A/N Again, thank you so much to all my reviewers. You guys make me alternately laugh and go teary-eyed and it's wonderful. Thank you. I really want to keep the characters as they are in the canon, so any advice is really treasured, honestly.

I've had some questions about the novels, so in case you didn't know - yes, the series does go on past the anime. Most of the books aren't translated from the Japanese yet, but there are free fan translations. The one that this story references often is The Shore in Twilight, which continues the Youko and Taiki arcs. Eugene Woodbury had earnt my eternal gratitude by translating it for free on his site, so go google him. Go do it now. The story will make so much more sense and you'll meet Mr and Mrs Fabulous for the first time. I fell off my chair with laughter when I got to that part. :D

I have to say, I'm delighted that we've gotten past all the fluff! We're getting into the meaty part now. Welcome to the story proper! Sorry it's taking so long, but this story requires rather a lot of research to pull off. XD

Chapter Eight

Shades of Grey

Something cool dabbed at her face. Instinctively knowing that it was too early for her liking, Youko groaned and tried to turn away. The enchanted sleep lay heavily on her, not unpleasant, but hard to shake off.

"Wake up," commanded a voice she didn't expect to hear. "There's going to be a meeting, and my princess and I have to leave soon."

"Han….Ou? What are you doing in my bedroom?"

He raised one exquisitely arched eyebrow. "As if you'd have listened to a servant. Besides, I was feeling left out."

"I'm really not in the mood. Kindly remove yourself from my chambers."

"I could send Shouryuu to drag you out of bed instead."

She winced. "No thanks."

She raised herself up onto her elbows, shaking slightly. She had a headache, and her face felt gritty and sore, her insides strangely empty. Han-Ou made a fussing sound and slid an extra cushion behind her back.

"Look up," he said sternly. She blinked at him and something that stung fell into her eye.

"Oww! Ow – what was –oww!" She flinched back, hands crossed defensively in front of her face, as something dropped into the other eye as well.

"Typical blockhead warrior. Never taking care of yourself. I – don't rub your eyes – I was sent these by the Emperor of Ren. Made from his own medicinal herb gardens. Very nice fellow, though his idea of ornamentation seems to consist of grass stains and mud… there, your eyes look brighter already."

She curled her fists into her blankets, trying to resist the impulse to claw at her watering eyes. Though the pain was now fading, her itchy eyes feeling cooler and less sore.

As he corked the blue glass bottle, she remembered his earlier words.

"Wait, you're leaving? Now?" Real disappointment crept into her tone. One either loved or hated the Emperor of Han, but there was no denying that he and his kirin always livened things up a bit.

"Soon. I do have a kingdom of my own to take care of. Not all of us can loaf around all the time like one Emperor I could mention. Besides," he continued in a tone of the greatest solemnity, "without me they all might start wearing beige."

She managed a weak smile for the sake of friendship.

"I'll be sad to see you go. But what's this meeting about?" She trailed off as he started patting her face dry with a cloth. From the look of it, he'd been daubing her face with some sort of cleanser whilst she slept.

"You'll see. You look absolutely awful," he sighed. "All ashen and wasted."

"Thanks ever so."

"I believe there's nothing more I can do for you. We'll have to dress you in something that will put some colour back into-"

"Out" she said firmly.

"Please tell me you have something in caramel or burnt orange. But, well, in an Imperial suite this tasteless…"

"Sir, please stop casting aspersions on my palace décor and just go."

She sat up and something slithered to the floor. She glanced down and saw a pile of vividly coloured silks by her feet.

"What the-"

Han-Ou bent down and retrieved a midnight-blue bolt, holding it up to her face when he thought she wasn't looking.

"Nothing," he said calmly.

"Is that a tape measure?"

He gave a courteous bow, snatching up the rest of the silk and sweeping out of the room, passing a surprised Gyoukuyou bearing a bowl of rice gruel.

Youko smiled crookedly.

"Silly old man," she said softly. "Trying to take my mind off things."

"Your Majesty?"

"Call me Youko, Gyoukuyou. I've told you so many times."

The woman smiled in relief, setting the bowl on the table in the centre of the room.

