Five

KC was almost certain she'd heard wrong. She stared at Hotohori for a long, silent moment, until her brain finally caught up with his words; she immediately began shaking her head, attempting to withdraw her hands from his firm grip. “Wait a min—You think I’m this … this Girl of Legend?” she sputtered. “No, no. Look, you've definitely got the wrong person here. I’m no priestess! I … I was just supposed to do research for a homework assignment! It was a total accident I stumbled across that book. A-and it's not like I can actually stay here or anything.”

He studied her silently for a moment. “And so, you do not wish to possess the power of Suzaku? Do you understand that with this power, you would have anything your heart ever desired?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “And what does 'anything' mean?”

He smiled, squeezing her hands. “I mean only that you would have the power to rule the world, if you so wished.”

“So, what, he grants wishes?”

“Yes. Any wish your heart desires.”

“Well, I don't wish to rule the world, that's for sure. I hate politics.”

His lips quirked. “Then what do you wish for?”

“To go home, for starters. If I wished for that, then he’d take me there?”

“No doubt.” His tone was dry, his expression amused at the sudden hope in her voice. “Although, I would ask that you put Konan’s safety above everything else. After that, you are free to ask for whatever else you wish.”

“Right, right. So, how long would this take? A day? Two maybe?”

He looked decidedly uncomfortable. “KC, it is not so simple as all that,” he explained carefully. “There is much involved in becoming the Priestess and summoning Suzaku. A mere few days would not be adequate to complete such a mission.”

“So then what would be?”

“A … few weeks, perhaps. Maybe even months. There are—”

“Months!” she screeched. “I can't stay here for months! Nobody knows where I am! They'll think I was kidnapped or murdered or something!” She jammed her fingers into her hair. “Isn't there some other way for me to get home? Wait, how about the scroll? If you opened it and aimed it at me, wouldn't it do the same thing as the book? Suck me into it and drop me off into my own world?”

He frowned slightly. “The scroll is only a retelling of the Legend, with instructions on what must be done when the Priestess is found. The copy in your world—indeed, if it is the very same—most likely has the sole purpose of bringing the Priestess to this one. It seems unlikely that you could so easily be returned before you've succeeded in fulfilling your duties.”

“Then … then some other way. Magic is real here, right? Can't you find some wizard or magician or something to voodoo me back home again?”

“KC, there is no other way.”

“There has to be! How am I expected to act as a priestess? I've never even heard of Suzaku before. Isn't that, like, sacrilegious or something?”

“The Priestess has always been chosen and brought from the other world. I do not pretend to understand the reason for this.”

“Oh, well, it seems obvious enough to me. Suzaku is probably really bored and gets his kicks by completely screwing up the lives of perfectly innocent girls who would otherwise have absolutely nothing to do with whatever problems you people are having!”

Hotohori was beginning to look a bit exasperated, but even as he opened his mouth to contradict her, he was interrupted by an explosion of sneezes and coughs that caused KC to double over where she sat. She wheezed for awhile, wiping her streaming eyes as she scrabbled around for the crumpled pack of tissues she'd stuffed into her purse. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

Hotohori looked her over, his brow knitting as he took full notice of the condition his unwilling guest was in. Her strange clothes were filthy and looked damp; her thin, lace shirt was stained badly and torn in several places. Her hair was a tangled mess, and she was pale and shivering. She looked miserable, and guilt gnawed at him for not having had the foresight to make sure she was properly taken care of before interrogating her. His excitement of the Legend finally coming to pass had, apparently, forced all thoughts of common hospitality out of his head. No wonder she was so unwilling to listen to him.

He called in a servant and spoke a few low words. The servant bowed and scurried off. He turned back to KC, sighing heavily and resting a hand on her head. “Forgive me,” he murmured, stroking his hand over her hair. “It seems my manners have forsaken me in my eagerness to learn the truth. Clearly you are in discomfort, which I have ignored so I might satisfy my own curiosity.”

She blinked up at him, as surprised by the apology as she was by the unexpected touch.

