Disclaimer:  How do I not own thee?  Let me count the ways.

Warning:  Lotsa swearing.

Author's Note:  Okay, I wrote this a few months ago, while Mouse-chan was off at camp, and never got around to posting it because I thought the subject matter was...well...a wee bit less serious than what I usually post. ^_~.  However, as I've recently found it in my files, and Kei-chan has been complaining that I never post anything but masochism and death lately, voila!!  So, yes.  I do hope you enjoy it, but if you don't...well, it's all Kei-chan's fault.  And Mouse-chan's.  Of course. ^_~.

Summary:  After insulting the wrong woman in a bar, Tasuki is given a lesson on woman's lot that he's not likely to forget.  PG-13 for language.

E x p e c t i n g

by Ryuen

* * *

"Please, Tasuki.  Calm down no da."

Swathed in velvety red blankets that left nothing but the top of his head visible, Tasuki gave a convulsive shake.  "MmnnmmnnnmmnnnnmnnnMMNNN!!"

The blue-haired seishi heaved a quick sigh, then stepped forward and--with one quick motion, like pulling a tablecloth out from beneath a pile of dishes--ripped the blankets from the bed.  For a moment, the flame-haired bandit was so stunned at the sudden burst of air that he just sat there, clad only in a pair of shorts and the toe socks Nuriko had gotten him for his birthday, and stared.  Then, after the initial shock had worn off, he gave an enraged howl and dove for the blankets still dangling from Chichiri's fingers; the older man needed only to twitch his wrist slightly to pull them out of the bandit's reach (particularly since Tasuki refused to climb out of the bed to get them), and after a moment of struggle, Tasuki settled back on the bed with a pout.

"You gonna give back the fuckin' blankets, 'Chiri?" he demanded, giving the older man a dark glare.  "C'mon, fuckin' give 'em back."

Chichiri stood silently, studying the seventeen-year-old so closely that a flush crept into Tasuki's cheeks; after a moment, the young bandit drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, contenting himself by narrowing his eyes even further into the glare at Chichiri.

"Look," the younger man growled, "I don't know what kinda game you're playin', but gimme back the fuckin' blankets right now, wouldja?"  His hand darted to the nightstand behind him, and when it returned, it was with a glisten of metal.  "I'm not fuckin' kidding, Chichiri.  Gimme the fuckin' blankets or...or...I'll fuckin' burn ya!"

The monk raised an eyebrow.  "With Miaka's stapler no da?"

"Miaka's...?"  The bandit glanced down at the object in his fingers, and--upon discovering that it was, indeed, the strange metal contraption that Miaka had brought with her from her world--scowled.  In desperation, he flipped down the bottom of the thing and squeezed against the top as Miaka had showed him, sending a small torrent of metal missiles soaring towards Chichiri.  Granted, none of them actually reached the monk, but Tasuki was fairly sure that if they had, they'd have stung.

At last, Chichiri seemed to have had enough.  "Tasuki," he said, using a tone of extreme patience, "I won't give you back the blankets no da.  You've been hiding under them ever since..."  He quirked an eyebrow.  "Well, ever since that happened.  It won't go away just from you refusing to admit that it's there no da."

"It's not there," Tasuki insisted.  Scowling again, he tossed the empty stapler onto the floor and crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest.  "It was a fuckin' dream, okay?"

Chichiri sighed.  "Tasuki, it wasn't a dream.  Look at yourself no da!"

The bandit, however, merely raised his chin and squeezed his eyes shut.  "I did fuckin' look.  There's nothin' there!"

Chichiri stood there in silence for a few seconds, hands clasped in front of him and unmasked features twisting in concern.  Finally, he shrugged, turned away from the bed, and began to walk towards the bed chamber door.  "Fine no da," he said, tossing the words casually over one shoulder.  "I thought I might be able to get rid of it for you, but if you say that it isn't there, then I won't, no da."

There was a violent rustle behind him.  "You can fuckin' get rid of it?!"

