He had never known his father. The emperor had died before he was born, killed in the war with Kutou. But he had heard stories told by his "uncles," the surviving Seishi. They spun tales about the war, about the Suzaku No Miko, about his father's bravery. His mother told stories as well, about his father's kindness and wisdom and love for his country.
And now he was in the place his father had come after he died. The pink lady had even met his father's soul, she said so. All he had to do now was find out where his father had gone.
He knew it wouldn't be easy. His father had been a very good man, so his soul must have been sent somewhere very special.
There had to be traces, clues, something. An emperor couldn't vanish entirely, could he? Back at the palace, he and his mother couldn't go anywhere without fanfare and soldiers and servants--and Tamahome, of course, his Seishi guardian.
He hoped his father had a Seishi guardian to keep him from being lonely.
And so he had set out on this quest, looking for echoes of fanfare to lead the way. He hadn't had much luck yet. All he had found were boring rooms with lots of paper and scary-looking monsters rushing around. At first he had been frightened, but they had only ignored him, and besides, Uncle Tamahome could look much scarier than they did when he was in his angry ogre form. After a while, he stopped running into them altogether.
He was just about to turn around and head back. He had entered an area with nobody in it, and it looked like no one had come through in a long time, because of the dust. He always noticed dust, since that was the one thing his mother made certain to remind her servants about. She didn't like to see it anywhere.
Yawning, he decided to check one last room, the one with the blue mark on it. None of the other doors had marks on them, so this one must be important. He tugged on the door to open it. It resisted his attempt, but he sensed it was only stuck, not locked. He reached up with both hands and strained with all his might, twisting his body for leverage, until finally it gave way. The inside was dark, but in the light that spilled from the hall he could see that it was very much like the other rooms he had visited.
He was turning to leave, disappointed, when he heard a slight rustle, as if someone had shifted a piece of paper. He assured himself it had to be from a breeze, but he didn't feel the air moving. Then he heard it again, like someone turning a page.
"Who's there?" he called. He was surprised at how small his voice sounded in the emptiness. That wasn't the voice of a future emperor, he chided himself, and tried a second time, putting his authority into it. "If someone's there, come out where I can see you. This instant!"
At first nothing happened. As he watched, however, a blue glow began coming from a small box sitting on a shelf. He backed away slowly, recognizing magic when he saw it, wondering what he had done.
Then the box opened.
Amiboshi awoke with a start, his whole body tingling. He sat up in bed, his heart racing, his breath coming in startled gasps. He forced himself to calm down. It must have been a bad dream. There was no danger here. He was in the Reikai, with his brother's ghost and the Suzaku Seishi...
He clutched his head, a sob of grief escaping his throat. "Suboshi." Why did you have to get yourself killed? You could have lived in peace. "Nuriko." A tear rolled down his cheek. "Mitsukake."
It had come back. All of it, all his memories, returned to haunt him. Why now? Why not before, when he could have benefited from them? If not then, why at all? He had been confused as Kaika, but he had also been happy. He would have been content to live the rest of his life without this pain.
But... He spent a few moments remembering the people he had lost. They didn't deserve to be forgotten. He had no right to banish them to oblivion, not even in his own mind. They had earned so much more. "Chiriko." He smiled, imagining the Seishi he had impersonated. They had never really met, but he was sure they could have been friends, under different circumstances. "Hotohori." The emperor had always enjoyed his music.
Someone rapped on his door and, without waiting for an answer, flung it open. "Aniki!" his brother shouted excitedly. Behind him, Botan blushed and averted her gaze. "Aniki, can you feel it? Look!" He pointed.
Amiboshi followed the line of his twin's finger to his own bare shoulder, upon which his Seishi symbol glowed. It had never appeared in all the years he spent as Kaika--he wondered how his parents would have explained its presence. "What happened?" he asked, getting out of bed and pulling on his tunic.
"Our powers, we have our powers back."
He tailed his brother out to the hall, where Botan hesitated visibly before facing him again. "I don't understand." He didn't remember losing his Seishi ability. He hadn't exercised it as Kaika, but he assumed that was because he hadn't known to do so.
"Shortly after I died," Suboshi told him, "I suddenly lost my power. The other Seishi souls confirmed my guess when Botan brought them through here--Miaka sealed away our god, locking up the source of our magic."