“There is a room prepared for you. I have asked for a meal to be brought to you, and clean clothes. Please, take care of yourself, eat, have some proper rest. This conversation can continue at another time.” He drew her to her feet and led her from the room, one arm draped around her shoulders as he walked beside her. His voluminous sleeve trailed down her back like a cloak, warming her comfortably. Several servants in the hallway stopped working at the sight of them, then began speaking in hushed whispers once they had passed. The emperor ignored them, but KC blushed darkly, imagining what kinds of rumors had just been started.

They traversed several hallways before Hotohori stopped before a certain door. “This is your room. My own chambers are not far away, just down the next hall. If there is something you need, or if you wish to speak to me about anything at all, please seek me out at any time.” He opened the door, revealing a spacious, beautifully furnished chamber beyond. It was easily large enough to fit an entire apartment in there; an alcove draped with gauzy red curtains revealed a large, comfortable-looking bed that KC could hardly wait to dive into.

“I-is all this … for me?” she breathed, gazing around through wide eyes.

“Indeed,” Hotohori replied, a hint of a smile creeping into his voice. “It is only suitable for one as honored as the Priestess.”

She glanced up at him, a frown pulling at her lips, but he held up his hand to ward off any oncoming arguments.

“Never mind all of that now. The room is yours to use. Do you find it to your liking?”

“Well, it sure beats the dungeon,” she murmured, stepping inside for a better look around. She didn't see his flinch, and jumped when his hand came to rest on her head again, sliding down until his fingers found the small knot at the base of her skull.

“Does it hurt much?” he asked softly. “Where you were struck?”

“Oh, uh, not so much anymore,” she stammered, shivering at the feel of his fingers running lightly over her neck through the fine hair that grew there.

He sighed. “Striking you in such a manner is unforgivable. Even if you were not … a guest, it is still unpardonable. I shall have the captain punished for it.”

“Oh, don't do that. He was a jerk but he was only doing his job, wasn't he?”

His smile was warm. “You are most gracious, Your Eminence.”

She fixed him with another suspicious stare, which he returned blithely, before bowing and stepping out of the room. “Please, rest well, and in the morning we shall continue our conversation.”

KC stepped into the room, closed the door, and leaned back against it, staring blindly off into space as she tried to make sense of her latest situation. A sudden knock on the door, right at the level of her ear, jerked her out of her reverie; she released a startled squeal and nearly jumped out of her own skin as she scrambled away from the door, which opened to reveal a servant bearing a tray laden with food and a rather startled expression. “I-is everything all right, Your Eminence?” he asked cautiously as he stepped into the room.

“Oh, no, I'm fine,” she stuttered, rubbing her head sheepishly.

“I've brought your meal, Your Eminence,” he replied, setting the tray down on a table.

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Excuse me?” He looked at her, confused.

“'Your Eminence'. Why do you keep calling me that?”

“W-well, how else shall I address you? Would you prefer to be addressed as Priestess?”

“Huh?” She blinked. “But—No, I'm not—That is, I haven't actually agreed to become this Suzaku Priestess yet.”

“She is called Priestess of Suzaku,” he replied stiffly, sounding mightily offended. “I was not aware there was a choice involved. When she arrives in this land, she is already chosen.”

“Whatever,” KC muttered, eyeballing the tray hungrily. “Can I eat now?”

He bowed and stepped back as KC plopped into the chair. She grimaced when she saw a pair of chopsticks. She wasn't very good with chopsticks. The many times she'd eaten at Chinese restaurants with her mom and friends hadn't helped her improve her skills, either, although she was sure she'd kept the waiters much entertained with her poor attempts at trying. She glanced at the man, who seemed quite content to stand there and observe.

She sighed, and dug in.

Or ... tried to, anyway. But she couldn't force herself to take the first bite. She wasn't very fond of fish, but she could tolerate it if it was cooked well. What she could not tolerate, however, was the entire fish—head, tail, and all—laid open on a bed of lettuce, its dead eyes fixed right on hers.

“Um, excuse me,” she called, feeling a bit silly as she beckoned the servant over. “Uh … I really appreciate the meal and I don't want to sound ungrateful but …” She trailed off.

“Is there a problem with your meal, Your Eminence?” The servant's tone suggested that there had better not be; KC really hoped he wasn't the kind of server who spit in people's food for revenge when they complained the soup was too cold or something.

“Well, I'm sure it tastes fine. It's just … I can't bring myself to eat something that's … that's staring at me. I feel like I'm violating it or something.”

