Disclaimer: I disclaim Fushigi Yuugi and the song "Ships That Don’t Come In" by Joe Diffie. Italics are thoughts. In Japan (in case anyone's curious) it's usually last name then first name said when introducing yourself. I also some suffixes for the conversations: -san is used for someone you respect or is older than you, -kun is used between male friends and for a younger man, and –sama is for someone you really REALLY respect.

Crossroads Of Time And Souls

Kagayaki had WAY too much to drink that night. It made sense, seeing as how he had been there since the bar opened and was still there at midnight. And it appeared he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Fuckin’… goddammed motherfucking… he swore in his head, looking at his empty sake cup and slamming it to the ledge of the bar. This world sucks. I fucking hate my family, I fucking hate Sachi, I fucking hate my life! The anger boiled up in him like a fever, needing to be released. He wanted start another fight, but his arm and face still hurt from the last one and he decided against that. At least for the moment, he would content himself to drink more and more until he couldn’t even remember why he was there. "Mak!"

The bartender, a man with intimidating bulk and knowing eyes, stood in front of the drinker. "What?"

"I said, keep ‘em coming! I’ve got ‘n em’ty cup here!"

He leaned in front of him, his eyes serious. "Got any kane?"

It took a few minutes for Kagayaki to understand. Checking in his belt-pouch, he swore loudly and heroically when he realized he didn’t have any more. The barman laughed at the sound and took the cup away. "Sorry kid, but you’re through for the night. And you shoulda been through hours ago."

"Fuck you," Kagayaki growled under his breath, but it slurred too badly for Mak to really care. "Fuck all of you."

He stood up and found that, for some reason, his eyes didn’t really work. In fact, his legs weren’t doing too well either. He ended up slumping back onto the stool, missing the barman’s smug grin. Still, he wanted more of the blessed drink. Needed it, because memories and pain should be drowned and forgotten forever.

So Kagayaki was ready to threaten the first naïve and rich-looking man that came through the door when a sound caught his ears. It was rather loud, which was probably the only reason he heard it. Looking to his left, in the far corner, he could see a body lying on the ground next to a white-haired man, calmly sipping his drink.

Mak, who had come to read people better than any bartender he knew, spoke up. "Kid, I wouldn’t do that if I were you."

"Do what?" Kagayaki asked innocently (or what he thought was innocent). Mak snorted and explained.

"That man comes in here every Saturday right at midnight and doesn’t leave until three. Been coming here for the past ten years, ever since I started running the bar. Don’t know his name, don’t know where he came from, but every man that ever picks on him winds up kissing the floor. Quietest, most honorable guy I’ve met but it would do you well to keep away from him if you know what’s good for you." Mak ordered a few of his workers to pick up the fallen drunk and toss him to the street.

At this point in time, Kagayaki was so smashed he didn’t know up from down, much less good from bad. The only thing he cared about was the pouch hanging from the elder’s waist and how a few coins were peeking out the top.

So he waltzed (or staggered to be more accurate) on over to where the older man was sitting and managed to trip over a table leg. He had enough reflexes left to catch himself on the table.

All right… I’m here… he thought hazily.

His original plan was to try and convince the guy to lend him a few kane- just a few- but that was before he looked right into the other’s face.

The elder man was sipping his sake, some light tendrils of steam rising from the cup. Kagayaki figured it was just the alcohol talking, but he could swear that the steam was creating a pattern of kanji or some other unknown symbols of protection. The man’s face looked as if it could have been chiseled out of porcelain except for the telltale crow’s feet around his eyes and a few wrinkles caused by the necessity of aging. His long hair was tied in a simple ponytail, hanging almost to his waist, and matching bangs floated around his face.

But the thing that caught him the most were the eyes. They were a dark cinnamon that seemed to quickly shift to a light bronze in the right light. He looked right into them and knew that, despite the easy amusement they were currently showing there was a hardness that scared him right to the bone.

It shocked him damn near sober.

