It was somewhere between the depths of night and the first hint of day when Kouyuu awoke, body stiff and aching and slumped ungracefully over his desk, and a foul taste in his mouth.  The lamps had long since burned out, only darkness and the fuzzy outline of a stack of books greeting him when he opened his eyes, and the smell of oil and dried ink filled his nose.  This, Kouyuu thought, his lips forming into something of a humourless smile, was the fifth time this week he had fallen asleep at his desk.  A record, even for him.  And while he didn’t like to blame (well, it wasn’t his fault) and while he didn’t like to moan (well, his workload really was getting ridiculous), Kouyuu, for the first time since waking up the previous morning in exactly the same position, cursed their stupid emperor, and the whole useless court, and Shuuei, just because he got to go home and sleep in his bed.  Or more likely someone else’s. 

Kouyuu frowned, and would have sat up, brushed himself down, drunk some water to clear the taste from his mouth and the headache from his mind, and gone back to work like he had the four previous mornings, but today he just felt too tired.  So he shut his eyes and watched the colours change as the sun rose inch by inch, wondering if there was any point in going home, because as soon as he got there he’d likely have to go back to the palace again.  He could, he supposed, lie down on the floor or something, but he doubted that would be any more comfortable than his current position, and anyway, he felt melded to the desk now.  Like he’d fall over without its support, and then Kouyuu had the most insane image of himself and the desk as one being, attached forever, and Shuuei polishing his leg happily and commenting on how lovely his varnish was looking today.  It was at this point Kouyuu knew he was going crazy. 

Perhaps he should ask for a holiday.  He knew other people had them.  He’d heard about them.  A week in the mountains fishing (which sounded dull) or to a house in the country to relax with only the sound of the gentle breeze through the trees, numerous servants and a harem worthy of the emperors of ancient times for company (which sounded oddly like the nightmare he’d been having before he woke up).  

Maybe not. 

Or maybe Shuuei would know somewhere better to go.  Which, on second thought, he highly doubted.  Shuuei would just laugh at him and suggest his favourite brothel-of-the-month if Kouyuu needed to relax.  Or maybe Kouyuu (and he’d use that voice, and draw out the sounds of his name in long breaths and half-lidded eyes) would like him to help.  Then he’d get all too close, and brush a hand against his arm or back or face, and Kouyuu would get mad and shout.  Or maybe, just once, he wouldn’t.  Instead he’d look Shuuei (and he would sigh his name in something like defeat) in the eye, and show him that yes, actually, he did want Shuuei.  And yes he would prefer it if Shuuei helped him relax.  He wondered if Shuuei would be surprised, or annoyed, or maybe just a little bit happy. 

All the same, he wouldn’t do it so it didn’t matter anyway, and it was dawn now, the light orange behind his eyelids.  He could hear the first stirrings of movement in the distance.  Probably servants.  And he thought that he probably really should get up now, or else someone might find him like that; Shuuei might find him like that.  But right then, Kouyuu didn’t care, exhausted, uncomfortable, and fell back to sleep anyway.