The three started out, Botan in the lead. "Koenma-sama needs to hear about this, if he doesn't already know," she said. "Either someone is channeling an enormous amount of energy and the two of you are picking it up..."
"...Or Seiryuu has somehow broken his seal," the musician finished for her.
Suboshi nodded. "Neither possibility bodes well."
"What about the rest?" Amiboshi asked, coming to a halt. "The Suzaku Seishi and their prince? Has anyone warned them?"
Botan spun toward him, her eyes wide. "The prince! No one has found him yet. He could be in danger, out there all alone."
"You go on ahead. Suboshi and I will gather the other Seishi and bring them to you. We can decide what to do about it then."
"Hai!" she agreed and hurried off.
As Amiboshi would have predicted, Konan's three Seishi were not at all pleased by the news. The one saving grace was that, since no one knew what had happened, no one could be blamed. Tamahome wanted to initiate a search for his charge at once, but his companions convinced him to wait until they could coordinate their efforts with their hosts'.
Suboshi led them to Botan in Koenma's office. They arrived just in time to hear the first breathless oni report on the damage caused by an unidentified man breaking his way out of the depths of the castle. There hadn't been any serious injuries yet, but the severity of the destruction was on the increase, presumably as the man continued to gain power.
"Botan," Koenma ordered, fixing her with a gaze that prevented any hint of argument, "fetch Yuusuke and that team of his. We need their help on this one."
"What about the missing child?" she asked, her oar materializing.
"We'll take care of locating him after you return." He glared at Tamahome when it seemed the warrior would protest. "Your best chance of keeping the boy safe is to stop this intruder quickly. I suggest you join our forces immediately."
Tasuki drew his tessen and rested it on his shoulder with a feral grin that displayed his fangs. "Where do we start?"
"My flute," Amiboshi murmured. Kaika never used it as a weapon, and so he had fallen out of the habit of carrying it with him. If he was to be of any assistance in the coming battle, he would have to retrieve it from his pack.
Suboshi regarded him uncertainly, the only one close enough to have heard his words. "Kaika?" he asked carefully.
There was no time to waste on explanations. "I'm getting my flute, little brother. Are you with me?"
His twin paused, measuring his resolve, then flashed a protective smile. "I'm with you."
By the time Yuusuke and his friends arrived on the scene, the unknown man had recovered enough power to manifest in his true form as the blue dragon of Kutou. Koenma searched frantically for an explanation of the god's appearance.
Chichiri had never fought Seiryuu before. The Suzaku team had battled the rival god's Seishi on numerous occasions, yet the humans had never confronted the dragon directly. Combat on that scale had been left up to the phoenix himself to handle. The concept of facing such a powerful creature with no divine support was intimidating.
Or perhaps it would have been, to another group of fighters.
Chichiri lived for the moment, accepting and appreciating every challenge life placed in his path. It was his way of honoring those he had lost, by fully experiencing the world they had created with their sacrifices. It was why he continued to travel, to learn, to struggle...and to smile.
Tasuki was always ready for a confrontation. It had been years since the constant action of the war, and though he kept himself busy leading his gang of bandits, he made no attempt to hide his delight at encountering a real test of his abilities.
No danger was too great to deter Tamahome--even for a second--if it threatened his charge. The warrior made an ideal Seishi because he lived to protect others. He needed the prince as much as the boy required his service.
They had all been through trial by fire. Not even a deity could give them pause.
The monk saw that the Reikai Detectives summoned by Koenma were just as prepared for the conflict, each in his own fashion. The two boys, Kuwabara and Yuusuke, argued vociferously over which of them would cause their opponent the most damage. It was an impressive show of optimism that drew Tasuki's approval.
Kurama, the demon who had visited their world six years before, displayed more restraint, in accordance with his personality. He greeted the Seishi warmly on behalf of both himself and his dark companion, who was hurriedly pulled aside by Botan to locate the missing prince. The fox seemed surprised, however, by his other teammates' quick understanding of the visitors and their situation.
"Aw, Botan's been going on about these guys for *days* now," Yuusuke told him. "I've been watching her try to contact them."
The group set off on the trail of the dragon, Kurama still puzzling over the new information. "I'm curious why I never heard anything. It sounds like a major project."