"Uhm… uhm… look, I’m sorry," he stuttered, trying to back up. "I was just… I just…"

"It’s all right," the white-haired man spoke gently. "Take a seat. You seem to be rather flushed."

Kagayaki could think of nothing else to do, so he pulled out the chair while never taking his eyes off this man. What is it about him, why the fuck is he scaring me?

"I don’t normally take well to thieves," he said behind the cup. "But I can see you still have a bit of sense left. That’s good. It kept you alive."

The drunkard licked his lips, nervous beyond words. "I’m just thirsty. Maybe you could-"

"No."

Though there was general chaos going on around the table, Kagayaki totally missed it. The abrupt silence sent a shiver up his back.

The elder continued. "From what I can see, you’ve had plenty enough already. Don’t go screwing yourself up."

He snarled in disgust. "You know what, I don’t want any advice. I don’t need advice! I can take care of myself. Everyone else can go to hell!"

And Kagayaki’s heart stopped from the look he was shot across the table. Stupid ass! Insult him and you’re gonna lose your head or something.

By the look in those darkened eyes, the possibility couldn’t be ignored. Kagayaki flinched and closed his eyes. He waited nervously; hoping his death would be quick and merciful.

All the old man did was set the cup down and wave to the front counter. "Makoto, this boy wants another glass. Put it on my bill."

The jaws of both bartender and drunk dropped to the floor. Mak recovered first and quickly poured more sake into a cup. He brought it over, hands shaking slightly. "You sure? This boy ain’t good for nothing." Kagayaki almost retorted but decided against fighting. Something… something about him…

"It’s all right," the aged man dismissed the matter and took the cup. "Thank you, Makoto-kun." Mak smiled lopsidedly and walked back to the bar, shaking his head at how the stranger spoke with such familiarity. "Here."

Kagayaki took the cup, but instead of downing it like he originally wanted to, he just looked at the man.

"What the… I mean, shit, he’s right! I’m worthless, good for nothing. Got no family, friends… and you just told me not to drink! So why the hell are you sitting here with me?"

A smile crossed the man’s well-worn face. "Because I’ve been like you once. Because you need a quick lesson in life. Because that’s the way I am, drawing in people to my world for just a moment before letting them go with new wisdom and pain. And staring at you right now, I think you simply need another man to talk with."

The inebriated man took a careful sip of the drink, even though minutes ago he’d been gulping it like water. "Who are you?" Kagayaki asked unsteadily, and he offered his name like a trade. "I’m Nei Kagayaki."

"I’ve gone by many names, though I think I would prefer it if you called me Ri Houjun."

I could tell he'd had a tough life

By the way he sat and stared

And me I'd come to push and shove

So I pulled up a chair

The duo talked for close to an hour, even though it was mostly Kagayaki doing the talking. He spoke of how his family threw him out for caring about a lower-class girl, and how she had left him when she found he had an older brother. His voice was full of bitterness, self-pity, and something bordering on depression. He ranted about the unfairness of life, the pain of love, and how the world kept fucking him over and he wanted to do the same back.

During the whole thing, Ri-sama never yelled at him, never berated him for the words. He simply asked questions, gave some answers, and made Kagayaki think a little bit about his life.

"And stop calling me Ri-sama. Call me Houjun-san if you must," he said sternly. "I’m not the emperor. Never have, thank Suzaku I never will be!"

"You’re from Konan?" Kagayaki wondered aloud.

"That obvious?"

"No one but people from Konan worship-"

"It was a joke, young man," he chuckled. "I still have a bit of a sense of humor. But yes, I am from Konan."

Kagayaki nodded slowly. The bar they were sitting in was on the border between Kutou and Konan, and specifics actually deemed the place in the country of Kutou. Luckily, it had been almost four decades since the War and it was much easier to pass from country to country. Kagayaki himself was from Konan, but for a multitude of reasons he crossed the border and decided that Kutou would be a good place to hide from the past.

"Houjun-san?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you here? What are you hiding from?"