As he halted, just a few steps away from the door, a slight, pleased smile touched the monk's lips.  When he turned around, however, his good eye was slightly widened in surprise, and his mouth was twisting downwards, as if in confusion.  "Demo, Tasuki," he said, "I thought there was nothing there no da."

"Okay, okay," Tasuki muttered.  "Don't fuckin' play dumb with me.  It's there.  I can fuckin' see it.  But..."  His voice went suddenly whiny.  "But, shit, 'Chiri, get rid of it!  Please!  I can't fuckin' take it anymore!  I mean, what the hell am I gonna do if it...if I...ahhhhh, fuck, get rid of it!!"

The monk opened his mouth to reply...and closed it as there came a sudden rapping at the door.  The knocks were fairly quiet, as if whoever made them were rapping gently with his/her knuckles, but the entire door shook with their impact.  Tasuki's eyes went wide.  "'Chiri, gimme the fuckin' blankets!" he hissed.  "Gimme the fuckin' blankets!!!"

With only a moment's hesitation, the monk began to make his way towards the pile of red velvet, lying there on the floor by the wall, but just as he reached them, the door swung open, and Nuriko bounded in.  Tasuki groaned and tried to rip the sheets off the mattress to cover himself, but by then, it was already too late.

The eighteen-year-old seishi, his long violet hair plaited into a braid that hung over one shoulder, came to an abrupt halt just inside the door, all pleasant greetings dying on his tongue at the sight of the scantily-clad bandit.  He blinked a few times, staring at Tasuki with wide, shocked eyes, and then--much to the seventeen-year-old's annoyance--burst out laughing.

"This is why you've been hiding out in your room all week?  Because you're...you're...ahahahahaha!!"  Nuriko began to laugh again, the tears already welling in his eyes; by the time he was finished, he was sitting crosslegged on the floor, wiping at his wet cheeks with the back of a hand, and Tasuki's face was scarlet with rage.

"Okay," the bandit growled, "that's fuckin' enough.  ENOUGH!  I didn't fuckin' ask for this, ya know."

Chichiri sighed.  "Close the door please, Nuriko no da."

Still giggling softly, Nuriko picked himself up off the floor and walked over to the door; his gentle tap sent the wood slamming into the frame with enough force to shake the entire building.  As such, Chichiri elected to wait until the walls had finished trembling before speaking.

"Eheh."  Nuriko gave a sheepish smile.  "Gomen neee..."

"Daijobu no da, Nuriko.  Sit down.  This...might take awhile to explain no da."

* * *

"Okay," began Tasuki, now safe again beneath the blankets, "now it started with this fuckin' woman."

Sitting crosslegged at the foot of the bed, Nuriko raised his eyebrows.  "Ne, isn't that how something like that usually starts?"

Tasuki went crimson.  "Not...like...that, ya fuckin' hentai!"  After panting angrily for a few moments, the bandit calmed down and began again.  "Like I was sayin'," he growled, "it started with this f--  This woman.  It started with this woman.  Met her in a fuckin' tavern.  Anyway, so she started buggin' me about having some kinda drinkin' contest or somethin', an' I told her to leave me the fuck alone, 'cause, ya know, iunlike women."

Nuriko snickered.

"Not...fuckin'...like...that!"

"Anyway no da," Chichiri cut in, sounding a little weary, "from what Tasuki told me before no da, the two of them started to argue, and--"

"I can fuckin' tell it, 'Chiri.  Anyway, she started arguin' with me, and tellin' me what worthless jerks all guys were, so o'course I had to tell 'er that women were no fuckin' prizes, either, and...well, when I was done, she was like, 'Woman's lot in life is much more difficult than man's.  You would do well to learn that.'  An' I was like, 'What the fuck?  Ya sound like a fuckin' scholar all of a sudden, when just a minute ago, you were cussin' and shoutin' like a fuckin' bandit or somethin'!'  An' then she..."  He flushed, glancing down at the bulge in his stomach.  "An' then she fuckin' put 'er hands...there...and--"

Nuriko gave a little yelp. "There?!"