Kuwabara managed to look somewhat abashed. "That would probably be my fault," he admitted.
"Yeah," Yuusuke put in, grinning, obviously pleased that he could legitimately lay the blame on his friend. "He was boasting--"
"Was not!" the tall young man protested, his cheeks turning pink.
"--About how he's gonna take Yukina far away on their honeymoon, so they won't be interrupted by just any old emergency. That got Botan thinking." He rolled his eyes. "Women are all the same. She figured, what with you...you know, just starting out at your new apartment and everything, you wouldn't want to be bothered with stuff that wasn't going to affect you anyway."
The demon pulled out one of his roses in preparation and brushed it across his lips before replying. "A thoughtful gesture, but I'd say this certainly affects me now."
Chichiri couldn't resist taking advantage of the opening. Expending a small burst of energy--not enough to make a difference in the coming battle--he enhanced his appearance. "That would be *my* fault, Kitsune-san," he chirped, brushing the fox with his elegant blue tail and twitching his furry ears.
He could claim that he knew how important morale was to the success of any dangerous venture and wanted to raise spirits. He might protest that he was trying to overcome dissimilarities and forge stronger bonds between the two groups before they engaged their enemy.
But, really, he did it because it was fun to tease his friends.
Kurama winked at him. "There goes my reputation."
They had no difficulty locating the dragon, they had only to follow the sounds of destruction that rumbled through the halls. The god had nearly reached the outer wall, but whether his goal was to escape or create further chaos, no one could say. Koenma had sent them off with instructions to do what they must to subdue the dragon while he searched for a way to re-implement some form of containment, but to cause as little damage to the surroundings as possible. Yuusuke had responded with a smirk that expressed his opinion of that directive.
The monk paused for a brief check on the tie to the prince he had established. Each of the three Seishi looked after the boy in his own fashion. Tamahome protected his body. Even while wandering, Chichiri constantly monitored the child's health, as reflected by his chi. Tasuki's bandits, though outlaws by any reckoning, also served as a communication network to the border regions they "patrolled," and they fiercely defended their territory, keeping the levels of slavers and worse criminals lower than would otherwise be feasible for a country with such strained official resources.
Satisfied that his friend's son fared well, wherever he was, the blue youko turned his full attention to the matter at hand. The sheer enormity of the task began to sink in as they caught their first glimpse of the dragon. The Seishi had seen him before, but they had been distracted at the time. They had been new to their Miko's world, a city of metal and stone and glass crafted into buildings that towered over them. Confronted by such alien surroundings, the size of the god was but one more curiosity among many.
Now, however, that sinuous, blue-green body filled their field of view, nested in a bed of rubble from walls that had no chance of containing it. Despite the destruction the creature had caused, Chichiri could not help but admire it. Seiryuu was beautiful, in the way that a violent tempest could be. He burned with raw, elemental power, roaring out his rage in a pure voice, devoid of human complications.
Yuusuke and Tasuki sprang forward at once, the boy aiming a blast of brilliant energy at Seiryuu and the bandit sweeping flames from his tessen. Kuwabara wasn't far behind, slashing at the glistening scales with a glowing sword of his own spirit. Kurama, Rose Whip in hand, transformed into his more powerful youko guise before leaping to attack.
Seiryuu writhed at the assault, swinging his head around to glare at the source of the annoyance. He flicked his tail, forcing the warriors to dodge aside. Chichiri launched one of his magical spells, but the dragon reared, deflecting the energy with his armored shoulder. Discouraging, but at least they were fortunate to have caught up with him before he had recovered his former, near-omnipotent glory.
Tamahome gestured, urging them to drive their enemy outward, through the wall, toward the exterior of the fortress. If they could get him in the open, they wouldn't have to worry about bringing the place down on top of them. The fighters followed his lead, determinedly harrying the god. Their best efforts were clearly little more than irritations, but even a dragon will avoid discomfort if given the choice. It felt to the monk like they were persistent flies herding a work horse, one step at a time, always barely escaping that fatal swat.
