There should not have been blood. Not that there was an extensive amount of it, nor was it even a steady flow, but it was there. That in itself was enough to worry me. I held the fabric in my hands, staring at it dismally, at the crimson stain that the had appeared on it. Crumpling it up into a ball, I jammed it into the corner of the room, unsure what to do with it for the moment.

The heavy robes I wore seemed to drag heavily at that moment and I sat down. The robes were necessary to hide the fact that I was pregnant. Rather obviously pregnant. My stomach had sometime since grown with the child that I carried inside me. Absently, I lay my hand on my stomach, sighing slightly. My hair fell across my face in disarray that I did not care enough to fix.

Bleeding. I did not know what this meant, but I knew it was not good. Our child, our baby... Shutting my eyes, I shook my head. The fear I had harbored about having this child still lingered inside me, whispering to me in quiet moments uncertainties and what-ifs that left me feeling lost and hopeless. But more than that, I wanted our baby, Nuriko's and mine. And this bleeding could not be a normal part of pregnancy. Was it a warning that something was wrong? Had I somehow hurt the baby within me? I lay down on the bed, resting for a moment. I would be required in the throne room soon; matters of the country were in need of my direction.

Nuriko was out somewhere, I did not know where for sure. Nuriko, gods... what would he say about this? I had not told him and I did not plan on doing so just yet. There was no need to worry him. He had already been through so much. I loved him too much to want to worry him anymore. His dark eyes, though still alive and bright with his life, were still haunted. In those quiet empty times when he thought no one was looking, when he thought no one could see, I saw the pain that had imprinted itself there, the memories of blood and fear, the feeling of loss, the harsh sting of a cold reality that had taken us both by surprise.

He did not need to know about this just yet. Perhaps there would be no reason to be worried. I would find out soon. Sighing to myself, I ran my fingers over the smooth fabric of the bed sheets, taking comfort from the way the material slid beneath my skin. I would go to Mitsukake. It was then that I felt it; something within me stirred, a tiny movement that took me by surprise. Placing my hand on my stomach, I remained perfectly still, and it happened again. I felt it, the soft kicking. Our baby was moving. I smiled to myself. It was still all right... Perhaps the bleeding would be nothing, just a strange occurrence, maybe even something normal...

But no, that was wrong. Something was not right. I knew it. I could feel it. My entire body felt weak. Simple things were such a trial lately; I was so tired. So tired... but there were things I had to do. I would see Mitsukake after I met with my advisors... this evening. I shut my eyes again, fighting off the sleep I struggled so often to find at night. Time flew past me suddenly; everything moved so fast. The chill breeze that stirred the air, the song of the birds that made their homes just outside my window, the shining sun that streamed through the closed shades, they all flew further and further away from me as sleep pulled me deeper and deeper into a dreamless, restless slumber.
 
 

Something wasn't right.

I might not have been Chiriko, but I was no fool. When Hotohori was hiding something, I knew. And the blood was hard to hide. I did share her bed. I was beginning to wonder if that was all I did.

No, that was wrong of me. I sighed, worried, and moved from the bed to the window. She had been curt with everyone, even me. I knew it wasn't because of something I had done- at least, not recently- but it still hurt. Light rain was drizzling outside, making soft background noise. It was making me sleepy.

It had been hard to sleep recently. Nightmares plagued me every night. Always they were of the same things- my near-death, Chiriko's death, or losing Hotohori. I always woke up in a cold sweat, shivering under the blankets. I had been getting better recently though. I did not wake up Hotohori as often. I suppose that that was an improvement.

I was still worried though. Bleeding wasn't normal for a pregnancy, I did not think. I wasn't sure, of course, but it did not seem like a good thing.

But it wasn't for me to bring it up. She had to tell me, if she wanted me to know. It rather hurt that she was trying to keep it from me. Hadn't I told her most, if not all, of my worries? I suppose though, that that was slightly unfair. I hadn't told her what my nightmares were, but I think that she must have guessed.

And I should have fewer worries anyway. After all, she had to worry about the entire country, first of all, then Miaka, then our child, the heir, and I could only hope that I fit somewhere in there. I sighed again, quietly. She, after Miaka, was my foremost priority. Why couldn't I be more understanding? A little frustrated with myself for my recent lack of compassion for her, I cast my eyes toward the garden, wondering what she possibly could have seen in me.

