For the Good of the Many
By Yume Arashi
3/15/00
***just before departure for Hokkan***
~~~~
In his dream, Hotohori stood on a field of snow that was surrounded by mountains. He was trying to figure out where he was when a sound from behind him caught his attention. He turned to see Nuriko kneeling in the snow, his head bowed, his hair shorn at the shoulders.
"Nuriko? What..."
"Why do you hate me so, Hotohori-sama? I only loved you. I never hurt you, never..."
"Nuriko, I don't hate you." He went to his fellow star, kneeling beside him. It was then that he saw the terrible wound in the smaller man's chest. "Nuriko!"
The other seishi didn't answer. Hotohori put a hand under his chin and raised it to look into his face, but the violet eyes were empty and cold. Nuriko was gone.
His own cry woke him, bringing the guards to pound on his door. After reassuring them that there was no cause for alarm, Hotohori looked around. It was early morning, not quite dawn. He fought down the urge to go check on Nuriko. Breakfast was in just a few hours, and he'd see then that the other seishi was fine. It was only a dream, after all...
~~~~
Nuriko was indeed at breakfast, and as lively as ever as he mercilessly teased Miaka and Tamahome. Hotohori watched with a smile as Tasuki made one of his typically insensitive remarks and was subsequently knocked into a wall.
He was just beginning to relax when a casual remark from Miaka sent a chill running through him.
"Have you noticed how it's been getting colder? I bet there'll be snow where we're going!"
A half-remembered image of lifeblood staining delicate snowflakes left Hotohori shivering. Had his dream been a vision of what was to come?
"Chichiri, may I speak with you, please?"
"Of course no da."
~~~~
Hotohori told Chichiri about his dream, explaining his fear that it might have been a portent of things to come. Chichiri looked thoughtful.
"What you saw could indeed have been a possible future. Taiitsu-kun said that things would be harder now, and no one's survival has ever been guaranteed."
"Does he have to go with you? If he stays here, that still leaves the five of you to protect Miaka."
Chichiri frowned. "We shouldn't give the Seiryuu seishi the advantage in numbers. Too few of us will be going as it is."
"I can't just send him to his death!"
"Hotohori-sama, being a seishi is dangerous. Nuriko knows that. Even if he knew of your dream, I doubt he would choose to stay."
"But..."
"Hotohori-sama, summoning Suzaku must always be our first priority. If one, or half, or all of us die to accomplish that goal, so must it be. We are the protectors of this nation, and war is at hand. Can you set one man's life above the good of so many? I doubt Nuriko would want you to."
At this reminder of the people he'd been born to serve, Hotohori bowed his head. "So be it..."
~~~~
Two days later, Hotohori watched Nuriko help load the boat with the final preparations for the voyage to Hokkan. Occasionally he'd catch the other seishi gazing at him with wistful eyes, and his heart hurt him. He wanted so much to give Nuriko a hug, to hold him just once in his arms, but he knew it was not possible. Not here, not now. And probably not ever.
~~~~
It was a few weeks later that the terrible waiting came to an end. The foreboding that Hotohori hadn't been able to shake became painfully justified as he felt Nuriko's soul ripped away from his own. He wanted to rage at the horrible inevitability of it all, that even knowing that this would happen, he hadn't been able to stop it. What cruel fate had consigned them to such terrible roles? What good was a world so utterly without justice, what use in serving a god who could not protect his own Chosen? Hotohori knew there had been a time when he took pride in being a seishi. But Suzaku had betrayed his trust, and he couldn't love a faithless god.
~~~~
The young emperor sat in his bath, scrubbing his skin raw while tears of anger and pain traced down his cheeks. It was his wedding night, supposedly the happiest night of his life. He hadn't expected it would be, but when they'd retired to the bedchamber, he'd found himself sickened at the thought of carrying out his 'royal duty'. As much as he knew that the throne needed an heir, he shrank from touching her. But duty was duty, and he'd had no choice.
Her blood on his skin was replaced by his own now, as he tried to escape the feeling of having been used. Logic taunted him, asking how the act could have been unwilling when he'd performed easily enough. His body, untouched for almost nineteen years, had reacted in despite of his heart. Hotohori scrubbed harder, furious at the intimate betrayal.
He'd never truly believed he'd be in this position. Despite being taught the importance of choosing a politically appropriate empress and providing an heir, he hadn't ever believed it would apply to him. He'd always planned to find the Suzaku no Miko and marry for love.
The thought of love pained him. It had been a mistake to marry a woman who looked so much like the man who had loved him. He had thought, upon seeing the astonishing resemblance, that perhaps he could pretend, could deceive himself... His lips twisted into a bitter smile at the ludicrous idea, born of desperation. Had he thought that this would be the least painful way? How wrong he had been... Arriving in the bedchamber, he had embraced his wife, half-expecting to feel a slender, muscular body in his arms. Upon feeling her soft, feminine curves, it had taken all his will not to push her away with a cry of pain.
Hotohori leaned back with a sigh, his body and his tears equally exhausted. He knew that he ought to go to bed, but the thought of rejoining his wife made his skin crawl. After a moment's hesitation, he sighed and stood. Falling asleep in the bath was definitely a bad idea. He just hoped that his ordeal had accomplished its goal. Merely sleeping next to his wife would be hard enough without having to repeat the events of this night.
~~~~
Hotohori surveyed the battlefield, eyes narrowing as he saw the leader of the Seiryuu seishi. A small inner voice told him to be careful, to stay away. For the good of Konan. At the familiar and now-hated thought, he spurred his horse forward with a cry of rage and loss. He had sacrificed his heart when he'd let Nuriko leave for Hokkan, his body when he'd married a stranger to provide an heir to the throne. What was left to sacrifice but his life?
~~~~
As the darkness closed in, he saw Nuriko holding out his hands to him, sadness still haunting the soft violet eyes. As Hotohori left his body behind to embrace the slender seishi, his pain melted away, whispering as it went that some gods were not wholly faithless.
~~~~