A furrow crossed the elder’s face as he leaned forward into the candlelight. Kagayaki noticed that Houjun-san’s hair wasn’t as white as he originally thought. It was more like a silver-blue, the color of ice shining against a blue winter sky.

"What I am about to tell you never leaves this table," his voice was low as thunder. "We are sharing secrets between each other and I need to know that you understand that."

The younger man nodded furiously, hearing the hidden emotions but still too tipsy to really pinpoint them. Houjun took a breath and began.

"Growing up, I had a best friend. He and I did everything together- played, talked, and generally shared our lives. But we both knew a little girl that touched us in such a way that she eventually made our duo a trio. We were as close as you can ever imagine.

"When I turned eighteen, she agreed to become my bride. And I expect that you can understand, maybe better than most, the pain I felt when I found her kissing my best friend."

Kagayaki’s jaw dropped a second time. "Holy sh-"

"I’m not done yet," Houjun said curtly, shutting Kagayaki up. "So she broke our engagement and I challenged my best friend, now an enemy, to a duel. During that time, a bad rainstorm had broken the dam and swept away everyone I loved, from my family to her. As we fought, he slipped and fell to the river. I dropped my sword and grabbed his hand, and in that moment I knew I still cared for him, that he was still my best friend no matter what happened. But as fate would have it… a log sent downstream took out my eye, the pain causing me to loosen the grip I had on his hand. He, along with the rest of my village, was taken away in the torrent and died. And for the longest time, I felt as if his death was my fault, that I could have prevented it. And maybe I could have… but that’s the way destiny decreed my life to go."

He paused to let the information sink into Kagayaki’s half-sober head. The younger quickly downed the rest of his drink and looked at the man with glassy eyes.

"I’m so sorry, Houjun-san," he croaked. "I mean, what are you doing listening to me for? Doesn’t it hurt to talk about it?"

"We’re very alike, Kagayaki-kun," Houjun murmured faintly. "When it happened, I felt how you did. I hated myself, the world, and even people that I had no right being angry at… But I had the chance to set everything right, and I did. Now you have a chance to make your life better."

He picked up his sake cup and held it up. "A toast."

Kagayaki was puzzled but still picked up his drink. "A toast? To what?"

"A thanks to Suzaku. We’ve had our chances at life. There are those who’ve never had."

We talked of roads untraveled

We talked of love untrue

Of strings that come unraveled

We were kings and kindred fools

Just when I'd hit bottom

That old man raised his glass

He said, at least we've had our chances

There's those who've never had

"What do you mean? Like babies that die in childbirth?" Kagayaki asked, trying desperately to understand the deeper meanings.

"Yes, them too. But more than that," Houjun’s voice took on an almost lilting tone, as if singing or telling a story. The sadness was so evident that even the sot of a youth could sense it.

"Look out the window." There was a window right behind Houjun’s head and he indicated for the younger man to look outside.

Kagayaki did. He didn’t see anything different. The sky was velvet blue, decorated by a glittering of stars. Houses and buildings made for a peaceful background and, now that the alcohol was wearing thin, he could appreciate the soft scene. "Nice. I’ll bet it wasn’t like this 40 years ago."

"It wasn’t. Darkness was something to be feared and peace was an idea that could only be found by making war. But I think… I think it’s all the small losses that really hurt."

Kagayaki brought his eyes back inside the bar. "What do you mean?"

Houjun’s eyes were back to being dark brown, with almost no light reflected off his insightful orbs. "Did you know that the only reason Kutou fought Konan was so that the general of Kutou’s army could take it back and destroy the Emperor of Kutou? The general didn't want Konan at all, it was just a game."

"You’re shitting me!"

"Swear to Suzaku."

"Holy fuck!"

"Generally not two words that go together…" Houjun reprimanded the youth. "But yes, General Nakago was a very vengeful man. He wanted the Emperor to be unprotected so when he returned, Nakago could kill him and everyone associated with the Emperor. In short… it seems as if all the soldiers in Konan’s army died for no cause. All those lives… the small things."

"But… wouldn’t that mean the deceased Emperor Saihitei died for no reason?" Kagayaki grasped at the idea, pain coming to his voice. "Konan lost a great ruler for vengeance???"