My eyes came to rest on a small bush, cluttered with light blue flowers, cheerful, looking as if they enjoyed the rain. I felt my eyes cloud with tears, remembering the other flowers I had given her. So long ago... and yet not.

I stepped outside, barely dressed and not really caring. I dashed through the rain, slipping once and landing rather hapharzardly, getting myself soaked. But I finally reached my goal. I examined the bush carefully, searching through the rain for the most perfect one. I pulled it off the branch, the light blue sparkling with the water on it.

Moving a bit more carefully toward our room again, I carefully tucked the flower into one of my flowing sleeves. When I arrived, I shut the door behind me. I laid the flower on the bed and turned to the closet.

The dress I chose to wear was the one that I had worn when we had eaten dinner that first night, forever ago. I tied up my hair in a similar fashion as to that night, letting some trail down my back. It was slightly damp, but it would dry eventually. I slid my feet into the slippers I had worn that night as well, then turned and picked up the flower on the bed.

I was ready.

I exited our room, my feet padding softly across the wooden floor. I thought she must have been in the throne room, so that was where I directed my steps. At the door there, I raised my hand to knock lightly.
 
 

The book lay in my lap, open, but serving little purpose other than giving me something to stare at. The word-scarred page had not been turned in an hour. Idly flipping at the corners of the thin paper sheets, my hands busied themselves while my thoughts flew about my mind. A soft sound broke into my silence, dragging me from my musings- a knock. "Hai? Come in…" I said, watching the door quietly.

A small violet head peeked into the room shyly, and dark familiar eyes scanned the room quickly, coming to rest on me. "Gomen... are you busy?" Nuriko's soft voice was questioning, almost too quiet, as he stepped into the room, hanging back near the door.

Shaking my head, I smiled at him slightly. "No, of course not..." I shut the book in my lap, sliding it onto the seat beside me, not looking at it as I did so, keeping my eyes focused on the slight figure in front of me.

He took another hesitant step towards me and glancing around the empty room. Perhaps he was looking for someone… Akito or another of my advisors. Seeing no one, he shut the door behind him and moved to the throne where I sat. His feet, clad again in his familiar feminine slippers, made only soft noises as they traversed the floor. Shyly, he raised his hand to me, holding up a small flower that glowed vibrant in the dimly lit room. "Gomen... I haven't brought you a flower in a long time." Falling silent, he looked at me, his eyes filled with concern. I was unsure what it was for, but it made me almost uneasy.

I took the flower, looking at him. When I spoke, my voice was almost shy, quiet in the dim air. "Thank you..." I pulled my eyes away from his, away from the concern reflected there, and focused them on the flower. It looked so fragile in my hand, but at the same time, so beautiful, so precious. I remembered the first time he had given me one, after he had discovered my secret. To let me know everything would be all right... was he saying the same thing with this flower? Still unable to bring my eyes to meet his, I watched my hands as I brushed my fingers over the soft petals.

After a minute of startling silence that seemed to last an eternity, I heard his quiet voice again. "Ne... are you all right?"

Forcing myself to look up at him, I suddenly knew. He had to know I was hiding something, or, at the very least, suspect it. I knew I should tell him, but my lips would not form those words. It was wrong to keep silent, but was telling him any better? "I don't know," I said quietly, unsure, my hands clutching tightly to the fragile flower.

Quietly, he sighed and gave me a small smile, the expression seeming to be an effort. "All right... you'll tell me if you want me to know." Hurt flashed across his eyes, gone as quickly as it had appeared, but I saw it. Hurt... because of me? "I'll see you later then. Akito asked me to do some things for him." He turned toward the door, away from me. "I love you..." he said quietly, before starting to the door.

I watched him for a moment, my mind screaming at me to stay silent, to not drag him into my problem, my worries. But something deeper in me refused to be silent any longer. "Nuriko... wait... please..." The decision was made in those three words. Slowly, and lacking any grace I may have possessed before I became pregnant, I stood.

His steps stopped and he stood still, frozen in time. After a minute, he turned, only his head, and glanced at me over his shoulder. "Yes?"

My voice was a quiet whisper. The words were not easy to say and they left me feeling choked, but that may have also been the lump of tears I was holding back, keeping at bay. "It won't go away... I don't know what it is... what's wrong..." My tone dropped even lower. "I'm scared..." And it was more than what was happening inside me that frightened me.

