The Fox and the Phoenix

Instead of their anticipated destination, however, a completely unfamiliar sight greeted them. "What the...?" Kurama muttered, freezing in surprise. Wary of unusual occurrences, he scanned their surroundings, noting that his companion had drawn his blade.

They had been deposited in a large structure of Chinese design--a temple, if he wasn't mistaken, and he had a lot of experience in such matters. For all its splendor, the temple appeared vacant, at least temporarily. He shrugged as several minutes passed and nothing arrived to menace them. "Koenma should have those gates checked more often," he commented.

Hiei scowled, obviously not content with the situation and probably feeling trapped, since the malfunctioning gate had vanished behind them, leaving them to find another way back to their own territory. The little youkai began scouting the area, no doubt seeking an exit. Kurama started to prowl as well, but he was more interested in discovering what this temple had to offer. He wouldn't be averse to taking a few souvenirs with him.

His eyes lit up when he stumbled across the statue. It seemed to be the centerpiece of the temple, and for good reason. Raised on an ornate pedestal, the sculpture itself was over two meters of what would likely turn out to be solid gold. It depicted an elaborate bird, its long feathers etched in stunning detail. Closer inspection showed perfectly cut rubies inset as its eyes.

"Well, well," he murmured, running his fingers over it covetously. There was no way he could carry the whole thing, unfortunately, but it would be no trouble at all to remove the eyes. He also figured that if the devotees had something this magnificent in the temple's main hall, there was a good chance he'd encounter more portable treasures farther inside.

He proceeded deeper into the temple, on the alert in case he should run across any attendants, but there were none to be seen. The sound of running water made his ears perk up, and he followed it out the back to a large, clear pool with a waterfall at one end. A roof arched over most of it, held up by thick stone pillars, protecting it from the rain falling from the overcast sky. He gazed at it longingly, thinking of how his muscles would benefit from a good soak after his recent exertion.

Why not? The temple seemed empty, and it wasn't as though he would be defenseless if anyone made an appearance. Mind made up, he slipped out of his tunic and into the soothing water. He found the temperature adjusted to the perfect level of comfort. Small rocks and larger boulders, all artfully positioned, provided him with a variety of environments in which to sport. The entire place had been focused toward maximizing relaxation.

He speculated absently upon what kind of god or spirit required such a temple, and who was supposed to make use of the facilities. The priests, perhaps? He hadn't seen any, but they could very well be occupied elsewhere.

A flickering shadow by the side of the pool resolved itself into Hiei, his sword sheathed once again. He waited while Kurama waded to him across the shallow end and leaned on the edge. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"Enjoying myself," the youko replied promptly. "Why don't you join me?" he teased.

Hiei gave that suggestion the dignity it deserved by ignoring it completely. "Get out of there. Something is happening outside. You should see it."

Kurama sighed. Just when he was beginning to feel *himself* again. "Can't it wait a while? It's been a rough day--for both of us." His ears twitched and he smiled. "We deserve a bit of fun."

Hiei glanced about uneasily, totally missing the invitation. "Kurama..." he began, his voice suspicious. "Why is this place growing angry at us? What have you been doing?"

Realizing the mood had vanished, the youko heaved himself out of the pool and started wringing the water from his hair. "Nothing...yet," he admitted. He had been so distracted by swimming he hadn't gotten around to locating any treasures. Now that his companion mentioned it, however, he *did* sense the anger building, directed mainly at him.

He couldn't pinpoint the source; the feeling emanated from everywhere. He had apparently gotten on the bad side of someone extremely powerful. Not that *that* was unusual, but this time he had no idea why. "Perhaps I *should* take a look outside," he concluded as the unfavorable emotion became even more oppressive.

"They're all humans out there," Hiei reminded him, pointedly eyeing the furry ears peeking through his silver hair.

Kurama wrapped himself back into his tunic, nodded his understanding, and took off after his friend as Hiei jogged toward the exit at--for him--a leisurely pace.