Youko frowned in confusion as she picked up the last piece of cloth lying on the bed, sober black. It looked awfully like one of her kirin's over-robes. Perhaps he had left it there last night.

"This isn't mine, is it?"

"I believe it is the Taiho's. I've prepared a bath for you, Lady Youko. You'll feel better about meeting with all those guests once you're clean."

Keiki desperately needed some time to think, and so he took the long way through the palace grounds.

The Imperial Gardens had been built to exact specifications long ago, to be a retreat for the ruling monarch. How many dynasties had risen and fallen alongside those twisting walkways, none could say. The gardens had remained virtually unchanged for millennia, but for the replacement of dead plants and sowing of new flowers – but these are like changing a broken clasp on an antique necklace. The overall object retains its history.

Well.

She had changed things a bit - but then, what area of palace life had escaped unscathed the touch of the Empress Sekishi and her grand ideas? On his left were the bamboo groves, leading into the winter garden. Bamboo was a staple in any Imperial garden, symbolising strength and resilience. As here, it was often seen with pine trees, the older the better, a token of longevity. Both neatly summed up the ideal of a monarch. Perhaps that was meant as a little hint.

The gardeners had been in uproar for a while after she'd asked them to plant groves of plum trees in that garden - imagine changing this ancient treasure! She'd mentioned some Kan idea called the 'three friends of winter' that nobody understood. Any protests of Keiki's own had fallen when she'd taken him to see the result of her artistry last winter.

The plum trees were blossoming. Snow crunched underfoot and dusted them lightly from above, and all was hushed. He had found himself marvelling how slowly blossoms float down from their heavily laden branches, and how similar to falling snow they seemed, until distinguished by the latter melting in red hair.

All was forgiven. Although she'd taken to muttering about "cherry blossoms like the ones in Tokyo", whatever that meant.

The original proliferation of paths and elegantly roofed walkways, the curving bridges, sudden pagodas and tumbling streams had been made with one very clear purpose in mind – to grant the Emperor or Empress relief from their oppressive life and bring them back to nature, to the land itself which they had been given to govern. The nature of the gardens forced the walker to stay in the moment as they navigated its lanes and grottoes. Even if the viewer was distracted or worried, the sudden changes in scenery and gorgeous vistas would shock them into thinking about nothing but the garden. Thus peace and relief from the mundane world were thrust upon the viewer whether they liked it or not.

Well. That was the plan, at least.

His master had taken to using the gardens as her very own pacing circuit. Firstly, he presumed, because the paths were so extensive and quiet, but also because they were too narrow to admit more than one person abreast, and so labyrinthine that nobody but him could ever find her once she'd disappeared into them. He'd lost count of the times he'd been sent on search-and-recover missions by the Chousai or the Taishi, only to find her daydreaming in a small, basket-like pavilion perched by the side of a waterfall, having completely lost track of the time.

He glanced down at the path, geometric patterns in light and dark limestone pebbles. She paced them so often, they'd be worn down to bowl-like hollows within a century.

The weather was back to being sticky, sickly humid – so cloying that in felt like breathing in hot rice porridge. Surely it must break within an hour or two. The sky was woollen and heavy with moisture. He'd organised the meeting in her summer office, in the hopes that snatched breezes might keep tempers cool.

They'd unearthed the summer office about a year ago. She'd been so delighted when they stumbled across th deserted resthouse on an old map of the grounds, he'd suffered to be dragged on the expedition to hunt it down. After one feeble mention that an office in the gardens somewhat defeated the purpose of the entire park, he'd had it dusted down and filled with the appropriate furniture as a kind of gift to her for all her hard work

The view through the moongate showed a leafy courtyard pillared in banyans garlanded with vines, and bordered in neat thickets of tall bamboo. Outside it, a flowering species of holly tree added a splash of yellow flowers beside the winged roof sweeping heavenwards. He slipped into the courtyard, nodded at the guards, and entered the gate to the left, into the Empress's office.

It only had three real walls. The first was split by the two massive wooden doors he'd entered by, usually kept open unless her security was called into question. The office itself could be called another courtyard, the central space tiled in dark limestone and filled with lotus pools to offer an illusion of coolness. The purple-blue flowers had light dancing over their petals, reflections from the water. Red dragonflies drifted from flower to flower.