Nuriko turned to me fully. I could feel his eyes on my face, searching for my eyes. He spoke, not much louder than I had. "Please talk to me."

Pulling my eyes to his, I nodded, not saying anything more. Stepping forward again, he reached out and took my hand, matching my silence. Still looking at him, I broke the icy silence between us. "The baby..." I began softly, "something isn't right. I'm bleeding." My hand lay in his, barely holding back.

His hand tightened around mine. "I know," he said quietly.

I was only a bit surprised, mostly afraid. Of course he had known; everything I had done to spare him the worry would have only made him uncertain. "I didn't want to worry you... you've been through so much..." I trailed off, shaking my head slightly, angry with myself. "I hoped it would stop... but it didn't and..." I managed not to sound frantic.

"Hotohori..." he whispered, saying nothing more.

"I don't want to lose our baby..." I fell into silence as well, finding nothing else to say, watching my words abandon me completely.

I felt his eyes on me a moment more. "Can we go see Mitsukake?" he asked quietly. I nodded, still not saying anything. Giving me another small smile, he pulled me towards the door, not releasing my hand. Letting myself be led like a child, I followed him in relative silence that was broken only by the sound of our footsteps and the distant whisper of wind through the palace trees. Raising a hand, Nuriko knocked on the door to the healer's room and took a step back, moving beside me, waiting for an answer.

From inside, muffled a bit, Mitsukake's deep voice came in response. "Door's open..."

Nuriko pushed it open and stepped in, tugging me gently behind him. I still felt rather like a wayward child, being led towards a lecture. I cast my gaze about the room and spotted the tall man halfway into a small closet. As I watched, he removed himself and drew himself up to his full height, turning his dark quiet gaze to us. "Nuriko... heika..." He greeted, inclining his head slightly. "What can I do for you?"

Beside me, Nuriko released my hand and glanced up at me. I managed to bring my gaze to meet that of the tall man. "Something is wrong... I think... with the baby."

Nodding in response, Mitsukake gestured for both of us to sit down. "What exactly?"

Not accepting his invitation for a seat, I told him. "I... I've been bleeding." I stopped short. A gentle hand took mine again and I glanced over at Nuriko, quietly, grateful for his presence. If it were not for him... Nodding to himself, Mitsukake began looking me over, a small frown settling on his face. Uncomfortably, I stood, unsure what to do as the healer examined me. Nuriko stood beside me, looking a bit uneasy as well. Nervously, I clutched onto his hand, frightened of what Mitsukake would tell us. Nodding once again, he turned his eyes to us, fixing my husband and myself beneath his sad perceptive gaze.

"Well?" Nuriko's voice betrayed the nervousness we both felt.

Gathering his words in his mind, the tall man continued watching us for a time before answering. "I can heal you... but..."

The relief that had not been given time to take seed was shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. "But?" I repeated. Nuriko's eyes raised to me, unsure.

Mitsukake sighed, looking as though he did not want to speak his next words. "If I heal you... there will be... danger to the baby."

I could not say anything in response. Our baby... no. My free hand strayed to my stomach even as I tightened my other around Nuriko's. I could not lose our baby. Nuriko's hand squeezed mine in response. "What do you mean?"

"I can't heal her without disrupting the baby..." He turned his gaze to me, looking too calm, too professional, as he spoke. "You could lose it." It. So cold, so detached, but his dark eyes still held that distant sadness.

Neither I nor my husband moved for a time, afraid. Suddenly the life inside me seemed so fragile, delicate. "Then it's better to leave things as they are?" I asked quietly, unsure I wanted the answer.

Before my words were even spoken, the healer shook his head slowly.

"Please tell us what to do." Nuriko's voice was soft and tight with something held back, something that only laced the very edge of his words.

"I can't make this choice for you," Mitsukake began softly, his voice losing its aloof feeling. "If you leave things as they are... even if the baby makes it, there will be a danger to you during the labor, heika."

"I won't lose our baby..." I looked at Mitsukake. That was something I could not do. My voice was quiet, but final, a tone I had long ago learned and mastered. A whisper spoken firmly, definitely, accomplished more than a shouted word of doubt. "I won't."

Nuriko's eyes turned to me, his face looking torn. "And I can't lose you..." he said, trailing off. I looked at him silently, unable to say anything to him, just watching the apprehension that swirled in his eyes.