Finally, with a frustrated bugle, Seiryuu crashed through the wall. The defenders pursued, the small taste of success strengthening their hearts. Even so, Chichiri knew they wouldn't last long at their current rate. Already the two boys sported visible injuries, and he could sense his own chi draining with each spell. Kurama's plants were more effective with the soil to dig their roots into, but unless they were lucky enough to locate a weakness in the overlapping scales, even they could make no progress. If the warriors didn't end this soon, they didn't have a hope of achieving victory, though not one of them would admit defeat.
The monk spun his staff, warding off a spray of rocky debris kicked up by the struggle. The Seishi weren't at their full complement, as they had been for their showdown with Seiryuu's champion, but they had gained experience in the interim that compensated for some of that loss, and the contributions of the Reikai Detectives were invaluable. Perhaps, with a new strategy, they could better utilize the available talents.
Last time they had overcome Nakago by... "We should pool our powers no da!" he shouted. He knelt and jammed his staff into the ground. Tasuki whirled, his long coat flaring, and stood slightly behind him, bracing a hand on his shoulder. Tamahome, his symbol blazing and his arms poised to frame a ball of energy, faced the maddened god without flinching.
Kurama, a streak of silver, bounded over to Chichiri's side, opposite the bandit. "It's not often I can assist such a handsome youko," he said, firmly gripping the magician's staff with a sly smile. He wasn't a Seishi, but he had dealt with Suzaku before and should be able to focus and merge with them.
The monk concentrated, pouring their combined chi into Tamahome. Yuusuke and Kuwabara did their part by acting as diversions. The increased intensity of the attack took the dragon by surprise, pushing him several more paces away from the damaged wall.
Seiryuu cried out and whipped around toward the cause of his pain, his eyes promising vengeance. Tamahome and Yuusuke blasted him simultaneously, wringing a threatening growl from deep in the beast's throat. He shook his head, recovering from the assault, and spotted the group of stationary targets. Mouth gaping wide, he shot toward them, uncoiling his serpentine body with lightning speed.
Tasuki dove aside, narrowly escaping. The youko darted away, his swift reflexes removing him from immediate danger. Chichiri could observe them both from the plane of meditation his mind occupied as the focus of their merged chi. It would take longer for him to regain control of his body were he to attempt the same type of retreat; he had no time for such a physical maneouver. Instead, he could take advantage of his magic to raise a barrier against the dragon.
Everything in that last second seemed to happen in slow motion: Tasuki vaulting to his feet...Tamahome recharging for another attack...Kuwabara guarding his friend by launching himself at the deity's tail with his sword at the ready...Kurama turning back to sweep the paralyzed monk out of harm's way.
The demon's motivation was admirable, but in this case his effort was misplaced. Despite his quickness, he couldn't outrace the descending jaws. Chichiri waited until the youko's arms wrapped around him and then formed his kekkai, locking them in a protected bubble as Seiryuu's teeth snapped shut.
Kurama flinched involuntarily. When he realized he was still intact, he opened his eyes and regarded his surroundings, releasing his grip on the Seishi. Chichiri watched, amused, as the fox figured out that the blue-green glow outside their transparent globe was the inside of Kutou's god. "What happened?"
"Seiryuu swallowed...mm, more like absorbed us no da."
The silver youko stroked the inside of the barrier that was the only thing preventing them from becoming part of the dragon permanently. "How long can you keep this up?"
"If I draw upon your power, no more than an hour no da."
Kurama accepted the news gracefully. He sat cross-legged beside the monk. "Is there any way for us to fight from in here?"
Chichiri shook his head. "The moment the kekkai weakens, the god's essence will overwhelm us no da. There would not be a chance for us to strike no da."
Kurama growled in frustration. "Then we're stuck here, useless." The tip of his tail twitched. "What are we supposed to do--stare at each other for an hour while our ki drains away?"
"It's not *that* unpleasant a view, is it, Kitsune-san?"
Kurama was not mollified. The Seishi could see that something was bothering him. Part of it was the sense of helplessness, of isolation from friends who were battling for their lives. Yet there was something behind that, a desperation the youko was hiding with his anger--possibly even from himself. Chichiri had worn a mask for years; he had become skilled at recognizing masks on others.
It might be due to the irony of their situation. Here they were, trying to defend the world of the afterlife, and if something didn't happen soon to set them free, they would no longer require a place for their souls to go. If Seiryuu absorbed them, they wouldn't simply die, their souls would be part of him forever. It would be immortality, in a way, keeping them from reincarnating as they should. The thought would disturb anyone.
