Darkness. Warmth.
     He felt warm... strangely safe. Something smooth touched his cheek and temple. A heart beat against his cheek. Even breathing moved through his hair. He was held, embraced. Something heavy lay across his legs, holding him... 
     Subaru blinked in the dark, felt his lashes brush over silk. Arms were folded around him. A chin rested on his head, keeping him tucked under. The sigils on his hands tingled with power.
     Seishiro. He was lying cuddled up to... 
     Seishiro. 
     Safety was an illusion... 
     ...in the Sakurazukamori's arms, whose heat kept the ice Within at bay. He pressed his hand against the other man's chest and received an annoyed, unconscious grunt in return. The hold intensified as Seishiro involuntarily curled tighter around him, warming him even more. Sleep reached for him again. He nuzzled into the silk, breathed in the scent of sakura and blood and tobacco... Safety was an illusion... 
     ...but the illusion felt good. 

Clamp Campus, Tokyo, 
Imonoyama Mansion 
December 29, 1999 - 07:28 

Seishiro woke suddenly, tense, skimming the dim room through carefully lowered lashes, not for the first time cursing his impaired eyesight. Something touched him. The heat of a living body was warming his side; even breathing spoke of someone sound asleep. A hand, fingers spread wide, had slipped onto his skin beneath his pyjama jacket. 
     Subaru, huddled against him in a small, defensive ball, if not for the forward hand that slid down to his waist when Seishiro propped himself on one elbow to study his "guest" more closely.  
     He had contemplated a similar setting once or twice, though admittedly under considerably less dramatic circumstances. The Emperor's Murderer was a spirit he hadn't been keen on taking on. He had to find out how it had been able to leave its prison despite the rune seal. Even the presence of another powerful onmyoji in the house shouldn't have had an effect; certainly not in what little time Subaru had taken to access and read the files. 
     He replayed the events of yesterday in his mind... 
     Subaru's whispered "yes..." when his attention had already been on the screen again. The open line with the faint sizzle of the scrambling component that prevented magic from entering his house via the phone. The sudden thud of the receiver, the sound of footsteps leaving the room. Seishiro had called but there had been no reaction, and then the screams had come. 
     That was when he'd dropped the phone and run. 
     Frustrated, Seishiro ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. That didn't explain what had happened. He looked down on the sleeping Sumeragi, noting how lamentably the silky strands of his hair had been cropped. "I doubt your sister would have approved of this," he mused, brushing his hand through the short strands, earning himself an involuntary mumble as Subaru huddled even closer. "Neither do I."
     The bright green LCD numbers on the alarm read 07:36. Seishiro's eyes wandered back to the sleeping figure curled up next to him. Subaru in a wrinkled yukata wasn't dangerous and the warmth of his body was pleasant. Too pleasant. Seishiro didn't want to get up and that was dangerous. 
     He pushed himself up and rolled out of bed. Behind him, Subaru, bereft of his heat source, moaned and snuggled into the dent he'd left. Seishiro shook his head. Cute. 

Ten minutes later, he was on his way to the breakfast room. Imonoyama breakfasts were a distinctly Western affair with bread and coffee instead of the traditional Miso soup and rice dishes. Seishiro secretly hoped that the Inamura Shozo patisserie near his house had survived the year. He would certainly miss hot bakeries for breakfast otherwise. 
     The distinct aroma of fresh baked buns and steaming coffee welcomed him in the door. The table was already set, though Nokoru was nowhere in sight. The benefit of having a functional set of house servants. If not for the required secrecy... 
     Ah well, couldn't be helped. Seishiro slipped into a chair and claimed one of the still-warm buns to cut it deftly in half. Butter...? 
     People approached in the corridor. Suoh, arguing in an agitated voice with someone who could only be Nokoru. It seemed like his security advice was being ignored yet again. Seishiro smirked as he proceeded to butter his bun. Breakfast with entertainment. 
     "No, I'm not going to leave you alone with him again!" 
     "But Nagisa-san– " 
     "She knows about my family's duty!" 
     "Surely even your wife would like to see her husband once in a while." 
     "Nokoru! He leaped out of the helicopter at fifteen meters above ground and walked away from it! There's no chance that he's not the Sak–" 
     Nokoru's hand clamped hard over Suoh's mouth. "Hello, Sei. How are you?" 