He tore his eyes away from mine, looking down, his mood suddenly different. "Do what you feel is right."

Shaking my head, I dropped my gaze as well, not wanting my husband or the tall healer to see the tears that had begun gathering in my eyes. "I..."

Nuriko's eyes lifted to Mitsukake. "We need to think... we'll be back soon." He took my hand again and pulled me to the door, casting a grateful look to the healer before shutting the door in between us. I followed after Nuriko silently. I knew what my choice should be. It would be selfish to put my fear before the innocent life of our baby, but I was scared and fear is indeed a strong emotion.

After a silent journey, Nuriko pulled me into our room, seating me on the bed. His movements were slow, worried, each step measured but hasty. In this manner, he sat himself beside me on the bed, his eyes watching me in silence.

Almost warily, I glanced over at him. "Nuriko..." I stopped there, unsure of what to say further.

"Tell me what you think." His voice was quiet, almost too quiet. Something unsaid lay hidden behind his dark eyes.

"I don't want to lose our baby." Again I spoke the words in a whispered voice, but this time it was more frantic, more pleading than it was certain. He nodded slightly, completely still save for that small movement, even the normal spark in his eyes had ceased it's normal dancing to fall into a motionless slumber. "But I'm scared..." I finished, my voice and words trailing off.

His voice was as quiet as mine had been. "I'm scared too..." He gave me a weak smile, a half-hearted attempt at reassurance. "Terrified, really, but it doesn't matter. I'm here, whatever you need." He stopped his words and looked at me, watching me with eyes that spoke more than his voice.

Cautiously, I reached my arms out to him, wrapping them around him and pulling him into a light hug. "I love you," I whispered, not having any other words to say. I only wanted to be safe, warm, so I sought refuge in his arms.

A slight smile crossed his face as he hugged me back. "It's going to be fine... I know it is."  He sounded so sure, so certain that I believed him. In that moment, I think I truly believed him.

I nodded. "It will be..." It had to be.

He pulled away, a lingering moment later, and his eyes searched for mine again. "What are we going to do?" He was trying to be strong. I could see that. His eyes and face were a mask to hide what he felt, his voice soft, restrained.

I just looked at him, unable to answer his question, not knowing the answer myself. Uncertainty and fear wound themselves about me again, nearly taking the breath from my lips. "I don't know..." I said, my voice almost choked. What could I do?

Quietly, questioningly, he answered me with another inquiry. "What do you want to do?"

Shaking my head and dropping my eyes, I rested my hand lightly on my stomach, suddenly struck again by the fact that I carried, inside me, a tiny life, innocent, waiting to be born into the world. "I don't want to lose our baby..." I bit my lip bottom lip lightly.

His features hardened, his voice becoming firm as well. "I don't want to lose either of you. And we won't." He looked at me seriously. "Maybe Mitsukake will have something in mind."

Would it be foolish to hope for that? Perhaps the healer did have a solution... Half-hopeful, half-doubtful, I raised my eyes to him. "Do you think so?" I paused a moment in my words, feeling a sharp movement from the baby. Quickly, I reached out and took his hand, placing it on my stomach. "The baby is moving..." I kept my voice to a whisper, unsure exactly why.

Nuriko blinked in confusion for a moment, but then his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. He was nearly glowing. "I never knew they did this..." He sounded almost blissful. I was glad to see him happy, to see the sadness in his face vanish... even for a moment. I nodded in confirmation to really nothing and just smiled at him, feeling quiet, not trusting myself to speak.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" He sounded excited, seeming to have forgotten the problem, still looking happy. I could not help but smile back.

"I'm afraid to guess... in case I'm wrong."

Still caught up in our baby, his smile grew. "We need to think of a name..."

He was right, of course, our child should have a name when it came into the world. "You're right... we do." I paused for a moment, thinking. "Any ideas?" I looked to him.

Blinking, he looked almost taken aback at my question. His hand still rested on my stomach lightly, waiting for our child to stir again.

The baby kicked again, harder this time, and Nuriko jumped back. He turned startled eyes to me, almost amazed. "Doesn't that hurt?"

I shook my head, letting myself laugh a bit. "No... it doesn't." And it didn't. There was no pain, only a strange feeling of shifting.

