Ueno Park, Tokyo,
Spring 1983
"...that you are the prey of the Sakurazukamori."
The small hands were incredibly soft to the touch of his lips. The face of the child in his arms was calm. Pearls of deep red blood flowed slowly across the white skin from the cuts towards the narrow wrists. Perfect pentagrams, one tip pointing along the arm towards the heart. He'd taken the pain of the cuts like a token to himself. The scent of the blood filled his senses...
...Sei-chan...
The maboroshi wavered. Twigs were reaching for him. He blinked, confused, felt the presence of another practitioner coming closer. His hands involuntarily tensed around the small body in his arms.
...You have to–...
A whiff of magic supported the child under the flowering sakura... the real flowering sakura of springtime in Ueno, while he wrapped himself deep into the illusion of the tree.
"Obaa-chan..." the child called out.
The tree's branches curled around him, actually holding him back. ...It's dangerous...
"He's a child, Tree-san." Seishiro shrugged, leaning into the blossoms.
...He will grow up... The tree's branches moved, agitated. ...and remember... It pulled him protectively close. ...What could you gain by it?...
"Something... special."
Flowers brushed his cheeks. Rough bark underneath warned of darker, bloodier pleasures following the silky touch. His body shivered at the contact, conjuring the image of the bloodied, surprisingly soft hand of the boy trembling over his cheek, his lips... The blood had smelled sweet, tempting, promising a power to come... a power to rival his own one day...
Heat flashed along his spine as blossom-cushioned branches wound deeper into his clothes, speaking of a promise already kept, a power long wakened. Cloth gave way like creamy skin under a splinter of cherry wood... Sap oozed onto his skin...
Blossoms. Blood. Wood. Skin. Heat...
He turned into the touch, arched instinctively into the flowers, seeking, searching...
The twigs were suddenly still around him.
He moaned, distraught, at the lost caress, his body protesting the denied release.
A tuft of blossoms dabbed hesitatingly at his temples. ...Sei-chan?... the tree asked, cautiously, reluctantly, and... strangely sad.
Clamp Campus, Tokyo,
Biomedical Institute
Summer 1992
He extracted the key card from the reader and waited for the confirmation that the lock was sealed. The LEDs on the panel went from red to green, one by one. Airtight seal, room sterilization, environment controls, alarms. Satisfied, he slipped the card into his pocket and turned to leave. All five sterile growth boxes had looked fine. Cell proliferation was as expected, the formation levels within acceptable boundaries. He'd intensified the protective spells as well as the adaptive magic. It would still take years...
The midday sun fell hot on his shoulders as he left the building, his jacket over his arm. Gulls shrieked above his head, sailing on the sea breeze that kept temperatures at a bearable level on the campus. He turned his face to the wind and, giving in to the moment, sauntered down to the south bulwark. He was glad he still had his keys. Clamp Academy did care about its alumni and their careers... at least those careers they knew about.
The other...
Seishiro lit up a cigarette after he left the subway station and walked down towards the harbor. The summer wind blew up his white shirt. He leaned against the railing of the south bulwark, looking across the harbor at the partially occupied Ariake docks. New and old ships, shining white ones and rusty pots. Sea birds landed on the sun-sprinkled water batting against the stones a meter beneath his feet. He inhaled the hot smoke. For once, his fingertips didn't smell of sakura and blood but of disinfectant and sterilox.
He was outside the campus grounds down here. The Sakura's presence whispered in the back of his mind, causing Hokuto's spell to trickle along his spine, reminding him how upset the tree had been about that, about a Sumeragi spell on him, about... the sacrifice itself.
He wondered if the Sumeragi fully understood what Subaru's magically illiterate sister had done in order to rouse her brother from his self-chosen death bed. For a protection to work you needed strong magic. The strongest magic out there, strong enough even for the illiterate to use, was death... more precisely the life within death, the blood. But she couldn't spill the blood herself. For her magic to work she had needed to be pure. The only one who remained pure in blood magic was the sacrifice.
She couldn't have someone unconnected spill the blood for her, because the magic would still have recognized her as the instigator.
So she had asked the victim to spill the blood for her.
From her. For her to cast her spell.
On him. For her brother.
Fueled by...
...him.
He had accommodated her.
He drew at his cigarette again. What did that say about him?
Ueno-Sakuragi-cho, Tokyo,
Autumn 1999
Seishiro shrugged into his black trench coat, then stopped and threw a last look around the house. Windows closed. Blinds down. Stove out. Good. The kitchen was cleared of perishable foods. He opened the cupboard holding his mug collection, took one out, and filled it at the faucet. Leaning with his back against the work table, he cast a long, contemplative glance at the penguin calendar as he drunk slowly.
The pentacle. October 29. Time to go.
He emptied the remaining water into the sink and placed the mug upside down to dry. He closed the entrance door and locked it carefully behind him. Habit, mostly. On his way out the gate he gave the rusty wall ornament next to it a rough spin with his hand. The creaking of its unsteady rotation followed him down the alley.
Crossing the street diagonally, his open coat fluttering in the wind, he headed towards Ueno Park. He kept his face down. The morning sun was blinding despite his sunglasses. He hadn't intended to see the tree today, but with the Yamanote line gone, it was the direct way down to the harbor and his destination. 'Kamui''s impact on the public transport system was a nuisance sometimes. As expected, the Sakura was waiting.
...The day has come...
"Yes."
...Are you sure?...
Seishiro shrugged. Branches, cushioned with blossoms, reached out for him. He stepped into them, enjoyed their soft, almost tender embrace as he allowed his companion of many years to hold him tightly. The Sakura didn't draw blood this time. The tree knew that he was going to need every ounce of magical strength he possessed. Seishiro closed his eyes at the caress as he gave in to the moment. For a moment.
"Ueno-Sakuragi-cho is still inhabited, as are parts of Ueno and Taito. The bench should sustain you for a while."
The tree's touch intensified briefly.
"I have to go. Tokyo's so much larger with the public transport system down." He almost purred when a blossom tuft brushed along his cheek.
...Take care...
"You too." Seishiro laughed faintly as he walked away, towards the Rainbow Bridge.
to be continued in
36°-6: Sumeragi Subaru - Lies