     "Good morning, 'koru. Splendid," Seishiro stated cheerfully. "I hope you don't mind that I started. I'm ravenous after last night."
     "It seems Sumeragi-san has left us," Nokoru said quietly, taking his seat opposite Seishiro with Suoh as usual in between them. "He couldn't be found anywhere in the house. Do we have to worry about that?" 
     "No." Seishiro put the half-eaten bun down and poured himself a black coffee. 
     "He might tell the Kamui," Nokoru reminded him, taking the coffee pot from him. 
     "He won't." Seishiro added sugar to his coffee and stirred it leisurely, before he inhaled its sweet yet slightly bitter tang. 
     Nokoru raised his own filled cup. "Are you sure about that?" 
     "Yes." Seishiro took a tentative sip. "He's in my bed." 
     Nokoru's coffee went down the wrong throat. Suoh hurried to pat his back. 
     "Strong magic has its side-effects, 'koru." Seishiro remarked casually. "Though somebody might go and get him. Considering recent events, I doubt we can let him skip any meals." 

"Sumeragi-san. How nice of you to join us." Imonoyama smiled, and indicated the remaining free chair at the table. "You slept well?" He exchanged a contemplative glance with Seishiro. 
     "Y–yes."  
     Seishiro hid his smirk behind his coffee cup. Subaru's blush at the silent implication was really too cute. 
     "I apologize for my inappropriate attire, Imonoyama-san. But my clothes–" 
     "–are still being washed." Nokoru waved it aside. "Don't worry." 
     Seishiro wondered if it could be enhanced. "I'd rather have you in my bed in a clean yukata than in a dirty suit, anyway... or better, out of a clean yukata–" 
     "Stop right there!" Subaru glared at him. 
     "Now, now. Who spent the night with whom?" 
     "I think I have to apologize for the embarrassment, Sumeragi-san." Nokoru's fan flipped, slightly agitated. "Sei, it was easier to find clothes fitting you on short notice two months ago because you have the same size as my physician." 
     "Not that I needed much anyway," Seishiro said casually. "Stuck in bed as I was until the wounds were closed." He touched his chest in mock drama, noting Subaru's slight wince at the gesture with satisfaction. "All alone." 
     "Just with a firm set of handcuffs." Suoh reached for a glass with red jam.  
     "Which I returned immediately because they didn't match the décor." Seishiro pointedly indicated the empty chair to his right. "Aren't you here to eat, Subaru-kun?"
     "Maybe he doesn't want to share a table with the so-called Sakurazukamori who might just be spying on his next victim," Takamura quipped. Nokoru and Subaru both froze and stared at Seishiro. 
     "Really, Suoh, don't be childish," Seishiro sighed with mock patience, watching how Subaru hesitatingly sat down. "If I were that bogey-man, would I spend more than two months at Nokoru's before finishing him off?" He buttered the other half of his bun and bit heartily into it. "It seems an awful waste of time to me," he added after chewing. 
     "It is said that the Sakurazukamori chased his prey a whole year once," Suoh pointed out sternly. "Do you have any information about that, Sumeragi-san?" 
     "R–really?" Subaru reached for a slice of bread before he looked wide-eyed at Takamura. "Whatever would make him do that?" He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Do you think he could maybe have become infatuated with his prey and–" He winced when Seishiro firmly kicked his shin under the table.
     "I cannot believe that you don't know about the affair!" Suoh's fierce look rested on Subaru, who busied himself with his bread, an annoying little smirk around his half-hidden lips. "It's–" 
     "Really, Taka-chan." Seishiro intervened calmly. Next to him, Subaru suffered a coughing fit at the diminutive. "How on earth would Subaru-kun know that? He's the Sumeragi Head. He and the Sakurazukamori, they've been arch-enemies for centuries." Under the table he took revenge by trailing his foot up along Subaru's leg. "Nokoru, before I forget. I owe you a set of Laguiole steak knives." Subaru pressed his knees together in a vain attempt to stop his foot from advancing further. "Remind me about that when all this is over, please." 
     "A set? How did you lose six knives?" 
     "I didn't." Seishiro wriggled his toes against Subaru's inner thigh, examining the jam pot in front of him, while secretly observing the deepening blush with satisfaction. "But they are no longer in a condition to be used at the table." The silence was complete for a couple of heartbeats.