"NOOO!!"  He pointed to his stomach.  "There, ya fuckin' moron.  It was only fer a second, but...it felt like she put somethin' in me or somethin'.  But like I said, it was only a second, and I just thought it was an upset stomach or somethin' from all the sake, but..."  He gave a miserable sigh.  "But, fuckin' look at it.  I'm...I'm..."

There was a long pause.  It was Chichiri, at last, who broke the silence.

"Pregnant no da."

Tasuki groaned.  "Do ya hafta fuckin' say it like that?  Can'tcha just say that I'm...uh..."

"Expecting?" Nuriko offered helpfully.

Tasuki groaned again. 

"Well, whatever the case," Chichiri interjected, "something has to be done about this no da.  The...baby seems to be growing at an accelerated rate, and if we don't stop it no da--"  He gave Tasuki an apologetic wince.  "--Tasuki will go into labor sometime over the next three days."

"THREE DAYS!?"

Chichiri nodded.  "I'm afraid so, Tasuki no da.  And if I can't find a way to reverse the spell before then...we'll need to get Mitsukake no da."

"Aw, fuckin' why?"

"Because no da, Mitsukake is the only one who knows how to deliver a child safely.  Without him no da...anything could happen."

"Aww, 'Chiri, you gotta fuckin' get rid of it!  I-I can't fuckin' take this anymore!" 

"I'll try, Tasuki no da, demo--"

"Ne, wait just a minute."

The two looked up at the sound of Nuriko's voice, and found the violet-haired seishi sitting there at the edge of the bed, arms folded over his chest and a frown on his face.  "You can't get rid of this, Tasuki."

The bandit stared, unblinking, for a long moment before he could speak.  "I...what?"

Nuriko shook his head.  "You can't get rid of this.  It's...it's a child, Tasuki.  A baby, inside of you.  It's alive!  You can't just...just get rid of it.  It'd be like killing a baby!"

"N...No, it fuckin' wouldn't.  It's not a baby yet, Nuriko, it's just a...   Look, it's not right! I'm a fuckin' guy!  I'm not supposed to have a fuckin' baby inside o' me!"

The eighteen-year-old's face was hard.  "Supposed to or not, it's there.  I won't let you kill it, Tasuki."  He drew a deep breath, pushing up the sleeves of his green tunic to bear two deceptively-slim biceps.  "Or you, Chichiri.  No one is hurting this baby."

Tasuki shook his head in disbelief.  "You're...you're fuckin' insane."  He was clutching the blankets so tightly that his fingernails were carving dents into the fabric, and he looked as if he was trying to decide whether or not to grab for the stapler again.  "You're just...fuckin'...insane.  Iuncare what you say, I'm not having a goddamn baby!  'Chiri, back me up, here, wouldja?"

There was a long silence.

"Ch...Chiri?"

"Nuriko has a good point no da."

Tasuki groaned and flopped down onto his back on the mattress, flinging a hand over his eyes.  "Aww, no.  Fuckin' nooooo..."

"Look on the bright side no da!  You'll be the first man in the world to be an unwed father."

"Ahhhhggghhhh!!  I need a fuckin' drink."

Nuriko was on his feet in a second.  "Uh-uh-uh--no drinking."

Tasuki, who had been doing his best to smother himself with a nearby pillow, sat up abruptly; his eyes were wide, his fiery hair staticky and wild.  "Wh...WHAAAAAAT?!"

"Alcohol," Nuriko said firmly, "can hurt the baby.  Don't forget, I've spent the last few years as a girl--I know these things.  So no drinking."

The seventeen-year-old's voice was little more than a squeak.  "No dr...no...no dr..." 

