Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Legend ~ Book One: Girl of Legend ❯ Four: Begging for Favors (the Emperor Way) ( Chapter 4 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

  Given the choice between the heavily-armed guards and the four thugs in the alley, KC decided she would much rather take her chances with the thugs. Unfortunately, they had vanished along with the rest of the crowd (at least that part of the plan had worked), and as she'd been surrounded on all sides by a bristling wall of very pointy spears, she was hardly in a position to go looking for them.

   "How dare you disrupt the royal procession, and how dare you attack the emperor's palanquin?" a soldier in a very gaudy captain's helmet bellowed furiously as he brandished his sword at her. "The punishment for such insubordination is death!" The sword rose threateningly.

   KC's eyes widened. Death? The emperor's palanquin? What in the name of Peter, Paul, and Mary had she just gotten herself into? In a panic, she pointed a shaking finger at the eight servants who'd borne the palanquin (and who now frantically attempted to disentangle its occupant), and blurted, "Th-they're the ones who dropped the guy! Why aren't you threatening them?"

   "Silence!" the captain roared, raised his sword and prepared to bring it down on her. KC screamed and covered her head with her arms in a useless attempt to protect herself, wishing with all her might to wake up from whatever nightmare she'd managed to fall into.

   "Stop!"

   The forceful command immediately halted the sword's descent. The soldier snapped to attention and turned to face the speaker. KC nervously peeked out from between her arms to see that the servants had managed to free the emperor and he now stood beside the ruined carriage, none the worse for wear after his impromptu tumble to the ground. He stood tall and noble (if not slightly disheveled) in the sunlight. His embroidered crimson robes framed his figure proudly, and his face … was almost completely obscured by the most ridiculous hat KC had ever seen. She'd thought the captain's helmet was gaudy, but it was nothing to the emperor's crown, which strongly resembled a crimson graduation cap with long, golden fringes dangling over the front rim to conceal his face.

   To her horror, a hysterical giggle threatened to escape. She desperately forced it back and, well aware that her life depended on her next actions, dropped her gaze in a pretend show of respect.

   This nearly proved her undoing, however, when she caught sight of the emperor's shoes peeking from beneath the immaculate white ruffles of his robes. She choked down another convulsive laugh. He looked like a duck with two broken feet in those shoes, with his toes pointed straight up in the air.

   "What should we do with her, Your Majesty?" The captain seized KC by the hair. She screeched in pain and grabbed his wrist, tried to wrench away; she was rewarded with a rough shake. "Look at her! I never saw clothes like these before. She must be a spy from Kutou!"

   "I'm not either!" she protested and squealed as her hair was pulled again. "Ow! Stop it, you jerk! I was—Ow! I was being stalked by some boys in the alley and they wanted to sell me to slave traders! I just thought—Ouch! Will you let go of my hair?—I thought if I could hide with the guards they'd leave me alone. I didn't mean to ruin your parade, honest!" She turned pleading eyes back the emperor, hoping he was a lot nicer than the stupid captain.

   "Release the girl's hair, please."

   KC breathed a sigh of relief as she rubbed her sore scalp. She glared at the captain and fought the urge to kick him in the shin. Mostly because he wore gold-plated boots, so she'd probably end up hurting herself more than him. The emperor stood silently for a long moment, and even though she couldn't see his face, she could feel his eyes fixed on her, studying her as he considered her story. Finally, after a long moment, he gestured, and she abruptly found her arms captured in the hard grip of two more soldiers. "Hey!" she yelped. "What're you doing? He said to let me go!"

   "He said to release your hair. We have," the captain corrected smugly.

   "Place the child under arrest," the emperor commanded calmly, "and bring her to the palace. We shall consider her sentencing there."

   "Child!" KC yelped in outrage, struggling futilely to free her arms. "I didn't do anything! I told you it was an accident! Why're you picking on me? You should be chasing those thugs or looking for slave traders or something! Is this how you treat all the guests in your city? Hey! Are you listening to me? Hey!"

   "Shut her up," the captain snapped. In response, one of the soldiers drew a knife from his belt and raised it, hilt-first. KC barely had time to register this action before a sharp pain exploded in the back of her skull, and she slumped forward, out cold. "Take her to the dungeon," the captain barked and the two guards saluted and dragged the unconscious girl through the procession of soldiers.