The roof overhung the far wall, creating the actual office space. It curved dramatically at the corners, tiled in indigo except for under the eaves, where it was dark red. Round scarlet lanterns bobbed from the edge.

Kei-Ou looked up from her ornately carved desk as he entered. She was in the honour position directly opposite the gate, allowing her the safety of clearly seeing whoever was coming before they actually entered her office. She nodded to him, looking small and tired. She wore her comfort clothes – a dark orange blouse made of soft cotton, and a vest and trousers in light brown. Evidently she was too depressed to try any harder.

Arranged before her on matching chairs were all six of her guests, the Chousai, Taishi and Daiboku, as well as the Royal Scribe gently waving a fan over her friend. He took up his customary position at her side.

"Right," said Sekishi, her voice warning that she wasn't in the mood for any nonsense or manipulation. "What is all this about?"

Shouryuu leaned forwards to put his forearms on her desk. "This," he said intently, looking straight at her, "is about Kou. Or, more specifically, what you are not going to do about Kou."

"Who said anything about Kou? I thought we were going to talk about Kakuno."

He dismissed the protest with a wave of his hand.

"We know you better than that. Kou is all you've been talking of these past days."

"We're sorry about Kakuno," added Gyousou. "Believe us. We earnestly feel your pain. But we are worried about the signs of obsession that you're beginning to show."

"I'm not-"

"Youko, I know it's hard. Ruling a country was never meant to be easy," added Hanrin, serious for once. "But your duty is not Kou. You owe Kou nothing. Kou expects nothing from you. But what you do have to worry about is Kei, a country that is really quite destitute and needs the full concentration of her Empress."

"So you're saying I should just let the people of Kou die?" snapped Sekishi, her small store of composure already worn out. "Don't you understand? Unless someone does something, there won't be a Kou!"

"That is not your problem" said Shouryuu calmly.

She gave a short barking laugh. "So says the great meddler! Guess who put me on this very throne? Who helped to restore our guests from Tai, by meddling?"

"That was different."

"I fail to see how it is."

"Yes," snorted Enki, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded. "You do."

"What?"

"There are worlds of difference between the Kei and Tai cases, and the situation in Kou. Kei and Tai had hope. They had kirin and monarchs, who just needed a little help to regain their footing. They had working economies and not so great financial difficulty as to be unsolvable with the application of some generous loans and donations of surplus grain. Kou is … Kou has been in utter chaos for years. It's been slipping for decades. It has no ruler, and no hope of one since Kourin has not yet matured. Even if we did attempt something, the provisional government holds no sway over the people, and warlords and tyrants are running the place if our espionage networks are earning their lunch. Besides, a huge part of the problem is that Kou is ravaged by such numbers of youma and terrible natural disasters, and there is absolutely nothing we can do about that."

"Youko," said Gyousou. "There's nothing we can do. You have to let it go."

"No I don't," she said, eyes smouldering.

"No, she doesn't."

The whole group blinked and turned to stare at the speaker. Taiki sat quietly in his chair, hands folded neatly on his lap.

Gyousou looked down at him in confusion. "Kouri?"

"I don't see why it's so obviously to right thing to do, to let Kou die," Taiki explained, steel-coloured head held up high. "I do not see any difference between their dilemma and the one Tai was rescued from not so very long ago. Master Gyousou, both of us and untold numbers of our people would be dead without the intervention of our friends. I have been told that before our rescue, there were many who would have given up our case as hopeless."

Shouryuu and Keiki couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"Yet Naka- sorry- Empress Sekishi persuaded them to take that great chance on us. And here we sit today. So who are we to say what is and is not possible?"

"Kouri…"

Kei-Ou smiled faintly. "Thank you, Tai Taiho."

The looked deep into each other's eyes for a moment. The two of them had some kind of quiet tie between them, some bond of barely comprehensible but perfect understanding. It was slightly unsettling, and slightly inductive to envy.

"You can't risk Kei with such a gamble," Gyousou protested, eying the two of them with a troubled look in his red eyes.

"Yes I can. I am the only person who can."