     "Keep them," Nokoru said at last. "Consider them my contribution to Sumer– uh– Japan's rescue." 
     Seishiro freed his foot with a decisive twist and ran his toes slowly along the side of Subaru's heel. A narrow foot connected painfully with his ankle. "Thank you," Seishiro nodded politely, and with a last brush along a slender, hastily retreating calf that earned him a second kick hooked his foot under his own chair. "Is there still honey somewhere?" Suoh reluctantly handed the honey jar over and Seishiro added a thick cover of honey to his third half-bun this morning. "Now that's cleared up, did anything interesting happen while we were indisposed?" 
     "Another earthquake, more flooding downtown–" Nokoru ticked it off.
     Seishiro waved it aside. "Saw that yesterday from the helicopter." He shrugged and sipped at his coffee. "Anything not expected?" 
     "Kishuu-san disappeared overnight," Takamura said in a low voice. "She is nowhere to be found." 
     "Yes," Nokoru nodded. "Arisugawa-san is most upset about it. It seems like their relationship wasn't entirely professional in the end." 
     "Kishuu..." Seishiro frowned. "The Ise-girl? There was no fight involving her, right?" 
     Subaru looked up. "Nataku died the day before yesterday, when I... came here." He searched Seishiro's eyes. "Could she be Nataku's opposite? Like I am yours?" 
     "Quite possible," he nodded.
     "But... Kishuu-san and Nataku?" Nokoru frowned. "What could be represented by them?" 
     "Ego," Seishiro said dryly. "Don't know the girl, but Nataku had none." 
     "Kishuu-san is a very centered person, resting deep within herself," Subaru said calmly. "So Ego fits. You think she's been called to become a Dragon of Earth instead of Nataku?" 
     "I wouldn't be surprised." Seishiro's eyes held Subaru's gaze. "After all, you were called to take my place after they presumed me dead." 
     "It still doesn't make sense to me that when an Angel is killed, the corresponding Seal should have to fill the position." Subaru shook his head. "The ancient chronicles said nothing in that regard, and it doesn't work from a Christian point of view, either." 
     "Think of the original definition. Yin stands for passivity, for consolidation. The change is Yang's domain." Seishiro smirked. "Not only in tarot cards is Death the symbol for the ultimate change." 
     Subaru nodded. "So if the contest on one level is decided by death–" 
     "–it's automatically claimed by the Angels, no matter who dies." Seishiro sipped at his coffee. "But you're right, it's the Christian faith behind most of the superstitions around 1999 that causes the problems. More precisely, it's inherent fatalism of a world-wide battle, Good versus Evil, to be won once and for all." 
     "Because of it, it's no longer about whether Yin or Yang govern the various planes, but about one destroying the other. But Yin and Yang form the Whole, the Dao; each cannot exist without the other. So if one destroys the other, there will be nothing left–" 
     "–never mind who wins," Seishiro nodded. "Kind of beside the point of the whole thing, don't you think?" 
     "Yes. If one side wins, that is." Subaru sighed. "We have to talk with the two Kamui–"
     "Forget it," Seishiro snorted. "I don't know about yours, but talking sense into mine is a waste of time." 
     "Kamui will listen, he–" 
     "And he has such a successful record of keeping his counterpart from doing anything! How long do you think the Twin Star will listen to him before he declares the final battle started and slices him up? Five seconds?" He shook his head. "I'd say keep them apart till New Year's Eve." 
     "I don't think we could hold a Kamui when he's called to the final battle," Subaru sighed. "But there is no mention of a deadline in previous fights of this kind, so we might be able to prevent a decision." Subaru pushed his plate away and rested his elbows on the table to lean his chin against his folded hands. "You and I, we're the Spiritual that connects the Divine with everything else. If we forgo a decision, even if the Divine between the two Kamui is decided, then..." 
     "We have a reasonable chance that the whole thing will be nullified." 
     "At least not enacted." Subaru lowered his head till his nose rested on his fingers. "Or that the system reverts to what it's supposed to be, a contest to decide the balance between Yin and Yang on the spiritual planes." 
     "1999 will last only two more days. We'll see what happens then." Seishiro put his napkin onto his plate and stood. "If you'll excuse me, there's an issue I have to look into now." 