"Saihitei was a proud man, and fought for his country like the other soldiers. But yes… boiled down he did die in vain." Kagayaki could see and hear the anguish and loss in Houjun-san’s words. "Even though I know he died for his own kind of revenge."

Kagayaki was staring into his empty cup, having lost hearing anything but his own heart pound. No… all my life… I thought we fought a good fight.

"Don’t misunderstand my words, boy," Houjun cut into his thoughts. "Konan fought bravely and I’m proud to have been there. But that’s only part of what I meant. I’m here right now, forty years after a war that should never have started, and at peace with the world. Outside, though you can’t see them, are the people living alone on the streets, the men and women that aren’t quite right. The people in Hokkan, in Sairo that have been hurt by tragedy, those here in Kutou still feeling the oppression at times… we are very lucky. Our ships have come in."

From the look on Kagayaki’s face, Houjun was compelled to clarify. "The saying that our ship has come in means that we can finally travel down the proverbial river of life, or make the final journey depending on your point of view. If your ship hasn’t, or maybe it will never come in, then it means your reason to live is gone. You are, in ways, lifeless and stranded."

"Then… you might wait forever, never knowing if your ship is coming in," Kagayaki’s face shone with the dawning realization. "Like people waiting for family to come home that never will. Like even now, after the war… someone’s still waiting in hopes that their loved ones come home.

"Ships that don’t come in…"

So here's to all the soldiers

Who have ever died in vain

The insane locked up in themselves

The homeless down on Main

To those who stand on empty shores

And spit against the wind

And those who wait forever

For ships that don't come in

He excused himself to go the bathroom, leaving Houjun-san sitting there drinking his still-warm sake. Opening the door he saw, with eternal gratitude, that no one was inside. Kagayaki had barely managed to make it there without releasing the tears that threatened to overflow.

Stupid, he berated himself. It’s all in the past. It’s all done with! Be a man!!

But he couldn’t help it and began washing his face with ice-cold water, pretending the drops of warm water were just a fluke of the pump. The pain, the losses… he felt everything with such clarity it nearly killed him. And he came to a good realization:

I don’t want to be drunk right now.

With his face still wet, Kagayaki opened the second door leading outside and promptly made himself violently ill. Minutes later, after retching and hacking, he believed his stomach and system to be clean of the vile drink and washed his face a second time. He drank the cool water, rinsing the taste from his mouth and refilling his body with a more beneficial liquid.

I can’t believe I thought sake tasted good. Shit, I was totally off!

He came back to the table and saw another body being dragged away from Houjun-san. A sudden sense of worry rose up and he tapped the man on the shoulder.

"Are you all right, Houjun-san?"

"Oh I’m fine, but I don’t think the other will be able to say the same," he remarked lightly. Fire and anger bloomed like a flower in Kagayaki’s chest, like a sense of protection for this old yet capable man. He felt connected, like a student to a teacher or even, dare he think it, a son to a father. To have someone try and hurt Houjun-san… it was unforgivable! But for now... "Take a seat. I don’t think we’re done with the conversation. Care for another drink?"

"No thanks," Kagayaki quickly took his seat and waited for Houjun-san to begin. He didn’t miss the smile on the elder man’s face, though.

"It’s only life’s illusions that bring us here, you know," this topic started. "This problem of yours, it’s really trivial in the scheme of things."

Kagayaki made a face and sparked a quick laugh from Houjun. "I know I may sound painfully blunt, but it’s the truth. The things that were seen forty years ago… now that’s worth drinking till you drop, but not petty things. You were ready to try and attack me mere hours ago, all for a few lousy coins to mend a scar that’s not even worth your time."

"I’m sorry, Ri-sama," Kagayaki said, honestly meaning it and bowing his head so their eyes wouldn’t meet. He felt so ashamed now, now that he understood what he was running from and that his "heartbreak" wasn’t even a "heart-bruise". Guilt was nearly overpowering him and he waited for a blow over the head.