Keiki finally spoke out. "Shu-jou," he said, leaning over her shoulder until he caught her gaze. "Please think about this."

Her eyes were almost too intense to bear. Beneath the resolve and conviction, there was a terrible glint of fear.

"I have," she said, voice steady and gentle. "It's all I've been thinking about for quite some time now."

"Shu-jou…"

"Listen to me for a moment, Keiki. And the rest of you."

She stood and looked them all in the eye.

"We are Emperors and kirin. We are, in the bitter truth of it, the only people in the world who can make a difference. And with this ability comes a great burden of responsibility. We carry the troubles of every soul in our kingdoms upon our shoulders. If we are lucky, we have a few friendly hands reached out to steady us.

"We are very few, and very fallible. But we are also very powerful. And so, if it is really up to us, then I find it utterly foolish to neglect our duty."

"What are you saying?" frowned Shouryuu.

She turned to him. "En-Ou, why did you help me, when Rakushun sent you that letter? Why did you help Tai, when Risai came to us?"

"I'm not totally heartless, you know."

She shook her head. "You can shrug it off, but I know that you feel it too. The weight of moral responsibility. When you hear the cries of the suffering, and know that you are one of the only people who can ease them, then how much more painful they are to the ears."

"Youko."

"You know it's true- you all know it's true, especially the kirin here. We were given our thrones for a reason."

"That reason is to look after our own countries," said Shouryuu, eyes a little darker. "You're beginning to worry me, Youko."

"Don't you remember Kakuno?" she shot back at him. "The tents of the burnt and bleeding? The cries of the wounded? The mourning for the dead?"

"Things like this happen. It's hard to deal with, but deal we must."

"No! No, no, no- don't you see? I can't… I can't sit back and watch Kou falling to her knees! There are people over there! Living, breathing people!"

Shouryuu's mouth was tight. He was quiet for a moment.

"We searched Kakuno" he said at last.

She didn't seem to comprehend. "What?" she asked, voice hoarse.

"You were right."

"I…?"

"You were right. We saw it too. Someone burnt Kakuno deliberately. Why, we don't know. But it was without a doubt an act of premeditated murder."

She felt blindly for her chair. Keiki gave it a nudge towards her. She sank down, hands shaking.

"I don't understand. Why didn't you tell me before?"

His gaze was unflinching. "What do you remember about the Jun Tei incident?"

"An ancient Emperor of Sai tried to intercede with the kingdom of Han, then under the rule of a despotic tyrant. The moment his armies crossed the border, he and his kirin were instantly struck dead by Tentei."

"Tentei does not distinguish between interference in another kingdom for malicious purposes, and interceding for the good of that kingdom's people. You understand this?"

"I understand."

"What do you propose to do?"

"No!" Keiki broke out, silenced by a glance from the Emperor, the full force of five hundred years radiating out from his body. He look desperately down at Kei-Ou, but she was staring at her hands, deep in thought.

"I'm not sure," she said hesitantly. "Although… I was holding hopes for financial assistance. But I would not attempt a military manoeuvre or an occupation. Just aid."

"Then you are on your own," the Emperor of En said bluntly. "En can no longer afford to finance the efforts in Kou. It's a vast sink of resources that I need for my own people. And I have other concerns. Ryuu is now, without any cloud upon its certainty, falling. Ryuu is my direct neighbour. Kou is not."

She nodded, holding his gaze. "Wakatta."

He frowned and looked away.

"Of course, Tai-Ou, I would not ask you to press further hardship on your people," she said smoothly, voice like glass in winter, leaving the man with no chance to speak. "Han-Ou?"

"I have a kingdom to run," he said softly, face gentle. "And I must also begin looking to Ryuu. I have enough problems of my own, helping to hold up the kingdom of Hou."

Enki cleared his throat, almost in apology. "I suggest that you ask the Emperor of Sou and his family," he said. "Sou is very wealthy and they also share Kou's border. I imagine that he would be willing to lend some assistance."

There was silence for a minute, as they all looked in trepidation at the young Empress before them. A dull roll of thunder crackled across the sky like a herald.

"Nakajima-san-"

They all glanced at Taiki. His face was kind. Kind, but sad.

