The Fox and the Phoenix

"Youko Kurama. A fox spirit," he clarified. "Hiei is a fire spirit. We're from a realm called the Makai."

"And you mean no harm to my people?"

"I assure you, Emperor, we wish only to leave your country in peace."

Hotohori turned his back on the pond to examine his visitor. "When you helped Mitsukake--those plants you grew from nothing..."

Kurama couldn't resist smiling. "Not exactly from nothing." He took a tiny sprig of bamboo from his hair and grew it into a sizeable shoot, rather pleased at the emperor's reaction of surprised respect. "I use plants as weapons, as medicine, or simply to appreciate their beauty."

Hotohori tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robes. "That is an amazing talent. It makes me wonder what I might do if I had such power over living things."

"You already have considerable power, Majesty. You and the other Seishi. Mitsukake's healing, Tasuki's fire, Nuriko's strength...Chiriko's flute killed more of the monsters than my Rose Whip. You make a formidable team." He meant it honestly. He wouldn't want to go up against them himself--at least, not in a fair fight.

Hotohori sighed, angling his face to catch the gentle breeze skimming across the water. "Unfortunately, our enemies are just as formidable."

Kurama could sense the burden on his soul, of being responsible for the welfare of a nation. A heavy load for one so young, and he could share it with so few. "It appears you now have my enemies to deal with also," he said, his tone self-mocking to lighten the mood. "Ah, well, the sooner we're gone, the sooner they'll cease to disturb you."

It wasn't very subtle. It wasn't intended to be. The swordsman smiled, appreciating the attempt. "It may be possible for us to open a channel to your world," he revealed. "We have done it once before, for our Miko."

"Miaka?" He recalled the girl's modern outfit. "But she's still here," he pointed out the obvious.

"She returned to us, to complete her duty as the Suzaku No Miko. And to be with Tamahome." This last admission clearly cost him a great deal.

"Then there is a way?" the youko prodded.

"Perhaps. The Seishi have a special bond with the Miko. There are things we can do for her that we could not for anyone else, not even ourselves. And even though our last attempt succeeded in sending her home, there were...unforeseen consequences. However," he continued, just as Kurama's spirits began to sink, "there were only three of us at the time, and we were weakened, not nearly at full strength. With all seven, it may be a simple matter."

Kurama mulled this over as he watched dragonflies zip through the air in search of insects to devour. It was a chance. Slim, but better than nothing.

"Now, this enemy of yours," the emperor went on, beginning to stroll along the everpresent walkway. "Do you have any idea who it might be, or what he might try next?"

"Listing the names of those who hold grudges against me could take up a large amount of your precious time, Majesty."

Hotohori glanced sidelong at him. "Is this because you have led an exemplary life, or a troublesome one?"

He grinned. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Not particularly."

The other's lighthearted reply made Kurama chuckle. Finally, a playful atmosphere. He felt the approach of another Seishi moments before Nuriko came into view, something in her hands shining in the sun. An amusing notion popped into his head. "Hotohori-sama, there is one more thing you should know about me..."

"Oh?"

He changed. A small silver fox with a number of fluffy tails occupied the ground where the youko had been standing. Tongue lolling in good humor, he darted from the path and hid himself in the tall grass at the edge of the pond.

"Hotohori-sama!" Nuriko called. She joined him, looking about in confusion. "What happened to Kurama? I thought I saw him here with you."

"You did," the emperor answered unhelpfully, going along with the fox's prank.

This aroused Nuriko's suspicions. "He's not swimming in the pond, is he?" It was hard to tell whether she was excited or dismayed by the prospect.

"No, he's not swimming," Hotohori said truthfully. "Why do you want to see him?"

"I have something for him." She thrust her cupped hands forward. They were brimming with slender strips of gold fabric. "His hair is so wild and untamed, it cries out for a woman's touch. These match his eyes perfectly!"

Ribbons? She wanted him to put ribbons in his hair? That did it. He had to show himself.

With a bark to announce his presence, he bounded up out of the grass, twined around the startled Seishi's ankles, and then sprinted away, back toward the main palace.

"That," the emperor said, almost smugly, "was Kurama."

Nuriko narrowed her eyes and smiled devilishly. "Two can play at that game, Kitsune-san."

