A/N: I know, it’s been too long since I’ve updated. Apologies.  Preparing again to cross the Atlantic, so I thought I’d put this up while I have time...

Usual disclaimers: I don’t own FY or anything to do with it, nor do I own the concept of toast.

CHAPTER TWO

As soon as he was gone, Yui scooted herself around so that she faced the wall, and put her head against the corner.  What do they want me for? she wondered.  She felt her eyes well up.  What have I done that they didn’t deserve?

The door scraped open, and she stiffened. Who now?   There was a soft footstep beside her, and gentle fingers caressed her shoulder.  “Would you talk with me, Lady Yui?” a high voice asked. She looked back, and her jaw dropped at what she saw.

“Who--you’re only a kid!” 

The fair-haired boy smiled politely. “I am that indeed, Lady Priestess. But I have some small learning in me, and I am chosen of Suzaku despite my youth. He sees worth in my presence, so I must only assume that there are tasks I might fulfil to please him and protect my people. I would not deny my God.”

Yui stared. The boy shrugged. “I am not what you thought I was, when first you saw me. Such is the way of life.” He flashed her that shy smile again.  “One of its best aspects, I have always thought.” There was a little knife in his hand, and Yui cringed. He stepped back. “I merely thought that perhaps those bonds are chafing you by now, milady.” he said, with no trace of accusation in his voice. “You can trust me, even if I am not of your God.” He knelt and cut the rope that bound her legs, and then the one that held her hands together.  “I trust that you will also be civilized, Lady.” he said, so offhand that it seemed as though he already knew she would.

Yui massaged complaining muscles, and rose stiffly to her feet. The boy gestured to the table and the chairs around it, and she gratefully settled into a comfortable position.

He folded his hands together and stared at her, across the heavy wooden table.  “I imagine that Tasuki-san was not entirely impressed by your rebuttals to his arguments?”

Yui shook her head. “He--I--no. He’s very angry.”

The boy’s peridot eyes leapt to hers for a moment, then fell back to his clasped hands. “He has great reason to be, lady.” he chided. “More reason than you have now, or may ever possess.  But those are not my words to speak.”  He shifted in his seat.  He’s so small! Yui realized again. His speech made her forget that he couldn’t even be twelve years old. “So--ah--well.” she began.  “Do you have a name?”

The boy chuckled. “Of course. My apologies. I am Chiriko.”

Yui’s jerked in surprise.

“Yes, Lady.” he said, in response to the question that she wouldn’t ask.  “I am that warrior. But those--are not your words to speak.” Yui felt a flash of irritation, that this child would tell her what not to do, but she suppressed it. He was the closest she’d seen to a friendly person since she arrived, and she needed to keep him that way, or she might never make it out of this place. Speaking of which...

“Where am I?” she asked.  The child smiled and shook his head. “Why is it that people who see me, even those who I have spoken with on multiple occasions, assume me to be so naïve?  If I told you where we were, you might have plans of escape, Priestess. Any attempt to do so would result in disaster--the guard here is very strict, and not, I am afraid, very cultured.”  He reached across the table and touched her hand.  “But no harm will come to you within these walls.” he said, as if the reassurances of a little kid would help. Yui couldn’t resist snorting.

“See? You are so very bound by your eyes.” The child continued.  “Perhaps it would help if I tied you up again.” Yui found herself staring again, and was frightened by what she saw--while there was compassion in the child’s eyes, there was also determination. He could tie me back up, couldn’t he?  He smiled as the realization showed on her face.  “But I am taking your time, Lady. I have come merely to have words with you.”

“What do you want?”

No flicker of irritation passed over his face. As he had been since he arrived, he was calm, and courteous.  “I? I would like our countries to be at peace. I would like to work with the leaders of your country to feed your people, and stabilize the economy--I have several possible solutions to your current flooding problems, as well, which would provide another thousand arable acres for the next harvest, as well as lowering the incidences of plague and insect-borne disease.  There is a new strain of rice here that is hardier than the uplands kind that your country grows, and which produces larger grains, which could easily bring starvation almost to nothing in Kutou.  I would like to wander through your libraries and learn what new things I might to bring back home for the benefit of my own people, while allowing your scholars to roam through our libraries--shared knowledge is worth much more than knowledge kept secret.  But I am not here to discuss what I want. I am here to talk with you about what you need.”

Yui didn’t believe the frankness of his words.  “What I need? I need you to let me go!”

“No. You want me to let you go.”

“Oh? And how do you know what I need?”

