miaka made another step and Hotohori left with no choice but to back-up once more.

"So...?" Miaka moved closer and poor Hotohori seemed dubious that he can escape Miaka’s "wrath". "What do you say, Your Highness?"

Hotohori continues this odd dance with Miaka until he is right in front of the bed, no more floor space to back-up on.

Why does she cause me so much suffering? One minute, she so prudish and reserved, the next, she’s acting bold, cocky, and provoking... She will agonize me no longer.

"Miaka, let us end this game..." And at the same time, they lock in a affectionate embrace, pressing their bodies together. As her lips touch his, they land on the bed, her fingers entangled with his satiny hair.

The kerosene in the lamp is gone, the flame fading out.

Hotohori rose on top of Miaka, his hair fell down on her face with delicious silkiness. He, idly, started taking of her robe and unbuttoned the first knob on her nightgown. Before he could reach his tepid hand inside her gown, Miaka pushed Hotohori under her and he landed on his back.

The lamp has died. No fire, no flame. Pitch black. Darkness embracing them.

She opened his robe, clearing his hair away from his face. Pressed her lips on his in a brash manner, lips against lips, tongue against tongue. Pinning his wrists downs with her hands, her passionate kisses turned to tiny, rapid nips upon his shoulders. Eyes close and lips parted, Hotohori’s moan traveling through his body, his hairless chest rising to meet her lips. Her hands working on his loose pants, trying to unfasten the knots of emperial silk.....

TOCK TOCK TOCK!

TO: Y’ALL

Hola!

Name: Xaedo

Age: 16 (hey, I’m being honest)

Real name: Desdemona

Gender: F

Hey, so what d'ya think? (1)Sucky? (2)Nauseating? (3)Pathetic? (4)Unimaginably Sick? (5)Eternally Vomit-Stricken Porcine Feces? (6)Ill-minded? (7)Forever a Farty Fan-Fic or 4F? or was it (8)Okay-ish (in a sense that you'd read it because you were sent to burn in hell for all eternity and this fanfic was written in asbestos and was in the Devil's Library)? Or was it a bit (9)Pukey that it made you wanna gag your mouth with used toilet paper (completely covered with some BUSH concert port-o-potty alternative stranger's fecal matter)? or (10) all of the above.

If your comment is somewhat similar to the responses I just suggested above, just type the number indicated. If you have some really cool put-downs for my FF (fan-fic), please, I beg of you, share your talent! I will even get down on my knees and kiss the vomit-laden ground you have just walked upon.

Please e-mail the alien being who owns this web page, who, may I add, believes she's the partial reincarnation of Adolf Hitler, Cleopatra, and Mitsukake...

Merci! Gracias! Thankx!

Ohh...and...before I go, I ask only two things from you: (1) Your comment, and (2) the answer to this month's question... If Nakago turned into a girl, what would his name be? Answer this and you get a chance to hook-up with Taiitsukun for a one-night stand. For all the female folks out there who wishes to participate in our little promotional program... don't worry. Experimentation usually results a good experience. And it's Taiitsukun... What could go wrong?

I entitled my fan fic "I Love You So" because I came across "Sonnet 71" and I have outlined the story already and I predict that more than half of the cast will end up dead. I was going to leave it untitled but I didn’t want my FF to be known as "the-lemon-scented-fan-fic-that-Xaedo-chic-wrote".

So did you like chapter one of "I Love You So"? If you do, go tell all your friends and cyber friends about it cause in a few weeks or so maybe chapter two will be complete by then. If you totally thought chapter one was so pathetic and laugh-worthy, do the same thing. It’s always a pleasure to entertain y’all.

And finally, before I go, I leave my final words:

"Give me fuel. Give me fire. Give me that which I desire."

Metallica

FR: XAEDO

Hi Tessa!! @_@