“The fish is cooked. I assure you, it's quite dead and cannot see what you are doing to it.” The servant's voice was as dry as the Sahara.

“I know. But, do you suppose it's possible to get one without a head?” she asked timidly.

In response, he picked up a boning knife beside the plate, hauled back, and brought it down with a thwack, cleaving the head with one blow. KC's stomach turned over, and she barely managed to swallow back the dry-heave that threatened to follow. “Thank you,” she choked.

The servant grunted, swiped up the fish head and turned to stomp out of the room.

There is nothing more terrifying than waking up in the middle of the night, for some unknown reason, and find oneself lying in a strange bed in an entirely unfamiliar bedroom.

KC discovered this the hard way when she suddenly jerked awake, her heart pounding, her mind dizzy with sleep and the broken, swiftly-fading fragments of a dream. She felt as though she was suffocating; in her panicked struggle to untangle herself from the sheets twisted in a stranglehold around her legs, she managed to fall out of the bed and onto the floor with a heavy thud and a pained yelp.

“Ow,” she grunted, struggling to right herself, a rather difficult task considering her top half was sprawled on the floor and her bottom half was still wound in the silken sheets on the bed, her tangled feet stretching awkwardly into the air. “Well, that was graceful,” she grumbled, leaning on her abused elbows and glaring at the offending linens. Huffing, she let herself fall onto her back again and stared up at the shadowed ceiling. The strangeness of the room was fading now; she began to remember where she was, and she frowned. “It wasn’t a dream,” she mumbled. “I’m actually here.”

Sharp voices from outside her room alerted her that she was about to have visitors, just before the door burst open and several men rushed into the room, weapons drawn and lanterns held high. KC yelled in alarm, for a moment believing she was under attack, until she recognized the uniforms of the palace guards. “A-are you alright, Your Eminence?” one of them questioned uncertainly, staring at her long and hard in a manner that made her rather uncomfortable.

“Just fine and dandy,” she muttered. “Nothin' to worry about here. Y'all are doing a fine job of guarding. Can you maybe get back to it now?”

“What is happening? Has there been an attack?” Hotohori’s deep voice was both commanding and worried, and the guards stepped aside to allow him through into the room.

Despite her rather embarrassing situation, KC found herself gaping up at the emperor, who had knelt beside her and was examining her with a mixture of amusement and concern. His hair had been freed of its constraints and rippled down … and down … over his shoulders and back in a silken fall that reached his waist. She’d never seen hair that long on a man before, or many women, for that matter. The emperor had been beautiful before, but he was completely breathtaking now. With a little makeup and the right clothes, he'd make one hell of a gorgeous cross-dresser.

Of course, no one could mistake him for a woman in his current attire. He wore a white silk robe much like the one KC had been given to wear, which tied at his waist and gaped open to reveal a goodly expanse of his nicely-muscled, very non-feminine chest.

Managing to reassemble what was left of her wits (Stop staring at him already, you dingbat!), she forced an embarrassed little smile to her lips. “Um, there’s a perfectly logical explanation for this. Really. See, I had this dream—At least I think it was a dream—and when I woke up, the sheets were attacking my legs, and I … um … fell out of the bed,” she mumbled sheepishly. “But I’m fine! Nothing broken but my dignity.” Her gaze darted past the silent emperor to the equally silent guards, who were still openly gaping at her. “Um … why do they keep staring at me like that?” she muttered. “It’s freaking me out.”

Hotohori immediately turned and leveled a quelling glare at the soldiers. “All is well. You may return to your posts now,” he snapped.

The guards saluted and hastily filed out of the room, casting lingering glances at the priestess, who was currently being shielded by the emperor. “What was that about?” she muttered peevishly. “It’s not like I’m the only person who’s ever fallen out of a bed before. Sheesh!”

Hotohori turned to face her again, looking uncomfortable, almost embarrassed. His cheeks were faintly pink. “KC, your robe … um ...” He trailed off and gestured briefly at her neckline, carefully keeping his eyes averted.

She frowned and glanced down at herself, abruptly yelped, and grabbed the gaping edges of the robe to yank them tight across her body, her face turning six different shades of red. “Right,” she squeaked, completely mortified. “Boy am I glad I left my bra on.” She thumped her head on the floor, covering her face with her hands. “Has anybody ever heard of pajamas in this place?”