   He turned to face the emperor and abruptly cringed when he realized that the man had removed his crown to fix him with a frosty stare. "That was unnecessarily harsh," he stated in a soft, disapproving voice. "She is only a frightened girl." Without another word, he turned and summoned a servant to bring him a horse, gracefully mounted and rode back to the palace, leaving the heavily-sweating captain to clean up the mess in the street.

~*~*~*~*~

   "Urgh…" KC slowly regained consciousness, aware of a dull ache in the back of her head and the unpleasant sensation of cool, damp rock under her cheek. Moaning, she slowly raised herself onto her hands and knees, blinked gritty eyes in the dim light as she tried to get her bearings. "Where am I now?" she mumbled, bringing a hand up to rub her aching skull. She grimaced when her fingers touched a small knot on the back of her head. "That jackass. Didn't his mother teach him not to hit girls? I bet he never had a date in his life."

   She rose unsteadily to her feet once her eyes had adjusted enough to see her surroundings. She immediately wished she couldn't when she realized she'd been locked inside a small, dark cell, with a mere slit of a window to allow pale sunlight to slip through. Mildewed straw scattered haphazardly over the filthy stone floor, and a pile of tattered rags that were apparently supposed to serve as blankets lay in a crumpled pile in the corner. She was so cold that she actually considered wrapping one or two of them around her shoulders to gain a bit of warmth. Slight movements from within the pile, however, quickly put an end to that idea.

   She sank to the floor again, back against the chilled wall, and pressed her throbbing head against her drawn-up knees, allowed hot tears to run freely down her cheeks. She sat for a long time in a numb daze, cold and wet, filthy and sore all over. She could not remember ever being so miserable in her life. Even when her parents had unexpectedly divorced three years ago, she hadn't felt as helpless as she did now. At least she'd had Brady and Kimiko to help her through the confusion and difficulties. Here, she had nobody to rely on but herself, and herself seemed pretty useless in this situation.

   She barely registered the sound when the heavy door of her cell rattled and opened with a harsh groan. Two guards entered her cell. "His Majesty wishes to see you. Try anything funny and you'll regret it," one of them warned as he fingered his drawn weapon.

   "Heh. She don't look like she could try anything," the other snorted. "I wouldn't worry about her. Let's just get her upstairs. And don't hurt her; His Majesty's pretty upset about the first knock she got."

   Guard One grunted his agreement and stepped further into the cell. "Get up, girly. Time to go."

   When KC continued to ignore them, they glanced at each other, then stepped forward and took her by each arm to hoist her to her feet. That got her attention, instantly snapped her out of her stupor. Her gaze darted back and forth between them, eyes huge with fright.

   The two men exchanged uneasy glances. "Blue eyes. Ain't natural," the first grunted.

   "Only blue-eyed folk I've heard of are that heathen tribe Kutou wiped out of existence years back," the other agreed, brow furrowed. "You think she's a survivor?"

   "Naw. Lookit her! She ain't near old enough to've been alive that long."

   "Unless she's a witch like the captain said. Didn't they all practice dark magic? She could've cast a spell, made herself immortal or somethin'."

   KC swallowed, not liking the turn this conversation was taking. Witchcraft and superstitious ninnies were a volatile mix, and the way the two men looked at her, with growing fear in their eyes, made her more than a little nervous. "Wh-what're you doing? Where are you taking me?" she demanded, struggling weakly in their grasps. "Leave me alone!"

   "Just come with us. Th' emperor wants to see you." Guard One seemed to soften a bit when he saw her terror. "Don't worry," he grunted. "His Majesty's a fair man. He won't be too hard on you, so long as you ain't a Kutou spy or nothin'."

   "I've never even heard of Kutou."

   "Then you ain't got nothin' to worry about, do ya?"

   KC gritted her teeth, forced to stumble along as they pulled her from the cell and up a flight of stairs. She struggled to keep up; her legs were numb and stiff, and she kept tripping over her own feet. She would have fallen numerous times had it not been for their tight grasps on her arms, but she could tell they were getting impatient, given the way they jerked her to her feet every time she stumbled. She wondered if they'd just eventually let her fall and drag her through the halls on her back, decided to put more of an effort into staying upright, just in case.