Nuriko nodded.  "Hai.  No drinking.  And you'll have to stop sparring with Tama-chan in the afternoons, too--not that you've been doing that lately, anyway, since you've been hiding in your room.  But, no sparring.  No fighting at all, in fact.  There's too much of a chance that you might hurt the baby."

Tasuki writhed on the bed as if in the midst of a terrible nightmare; beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, trickling down into his eyes.  "No...no drinking...no fighting...  AHHHHHHHH, I hate that fuckin' woman for doin' this to me!!"

Chichiri rose from his chair and crossed to the bed; a moment later, he'd lowered himself onto the side of the mattress and placed a comforting hand on Tasuki's shoulder.  "Daijobu no da, Tasuki.  It'll be over in a few days for you, at least.  Women are pregnant for months before giving birth no da."

"Small fuckin' comfort," Tasuki grumbled.  "Three days.  Three fuckin' days like this, an' then..."  He swallowed hard.  "It doesn't...it doesn't fuckin' hurt, does it, Nuriko?  I-I mean, it just comes right out, doesn't it?"

Nuriko gave a weak smile.  "Ahhh...not exactly.  Ne, but don't worry.  Mitsukake will be here, and he'll, ah...well, maybe he'll be able to speed things up a little."

The bandit's eyes narrowed.  "Why?  How long does it fuckin' take to have a baby?"

"Ne," exclaimed Nuriko, starting to move towards the door, "you need to keep yourself hydrated!  I'll go get you something to drink!"

"Nurikooo," Tasuki growled.  "How fuckin' long does it take?  C'mon.  An hour?  Two?  Better not be any fuckin' longer than that, or..."  The words died on his tongue as Nuriko, just a few paces from the door, turned and gave him a toothy, wincing smile.

"Well, ah, it's different for everyone.  And, ne, since things are going so fast, it might not take very long at all for you!"

"How...fuckin'...long?"

Nuriko sighed.  "It is different for everyone, Tasuki, but...well, my mother was in labor with me for, ah...oh, about thirty hours."

The bandit stared at him blankly.  Then, after a long moment, he started to laugh, a flood of low, scary chuckles that seemed to come from the bottom of his bulging stomach.  "That's...that's fuckin' ridiculous.  Thirty hours?  That's...that's more than a day.  No way it could take that long to push out a little fuckin' baby."

"Ne, like I said, it's different for everyone.  It probably won't take that long at all for you."

Tasuki gave a shaky little laugh.  "D-Damn right, it won't.  No fuckin' way."

"Eheh...ah...neeee, why don't I go get you something to drink?"  Pausing only to tug open the door, Nuriko hurried out, long violet braid flapping out behind him. 

Tasuki stared at the door for a long time after it closed, eyes wide and unblinking, before turning slowly towards Chichiri.  The monk still sat on the edge of the bed, unmasked and looking concerned; his fingers tangled absently at the dark blue fabric of his kesa, and if Tasuki hadn't known better, he would've thought that the man seemed...nervous.

Shaking his head slowly, the bandit gave a sigh and leaned back against the headboard.  "I'm not gettin' outta this one, am I, 'Chiri?"

Chichiri's voice was soft.  "I don't think so, no da."

"Fuck."

* * *

AN:  Let me just say that it was extremely difficult to describe certain things in this chapter...tastefully. ^_^;;;  Lalalaaaaaa... ^^;;;

Chapter II:  Too Many Insomniacs

~*~

Sighing deeply, Tasuki dragged himself from the bed--for the fifth time in the last three hours--and began the arduous trek to the bath room.  The thought of hauling out the chamber pot again was bad enough--the thing was decorated with dainty little flowers, for one thing, and also had developed a smell that he didn't exactly find pleasant--but the thought of calling the chamber maid again and asking that she--again­--drag the damn thing to wherever it was that she dragged it and empty it...well, that was just too much.  It was bad enough, he thought darkly, that he had to be...  He glanced down at himself with a scowl, refusing to speak the words, even mentally.  ...but, he also had to make a nuisance of himself by dragging that girl out of bed again and again and again just to empty his...