He paused at the door to shift forms, then continued following into the steady rain, his Shuuichi personality resuming control and berating him for taking such advantage of a holy place. Wandering around uninvited--though he had little choice in that regard--contemplating stealing from it, desecrating what was probably a sacred pool...it was no wonder the spirits were displeased with him.

The two made their way through the elegant complex. The style of the architecture was Chinese as well, matching the temple. It was certainly a broad hint that, wherever the gate had brought them, it wasn't any part of Japan he had ever visited. He got the sinking feeling he wouldn't be home in time for supper, which meant his mother would worry unless he found a way to call and let her know he was all right.

They quickly arrived at a scene of considerable commotion. No one noticed their approach, so concerned were they with the two young men facing off in the center of the courtyard. There was no mistaking the gravity of the duel; both combatants wielded extremely practical swords, and the amount of power concentrated around them nearly bowled Kurama over.

Most of the energy focused around the older of the two, a man whose decidedly beautiful features twisted with fury. He had the advantage over his opponent, a boy about Shuuichi's age dressed in dramatic black. Not only was the boy slightly outmatched, the healer in Kurama could sense something wrong with him, a darkness that permeated his soul.

The boy leaped at the other swordsman just as a female shout of protest rang out behind those gathered. Whoever had uttered the cry, she had come too late to stop the final strike. The older man raised his blade in an expert movement, impaling the boy through the stomach before his blow could land.

Kurama was as stunned as the crowd to watch the boy fall from the sword, hitting the stone of the courtyard with a sodden double thud. A cry of agonizing grief echoed through the entire compound. "Tamahome!" A girl, clad only in a sleeping robe, dashed across the courtyard and knelt beside the wounded boy, leaning over and embracing him.

The victorious swordsman stared at his handiwork in shock, the anger draining from him. He looked at the blood dripping from his weapon and dropped it as though he couldn't believe what he had done. The metal clattered accusingly upon the tiles.

Slowly the boy reached out his arm, grasping for his own dropped blade. Kurama shook his head in confusion. "What does he think he's trying to do?" he murmured. His friend only shrugged, less interested in the human drama now that the combat had effectively ended.

The girl took the sword, wrapping the boy's hand around its grip, permitting him to bring it to bear against her own body while she held him close. Kurama wanted to stop her, his instinct urging him to pull her out of danger, but judging by the comments he overheard, the others forced themselves to wait for the scene to unfold. The older swordsman held them all back.

As though a spell had broken, the darkness receded from the boy in a rush, relinquishing its hold upon him to be replaced by a weak--yet spiritually healed--aura. The swordsman and another man approached the couple. The man held a hand over the boy's gut wound. A bright glow emerged from his open palm, bathing the boy in its radiance.

After a moment, the remaining people cheered and surged forward to surround the four. All except one, that is. A young man with fiery red-orange hair lagged behind, unable to keep up with the rest due to extensive injuries that forced him to use a crutch for mobility.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, the first to spot the strangers. "What are you doing here? How did you get past the guards?"

Before Hiei reacted poorly to such blunt hostility, Kurama stepped forward, hands spread in a gesture of peace. They *were* trespassing, after all. "Please forgive our intrusion. We arrived here by accident. We're just trying to find our way home."

The young man scratched at one of his many bandages as he considered. "I'll have to ask Hotohori what to do with you," he replied finally. "Once Mitsukake gets done healing Tamahome... Damn!" He glared at the cluster of people. "That means it'll be another day until he recharges enough to heal *me*!"

Fascinated, Kurama watched as the boy got to his feet, supported by the girl in the robe. The swordsman who had delivered what should have been a fatal blow did not seem too dismayed that his opponent had been revived. Amazing, for a human to be able to wield that much healing power--even if only once a day.

Clearly these people had more than average experience with the paranormal. The chances of acquiring necessary assistance rose significantly.

Assured that the boy--Tamahome?--had made a complete recovery, the group began to trickle back in their direction. The first to approach them was a stunning woman with long, dark, violet-accented hair in a braid trailing over her shoulder. "What do you have here, Tasuki?" she asked the redhead.