Subaru closed the library door quietly. The curtains had been pulled back and most of the spacious room was flooded by daylight. It wasn't bright, but sufficient. He put the letter paper he'd obtained down onto a table beneath one of the windows, and took a seat on the edge of the armchair in front of it.  
     Since he would be dealing with magical matters, he first brushed the paper slowly from top to bottom for ritual cleansing, then carefully marked the corners of the sheet with the symbols for the four protectors. Afterwards, he put his name, rank, and position in the upper left corner, together with a brief summary of what would be found on the paper and the formal warning of magical content written by a practitioner. He enclosed the traditional header in a thin double line and placed his family's sigil in the top right corner. 
     Bowing his head over the prepared sheet, Subaru concentrated on what he knew about the layout of Clamp campus; what Imonoyama, what his grandmother had told him over the years, what he'd seen of it himself, in reality and on the maps. He envisioned the form, the structure, the items of power placed within it to direct its forces, the implied meanings of these items. When the image was clear on the inside of his closed eyes, he looked up, took the pen, and began to draw. 
     He drew precisely as he had been taught: added brief summaries to the marked items, indicated the position of the shinken, the central plaza, Imonoyama's house, even the speed and direction of the subways. No unneeded line, no spot or blotch marred the page as he placed his sigil underneath when he was done. 
     Subaru put the pen, carefully closed, at the top of the sheet and rested his chin in his right hand, trying to discover what made it possible for the Sakurazukamori to enter. What was it that not only allowed him to prosper within the largest, most active Sumeragi sigil that had ever been built but that also seemed to hide him from even the Kamui's perception? 
     Subaru frowned. There had been something... recently. During Seishiro's battle against the spirit in his body... Subaru's eyes involuntarily wandered to the scar on the back of his left hand. The spirit had drawn the pentagram scar as pentacle, putting Intention above Reality, Spirit above Matter... Subaru stopped, straightened. What if...? 
     He turned his drawing on the table in front of him until he was looking at a pentagram. He blinked. In reality, he would be standing in front of the main gate near Station One now. He turned the page again, looked – metaphorically – through the entrance gate near station Three: pentagram; the gate at station Four: pentagram. There were no gates at stations Two and Five because they faced the waterfront, but even there a tip of the pentacle touched the subway ring: pentagram. 
     The pentagram with its two tips above one stood for Matter above Spirit, Reality over Intention; both, Matter and Reality, were represented by dualities. The two strongest dualities he'd come across were Life and Death and Flesh and Blood. He had learned as much when he'd tried to figure out Seishiro's magic.  
     Every time the subway travelled around and through the campus it drew the pentacle: intention. 
     Everybody entering or leaving the campus marked it a pentagram: reality. 
     Human beings with their current life and future death, their flesh and their blood were the perfect embodiment of the two dualities. That they were unaware of this and of the pentagram they were marking had no significance for the Sakurazuka. 
     The sigil of the Sakurazuka was superimposed on the sigil of the Sumeragi. 
     The campus was both. 
     Pentacle by intention. 
     Pentagram by reality. 
     His grandmother and no doubt countless other spiritual counsellors had made a mistake in their disdain for the dark onmyojutsu the Sakurazuka practised. Intention didn't matter to the Sakurazukamori; only reality counted.
     Subaru shook his head, got up and looked out onto the real campus, lying grey under the constant drizzle. It was one of the things that had surprised him most. The Sakurazukamori fought with lies and illusions, but his work relied solely on truth and reality, hard and painful without any cushioning for the hunted... or the hunter. 
     He was strangely tempted to laugh. His grandmother had scolded him so for his 'interest in dark magic' but because of it, he was seeing now. The construction of the campus had begun before he was even born. Subaru sank down onto the cushioned windowsill and pulled one leg up, resting his chin on it. The Sumeragi power stored in the campus was used to protect the shinken until the Final Day; but the Sakurazuka power served no purpose. It was all here, forming a diffuse background that outshone the personal signature of the Sakurazukamori like a floodlight a candle flame, hiding Seishiro even from the Kamui. His eyes followed the raindrops trailing down over the pane. He shivered. 