Well, no more!  Giving himself a firm nod, the fiery-haired bandit worked his way across the room, heading for the door of the bath.  One hand went to the base of his spine, as that for some reason seemed to ease the imbalance and the discomfort, while the other, he used to grip onto the bed post, then the nightstand, then the wall, then, finally, the door knob.  The chamber pot was right where the maid had left it, sitting there at the edge of the bathing basin with crushed rose petals scattered all around it--like that fuckin' helps, he thought irritably.  Makes it a hell of a lot worse, if ya ask me...

Grumbling, the seishi got his foot beside the pot and gave it a fairly-rough nudge; the thing skidded across the floor, making a terrible screeching sound as it sped over the tile, and then--just centimeters before it would've smashed into the wall--it slowed to a stop, rocking once before coming to a complete halt. 

Tasuki made his way over to the wall gingerly, moving as quickly as his damnably-swollen stomach would allow, and--as he'd learned the hard way over the last few tries--pressed his back to the wall, gritted his teeth, and carefully lowered himself to where he could reach the chamber pot.  Once he had lowered himself enough (he had tried it standing up the first time, but the ensuing mess had discouraged him from trying that again), he squirmed his way out of his trousers, gritted his teeth together, and let loose.

He very purposely did not glance downward as the seconds ticked onwards, fearful--particularly after some of Nuriko's wonderings as to just how this baby was going to come out--of what he might see.  Despite his worries, however, he was very sure that he wasn't...missing anything.  That was obvious.  But, what if something had, unbeknownst to him, been added?  What if the reason why his aim was suddenly a little off was because something had...changed?  It was, very definitely, not something he wanted to think about.

Small beads of sweat, formed mostly from the exertion of keeping himself supported in such an awkward position, broke out on his forehead; by the time he had finished, his knees were shaking, and he felt, if possible, even more exhausted than he had already. 

Well, why the fuck shouldn't I be tired?  It's gotta be fuckin' after midnight, and am I asleep?  Nooooooo.  I'm in the fuckin' bath room, gettin' to know the goddamn chamber pot a little better.  Damn it, I hate this!!

The pressure in his bladder, at least, had abated somewhat--he cheered himself by thinking that maybe, just maybe, this would be the last time, that maybe he had emptied all that was inside of him, and now there would be nothing else to give. 

Not fuckin' likely, though.

Sighing deeply, Tasuki tensed his legs and--after nearly toppling to the side and going crashing to the floor--finally managed to hoist himself back into a standing position.  He stood there for a few moments, gasping for breath and shaking, and then he turned and started to make his way into the outer room.  There was a long, braided rope hanging from the ceiling that, according to his understanding, was connected to a small bell in the chamber maid's quarters.  When he pulled the rope, the bell rang, and that maid--no doubt not terribly pleased at being disturbed--would leap from her bed, dress, and hurry over as quickly as she could.

His hands were actually on the rope, his fingers just tensing around it, when he decided against calling her.  She was little more than a girl, really, probably around Chiriko's age or so, and she was the only one of those who had entered his quarters over the last few days who, upon seeing his condition, hadn't burst into laughter, shrieked, or asked a hundredy prying questions.  The girl--her name was Naiya, he remembered dimly--had simply curtseyed, smiled, and then done as he'd bid.  She'd had nothing but kind words for him while in his presence, and that alone certainly deserved giving the kid a break...even if she was a girl, and therefore somehow partly responsible for his current plight.

So, teeth gritting slightly at the thought of all the movement ahead of him, Tasuki made his way back over to the chamber pot, slid down the wall, and then very, very, very carefully, straightened up again.  It was a difficult thing, getting the bath door open while he held the thing, but he managed, and was halfway to the outer door before realizing that he was naked from the waist up.  He wouldn't have cared on any other night, but if he went out there like this, the truth of things would be just slightly obvious.  If he wanted to avoid that, however, that meant he had only one choice.