He shrugged, wincing as the movement disturbed his wounds. "They claim they need our help to get home."

As the rest arrived, Kurama could sense his friend growing restless. He wasn't too surprised when Hiei burst out, "Stupid fox, chatting in the rain. You stay and talk; I'm going somewhere dry." With that, he took off faster than the eye could follow.

Kurama sighed. He didn't mind the rain so much--he was already wet from his swim--but he sympathized with the smaller youkai's point of view, if not the lack of tact. "You'll have to excuse Hiei," he apologized to the six people now surrounding him, Tamahome and the robed girl having gone elsewhere together. "He's not one for beating around the bush."

"So, Kitsune-san, how can we be of service no da?" came an oddly high-pitched voice from Kurama's left.

He turned, shocked at being recognized for his true self. He confronted a man with the clothes and staff of a monk. The blue-haired man's face seemed frozen in a perpetual smile. After a moment, Kurama realized that Hiei had just referred to him as "fox," so the monk must simply have picked up on it. "The gate we were using to travel malfunctioned," he answered honestly, hoping his guess that these people were familiar enough with magic to understand him was correct. "It dropped us in your temple and closed. We have to find some way to reopen it, or else transport ourselves home from here."

The swordsman from the duel exchanged glances with the monk, who nodded. Verifying his truthfulness? He couldn't blame them. "We'll do what we can," the swordsman promised. Seen this close, he was remarkably young to have exhibited such skill with a blade, no more than twenty at the most. Still, he possessed an air of dignity and self-confidence that set him apart as a man to be reckoned with.

"If it wouldn't trouble you too much," Kurama began, shifting the topic, "could you explain what just happened here? My friend and I were rather confused when we stumbled upon you. That boy, Tamahome..."

"Shall we?" the swordsman asked, cocking his head to indicate they should all follow him toward one of the buildings. The other five responded instantly and unquestioningly to his polite command. "Tamahome is one of us, the seven Suzaku Seishi. The rest of us are Hotohori," he tapped his chest, "Nuriko," the woman, "Chichiri," the monk, "Tasuki," the redhead, "Mitsukake," the healer, "and Chiriko," a younger boy clutching a flute.

"Kurama," he introduced himself, since they all went by single names, and that was what Hiei would call him anyway.

"It is our duty to guard the Suzaku No Miko, Miaka," Hotohori continued as they entered a conference room decorated in rich shades of red and orange. He took a seat at the head of the table and the other Seishi settled into place around it. "Tamahome is her sworn protector, but he was captured and...changed, by our enemy. We now have him back."

Kurama soaked up the information. Miaka, this "Miko" of Suzaku, must be the girl in the robe. He just had one more urgent question to take care of. "This is going to sound strange, but where am I?"

Hotohori's lips curved in an amused smile. Even drenched, the man was distractingly beautiful, much as Kurama himself appeared to others. "You are in the land of Konan," he said. Then he added, with clear emphasis, "*My* country."

Kurama had suspected as much, from the way the other Seishi deferred to the swordsman. If Hotohori had been the type to be angered by informality, he would have shown signs before this. To be on the safe side, however, Kurama bowed to acknowledge his status.

"Nuriko," the ruler suggested, "why don't you show our guest to a room and find him dry clothes. Some for his friend, as well, for when he returns."

"Hai, Hotohori-sama," she agreed at once. She rose to her feet. "If you'll come with me..." She led him along a roofed walkway, past a number of doors, until she located one she thought appropriate. "I'll be right back with clothes," she said, smiling warmly. He noticed she had a mole beneath her left eye; it enhanced her charm. "I know exactly what will suit you!"

"Thank you." He watched her stroll off along the walkway. Something struck him about the way she moved, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. With a shrug, he opened the door and stepped into the room. It was simply furnished, possessing only a bed, a dressing table with a chair, and a wardrobe. He couldn't fault the workmanship that went into the pieces, however. Back home they would be valuable antiques.