   At least her brain had woken up a little. Adrenaline had kicked in again, sharpening her senses and clearing the fog from her mind. After traversing a limitless number of hallways and passing through an elaborate outdoor courtyard in which a great deal of activity was going on, they finally stopped before a large, ornate door. The soldier on KC's left knocked once and opened it; the one on her right pushed her rather forcefully into the room beyond. "In ya go, witch," he snapped, and then the door closed with a resounding thud behind her, leaving her alone in a very large and lavishly furnished study.

   Only, she wasn't alone. A man sat serenely behind a large desk on the far side of the room, hands folded on the polished wooden surface as he studied her silently. "Please come closer," he commanded after a moment, and KC immediately recognized the emperor's soft voice. She gulped and moved carefully toward the desk, praying her legs wouldn't collapse right out from under her. Her knees felt like jello, weak and wobbly. She walked as slowly as she dared until she reached the edge of an oriental carpet spread a few feet from his desk. She stopped dead in her tracks at that point, the emperor finally close enough to see clearly.

   The first thing she noticed was the stupid fringed hat was gone, and she could finally get a clear look at his face. The second thing she noticed was that he was a surprisingly young emperor. He couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than herself.

   Correction. His age was the third thing she noticed. The second thing was that this young emperor was very, very handsome.

   In fact, she thought, handsome wasn't even the right word. Handsome didn't begin to describe how attractive this man was. There were not a lot of people in the world who could be called stunningly beautiful, and even less who were of the male persuasion. But this stunningly beautiful young emperor was clearly not your average male homosapien.

   Are his eyes golden?

   This was, naturally, the first remarkable feature she noticed since those eyes happened to be fixed directly on her in a calm, unwavering gaze. Yes, she decided. They were most definitely golden, and they were surrounded by the most beautifully long, black lashes she'd ever seen. The kind of eyelashes Brady usually spent twenty-five bucks on a tube of mascara to achieve. The kind of eyelashes most women would kill to have been naturally born with.

   Not that the rest of him was any less perfect. His was the kind of face to inspire poets and artists to write sonnets or carve marble statues in honor of Greek gods. His features were perfectly proportioned, with a straight, aristocratic nose set above a firm, sensual mouth. His skin looked as smooth and pale as glazed porcelain. Completely unblemished by even a freckle. KC was willing to bet it had never once been touched by so much as a pimple.

   Man buns seemed to be the hairstyle of choice in this country; the emperor's hair was also pulled into a severe topknot, but for a silky fringe that hung enticingly over his eyes. KC had a difficult moment trying to decide its exact color. It looked like common brown, at first. Just a shade or two lighter than her own hair. Then he shifted, and his head tilted just so, and the sunlight that streamed through an arched entrance to the left caught and instantly transformed the dark strands into glowing silver. Not the white-gray of Mrs. Potter's hair, but an amazing, rich, dark shade that glistened like polished pewter.

   "How can you be real?" she whispered, stunned, not even realizing she'd spoken the thought aloud.

   Everything about this person was a harmony of both masculine and feminine beauty, the sort of physical perfection that seemed more fantasy than reality. But there he sat, watching KC watch him, and his eyes held a certain amusement as he patiently waited for her to finish her scrutiny.

   It took her an embarrassingly long time to realize how terribly rude she was being. The moment she realized she was openly gaping at him, she hastily dropped her gaze, mortified by her lapse in manners. She could feel a dark, hot flush creep up her neck and into her face and realized that her heart had started pounding much too fast against her ribcage. She did not deal well with men. Unlike Brady, who was a natural-born flirt, she always managed to turn herself into a stuttering, tongue-tied idiot when it came to handling members of the opposite sex. Even Kimiko, who wasn't even interested in dating, could talk to boys with perfect ease.

   Swallowing around her dry tongue, KC not-so-subtly wiped her sweaty palms against her thighs, stared fixedly at the floor, and waited for the emperor to make the next move.

   "May We ask your name?"

   She flinched. The Imperial We? This was serious.