No.  No, I fuckin' won't.  I fuckin' WON'T!

But, what other option did he have?  He sure as hell couldn't leave the chamber pot where it was, full and already starting to smell--what if he had to go again before the end of the night?  And how much would Naiya appreciate it, if she were to wake up and have to empty it after so many hours had passed?

He let out a string of colorful curse words, and it made him feel a little better.  It did not, however, change the fact that--if he wanted to brave the night long enough to empty this thing--he was going to have to do it clothed in something.  And, no matter how deeply he wanted to wear one of his own shirts, he'd already learned that none of them even came close to fitting anymore.

"Fuckin' thanks, Nuriko," he growled as--after setting the chamber pot down on the bureau--he made his way to the wardrobe.  "Fuckin' thanks a lot.  Could'a picked one a little fuckin' less girly, couldn'tcha?!"

It was blue.  It was lacy.  It was one of Nuriko's old nightgowns, and--until this baby had been pulled out of him and this torturous hell was over--it was the only thing in his room that would fit.

But he didn't.  Have to.  Like it.

~*~

He would've liked to slip out of his room, tiptoe down the nearby stairs, then rid himself of his burden--the palace lawn would suck it up, wouldn't it??--and be on his way.  When he stepped out into the night air, however, he realized fairly quickly that this would not be possible.  The night was very quiet, no sound at all but the far-off thudding of guard boots on wood and the buzzing of insects; the walkway was empty in both directions, the curved roof blocking out most of the moonlit sky, the slim banister glittering with drops of dew.  It was all very peaceful, and the night breeze carried the mingled scents of flowers and river salt...but the stairs.  Damn it, the stairs...

Sighing, Tasuki let his shoulders slump, maintaining a careful grip on the chamber pot as he did so.  The stairs were soaked with rain, the smooth wood catching flecks of moonlight in the drops, and unless he missed his guess, the moment he set his foot down on those steps, his legs would fly out from under him and hurl him down towards the ground.  He received a brief and humiliating glimpse of himself, lying in a pained heap at the foot of the stairs, covered in the contents of his chamber pot and forced to wait, patiently, until someone happened to discover him, and that was enough.  He took a step back, and turned miserably to the empty walkway at his left.

The part of his mind that was still in the mood to be rational informed him that there was a good chance he would not slip if he tried to use these steps, that probably, although the stairs were slippery, he would easily walk down them, dump the chamber pot, and then return to his bed...but, that brief vision of himself, lying bruised and urine-soaked and pregnant on the grass, waiting for someone to find him... 

Teeth clenching, the bandit shook his head and started to move down the walkway.  There was, he knew, a stairway near Nuriko's room that was covered by an awning, and thus would most likely be dry.  And although it would take a great deal longer than he'd planned to get there, once he was there, he would have access to both the forest and the pond, either of which would make a wonderful new home for his foul-smelling burden.  He could only hope that no one else in the palace was afflicted with insomnia tonight, and if they were, that they were dealing with it indoors and far away from him.

~*~

He'd always been a light sleeper.  Even before the inhabitants of the palace had learned of his gender treacheries, thus making it necessary to wake up at the slightest turn of the door knob, Nuriko had possessed the uncanny ability to be deep within a dream, hear the tap of a pin dropping several countries away, and wake up immediately.  (Granted, he didn't always let on that he was asleep, but that had backfired before--he wasn't likely to forget the pain of Miaka's flashlight shining in his eyes for quite some time.)  Thus, when there came the sound of footsteps and a low, growling baritone from the walkway outside, he was awake within seconds.

His first jarred, breathless thought was that it was another of those damned curious maids, come to try to "make sure" that the rumors she'd heard were, indeed, true.  ...then again, although he'd certainly heard those girls curse--particularly when they realized that, not only was he awake and onto them, but there would be no gender-determination tonight--the voice outside was just a bit low to be one of them. 

Who, then?