"There is nothing Tai can do for Kei. But please let me know if there is something Kaname can do for Youko."

She looked up and tried to smile.

"I'm going to talk to the provisional government," she said, voice carefully casual. "I'm going to go and talk to them. See if we can't arrange some kind of Allies of the Moon, like the one Lord Gekkei managed in Hou – my apologies, Shoukei. Then I'm going to track down these arsonists."

She stood up.

"I need…I need to be alone a little while," she said, voice faint. "Please excuse me."

With that she turned and fled.

The rain broke a few moments later.

They dispersed quietly. Koshou awkwardly started after Sekishi, but Keiki silently shook his head.

He walked back to the main palace by way of the covered walkways, the roofs edged in intricately latticed wooden panels. The air was growing glutinous.

He paused a while in one of the outer courtyards, not yet ready to face the scrutiny of the palace halls. There was a twisted and gnarled black pine in the centre of the courtyard. He stood and contemplated its stoic persistence. Outside, the willows were shifting restlessly in the winds, trailing ropes of leaves through the water.

They used this courtyard to display a collection of bonsai trees. There was one on the table in front of him, a perfect replica of the black pine.

One shaped a bonsai tree slowly, with great care, over many decades. One did not let it change too quickly, one did not hurry it. Unfortunately one often didn't have the luxury of applying this method to life.

Running footsteps sounded down the walkway, splashing and growing louder. A moment later Sekishi burst through the open gate and leant against the wall to catch her breath, wiping rain from her face with the back of one hand.

"Shu-jou."

She started. "Keiki. I didn't see you there."

"You should not have run off like that."

"I know. I don't want to run away any more, Keiki. That's what I was trying to say at the meeting. I want everyone to know exactly what I'm doing, and why I'm doing it. Because how are we supposed to work together, otherwise?"

"You do not have to go to Kou yourself. You can send your soldiers instead."

She crossed to the curved stone rail and sat down. "Yes, I could. But would sending men into Kou count as an invasion? I can't take that chance. Besides, it feels to me as though I'm the only one prepared to do this correctly. There's such a prejudice against helping other countries here. Even if I fail here…perhaps it'll make people reconsider…"

She sighed. "I know everyone's thinking 'why bother?'. It's such a huge task. Every time I think about seriously I can feel myself starting to panic. Even if somehow I can find a good leader to keep Kou safe until the new Emperor ascends, the economy is still in ruins. I'll need to keep Kou afloat. I'll need to find food, and labour to rebuild roads and towns. There are refugees that need to be taken home, and tyrants to be brought to justice. And on top of that, I can't neglect Kei's concerns. There's still Kakuno to sort out. My government is in shambles. Let's not even mention the percentage of the population that still live in poverty.

I suppose all I can do is take the advice that Rakushun gave me. Find one manageable thing you think that you can handle, and do it. Then a bit more, then a bit more. I can't let myself get overwhelmed or I'll panic and never leave my rooms again."

"So you see, Keiki, I'm not running away in the slightest." She smiled slightly. "I think I'm growing up."

"You're committed to doing this, then?"

"Life is hard enough as it is, and the rewards seem small sometimes. As soon as one problem is solved, another comes along." She sat forward and looked at her hands linked together in her lap. "That's why so many people fall into despair. But there's one thing we can always hang onto." She glanced back up to him. "There is nothing more important in the world than people, Keiki. As long as we hold onto people and keep them safe and happy, nobody can say that our lives are lived in vain.

"The people of Kou aren't under my protection. But they are in trouble, and I'm in a position to help them. That doesn't mean I have to. But we're all people together, all human and all making mistakes. So even if it is a mistake, I'm going to do what I can." She breathed out. "Am I making sense? It's a hard idea to put into words."

"I think I understand," he said slowly.

Sekishi stood and started to pace to floor. "Sometimes I think it's unfair that kirin are raised only on Mt Hou, then expected to stay in the palace once they are instated as Saiho. It means that they are unaware of how matters in the kingdom really stand. It's bad down there, Keiki. That's one of the reasons I took you with me to Meikaku, during the Wa Province Rebellion. How much do you remember of Kou? It's far worse now. You haven't seen the state it's in.