He smiled broadly, and the sight of his amusement chilled the Priestess. “Lady, you would not be here if not for me! ”  His eyes sparkled.  “You are so taken in by what you see, instead of what you would know if you thought for just a moment.  I would imagine that you have not had a single moment of true introspection since you arrived in our world. That is why I have come to you, even knowing that all you would see is my youth.” He grasped her hand tightly, though not so tight that it hurt, and Yui resisted the urge to pull away at the pleading in his eyes.  “You are destroying yourself, Lady. Speak truthfully, now--when is the last time that you were happy?”

“I--”

“Hush. Give yourself a moment to think before you answer. I am as patient as you could conceivably need.”  He watched her expectantly, and Yui slipped her hand from his. “The last time I was happy.” she said. “The last time I was actually happy was before I came here. When I went to the bookstore with Miaka, and everything was all right.”  She stared at a fixed point on the table, a circular stain that hinted that heavy drinking was done in this room on occasion. Chiriko said nothing, only watched her for a long moment. She glanced at him, then continued to stare at the table as she spoke.  “When Miaka was saying that maybe she’d rather go to school with me--but she didn’t know how to tell her mother.”

“She loves you, you know.” Chiriko said.

Yui’s fingernails dug into the rough-hewn table. “Everyone keeps telling me that.”

“We don’t lie. She lies awake at night thinking of ways to convince you that she is still your friend.”

“She betrayed me!” Yui’s voice was as harsh as that of a crow.

“Did she?”

Yui said nothing, and Chiriko tilted his head.  “Let’s go back to the main question here. What do you think you need?”

Yui’s eyes burned.  “I don’t know what I need.” she whispered.  “I can’t go home. Not when I’m--like this.” Her voice fell to silence, and the last three words were only motions of her lips.  Chiriko rose and pushed back his chair. “I doubt that I am going to be of further assistance at this point, Lady. At least you are thinking now.  One of the others will bring you some food soon.” He bowed low to her, his topknot bobbing.  “Perhaps soon you will be able to understand.”

He closed the door quietly behind him, and Yui sat with her hands folded on the table, as still as a Palace figurine.  Nakago had once showed her the little altar figures meant to represent her, which people in Kutou had been using for generations now--she was nearly a household goddess to them.  Nakago had thought it amusing, the amount of power and respect that she already held among the peasantry, but Yui had found it shaming.  If they knew! If they knew what she really was.  A ten-year-old here could better protect herself than Yui.  A five-year-old would make a better god.

One thumb absentmindly rubbed at the thick cord of scar tissue across her wrist.

If any of them knew how weak she was...what she had allowed to happen to her...Yui felt hot tears on her cheeks, and she wiped them off with shaking hands.  This is stupid. she thought.  I don’t know what they’re hoping to do to me, but it isn’t going to work.  She rose to her feet, kicked back the chair, and walked to the window, the shutters of which were open to the breeze.  That silly kid left me here all alone, with no one to keep me in.   A vicious little smile flitted across her face.  Not for long--she drew up short at what she saw.

Her window was higher than she had thought.  It was an easy thirty feet to the unpaved courtyard below her, and after that, it was an obstacle course.  To her right was a salle, filled with young men practicing cuts and blocks with various edged weapons. To her left was an archery range, with two men laughing and daring eachother on to less and less likely feats: as she watched, the first began to blindfold the second.  Beyond that was a low stone wall. And beyond that, evidently, a mountain path, leading downward into a valley that she could not see.  Yui had no idea where she was, and she regretted not paying more attention to the scholars that had attempted to teach her geography, her first few weeks in the Palace.  Where were there mountains in Kounan, and what had Nakago mentioned about them, smiling cruelly?  She couldn’t remember. Something, something...something about bandits?  Yui shrugged. It wouldn’t help her now.

She had attracted attention as she leaned over the wide stone sill, and there came a shout from below her.  “Halt!” a man cried, his dark hair damp with sweat, and sticking to the band he’d tied around his head to keep it back.  The men paused in their exertions, coming to rest but still balanced just so on their feet, holding weapons thus, with an unnoticed ease that told of long practice. These men, all of them, were warriors. Yui shivered.

The dark haired man bowed to her from his place below her window.  The others watched her warily, though none shouted out the catcalls or made the gestures that she had expected from them.  “Priestess, good afternoon!” the dark-haired man called.  “We trust that you slept well enough.”  there was no laughter from the men; they watched her like they would a mountain lion, if they were unsure whether or not it had cubs.  They fear me?  Or is it something other than fear?  She was unused to respect that did not have an edge to it, and so did not recognize it.  The dark-haired man bowed to her again, and turned away. The men took this as leave to do the same, and they took up defensive positions again as if there had been no interruption.  Not one of them took so much as a glance at her again.