   His voice, like the rest of him, was regal and commanding, yet somehow gentle as the deep, silky tones rippled over her senses. She shivered just slightly. His voice was just as beautiful as his face. A man this perfect should be illegal, she decided as she shifted from foot to foot, a nervous habit from childhood she'd never been able to break. "K-Katriana Choinski, Sir … um … Majesty," she stuttered. "P-people mostly just call me KC."

   The emperor nodded. "We are Saihitei Seishuku, although We are also known as Hotohori." He gestured to a wooden chair pulled up to the desk with a slim, elegant hand. "Well … KC. Would you care to sit down?"

   She glanced at the chair, considered refusing for a moment, then decided it'd be in her best interest to obey. Mostly because she wasn't sure how much longer she could stand. Moving like a jerky, wooden puppet, she took those final steps toward the armchair and dropped into it with an ungraceful plop. She twisted her hands into the hem of her shirt, met the emperor's gaze with all the courage she could muster (which admittedly wasn't very much), and waited.

   A slight smile touched Hotohori's lips as he turned his attention to the desk before him. Or, more specifically, to what was on the desk. He idly paged through a book as KC looked on, and it slowly dawned on her that he was flipping through her trigonometry textbook. She blinked, then blinked again as she belatedly realized that the entire contents of her backpack were spread in careful order across the surface of his desk. The pack itself rested on the floor beside it. Her quilted velvet purse had been folded neatly at one corner, its contents also on display. Her jaw dropped as fear slowly melted under burning indignation. If there was one thing she couldn't tolerate, it was such a blatant invasion of privacy.

   "Hey!" she protested. "That's my stuff!" She would have leaped to her feet had she been able to stand. All she could do was turn an accusing glare on the man responsible. "Who said you had any right to go looking through all my stuff, huh? That's just rude!"

   The man actually had the gall to smile at her. He seemed more amused than ever, like a parent watching the ridiculous tantrum their three-year-old was throwing over a broken toy. "This … stuff … is very interesting, KC," he replied calmly. "We have never seen the like. Perhaps you might explain to Us what some of it is?"

   She scowled, suspecting a trap as he picked up the book he'd been paging through and offered it to her. "Our advisors are convinced this odd scroll is filled with magic symbols and evil spells. The writing is unlike any we have seen before."

   "It's called a book." KC huffed a scornful laugh. Superstitious ninnies, indeed. "It's just my trigonometry textbook. You know, advanced mathematics?" She reached to accept the book and placed it in her lap. "There's nothing magical about it." She paused to consider for a moment. "Although I won't argue the 'evil' part. Hate Trig."

   He nodded, still smiling, and picked up one of her English textbooks.

   "Grammatical primer," she explained. "The basic foundation of the English language. Again, very non-magical." She pointed to a third textbook. "World History, the class that got me into this whole mess in the first place."

   Hotohori put the book down and picked up her digital camera instead; last year's Christmas present from her mom. "And this odd device?"

   "It's a camera. You take pictures with it."

   "Pictures?" he asked, puzzled.

   "Yeah, like this." She plucked the camera from his hand, turned it on and aimed it at him. "Smile!" When she pressed the shutter, the flash went off with a click and a whir, eliciting a startled gasp from her subject. He immediately leaned back in his chair and she thought he reached under his desk, possibly to go for a concealed weapon. "Relax! I didn't steal your soul or anything!" she hastily assured him. "It's just an image!" She turned the camera around to show him the viewer. The image of himself gazed back with an extremely surprised expression on his beautiful face.

   Hotohori's lips parted in astonishment. "Th-that is me!" he gasped. "It is a mirror reflection … or a portrait."

   "Um, yeah. An instant portrait," she agreed, examining the picture. "You know, aside from that freaked-out expression on your face, you're actually pretty photogenic." She smiled faintly as she glanced up at him. "Can I have this back now? It was really kind of expensive, and Mom'll have my gizzard for garters if it breaks."

   His brow furrowed at her words, but he nodded and she picked up her purse and began to shove its contents inside. Noting his obvious curiosity, she tried to explain each object she picked up. "This is my wallet. No magic there." She checked its contents and wrinkled her nose. "Or actual money, for that matter." Guess she'd've had to wait for her holiday coffee drink, after all.