And the chase was on.

For years, all he had thought about was earning money to support his family. His younger brothers and sisters, his sickly father, they all depended upon him as their main source of income. However, his brother Chuei was now old enough to assume a lot of that responsibility, and as his father pointed out, Tamahome himself was old enough to...

His eyes lit upon Miaka where she knelt at Mitsukake's bedside. He had found something more important than money. More important than life. He wanted to be with her, to protect her, to love her until the moment he died--and beyond, if possible. He would endure anything, do anything to make that dream come true.

Except...how did one go about proposing to one's priestess?

He had told her, repeatedly, in no uncertain terms and braving the emperor's wrath, how much he cared for her. It had been her name he called after being tortured by the Seiryuu Seishi. His love for her had broken the bonds of the supposedly permanent drug the Seiryuu No Miko had used on him. Yet he felt intimidated every time he contemplated blurting out those words: "Will you marry me?"

What if she turned him down? She knew that she, as the only one capable of summoning Suzaku, was the main target of the Seiryuu side. On more than one occasion, she had pushed him away in an attempt to protect him from that danger. She knew quite well that he had devoted his life to her, that he would sacrifice everything for her, and it frightened her to think she might lose him because of that. So she tried to keep him safe, even if it meant putting herself at risk.

Baka.

What if she *couldn't* marry him? She came from another world. She might have to--or choose to--return there after the ceremony. Could he really ask her to give up her family, her home, her world, and everything she knew?

Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he assured himself, he could indeed ask.

He ached to lead a normal life with her, in a house all their own, where they could be together and raise children without fear of foreign Seishi or invading armies. But what if that wasn't what she wanted? Maybe she liked the excitement of being the Suzaku No Miko, the thrill of living as an honored guest of the emperor and having everyone bow to her as Konan's savior. What if she couldn't settle for the simple life he offered?

And so the words chased themselves around in his head, never reaching his lips.

He had resolved to propose after the summoning ceremony. She had promised that one of her wishes would be for them to be together forever; he should see the outcome before he asked. Yet now the ceremony had been delayed due to Mitsukake's injury, and Suzaku only knew if something else would be thrown at them when this hurdle had been crossed. Could he stand to wait that long before making his intention plain?

Miaka stood, satisfied, and cocked her head at him with a cheerful smile. "He'll be okay. Kurama-san did a very good job."

It always lightened his spirit to see her happiness. He followed her out of the healer's room and toward her own. On the way, he caught sight of a most unusual sparring session.

Tasuki faced off against the smaller of the two demon-visitors. The bandit swept his tessen forward, flaming Hiei, who was suddenly not there. Then the demon appeared behind the Seishi, made a comment, and blinked away again before the next blast of fire could reach him. Tamahome shook his head, grateful *he* wasn't on the receiving end. He got the impression that Tasuki would be more than willing to have a go at him.

He leaned against Miaka's doorframe as she went in and flopped on her bed with a sigh. So much had happened today, and it was only late morning. Would the lives of the Seishi ever be peaceful? Perhaps he should take what opportunity he had, rather than putting his question off for an unpredictable future.

"Miaka..." he began, taking a step closer. His heart fluttered terribly. He could face a dozen warriors in combat without a touch of fear, and the prospect of asking the one he loved to share his life filled him with anxiety so strong he could barely breathe.

"Mm?" She blinked at him expectantly.

"Miaka, I wanted to--" He broke off as a hysterical yipping sounded outside, interrupting his train of thought.

A blur of silver streaked past him, leapt up onto Miaka's bed, and curled itself into a quivering ball of fur behind her. He couldn't make out what kind of animal it was, but it certainly seemed to possess an overabundance of tails.

"Aha! Now I've got you cornered, Kitsune-san!" Nuriko crowed as she burst through into the room.

The animal whined and poked its nose around the Suzaku No Miko. "Don't give me that," Nuriko chided, shaking a finger at it. She carried something in the other hand. "Pardon me, Miaka," the Seishi said. She scooped the girl up in her free hand and set her aside. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she grabbed the animal, tucked it under her arm, and marched it out the door. As she passed him, Tamahome could see that it looked like an extremely resigned fox.

"What were you about to say, Tamahome?" Miaka asked.