Houjun merely reached over and ruffled the tuft of black hair rather affectionately. "Kid, I told you not to call me that." Kagayaki looked up with shock and hidden gratefulness etched on his features. "You know, I don’t even know how old you are."

"20."

"So let’s see… your parents might not have even remembered the War," Houjun thought in his head. "But in any case, back to my point. You’re sitting here, wallowing in self-pity. And pointless self-pity, mind you, instead of doing something productive."

"I'll stop it! I really will! And I swear, I’ll try and do something good with my life!" Kagayaki promised fervently. "I swear to Suzaku, I’ll go back home if you want me to!"

Houjun shook his head. "That’s your decision. But I will hold you accountable for that ‘do something good’ part. Deal?" He held out an outstretched hand.

"Deal."

And they shook hands.

He said it's only life's illusions

That bring us to this bar

To pick up these old crutches

And compare each other's scars

Cause the things were calling heartaches

Well they're hardly worth our time

We bitch about a dollar

When there's those without a dime

"I’m getting one last cup before heading out. You sure you don’t want one?" Houjun-san offered.

"I think I better not," Kagayaki said sheepishly. Houjun nodded and waved to the counter again. Makoto came over, carrying a steaming cup.

"Can I take this empty one from you?" the bartender held out his hand and took it when Kagayaki agreed.

"How much do I owe you?" Houjun asked.

"You had three drinks, right? Only 42 kane," Mak tallied in his head. Houjun pulled out four coins and said, "Keep the change."

Mak counted the kane before looking back to the stranger with a curious look. "You gave me-"

"Enough, I hope. But you better go, for I believe you have a customer waiting." Makoto glanced at him before turning to his bar. Kagayaki noticed his steps were considerably lighter than before and he wondered just how much Houjun-san had given him. "I should be done in maybe 30 minutes, if you’d care to stay."

"Of course, Houjun-san," Kagayaki said firmly. Then, a few moments later, he asked the question that had been plaguing him for the past few hours. "Houjun-san, why are you here? You said you were at peace, why not go back to Konan? Why stay here and drink?"

Houjun swirled his drink while thinking about the answer. "I suppose I felt that, since I had done so much for Konan and Suzaku had blessed me enough to let me live to see so many days, I should live in Kutou and take care of the people that really need help. I never really had a home in Konan after my village was destroyed, so I just traveled and ended up here. Besides, coming here gives me a sense of stability. "

"Oh," the youth nodded, then burst out. "I want to help you!"

"Come again?" Houjun-san raised his eyebrow.

"I want to stay with you, and help you with whatever it is you’re doing here," Kagayaki said quickly. "I’ve never had a good father or someone to look up to. Would you mind if I stayed with you, helped you? You said you wanted me to do something good with my life! Maybe you could help me be a good person."

"You already are a good person, just slightly misguided," Houjun-san told him, then sighed. "It’s been a while since I’ve taken on any disciples. I don’t know…"

"If you say no, that’s all right. I’ll just-"

"Boy, slow down," Houjun told him sternly. Kagayaki winced, but then relaxed when he saw the smile on the other’s face. "I think that’d be good for both of us. But I must warn you, if I teach and train you, you’ll probably live like a monk for a while."

The prospect of that idea wasn’t great, but the younger man still agreed. "Even that kind of learning should do me good."

Houjun’s eyes were gentle and golden as he made the last comment before downing the rest of his drink. "Life’s like gamble sometimes. Sometimes it seems like you’re out when you're winning, or like you’re in when you've lost. I think I’ve just been pulled back in, and you’ve still got an ace up your sleeve."

As he ordered one last round he said

I guess we can't complain

God made life a gamble

And we're still in the game

*

Two figures were sitting on a hill, looking up at the stars. One was white-haired; the other’s was black as midnight. Upon closer inspection, lifelines could be seen deeply etched in the elder’s face, while maturity had settled into his companion’s.

"Ri-sensei."

"What?"