   An ink block and bamboo ink brush sat to one side of the desk, next to a neat pile of scrolls. KC recognized them because Kimiko's father was big into the art of Japanese calligraphy, and had once tried to teach the three girls using the traditional tools. It had been a dismal failure, of course. None of them possessed the patience required to achieve the delicate lines and strokes. And when Brady ended up spilling half the ink on the hardwood floor, they'd all agreed never to attempt calligraphy again, on pain of committing seppuku under Mr. Yura's watchful eye.

   Really. The permanent ink stain on the floor wasn't that big. A large throw rug covered it nicely.

   KC's lips curled into a small smile at the memory. She picked up the next object and let Hotohori take a good look. "This is called a ballpoint pen. It's a writing instrument. It uses ink but writes much more smoothly than a brush, and it won't stain up your fingers. Unless you break it, of course." She demonstrated on a scrap of notebook paper by writing out his name in English letters, as close as she could spell it, anyway.

   "Fascinating," he breathed. He accepted the pen and sketched out a few foreign characters of his own. "What a wonderful implement!"

   KC couldn't help being charmed by his delight with such a simple thing as a Bic pen. He was like a little kid on Christmas morning, finding a puppy under the tree or something. "You can have it if you want it," she told him, feeling generous. "I've got more and pens are a dime a dozen where I come from."

   "I thank you for your gift." His reply was strangely formal as he bowed his head and placed the pen reverently next to the ink block.

   At least, she noted, he'd stopped talking about himself in the plural. That was encouraging, right? For the first time, she realized she might be looking at a chance to bribe her way out of this situation. Maybe if she offered him enough incentive, he'd be willing to overlook that little accident in the street and let her go, maybe even help her find her way home again. As an emperor, he probably had everything his heart desired. Luckily, she seemed to possess things that nobody in this country had ever seen before. She still wasn't sure where she was, but she was pretty certain it was no longer her own, modern world. Maybe—and this made more and more sense the longer she thought about it—she had actually been pulled inside the book, into whatever world existed there. Maybe it wasn't just some kind of a portal that sucked her in one end and shot her out the other. Maybe it was actually a whole other alternate dimension.

   If only she'd paid more attention to Star Trek while growing up. She remembered that they'd always talked about things like space-time continuum and worm holes. Boring as it sounded, that sort of sci-fi mumbo-jumbo would have really come in handy right now.

   She sighed and examined the book in her lap, relieved to note that the water hadn't done too much damage to its pages. All of her textbooks seemed fine enough, except for her art sketchbook, which hadn't been so lucky. It must have been on the bottom of the pile and had absorbed the most water. She scowled as she peeled the wet pages apart, examining her ruined sketches with dismay. When she reached the last page, she complained, "Aw, man. I liked this one. It was my best yet." The sketch depicted an old man bending over a stone table, concentrating on a checkers board. A little girl sat across from him, stretched to reach the pieces on the board. KC had used all of her concentration and skill to capture the scene precisely and was proud of how it had turned out. She'd been planning to turn it in for some extra credit. Maybe it would've even been put on display in the student gallery in the lobby. No chance of that happening now, though. She sighed in disappointment and set the sketchbook aside to let it air.

   "May I ask you a question?"

   "Okay, shoot."

   He blinked at her.

   "Ask away," she amended. Guess I'm gonna have to think about how I word stuff around here…

   "These things… Why do you carry them? What is their purpose?" He touched the English book.

   Her brow furrowed. "Well, they're my school books. I have to carry them with me so I can study from them."

   "You attend school?" He seemed surprised.

   She pursed her lips. "Oh, I see. Women don't attend school in this world, right? Or maybe education is reserved only for upper-class society." She shrugged. "In my world, or at least in my country, it's a requirement for everyone to be given a proper education."

   "What do you mean by 'this world' and 'my world'?" he asked abruptly. His gaze fixed intently on her face, eyes sharp with sudden interest.

   She hesitated. "Um…"

   "Do you mean to tell me that you've come here from a different world?" he pressed.

   "Well…"

   "How did you come to be here?"

   "I don't know!"