Surprise still evident on his face, he kept his eyes on me. "But it kicks so hard..." He frowned. "I don't like that... it..." His words stopped, and then began again, jumping to something completely different. "I think it's a girl."

Raising an eyebrow, I gave him a curious look. "What makes you say that?" I wondered briefly if that had something to do with the kicking.

He crossed his arms, determinedly. "Because I think she is." He sounded so definite, so sure, like he always did. Everything, in that moment, seemed so far away, except Nuriko and our child. All the worries that had haunted me were held at bay, for the time.

I smiled at him. "If you say so... it will be nicer saying she than it in any case." Slowly, I leaned back, lowering myself so that I was lying down. My hair pooled out beneath my head, nearly a pillow. I shut my eyes and sighed softly, thinking. Would it be all right? I shifted my position, uncomfortable. I had to believe it would be, because otherwise... No. There would be no otherwise.

A gentle hand brushed across my face, sweeping aside some of the hair that had fallen across my closed eyes. "Are you all right?"

Opening my eyes, I glanced over to him, watching him for a silent moment before nodding. His gaze never left mine, the soft, uncertain look in his eyes not fading or flickering. "I will be..." I said quietly.

His hand came to rest lightly on my cheek, barely touching my face. Silently, he nodded, seeming to be waiting for me to move.

I sighed softly, sitting up slowly, unpleased at how difficult that process had become. I felt unbalanced, almost dizzy with the movement. "We should go back to him... ne?"

A small smile flickered across his face. "Of course..." He leaned over and kissed me, lingeringly, brushing his lips against mine. I kissed him back, softly, letting myself remain in that moment before standing up slowly, not yet stepping towards the closed door.

He pouted slightly, his face falling suddenly into a childlike expression. "Is that all?"

A bit amused, I smiled down at him. The room was half shadowed, the cloud-covered sun outside barely shedding its grey light through the window. Still pouting, his wide eyes watched me, sparkling even in the dimmed light. The dress he wore was pale in colors, his hair pulled back loosely, away from his perfect face. "What more would you like?" I asked, trying to keep the amusement from my voice.

His face colored, suddenly taking on a light pink color. "Anou... Mitsukake must be waiting..."

I laughed slightly before leaning down and kissing him again. My mood had subdued when I pulled back, and I looked at him, my expression serious, pensive. "Everything is going to be all right." I was suddenly so sure. I doubted the certainty would last, but then... right then, I was sure. "Because I love you so much, and you're here." I started out of the room before, waiting for him outside the door.

He blinked, the light in his wide eyes flashing out for one moment, and he blushed again. Hurriedly, he stood, the pale pink color still visible in his cheeks and followed after me. In relative silence, we walked the short distance back to Mitsukake's place. The air was slightly chilled, everything still a bit damp from the rain which had only just ceased its monotonous pouring. Nuriko trailed behind me, his light steps echoing my own. The door to the healer's room was halfway open revealing the healer, sitting on a chair, leafing through a small pile of papers, waiting for us to return. Hesitantly, I knocked on the partially opened door, waiting for Mitsukake to notice us.

"Come in, heika, Nuriko..." his deep voice rumbled, his eyes not yet leaving his work.

Nuriko trailed after me, not touching me, but staying only a breath away. He paused, waiting for me to enter. Almost warily, I stepped inside, nearly forcing my step across the threshold. I did not know yet what we had decided. I did not want to know. Mitsukake kept his dark eyes focused upon us. Shifting about uncomfortably, Nuriko stepped inside, his soft shoes whispering against the wooden floor. "Can you tell us our options?" he asked quietly.

The healer nodded, seating himself in one of the large wooden chairs that sat beside a table cluttered with papers and scattered herbs. "Of course... please, sit down..." He lifted one of his hands, gesturing towards the chair that matched his own. I did as suggested, smoothing my robes out anxiously, watching my hands run across the fabric, compulsively working over the wrinkles that were not actually there.

Nuriko cast about for a moment for another seat. Seeing none in the room, he contented himself to sitting on the floor, his skirt pooling out around him as he gazed up at me before turning his dark eyes to Mitsukake.

Clearing his throat, the tall man began his explanation. "There are basically two options. I can heal what is causing you to bleed, or I can not." His words stopped, but still I watched him, knowing there was something more, hoping there was, and dreading to hear it.

Off to my side, Nuriko's face worked its way into a frown. "What's making her bleed?" he queried quietly.

