5 Years in Reflection

His hand rested on his chest, his slender fingers parted gracefully over a hideous scar that lay centred on his chest. He sighed, gazing at himself in the mirror. He wore beige britches, his upper body devoid of any type of garment. His light, gentle violet eyes landed on the scar that his fingered delicately caressed. It still remained, even though a good friend of his had healed the wound.

Well, he noted, it was there as a reminder of his foolish mistake to try and take on an enemy twice his size without proper backup. Just as his friend, a monk and now-advisor to the imperial family of Konan, had a nasty scar over his eyes, blinding him in one eye, Nuriko, or rather, Chou Ryuuen, had his over his chest. Though he didn't have it as a reminder that he caused the death of his best friend, he still kept it for similar reasons that his friend did.

Sighing as he reached for his under shirt, a simple pure snow white cotton shirt, Nuriko gazed sadly into the mirror, thinking of his dear friend Houki, who was the now-widow of the late emperor Hotohori, or more accurately, Saihitei Seishuku. The dowager empress had been widowed for nearly five years now and with a young son, Boushin, who was nearing his fifth birthday.

Closing his eyes as he pulled his shirt on, Ryuuen's mind raced through the five years that had passed him by. He could remember those very years very vividly. They transformed him the most, well that first year at least when he had met the girl of the legend, Suzaku no Miko, Yuuki Miaka, a bright-eyed chipper school girl who found fault in no one and was always cheerful and ready to help a friend in need.

The bright-eyed girl had lured him from his stupefied stubbornness that drove him to madly cling to the memory of his sister by shunning his own identity. He smiled serenely as he remembered the first time Miaka had found out, that he, Ryuuen, who had been calling himself Kourin was a man and not a woman.

'She hadn't rejected me, she just looked quite stunned.' Ryuuen chuckled to himself, as he recalled Miaka's expression as she came face to face with a flat chest after parting the elegant court garments that Ryuuen had adorned.

He recalled how unbiased she had been, her free-spirit as she befriended all of her Seishi, treating them all with equal respect as if they were more than friends, and expected only friendship in return. Even when he had treated her like a common cold, she had been resistant to his coldness and treated him equally.

He closed his eyes, an image of Miaka dancing before them. He started to wonder how she was fairing back in her world with Sukanami Taka, Tamahome's reincarnation. Ryuuen knew they were in love, but he hadn't spoken to them in two years, so he didn't know how they really were.

He only had two of his friends still with him, Chichiri, who asked to be addressed as Houjun when in court and the ever-incorrigible Tasuki, also known as Shun'u, who was still the fearless leader of the Mount Reikaku bandits.

The others, except Tamahome, had been killed in battle during the turbulent war with Kutou and the malicious Seiryuu Seishi under the fist of one nasty world hating Shogun, Seiryuu Seishi, Nakago.

That man had incited all the hatred between the two groups, and only for his own ends. Ryuuen seethed hatefully at that thought. He hadn't minded Amiboshi, even though the boy had impersonated Chiriko and destroyed their chances at summoning Suzaku the first time around. The boy had only been following orders.

Ryuuen had developed great contempt for Amiboshi's younger, impulsive and irrational twin, Suboshi from the start. He only felt himself soften towards the boy after speaking to Amiboshi, and discovering that the younger of the twins had been one of Nakago's many pawns in the war between the Suzaku and Seiryuu Seishi.

He hadn't really processed anything of an opinion on Soi, but did admire the woman for her devotion, even if it was to a man like Nakago. Even Ryuuen would have never thought of throwing himself in the way of danger to protect those he loved.

Ashitare… Ryuuen cringed at the thought of the beast, whose long claws had impaled Ryuuen through the chest, nearly causing his death on Mount Black in the midst of the race to retrieve the first of the two Shinzahou. If it hadn't been for fast reaction by his Miko, Tamahome and others, Ryuuen knew he would have died on that lonely mountain top and wouldn't have lived to see Suzaku descend from the sky.

His thoughts were broken by the soft young tenor voice of Boushin, who was looking more and more like the late Saihitei Seishuku everyday. Ryuuen turned to face the young boy, who was slowly being broken into rule the country from his father's throne, with his mother, Houki, by his side offering him guidance.

"Ryuuen-san! C'mon, hurry up! I want to start my lessons…you promised you'd only be five minutes when I asked you at breakfast!" Boushin said, as he entered the room, staring up at the taller man.

Gazing down at his late friend's eager son, Ryuuen knelt, placing a hand on Boushin's head. "Gomen nasai, Boushin-sama. I must have got distracted when I thought of the past." He offered a gentle smile, the mole highlighted as his facial features shifted with the motion.

"Daijoubu-ka, Ryuuen-san." Boushin nodded and added, "I'll see you on the court! Bring your sword! I want to practice that today and not grappling!" He explained, as he turned and ran from the room, waving.

Ryuuen grinned slyly. He had to admit, he was amazed that the boy never tripped over the long garments that he wore. Turning his thoughts from the younger emperor, Ryuuen turned to the mirror and sighed. It wasn't morose, it was pacific.

He touched a hand to the scar again before he reached to pick up the white shirt he wore with the pants. Putting it on, he secured it before taking the elegant burgundy tunic and fastening it on with a black silk sash. The tunic was plain, but woven with the finest material. Only at the collar, hem and cuff of the sleeves were there any patterns. The pattern, or rather the fabric was a brilliant red with a subtly yet intricate pattern sown on.