He shook his head. "Never mind." He couldn't bring himself to finish. His concentration had been broken. Maybe later, when there wasn't so much excitement.

He could wait. Not very *patiently*...the memory of her kisses nearly made his blood unbearably hot...but he could wait.

To tell the truth--not that he would--he enjoyed the attention. Nuriko held him secure on her lap and was running a brush through his fur with gentle strokes, humming as she worked. It felt *wonderful*. The threat of be-ribboning wasn't so bad in this form, since all she could do was tie them around his tails...and they really did bring out the color of his eyes.

He stretched and rolled to bring a particularly itchy spot to her awareness. She obliged him quite nicely. He could get used to this.

"Kitsune-san?" Nuriko murmured. His ears pricked up. "Do foxes purr?"

He licked her wrist in amusement. She may have fooled his human senses, but she couldn't disguise her masculine scent from his animal perception. Still, she was so comfortable with herself, it was nearly impossible not to be comfortable around her.

"So, how long have you and your friend known each other?" she went on, not minding that he wasn't talking back. "You seem to be quite familiar with each other's abilities. I'd say you've fought at each other's sides a number of times. There's that bond between you, like that of the Seishi."

He nuzzled her hand as she stopped brushing. Something in her voice sounded almost sad.

"Ah, I should be grateful for what I have, right? We're teammates. He cares about me in that regard. It should be enough..."

He wriggled onto his side, the better to look up at her. She shook her head. "...But it isn't. Not for me. I love Hotohori-sama. I don't want him just as a friend, I want so much more."

Kurama wasn't sure exactly how to respond to that. But he felt a certain empathy with the Seishi's predicament.

"That's why I'm looking forward to summoning Suzaku," she continued, more cheerfully. "If I become a woman, and Miaka gets her chance at happiness with Tamahome, perhaps Hotohori-sama will come to accept me in her place." Her gaze swept the palace grounds, taking in Hiei and Tasuki's sparring session. "Until then... It hurts when the one you love doesn't return your affection--ne, Kitsune-san?"

He wrapped one of his tails around her arm comfortingly. "Don't worry about me," she assured him with a laugh. "Nuriko-sama is strong. She can do anything for the sake of her love."

He batted playfully at the ribbons she had set on the ground beside her. One or two wouldn't be so bad, now that he considered it.

He had finally built up his courage after the morning's disappointment. Tonight the stars would lend him the inspiration he needed to complete his question. Until the proper moment arrived, he made idle conversation, discussing the matter of the two demons, reminiscing about his childhood, and listening to her describe some of the food from her world she thought he would enjoy.

He settled down beneath one of the trees, his back against the trunk, and she joined him easily, leaning her head on his shoulder and twining her fingers through his. He loved being this close to her, but it was like delicate torture to realize how much closer they *could* be, if...

He turned his face away to hide his rising blush. He *had* to ask her, soon. The sooner the better. *Now* would be a very good time. "Miaka," he said gently.

The following string of curses was not at all consistent with his mood and did not, in point of fact, emanate from his mouth. A crashing from the branches above them preceded the thud of a dark shape square on the Seishi's lap.

The small demon ceased maligning everything in existence and, ignoring the two humans, stood up on Tamahome's leg and stared into the tree's canopy. "I *didn't* fall." He seemed to be in shock. "I *don't* fall. I *never* fall."

Tamahome was rather surprised himself, and in more than a bit of pain. The demon might be small, but he had impacted at a substantial velocity. "Hey!" he shouted, annoyed. "What do you think you're doing? Get off me!"

"I never *fall*," Hiei repeated, paying no heed. He was becoming increasingly pissed, but couldn't pin his anger on anyone in particular, which made him even more upset. "The branch must have thrown me off," he concluded, smoldering.

"*I'm* going to throw you off," Tamahome threatened, though the damage had already been done. He had lost the perfect opportunity.

The demon took notice of him for the first time. Tamahome nearly flinched under that burning red gaze, but he had faced worse. The demon simply sniffed, as if he were an inconvenient protrusion of the geography, and blurred away into the night.

Tamahome banged his head back against the tree trunk in exasperation. "Ouch," he muttered absently. That pretty much summed up his whole day.