The next day started out wonderfully. Ryou's sleep was not plagued by any more scary visions, which his burgeoning instincts suggested was a good sign. Better yet, he woke up next to Darius, and despite the complexities of his situation here, the pitfalls that might lurk between them, virtual strangers that they still were, Ryou felt a rare and pure moment of happiness as he watched his lover sleep. Sleeping very soundly indeed, one arm thrown up above his head, eyes closed, face relaxed. He'd wrapped his hair in a twist of cloth tied at the nape to avoid having the disks braided into the ends clink against the roll of blanket that served as pillow. With his hair pulled back like that, Darius looked different, younger, and a little less fierce. A dog yipped in the main part of the pavilion, followed by a soft mutter of "Shhh, Zuru." Ryou, who'd glanced around automatically at the noise, jumped as he realized Darius was now sitting up beside him, bleary eyes fixed on the partition gi
The room Ryou fled to was long and narrow, barely two meters wide. Footsteps in the larger space he'd just left prompted him to quickly pull the tapestry back into place like a door. A bit of light still snuck past it to illuminate rows of decorated wooden boxes, the larger ones on the floor, smaller ones lining two long shelves. Sandalwood and dried flowers scented the air, a relief from the charnel stink in the other room which Ryou was getting a little too good at not thinking about...he ditched that train of thought. It looked like he was going to have to reassert his moral compass here in the Outlands rather than in a shrink's office back home, and the result would undoubtedly be different, but one thing was certain: now was not the time to do it. He'd stepped further into the room without thinking. He could barely see the chests anymore. At the far end of the walk-in wardrobe, another curtain was pulled aside, leading to yet another room, but that one was darkened and provided
"That's the island of Mooncrest," said Darius, pointing at a meniscus of green ground parting the waters of a slow, wide river in the valley below. "It's the crossing to which Zaratusra himself brought my ancestors several eras ago. That's where I'd hoped to go directly from Essin, if the stars had been on our side instead of intent on dicking around with us. If we'd have come through here instead of the Tanatoria border, we'd have been only a couple of hours away from home." "It was longer, but it was a nice ride," said Ryou, belying the state of his backside and indeed his whole body. "And you did tell me that the mountain road was the pretty way of approaching Sura." "I never said 'pretty'. I said it was pleasant enough," said Darius with the dismissive air of one who was more concerned with well-defended rather than easy on the eye. But behind the gruff and tough attitude, Ryou could tell he was fiercely proud of his home country and didn't particularly mind this opportunity of
As they made their way around the dais to the rear door, Darius and Ryou were intercepted by a good number of men who wanted to talk briefly with the former, congratulating him on the battle's outcome and asking for some of his time the next day. Darius got out of each conversation with a minimum of time and courtesy, which nobody seemed to be surprised or too offended at, but it still took the pair twenty minutes to reach the exit. "Inder's balls, that's better," Darius muttered, giving the room behind them one last look over his shoulder as if expecting the whole pack to follow him, tugging at the corner of his tunic. "I love Sura, I swear, but five minutes back here and I want to go to war again. Ashur's Hall is one of the public places. From here on out, it'll be quieter. Cham, Zuru," he added, looking down at the dogs. The pair perked up at the sound of their master calling their name. "Home. Wait there." The two hounds turned and trotted off to the right. Darius didn't watch t
Though the style was wildly different, the principle of Sura's royal bath was similar to onsen, and Ryou found himself oddly reassured by this small familiarity. The light supper served on the benches of a warm anteroom was excellent; fine bread free of grit, meat that didn't taste a little funny, fruit that was not even slightly withered. The wine was almost as good as the one Ryou had barely tasted in Leyam's chambers. Urtupati took great care in shaving Ryou and anointing him with various fragrant oils, and then he gave Ryou a massage that felt like that Roman deserter, Gaius, working him over again. It wasn't for the faint of heart, but once Ryou cleaned off the oil, soaped, rinsed off and then slipped into the large basin of warm water with Darius, he felt just about as good as he'd ever felt since coming to the Outlands. The basin walls had tiers so that bathers could sit and recline with the water up to their chests. Ryou sank down in the warmth with a groan of relief. Darius
Ryou waited until the sound of his lover's footsteps faded, then he hoisted himself out of the bath. He didn’t feel like wallowing in luxury just now. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he didn't want to stay alone in this ringing open space with the occasionally echoing drip of condensation as only punctuation to his thoughts. He walked over to the alcove where the bath attendants had placed towels and Ryou's dirty, travel-worn clothes. It was a shame to slip into that after finally getting thoroughly clean, but it wasn't as if he had much choice in the matter. Ryou currently had two pieces of clothing to his name, that and the tunic Darius had given him, which was in a small pack last seen tied to his horse, location currently unknown. The bath was rich with the scent of oil, water, wet stone and soap, but a new smell made Ryou wrinkle his nose in surprise; a heady fragrance like incense. "I can see what he sees in you." Ryou spun around, shock a heavy weight in his ches
In Tokyo's financial district and in Ujiie Securities & Trading co. in particular, a salaryman with any sense of ambition would never dream of leaving before his manager. Not even if that manager was Ujiie Ryou, son of the company's current president and all-around workaholic.Eight o'clock rolled around, and every tired eye in the room started ping-ponging between the clock on the wall and the back of Ryou's monitor. He ignored the distraction out of habit. After finishing the article on stocks in Norway, he noted down a few concepts he would need to research later if the new contract with that oil company's financial branch was signed. As if in answer to his thoughts, an email from the president popped up in his inbox. The old man was also working late, of course. There was a mention of the new contract, and a lunch meeting tomorrow. Ryou entered it into his planner, locked his station and switched off his screen.When he glanced up through the glass walls of his office, the eyes of
The light shining into his eye flicked off, leaving Ryou to blink away red afterimages.Yuki swapped the pocket flashlight for a pen and his patient's chart. Ryou took this as permission to put his glasses back on."Good eye movement, no signs of retinal tear. MRI showed no intracranial swelling or concussion. Sutures are okay." Then in the same breath and tone, Ryou's brother added, "I can't believe you would be dumb enough to get involved in a gang fight. Why didn't you call the police?""I was not thinking straight, I told you."The stare Yuki gave him above the rim of the chart suggested that the idea of Ujiie Ryou not thinking straight did not fit into his version of reality. It seemed he'd rather suspect him of some bizarre business-related reason to intervene in a fight. Fortunately the police had been nowhere near as suspicious of the department head of an important financial firm."I have some clothes here for you," said Yuki, giving up on stubborn brothers. "Your assistant d