Behind him, the library door opened. Silence. The door closed. After a few moments, faint steps came closer. Imonoyama took his time to cross the room and claim the other half of the window sill. In a mirror-image of Subaru, he pulled one leg up, laid his arms around it.  
     "I think I have to tell you something about Sakurazuka Seishiro, Sumeragi-san," he said calmly, waiting for Subaru to finally acknowledge him. "He is competitive to the core. He doesn't perceive anything that doesn't challenge him." 
     Subaru's eyes returned to the rain. "Why are you telling me that?" 
     "I've known him for twenty years. I've spent the last eight weeks in his company, and the last two days." Subaru stayed silent. After a moment, Imonoyama sighed and got up. "Let's just say I had a hard time missing the exchange at the breakfast table." 
     "I don't know what you mean," Subaru said quietly, cursing the warmth in his cheeks as he looked after his leaving host. "We had a fairly civil conversation." 
     "Interesting, that you have to limit it to the 'conversation'" Imonoyama reached for the door. 
     "Imonoyama-san." Subaru's voice stopped the man. "How do you happen to know him?" 
     Imonoyama didn't turn, when he answered he spoke against the door. "We were in the same class." 
     "A lot of people were, I'm sure." 
     "I'm a dangerous person to know, Sumeragi-san. To be friends with me means to be a target for whoever tries to force my family to support their plans either through influence or money." He drew a deep breath. "There were several attempts to abduct me when I was younger; later they tried to use those I hold dear to blackmail me. I learned early that to be friends with me endangered these friends, so I kept my distance." 
     "Takamura-san being the exception?" 
     "Yes, Suoh and Akira being the exceptions since elementary school." He hesitated, looked finally back. 
     "I don't think that anybody could use Seishiro and survive," Subaru said quietly. 
     "Exactly." The door closed behind Imonoyama. 

The door to the study stood open. A computer was running, the bluish glow of the monitor competing with the artificial lights from the ceiling and the grey light from outside the high, arced window. Subaru hesitated. 
     Seishiro occupied a swivel chair, one leg drawn up, sitting leisurely on his foot, balancing a large, linen-bound book on his bent knee while leaning forward to scribble something on a notepad that lay in a precarious balance on more open books. The computer keyboard stood askew, partially on one of the books, partially covered by the notepad. 
     More, even larger books, also open, lay on the floor surrounding the chair. Seishiro actually seemed to be using the big toe of his free foot to keep a passage marked in one of them. Countless notes and papers covered the workplace, secured with pins, office utensils, and... cookies?! Subaru blinked. A row of painted runes was taped to the side of the monitor, fluttering in the occasional breeze from a window not fully closed despite the constant drizzle outside. 
     The white shirt that had been impeccable over black pants at the breakfast table was again casually open at the collar, the cuffs unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up over the forearms. The ceiling lights caught in the slightly tinted glasses that had slipped down to the tip of his nose as his eyes flew over the narrow, neat lines of text. Left to right. Left to right... 
     Hesitation. The hint of a frown appeared under the slightly tousled hair. Seishiro heaved the book off his knees onto the desk and retrieved the one under his foot from the floor, searching rapidly through the passage he'd held with his toe. The frown deepened. He tapped a sharp fingernail onto the text and raised his head to look out into the rain. 
     Subaru swallowed. Seishiro didn't look like an onmyoji, he looked like... a teacher, a– 
     "Subaru-kun." Seishiro didn't turn, his voice a deceptive, velvety soft caress. "How did you happen to bleed on my basement door?" 

"I'm going to have a word with that shrub," Seishiro muttered under his breath. "It can't send whoever strolls past into my bed!" Subaru shifted his weight uncomfortably at the comment. He hadn't mentioned that. "Go on." Seishiro tapped impatiently onto the book still lying on his knees. 
     "The door sizzled. I tried to gauge the spell, when–" He pushed up the sleeve to show the bandage still covering his wrist. The sudden attention he saw in Seishiro's face was disconcerting. "It was as if your marks were pulling me downstairs and–" 
     Seishiro stood, left the thick book behind on the chair. "Let me see the wounds," he demanded. 
     Warily, Subaru undid the bandages. Seishiro pulled the wrist into the lamplight, turned it around to study the three scabbed-over slashes closely. His hand lay warm on Subaru's palm, close to the wounds but safely on uninjured skin. Subaru remembered the sudden pain of the cold tearing the wounds without any real touch.