Frowning, Nuriko swept back the covers and planted his bare feet on the floor.  Ever since the last curious maid had come dangerously close to examining the proof of his true gender, he'd taken to wearing more concealing clothing to bed--no more skimpy robe, that was for sure.  Now, instead, he wore a pair of pajamas that Miaka had lent him, the pants blue and a little baggy, the top a long-sleeved button-down with a collar.  At the moment, only about half of the buttons were fastened, leaving a narrow portion of his upper chest exposed, but his thoughts were so focused on whoever might be waiting outside that he didn't even think to finish buttoning them.  Instead, he rose to his feet and--sweeping his long violet hair back over his shoulders--tiptoed to the door. 

Standing there, motionless, with his ear pressed to the wood, he could make out the growling voice a bit more clearly--as well as the words it was forming.  Despite himself, he blushed.

"Mou, Tasuki-chan," he breathed, shaking his head.  "I hope that poor baby doesn't end up talking like you."

He considered going back to bed, trying to slip back into the pleasant Hotohori-sama dream that he'd been floating through before waking, but eventually decided against it.  Tasuki, after all, was in a very difficult position at the moment, and one which it was very likely he wasn't exactly accustomed to.  What would happen if he were to trip or fall while doing whatever it was he was doing?  Or what if--perish the thought--he were to go into labor out here in the dark of the night, no one around to help him or get Mitsukake?  No, he decided firmly, it was his job--his duty as a friend--to follow Tasuki and find out what he was up to. 

Once the grumbling had faded out, he waited for a few moments, then slid the door gently open, stepped out into the night--

"OOF!"

--and collided with something warm and solid.

Head spinning, Nuriko suddenly found himself sprawled on his back on the ground, staring up at a tall, featureless figure.  For a moment, he just lay there, stunned and uncertain, but just when he was about to crawl back to his feet, there came a soft--and familiar--sound of surprise from above him, followed by the extension of a hand.  After only a moment of hesitation, he gripped the hand and let himself be pulled to his feet, and it was only then--with the flickers of moonlight swimming around them, making the very moment seem hazy and dreamlike--that he could make out the flawless features of the young emperor.

"H...Hotohori-sama!" he whispered.  "W-What're you doing out here?"

"I was having difficulty sleeping," the beautiful emperor murmured, "and thought I'd take a walk.  I saw Tasuki--"  He raised a hand, gesturing to the corner around which the younger man had already vanished.  "--and he seemed...strange, and so I...I thought I'd follow him, to see if anything was wrong."  The regal young man stood there for a moment, gazing thoughtfully down the walkway, and then turned back to the smaller seishi with a frown.  "Has Tasuki...gained some weight lately, Nuriko?"

Despite himself, Nuriko giggled.  "Ah...hai.  A little."

"And--"  Hotohori's eyebrows furrowed.  "Was he wearing...a nightgown?"

~*~

"Fuckin' don't believe this," Tasuki was grumbling, holding the chamber pot in his left hand while gripping the banister in his right.  "Fuckin'...don't...fuckin'...believe...this...goddamn...fuckin'...!"

Finally, after what felt like a very, very long time, the bandit found his feet once more on solid earth, and heaved a sigh of relief.  Despite the awning, there had been a layer of moisture on the stairs, and his very first step actually had almost sent him tumbling.  If it hadn't been for the banister and an amazing feat of balance on his part, he was fairly sure that he'd be lying on the ground right now. 

"Let's get this fuckin' over with," he grumbled.  The edge of the forest--through which, he knew, one could eventually reach a small pond--loomed just beside him; he started towards it as rapidly as his bloated body would allow. 

...he had made it to the edge and was just glancing around, looking for a place to dump the chamber pot, when he heard a rustling behind him.  Eyes going wide, Tasuki froze where he stood, the pot held out in front of his chest, and--very slowly, as if trying to slip past a dangerous predator unnoticed--turned around.

"T...Tama?"

~*~