"You said you lost your eye to a log. How come you have both of them?" Kagayaki wasn’t completely comfortable asking the question, but he knew Ri-sensei wouldn’t mind (as long as he got a question in return).

"See that constellation up there? That’s Tasuki, and the one right next to it is Mitsukake," Ri-sensei pointed out. Kagayaki, now with five year’s learning under his belt, knew when his sensei was purposely dodging a question. However, he was getting good at figuring out that his questions would usually be answered if he looked hard enough.

"Suzaku Shichiseishi," he said softly. "I heard they were incredible fighters."

"Most of them," Ri-sensei agreed. "But there were a few that chose not to."

Kagayaki searched his memory banks before the idea popped straight into his head. "Mitsukake was a healer."

"You are learning!"

"I hope to Suzaku I am!"

They chuckled and bantered for a time before Kagayaki came back to the question now answered. "Mitsukake healed you?"

"It’s a rather complex story, but he was given special Deity Water by Taiitsu-kun, who I had once studied under. It could heal anything. After an especially hard time, he handed me the water and said that when my heart was well, I could use it to fix my eye."

"I take it you did."

"I wasn’t going to. But just before a friend of mine passed on from an illness, he made me pour the water on my eyes. I was going to use it and heal him, but he would, to quote, "have none of that shit. Fix yerself, dammit, or I'll come 'n haunt'cha when I'm dead!" And so… I have both eyes now."

"That’s pretty amazing."

"Kagayaki-kun, I have something to tell you."

He spun his head so quickly he almost hurt himself. Ri-sensei never called him that! "Yes, what? What’s wrong?"

"Nothing specific. But I’m getting old and I’m thinking that soon I’ll be passing on from this world."

"You’re not old, you’re growing in wisdom!" Kagayaki fought.

Ri-sensei laughed; a good old-fashioned laugh that Kagayaki never really heard before. It warmed the younger man’s heart. "You do have a way with words, when you’re not swearing like a bandit."

"It’s a talent," he shrugged.

"But honestly… there are things I wish I had done but I never will. The time has passed and I will be called home soon."

"This is your home!"

"Back to my family, old friends, her… to people that have gone before me," Ri-sensei sighed, then slowly stood up. Kagayaki offered his shoulder as a brace and helped his teacher into the house.

"Kagayaki, when I die, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Please don’t…"

"To accept death is to never fear it," Ri-sensei sat on his bed. "I’m not afraid of dying. My life was good, was fulfilled as best as I could."

"You’re ship came in and really took you for a ride."

"You are a very special young man, you know that?" the mentor continued, looking into his student’s watery eyes. "Never doubt that. But after I die, there are a few things I want you to do. First, take my body to my old village and bury me there. There should be a map somewhere.

"Second, all the items behind the glass case are to be taken to the Emperor. However, I would like you to have everything else that I leave behind in this house, to do with what you please.

"Lastly… never forget me, and never forget who you are. Mourn for me, but do not rage against life. Join me when your time has truly come and I will be there to greet you."

"Ri-kun!"

Despite being in his mid-twenties, Kagayaki had learned that you never outgrow emotions. He hugged his teacher/companion/father with great love and was overjoyed to feel the hug being returned.

Leaving the room, Kagayaki wiped his eyes and shut the door, leaning on it. He’s been waiting for his ship to come in… I wonder how long…

And he knew that, deep in his heart, his teacher wouldn’t wake up in the morning.

So here's to all the soldiers

Who have ever died in vain

The insane locked up in themselves

The homeless down on Main

To those who stand on empty shores

And spit against the wind

And those who wait forever

For ships that don't come in

"I bring these items to Emperor Boushin," the man announced. Within minutes, he was in the Palace Court, kneeling before the emperor of Konan.

"Welcome, friend of Konan. What do you bring us?" the emperor asked, his brown eyes shining, his worn face alight with emotion. Kagayaki wondered if Saihitei’s eyes looked like that.

"My sensei has requested that after his death, I bring you these items."