   At his startled look, she fidgeted in her seat, glanced around as if seeking an escape. "Look, I don't know where I am or how I got here, okay?" she reluctantly admitted. "All I tried to do was find information for a stupid homework assignment, and I found this little red book with Chinese letters. I figured maybe it'd help me out, so I opened it and this bright red light shot out. Next thing I know, I'm getting sucked into the damned thing and pooped out the other side." She shivered and hugged herself violently. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm just a little freaked out about that. Where I come from, books usually don't make a habit out of eating people."

   Hotohori didn't appear to be listening. Rather, he rose from his seat as his face took on a delighted smile, circled around to kneel beside KC and laid his lean, elegant hands on her shoulders. "So, you're truly from another world!" His face lit with that excited-little-kid expression again. "This is wonderful! I knew I was right about you!" In his excitement, he squeezed her shoulders and moved even closer.

   Embarrassed, KC let her gaze shift from her hands in her lap, to his silvery topknot, to his broad shoulders … anywhere but his eyes. She practically burrowed into the back of her chair to gain some space, but the man clearly had no sense of personal boundaries. If he moved any closer, they'd be locking lips. "Y-you were right about what?" she squeaked, as she tried to rid her mind of some very inappropriate ideas.

   "KC, have you ever heard of The Universe of the Four Gods?"

   "Erm … no?"

   His smile gentled as he explained, "It tells the legend of a girl who would come from another world to save Konan during a time of extreme crisis. By summoning forth the holy protector Suzaku, the beast deity of the Southern realm, she shall harness his divine power by becoming his Priestess and therefore shall save Konan from harm and bring peace to the land."

   KC blinked. "That's a very nice fairytale. What's it got to do with me?"

   "Not a fairytale," he replied. "A prophecy. One which is about to come to pass."

   She felt her stomach lurch like she'd just taken the plunge from the largest hill on a roller coaster … magnified about a hundred times.

   "For several months now, rumors have spread of troops amassing in force along Konan's eastern borders. It is believed that Kutou prepares to wage a war on this country," he explained.

   "Okay, wait," KC commanded, cutting him off. "Would you please tell me who this Kutou person is? I've been accused of being a spy for him, but I've never even heard of this guy before."

   Hotohori smiled grimly. "Please forgive my oversight. Kutou is not a person but a place. Our neighboring country to the east, to be precise. Unlike Konan, which is a peaceful empire, Kutou is warlike and constantly seeks to overthrow its neighboring countries. Its army is powerful and ruthless, much more powerful than Konan is able to withstand. With mercenary troops brought in from outside sources, I fear that should the rumors prove true and Kutou attacks us, we will be unable to defend ourselves and will be overtaken." He removed his hands from her shoulders and rose to his feet, turned to his desk and picked up an ancient-looking scroll.

   "This is The Universe of the Four Gods," he explained as he presented it to her.

   She accepted it and immediately realized it was written in Chinese. Of course, it is. The parchment felt almost leathery in her hands, its once-brilliant crimson faded with age. "I can't read this," she informed him. "I don't know how we can understand each other when we talk, but when it comes to reading, it's all gibberish." She idly turned the scroll over in her hands, found the wax signet that sealed it shut. An elaborate design had been stamped into the wax. She examined it more closely. It looked like some kind of a bird. Like a peacock. Her eyes flew wide as she yelped and flung the scroll at Hotohori. "Keep that thing away from me!"

   He looked completely flabbergasted at her sudden fright. "What in the world is the matter?" he asked, concerned. "Are you ill?"

   "I'm fine," she snapped. "But I've seen that bird before! The stupid book that sucked me in here had the exact same image on its cover!"

   Hotohori's expression once again took on the glow of eager excitement. He dropped to his knees before her, took her cold hands into his and gripped them tightly. She stared at their joined hands with no small amount of surprise and weakly attempted to tug them from his grasp. "The red light," he breathed, unaware of her sudden discomfort. "It could only have been Suzaku's divine light." KC sucked in a startled breath when he raised her fingers to his lips and pressed a reverent kiss to them. "There is no longer any doubt in my mind, KC." He gazed at her through lidded eyes, expression reverent. "You are the one I have waited for. The Girl of Legend. Please, We would ask you, as Emperor… Will you become the Priestess of Suzaku, and keep Our country from Kutou's greedy hands?"