"It's easy up here, when we're clothed in silks and live in golden palaces, to forget the reality of life in the kingdom. We really are in a different world. But the truth of the kingdom is not to be found in the palace. It may be quiet and peaceful up here, but none of this matters. The only thing that does matter is the land below, so sometimes we have to flout convention and go look and interfere with our own two hands. Why else do you think so many bad rulers are shocked when their people rise against them? It's because they couldn't see what was happening beneath them. I've become guilty of that. I let myself become too accustomed to palace life. I can't slip like that again. So even though I have only the faintest idea of what I should be doing, I'm going to Kou myself. I want to see it with my own eyes. Spies are useful but I'm not going to rely on them totally. If I'm going to be of any help, this is on my own shoulders."

She stopped in front of him. "Do you remember, in Takuhou? I asked you to trust me, no matter what happens. Keiki, I trust you, and I need you. Even if nobody else in the world has faith in me, I can keep going if you trust me. That'll be enough."

He knew his face had fallen and gone stern, but he attempted to smile, and perhaps he didn't fail too terribly.

"I have always trusted you," he said "but I cannot help the fact that I am scared."

"Well," Enki sighed. "It was a last-ditch attempt anyway. She's nothing if not independently minded."

Keiki could feel her getting further away with every second. It was as though something was stretching taught in his chest. She'd faded from sight long ago.

She'd expressly ordered him not to feed the Rikkan some story about her going off to study in another country. It hadn't worked the first time, and she didn't want the ministers feeling bitter because they'd been lied to again. It made her seem as though she didn't trust them, and disrespected them enough to think they'd believe her excuses.

There was also no reason to put off her departure. Kei would be safe in Koukan's hands for a while, with Keiki lending his own support. She would be home in a week or two. A reconnaissance trip, she was calling it. And she had Hankyo with her, and Hyouki would keep them in contact.

He let out a long sigh.

"She's just doing what she thinks is right," Taiki protested.

Enki shrugged. "We can think something is right all we want, that doesn't mean it actually is."

"Oh, come on. You can't disapprove that much."

Enki muttered something inaudible and slunk back inside.

Taiki moved closer to Keiki. There were standing on a little rock ledge on the edges of Ryou-un Mountain. The carved stone balustrade was smooth with years of use.

"There is no sense in letting sadness and suffering rule your heart," he remarked, apparently to the afternoon air. "You will only suffer more in the end. But you can do something about it."

Keiki silently looked down at him.

"She's been hurting as much as any of us. Her way of coping is to take action, jump right into the thick of the action. It's the only way she can sooth her conscience."

Taiki's mouth grew a little tight.

"It was not easy, when my kirin nature awoke for the second time. I had no horn, no powers and no shirei. Even after I was reunited with my master, rebuilding Tai from the rubble was hard work, and full of heartache.

"But you can't wait for contentment and happiness to find you. You have to search within yourself and find your own peace. Many people have expressed surprise at how I have smiled and laughed despite all the things that have happened to me. They put this down to my own peculiar nature.

"But sitting in the wreckage of our kingdom, almost all vestiges of past joy gone, it was all I could do not to break down. Still, I made myself smile, for courage, and because I knew otherwise I might never find the will to pick everything up again. I keep smiling for the people. So they can look at me and say 'the Taiho is happy. He's still the happy, smiling person he was before all this tragedy happened. If even the Taiho is sure that everything will be fine, and is behaving like this, then surely everything will be fine. Perhaps we can bring ourselves to hope that Tai will be a good place again, one day."

"Taiki…"

Taiki's eyes were grave as he regarded his old friend.

"As we can do is – all we can do. Whether that be to keep smiling, or to brush off other's concerns and stride around in a cloud of self-confidence, or even to go wading right into trouble. We're all just trying to cope the best we can. Even you. All you can do is keep up that stoic face, isn't it?

"So let's let her get on with this, and get on with the things we can do. Worrying will not solve our problems. Just keep working, look after each other when we can, and not let our hearts falter when things go wrong. Besides-"

He gave a smile, slightly sad, but honest and real. "She'll pick up her own mistakes. She's never led us too badly astray before, has she?"