In his arms, Kagayaki carried a tessan, a bottle, a scroll, some prayer beads, and a pair of bracelets on his wrists. Covering his body was a kesa, around his neck was a kasa, and strapped to his back was a golden staff.

Boushin bounded down the stairs of his throne with a spryness that belied his age. "By Suzaku’s wings… the artifacts of the Suzaku no Shichiseishi!"

"What?" a man about Kagayaki’s age came flying into the room, his robes whipping around his body. "What’s going on? I’m sorry I’m late, Heika."

Boushin smiled at Kagayaki. "My second son Saihitei is not the most timely of men." The Prince had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. "But this is amazing… we thought the artifacts had long since gone missing!"

"Ri-sensei had asked I bring them to you."

"Where is he?" Saihitei asked while tying his hair up. With a look from his father, his hand flew to his mouth in shock. "Oh no! The last one!"

The Emperor shook his head. "He outlived his brothers. He kept these to watch over them. May I take them to the Shrine?" he asked the traveler.

Kagayaki, a little taken aback by all the things going on, nodded mutely and handed the pile over to Boushin. "Uh… yes of course, Heika-sama. But I’m confused. Why did he have all this?"

Boushin’s eyes were soft and more than touch saddened. "Come, walk with me and Saihitei."

Within minutes, the three of them, flanked by guards and yes-men, made it to the Shrine of Suzaku. Two men opened the doors and Kagayaki’s eyes widened as he saw the profile of a beautiful golden bird, a sword resting at its feet. This is my god, the one I live for now…

"Can you name all the Suzaku Seishi?" Emperor Boushin questioned after they paid homage to the god of Konan. Kagayaki did so and Boushin kept going. "These are the weapons the Seishi used to defend and protect the Suzaku no Miko. They are gifts from Taiitsu-kun." He began setting the items down on the altar of which the sword was on. "The sword was used by Hotohori, also known as my father Saihitei."

Kagayaki’s eyebrows went up into his bangs but he had learned to keep his mouth shut and listen. Boushin took the bracelets and laid them next to each other. "These were used by Nuriko to improve his strength. This water, by Mitsukake for healing, and the scroll for Chiriko but used to seal Seiryuu. Those four died forty years ago, in the War." He set the items on either side of the bracelets, showing an utmost respect for every piece. Kagayaki was coming to appreciate and admire his teacher more and more. "There was no artifact for Tamahome, just word of his fighting skills. Tasuki used this tessen and Chichiri used the prayer beads, along with the staff on your back."

He quickly undid the staff and handed it to the Emperor, who wrapped the beads around the top. Boushin set it behind everything else, tall enough to be seen easily. The tessen was opened and set a level higher behind the sword. As soon as he finished, the altar glowed a merry red and the phoenix statue went almost alight with life.

"They are home," Saihitei said, his voice filled with awe. "Resting here for all to know their works." Kagayaki looked at him and all of a sudden, he didn’t think Saihitei was quite as scatter-brained as he appeared.

"You asked as to why your sensei had these items," Boushin stood by the sword, gently touching the handle. "Who was he?"

"Ri Houjun. He was a monk, once upon a time, but later became a teacher and eventually settled down near the border of Konan and Kutou."

"Ah, so he only told you half the story," the Emperor smiled, then turned to the doors. "Come with me, I have something you may want to see."

This time, only the three of them went inside the emperor’s quarters. Emperor Boushin pointed to a picture hanging on the mirror, only it wasn’t painted. It was much smaller but far more detailed. It was amazing.

"What is that?" Kagayaki asked, utterly transfixed by the accuracy. The man in the front row looked exactly like Boushin and even Sai- "That’s the Emperor!"

"My father Hotohori," Boushin smiled kindly. "That’s the only photo, as Suzaku no Miko called it, taken of all eight. That’s Nuriko, Mitsukake, Tasuki, and Chichiri all the way on the right. Underneath Nuriko is Tamahome, then Miaka the Suzaku no Miko, Hotohori, and finally Chiriko. Now… take a good look at Chichiri."