Konan. He had never heard of it, despite his extensive travels. The place showed no signs of any modern conveniences. No telephones, then. Not even any electrical outlets in the walls or electric lights. Had the inhabitants not been human, he would immediately have suspected they had not reached the Ningenkai. As things stood, that might indeed turn out to be the case.

"Here we are!" Nuriko exclaimed, bustling in with her arms laden. She dropped the bundle of fabric on the bed. "Some of these are mine, some I borrowed from Tamahome. If you stay longer, Emperor Hotohori can have his tailors outfit you. None of us is as small as your friend, but..." She pulled a beautiful dark blue and silver tunic from the top of the pile. "I saved this from when I was younger." An old sadness momentarily touched her eyes, then vanished. "It should be his size."

He bowed. "Thank you again, Nuriko-sama. We both appreciate your hospitality." Not stretching the truth *too* much, he hoped.

She waved a hand, brushing his gratitude away as unnecessary. "It's nothing. I'm sure you must be dying to get out of that..." She indicated the uniform he had been wearing as Shuuichi, which was darkened from all the rain it had absorbed.

He grinned ruefully, aware that he must be quite a sight. At least her noble sensibilities weren't offended.

She clasped her hands together. "You're welcome to join us for our evening meal in two hours, if you wish. The guards have been instructed to allow you free passage where you like, though you will be watched." She winked to take the sting from the announcement that they weren't fully trusted. "I'll be keeping my eye on you, too. It's not often Hotohori-sama has such attractive visitors." With a smile of farewell, she departed.

Kurama probed through the clothing she had left. She had said some of it belonged to her, yet it was all masculine. He supposed she needed it for any less-than-ladylike tasks she had to perform as a protector of the Miko. He stripped off his tunic, dried himself with the towel provided on the top of the pile, and selected a cream-colored outfit with russet trim.

He was just belting it around his waist when he noticed he had company. Hiei leaned against the doorframe. "What do you suggest we do now, Kurama?" he asked, in a quite reasonable tone of voice, considering.

Kurama sat in the room's one chair and reflected upon their options. "You could put on dry clothes," he suggested, pointing to what the Seishi had donated. Nuriko had an impeccable sense of style; he felt the tunic, with its design like ribbons of moonlight snaking across an evening sky, would suit his friend quite well.

Hiei, on the other hand, had a different idea. He peeled off his black jacket, which had taken the brunt of his soaking, and draped it over the handle of the wardrobe. "There," he said, his newly revealed double belt stark white against his midnight ensemble. "Are you through with distractions? We need to settle this."

Kurama nodded and recounted what he had learned so far of their situation. It wasn't much, and it brought them no closer to pinpointing their location or determining a method to transport home. Hiei had taken a detailed reconaissance of the Imperial Palace. He described the layout, on the principle that it was always best to be prepared when in foreign territory.

They finally reached the conclusion that they should wait and see if the Seishi could solve their problem. They already knew that some--if not all--of the seven possessed strong reiki, perhaps enough to open and direct a dimensional gate. They had to give the Seishi time to discuss the matter.

Kurama stood and began moving his borrowed clothing off the bed, putting it away in the wardrobe, avoiding the small puddle left by his friend's jacket. "If it's too damp for you outside," he said while he worked, "I'm sure our hosts could spare you a room. Or you could share this one," he offered.

Hiei was quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally he shook his head. "They would have us both in a place of their choosing. Vulnerable. We shouldn't risk it--not until we know more about them."

"Good point," Kurama sighed, resting briefly against a bedpost. "But, Hiei, I want you to remember that it's just as important to be polite as it is to be on our guard. We do want them to trust us."

The little youkai didn't comment, merely shrugged. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Wait--you're not coming to eat?"

"I have more scouting to do. I won't sleep until I know the territory." He aimed a Look that clearly said the fox was a fool for not doing the same. "Ja." A flicker of black, and he was gone...along with Nuriko's childhood apparel.

Kurama smiled, his green eyes sparkling. "Softie," he murmured.