Perhaps what the fox needed was a distraction. "Let me tell you a story no da."
"What kind of story?" Kurama was justifiably suspicious. Chichiri made it a point to be unpredictable.
"A tale about the prince of a faraway kingdom no da." He couldn't help smiling as he thought of the boy.
The silver youko waved a hand, signaling for him to proceed. Chichiri settled himself more comfortably, curling his tail around into his lap. He started with the emperor's marriage to Houki-sama, a match blessed by the spirit of the Seishi who had loved him. He then described the birth of Hotohori's son and the hope it brought to all of Konan's people, sorely needed after the devastation of the war. He told of the games he played with the child, mentioning with pride the times that the prince managed to get the better of him.
Kurama remained silent throughout the narrative, but his expression showed that his mind was far from idle. Whatever path his thoughts had taken, they led him to a firm conclusion revealed by the determination in his gaze. Before he could begin to speak, however, a ghostly tune echoed through their prison. The fox's ears perked up. "Where's that sound coming from?"
The monk felt it, a change in the forces surrounding them. The music emanated from the dragon, and yet the god struggled against it. The melody was foreign, but the instrument was extremely familiar. "Amiboshi...?"
"What?"
"It resembles Amiboshi's flute no da." He hastily explained the musician's confusing identity switches.
The youko sprang to his feet and braced his hands on the wall of the bubble, attempting to peer outside. "Then the dragon will listen to him!"
Chichiri wasn't so sure. He had to devote his full attention to maintaining the barrier as the deity fought to ignore its Seishi's commands. It didn't seem as though the creature was overjoyed at the reunion. Not even the Seiryuu No Miko had been strong enough to control him when he first manifested--could Amiboshi, who until recently hadn't known of his status, succeed at the task?
The demon turned and frowned at the the amount of energy being siphoned from him, but he was concerned rather than upset. "How much longer do we have?"
"With the fluctuations, it's difficult to predict, but I'd say we can last another seven minutes no da."
Kurama closed his eyes. "If Hiei were out there, he'd have us sliced free of the dragon's belly in no time." His lips curved up. "Then he'd let me know in quite explicit detail how stupid I was to get caught in the first place."
"Da." He couldn't spare any more than that without breaking his concentration. He barely noticed when his companion was forced to revert to his human form. The music had grown more persistant, authoritative. He focused on the notes, using their resonance to support his wavering spell.
Without warning, a violent shudder rocked the bubble, a second one following closely behind it. Chichiri bowed his head and gritted his teeth, his fanciful illusion vanishing as he sought to extend their protection by precious seconds. A third tremor hit, tilting their refuge on its side, sending the fox crashing on top of him.
The unexpected pain of the collision was enough to disrupt his hold on the magic. The kekkai flickered out, and then he was falling, wind grabbing at his robes. He landed on something sturdy that gave slightly with the impact, cushioning him.
"I was wondering how long you two were going to laze around while we did all the work," Tasuki said, setting him on his feet.
Chichiri blinked, disoriented. The dragon had vanished. In its place stood Seiryuu in the shape of a man, the twins flanking him. Tamahome had apparently caught Kurama, while the other two Reikai Detectives were taking turns comparing injuries and shooting glares at Kutou's god.
"You shoulda seen it, though," the bandit continued, grinning. "You must taste awful. Either that or you gave him serious indigestion--I didn't know a dragon could look so sick."
Behind them, Botan arrived on her oar. Tamahome was the first to greet her, no doubt anxious for news of the prince. "Anyway," Tasuki went on, "that's when Kaika showed up. Turns out he had gone to get his flute, and his way back to us was blocked. He made it, finally, and played until Seiryuu coughed you guys up."
Chichiri retrieved his staff, which had fallen a short distance away. He was glad his friends had come through the battle more or less intact. Botan was a lovely young lady--he smiled as he watched her fussing over the twins--and she performed a necessary service, but it was comforting that they would not yet have to deal with her in her professional capacity.
Tasuki interrupted his thoughts with a hearty declaration. "They'd better have some food around here. I've worked up an appetite."
It was *quite* satisfying to see Seiryuu wince.