Running his fingers through his short hair, Ryuuen shook out his violet hair before taking a black ribbon and tying back the short length he had grown at the back in a smart pony-tail. The ribbon fell part way down his neck.

Closing the door to his quarters, he moved silently through the corridor, coming on Houjun, who sat at the end, on the railing, looking out into the distance, as the morning sun rose further up in the sky, all traces of the early dawn fading into the late morning's mono-coloured robin-egg blue sky.

"Ohayo!" Ryuuen called in a friendly manner as he approached his long-time friend from behind.

Turning, Houjun smiled. He no longer wore his mask. He didn't feel the need to hide any more. He had learnt from Ryuuen when the man had stopped hiding in his own past. The scar over Houjun's eye was noticeable in the reflecting light of the late morning.

"Ryuuen." He nodded. He turned back to the sky.

Leaning on the railing, Ryuuen gazed in the same direction. "Lost in thought, ne? Thinking about the past again." He grinned gently, and shut his eyes. "I also do as well…"

Houjun gazed down. "About the mistakes?" He asked sombrely.

Ryuuen chuckled. "No, about our friends and all the good times we had… And of Miaka. I often wonder how she's doing and if she and Taka are okay."

Sighing morosely, Houjun queried, "but not all those times were good, no da. There were many times when they were painful. Do those ever cross your mind?"

"Hai." Ryuuen gave an affirmative nod. "But I don't try and think about them. I learnt from when I lamented the loss of Kourin-chan. Sometimes it's better just not to think about the sad parts of life. If you do, you just get caught in the past and it traps you."

"Ryuuen-san" Boushin called, as he walked over, holding two swords. "You said you would! You're taking too long now!" He thrust one of the two swords over to the former Suzaku Seishi Nuriko.

Laughing heartily, Ryuuen accepted it and bowed. "Doumo arigatou, Boushin-sama." He gazed at the boy. "And I'm coming right now; I just stopped to talk to a friend."

"Sugoi!" Boushin grabbed Ryuuen by the wrist and pulled him off to the courtyard where they did their practice, or more accurately, where Ryuuen gave his instruction on physical combat and sword fighting.

Seeing the courtyard generated illusions of the past. Even in the nice weather, Ryuuen could still see Tamahome, under the influence of kodoku standing before the group demanding to know where Suzaku no Miko was. His expression had been cold and unfeeling. From the hill at the opposite end of the court, Hotohori, with incredible focus had appeared, wielding his own sword and carried a second one, which he would throw down to Tamahome, demanding that the man pick it up and fight him.

He could see the rain falling, the grey sky above, and feeling the sweat and toil as the two former friends battled it out to the death, Tamahome losing to Hotohori, whose chi was intense.

The boy, who would later be found out to not be Chiriko, had exclaimed that the fight must be stopped because one would surely get hurt, to which Ryuuen, who had been commonly known as Nuriko then, explained that Hotorhori's chi was too focused and that there was no way to interrupt the fight…

He blinked, seeing his friend fall, hearing the shrill voice of Miaka and witnessing the stunned look at the face of the emperor as blood dripped from the rain drenched blade of his sword, which had impaled the fallen Seishi. He hear the resonating clang as the blade hit the cobblestone as the emperor had been far too shocked to keep a strong grip.

MIAKA! Look out!

Ryuuen could hear himself cry out the name of Suzaku no Miko, as she tried to get Tamahome to remember her, but put her life at risk. The sword that the intoxicated Seishi wielded was positioned dangerously over Miaka's back, threatening to impale her…

"MIAKA! Look out!" Ryuuen called out, but didn't know he had.

Hotohori had told them all to not do anything and had stopped Nuriko from intervening…

"Ryuuen-san?" Boushin tugged on the sleeve of his sensei. "Are you ok? Ryuuen-san!"

The former Suzaku Seishi Nuriko shook his head, shattering the moment of delusion. "Yes, I'm fine, you don't have to worry." He knew he was lying, but he wasn't ready to tell the young emperor yet the truth of what happened during the time of Suzaku no Miko and her Seishi. Instead, he hefted the sword.

"Ready?"

"Hai!"

They touched the blade of their swords before they went through the motions of blocking, perry and thrust in slow time. It picked up pace.

Ryuuen smiled, Boushin was getting better. He knew the boy had his father's spirit in him.

It was evident in the young man's expression as he cried out, moving with the grace and swiftness that only Hotohori had. Despite that the boy wasn't a Seishi, he still seemed to generate the same aura that his father had when in a sword fight…even if just practice…

Just practice and lessons, that's all this was, wasn't it?

Or maybe not.

Boushin was a spirited boy who could lose his grip on reality and pour his soul into what he was doing, even if it was just learning.

Ryuuen gasped.

His hand gripped the sword loosened and the blade fell from his grip, the metal hitting the cobblestone ground, clanking. His other hand flew to his chest to cover up the open and profusely bleeding wound. His hand did nothing, as blood seeped through.

"Ryuuen-san!!" Boushin cried out, tears stinging his eyes, as he threw aside his own sword and ran for his friend, placing an arm around him. "Gomen nasai!"

The Seishi smiled serenely. "No, its ok, I'm fine…" Of course, this was said through anguishing and searing pain. This brought back memories… Painful ones.

"Ryuuen!!" Boushin gasped between sobs. "You're not fine!! You need a doctor! I'm sorry! So sorry, this is my fault!!"

He closed his eyes. "I'll be fine, honestly, I will, Boushin-sama..." He just needed five minutes to wait for the pain to pass…

END (?)