Mitsukake glanced at him, his brow furrowing for a moment as he thought over his words. "How familiar are you with pregnancy, Nuriko?"

Color crept into Nuriko's face and he glanced away, almost embarrassed. "Well... I know how it's done."

For his part, the healer did his best to stifle a laugh and simply smiled at the two of us. "There is, for lack of a better word, a sac that holds the food and sustenance that the baby uses while it grows. Sometimes, very rarely in fact-" He broke off his words long enough to turn his gaze to me. "I'm surprised to see it with you, heika- sometimes this is... situated wrong... and it tears and sometimes the wall of the-" He paused, changing his choice of words just before they left his mouth. "-womb tears with it."

Nuriko turned confused eyes to me, blinking. "Oh." His glance was helpless, but I understood that feeling well. I returned his gaze for a moment before looking back to the doctor who sat just in front of me. "Why can't you fix it?" I asked, my voice level.

Mitsukake sighed. "Because during the healing, the baby's link could be damaged, or closed... it would be cut off from its energy supply." He paused, his voice so cold, so distant as though he were discussing a harvest, or the weather. "It would starve."

I shivered involuntarily at his tone. He was so detached, so far away; no emotion showed on his passive face, save for an almost distant sadness, barely visible, as though it was a trick of the room's dim light.

His frown deepening, Nuriko ventured another question. "And what happens if you don't?" he asked, voicing my own question before it even reached my lips.

Sighing again, Mitsukake turned to Nuriko. "Eventually the bleeding will begin to take its toll on her body. She may not be strong enough to go through the labor." I watched the two of them unhappily, not pleased with being talked about as though I were not present.

"She's a Suzaku seishi," Nuriko said pointedly, annoyed.

Mitsukake answered with a nod. "There is that. I am giving you the worst case on both sides... Either solution could turn out perfectly fine, but I'd be lying if I said there was no risk in either." I watched the two of them speak of my future, of the future of the child that grew inside me. It was strange, it felt as though I were an observer, a narrator in a story I could not, for the moment, touch.

I was drawn back into the world of reality at that moment by Nuriko's quiet voice, barely a whisper in the room. "It's your choice..."

Looking at Nuriko, I managed a smile before turning my eyes to Mitsukake. "I'm a strong person... I think..." My hand strayed to my stomach unconsciously, letting it rest near the life I could feel inside me. "I know I'll be fine... and I can't hurt our baby." Once again I turned back to Nuriko, not smiling any longer, just trying to look as though I was convinced as my words were. "After all, as you said, I'm a Suzaku seishi, ne?"

He frowned again. "Hotohori..." So much was said in his simple speaking of my name, but before I could respond he gave me a tiny smile. "I'm here, ne?"

I nodded, returning the smile. "Hai." And he was. I needed him so much, as long as he was there... and he was there.

Mitsukake nodded to the both of us, slipping back into his normal silence.

"Thank you..." Nuriko said quietly, turning his small smile to Mitsukake. I stood to go, smiling once at the healer in gratitude. I was ready to go when his deep voice rang out in a subdued tone through the silent room.

"I can perhaps heal only partially... not enough to affect the baby. It won't fix everything, but it may help."

I blinked, looking at him incredulously. Was there some reason he had not mentioned this before? Seeing my lack of words to say, Nuriko smiled again slightly. "Would you then?"

"Of course..." Mitsukake said nodding and stepping towards me, holding his hand out. The strange glow began coming from it, as always. A warm feeling washed through me, and something changed, a different feeling than there had been settled over me. The green light and warmth fade to be replaced by a small rush of relief. Nuriko had risen to his feet and latched onto my arm as Mitsukake pulled back his hand. "Better?" Nuriko asked, glancing up at me, questioningly.

Trying not to look surprised, I nodded, astounded by the truth I could finally put into my words. "Yes... I think so." Mitsukake watched the both of us, leaning against his chair, a tired smile on his face.

The grin spread quickly across Nuriko's face, nearly brightening the room in its wake. "You're going to be fine. I know it."

I returned his smile and nodded. "Of course I am..." I began to pull him from the room gently tugging him, anxious to be outside, to be away from what had just been the stage on which our worries had been played out.

A shout came from down the hall, calling out our names in excited tones. Nuriko, the smile still on his face, looked up to me again, happily. "They're home..."
 

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