Kagayaki studied the picture and after a moment he recognized the kesa as the one he was currently wearing. "That looks familiar, but nothing else. Though Ri-sensei’s hair sometimes stuck up like that-" And the thought hit him over the head like a rock.

Oh my GOD!!! Ri-sensei was Chichiri!

*

"Come back and visit, all right?" Saihitei smiled at Kagayaki. "It gets boring around here and company’s always nice to have."

Kagayaki bowed and grinned back. "I’d like that, Saihitei-sama." The two men had grown a quick yet strong friendship over the days and he planned to be back as often as he could.

But he walked home, the idea that his teacher and mentor was the great magician Chichiri, of whom only stories could remember, stuck in his head. For a time, he felt something between disappointment and betrayal.

Why didn’t he tell me? I was the last of his family… why?

Days later he returned home, his question unanswered in any acceptable fashion. However, lying on the dining table, he found a mask and a piece of paper.

Who left me this?

The mask was hard, the face painted in a rather foxlike expression. He turned it over, shrugged, and began to read the paper.

‘Kagayaki, I know you’re angry with me, cursing the reason I kept you from that secret. However, it was not that I did not trust you, but that I did not want you to treat me differently. Ri-sensei was enough for me, for my time of being Chichiri-sama had long since gone. You were a good man and (from time to time) like a good son. The mask you see is the one I wore while my eye was scarred. I tried to hide from myself, using the excuse that no one wanted to see me in such a flawed condition. Still, I learned better from my Seishi brothers and stopped wearing the mask, shortly before Tasuki made me use the Deity Water. I leave it to you, to remember to always be yourself, to have faith and pride in who you are. Never wear a mask and do not be the one in the saying:

And those who wait forever

For ships that don't come in

May your ship run on a strong current, and may you never wait for it to come.

–Ri Houjun, Suzaku no Shichiseishi Chichiri

"Nice touch, Chichiri," Tasuki leaned over his shoulder, looking into the pool and reading the letter aloud.

"Would you guys split? I’m trying to bond for one last time with him!" Chichiri’s voice was slightly strained with irritation.

"Come on, Tasuki! He’s not going anywhere!" Nuriko shouted from his seat next to Chiriko. "Leave him alone for a minute."

Tasuki grumbled something unintelligible (and unrepeatable) but still walked away, leaving Chichiri free to relax and watch the scene.

Kagayaki, his face moist with tears, walked outside. In the midst of the summer night, he fell to his knees and prayed to Suzaku. Chichiri could hear ‘thank you’ repeated over and over and a lot of other emotional words. When he was finished, Kagayaki stood up and, taking one last look at the place he called home, he shut the door and began a journey he hoped would follow in his sensei’s footsteps.

Chichiri was proud of the young man.

Touching the pool, the ripples destroyed the picture and he stood up. He looked out at everyone in front of him and smiled. They were all wearing their younger forms, himself included. Not that the four earlier deceased could really age, but neither Tamahome nor Tasuki were young when they died and they looked to be no more than 20. Chiriko was watching the brawling boys, amused and ecstatic to have them here. Hotohori and Mitsukake were discussing matters of Konan, managing to duck in time as both Tasuki and Tamahome went flying over their heads via Nuriko’s distinct unhappiness at being accidentally hit by a flying kick.

All in all… Chichiri knew that despite the student he left behind, he was glad to be here.

"Houjun?" a hand touched his arm.

Chichiri turned and, with a grin, he saw Hikou and Kouran standing next to him. No longer standing on empty shores, I’m home again.

"I’m ready."

"About damn time!" Tasuki screamed at him as he and Nuriko raced past them to the Gates of Suzaku.

And the trio, laughing and locking arms, walked together to join the rest of the joyous Seishi and their families in the brightness of Suzaku’s light.

 

 

 

OK… end notes… well, as far as I know, Kouran is the name of the girl Chichiri was engaged to. I really wanted to do a weird twist kind-of-thing with Kagayaki being some reborn Seishi, but it didn’t quite pan out. Other than that, I’d like to know what everyone thought of it. Thanks!

 

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