She gave another squeak when a strong, warm arm slipped under her back, another beneath her knees, and Hotohori lifted her into his embrace. She blinked at him in bewilderment, marveling at the feeling of being cradled in a man’s arms. It had been a long time since anyone had held her like that. The last person had been her father, when she'd fallen out of a tree and broken her leg, and she'd only been ten years old at the time. That was back when they had all been happy. Before her dad had decided he'd had enough of the family life.

The moment was short-lived as Hotohori gently deposited KC back onto the bed, sitting beside her and helping her untangle the stubborn sheets. She self-consciously pulled her robe further down her legs, figuring she’d given the poor guy enough of a peep show for one night. “Um, sorry for making everyone panic,” she mumbled. “I didn't mean to wake you up.”

His golden eyes glowed rich and deep in the candlelight. “There is nothing you need apologize for. I was already awake, in truth.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?” She eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure you aren’t just saying that to make me feel better? It’s still dark out!”

He smiled reassuringly. “Dawn isn’t far away. I rise at this time every morning to prepare for the day.”

“Seriously? I figured with you being the emperor and all, you’d be allowed to sleep in until noon or something.”

He laughed softly. “Unfortunately, it is because I am emperor that I have little time for rest. My days begin very early, and end very late. The country cannot run itself, after all.”

“That doesn't seem very healthy. Don’t you ever get a day off?”

He tilted his head playfully. “An odd concept, that. I’m afraid I’ve never heard of such a thing.” His eyes glinted with humor and she found herself smiling back. His expression softened as he regarded her, and he reached out to gently brush a few strands of hair from her eyes, which widened in astonishment as her face reddened. She looked decidedly nervous, and he tilted his head curiously, a small smile touching his lips. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Her blush darkened. “Well, I—It's just I’m not used to handsome guys being so … friendly with me, that’s all,” she mumbled. “And you’re … really handsome.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and shyly dropped her gaze to her lap.

Hotohori smiled, squeezing her hand. “Yes, people always say so,” he agreed. “I am very beautiful. It is hard not to notice.”

She met his gaze, surprised; she wondered if he was teasing, but he certainly looked serious enough. So he was a narcissist, huh? Well, she supposed he had to have at least one fault to balance out all that perfection. He wouldn't be human, otherwise.

“As we’re both awake now, perhaps you would like to join me in my chambers for an early breakfast?” Hotohori suggested.

At the mention of food, KC's stomach released a long, loud grumble. She hastily clapped both arms over her offending belly. “Yeah, guess I'm a bit hungry,” she muttered as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. “But, before that, would it be too much trouble to ask for … well … I really want a proper bath,” she admitted. “I’m itchy and my hair feels gross and who knows what kind of dirt I picked up in the street and that cell and—”

He held up a hand to silence her and smiled. “I’ll send a maidservant to tend you,” he replied. “I should have done so last night, but you looked exhausted, so it seemed best to let you sleep before anything else. When you've finished, she may show you to my apartments.”

“Thanks,” she replied. “Oh, and as for my clothes, I don't suppose it's possible to have them fixed, is it? My shirt is all torn up. I don't know if it can be sewn, but it cost me a lot of money so I don't want to just throw it out. Besides, I don't have any other clothes with me.”

He seemed surprised. “You shall of course be provided with clothes and anything else you need during your stay here.”

“Oh, no, you don't have to be so generous,” she protested. “I don’t want to seem like a mooch or anything.”

He seemed to find the word amusing. “A … mooch, you say?” He smiled whimsically.

“It's what you call someone who takes advantage of another person's generosity, and doesn't do anything to pay them back. I don't have any way to pay you back.”

His smile deepened. “If you insist on 'paying me back', then perhaps you might reconsider my request to become the Priestess. Becoming the savior of this land would be more than enough payment. We would be entirely in your debt.” He rose from the bed and stood gazing down at her. “I’ll send a maidservant to you shortly, and she will see to all of your needs while you are here. When you finish bathing and dressing, please join me to break fast in my chambers.” He turned to leave.

“Thank you,” she called after him, and then he was gone.