     "You weren't drawn by my marks," Seishiro stated calmly, still examining the wounds. "In fact, they were keeping you safe the first time until your blood deactivated Thurisaz ." 
     "Thurs–?" Subaru stumbled over the unfamiliar word. 
     "The Thorn. A protection rune meant to keep nosy visitors at bay." Seishiro shook his head. "You have to pay for access as well as departure with your blood." 
     "Which a spirit doesn't have." 
     "At least not until you came into the picture somehow. Here. The deepest cut is near the pulse." Seishiro indicated the slash at the inside of his wrist. "He wanted the blood to spray." 
     Subaru pulled his hand close after Seishiro released it. "Who is he?" 
     "The Emperor's Murderer." After a moment, Seishiro clarified: "Sushun's murderer. But why did the rune accept your blood for his?" 
     Subaru felt freezingly cold. "I think I know..." He almost flinched at the intense stare those faint words earned him. "There's something Yue-san wrote in his chronicle. About him being forced to bind the spirit so that he could not be reborn and his shell could be the vessel for a different soul the next time it walked the earth." Subaru hesitatingly stretched his hands into the light. "What... if this is his body after all? If I am... the replacement?" 
     "That would certainly explain it. "Seishiro leaned against the desk, crossing his legs casually at the ankles. "Those wounds look deep enough to provide the amount of blood the Emperor's Murderer needed for his release." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I should have set a larger quantity." 
     "Why didn't you?" 
     "You have to offer the same quantity in the evocation – in addition to what the rune itself takes for being called – and frankly, I didn't think his body would be around in my lifetime." He kicked the paper bin in annoyance. "Yue should have gone after that sister of his and tied up the loose ends properly." 
     "S– sister?" Subaru straightened. "Don't tell me–" 
     "Where do you think your clan comes from?" Seishiro asked mockingly. "Did you grow in a field? But then, your books begin conveniently late in your clan's history." 
     "They start with the acknowledgment of our family at court. With the foundation of the Onmyo-ryo." Subaru stiffened.
     "Which is near the end of Suiko's reign, a timely thirty years after Sushun's unfortunate demise." Seishiro shrugged. "But I'm not surprised that you don't know that. Your clan has a tradition of ignoring what doesn't fit into their neat black and white categorizations – like a killed emperor in the closet or the sacrificed sister of a clan head." 
     "Keep Hokuto-chan out of this! She's got nothing to do with it!" 
     "She doesn't?" Seishiro asked, arching a brow. "Did they never tell you why she died?" 
     "She died because you murdered her!" Subaru balled his fists against the old pain. "In my stead!" 
     "Sorry to tell you, Subaru-kun." Seishiro pushed himself off the desk, caught his clenched fists before Subaru could retreat, forced the glowing pentagram scars up into the light. "But by these marks, I own your death, not hers. Hers is of no significance to me. Because of these, you survived your ancestor's claim of your body. And in spite of these, I'll let you live!"
     Subaru jerked his hands free. 
     The Sakurazukamori studied him briefly out of cold, narrowed eyes. "In your place, I'd ask myself why my magically inept sister had to ask my arch-enemy to spill her blood for her magic to work. The Sumeragi are a powerful clan, Subaru-kun. Don't you think there should have been a relative to lend her a hand?" 
     Subaru stared for several heartbeats at the wood panels, vibrating from the suppressed force with which Seishiro had closed the door in front of his nose until the last words, the dismissal registered.  
     No. Not again. The door banged against the wall as he rushed out. "Wait!" The Sakurazukamori kept walking. "Wait for me!" Without as much as looking back. "We aren't done yet!" Not even a shrug. 
     Subaru's steps faltered. The distance increased; Seishiro had almost arrived at his rooms, was reaching for the door already.  
     Competitive. Imonoyama's calm voice said in Subaru's thoughts.  
     "Are you running away from me?" 
     Seishiro stopped in his tracks. 

He caught the Sumeragi's throat in his hand, pushing him back to make his point. "A warning. Letting you live is one thing, sparing you is another." 
     Subaru grabbed the hand around his throat. "Maybe I don't want... to be spared." Anger shone in his dark eyes. The narrow fingers clasping Seishiro's wrist sizzled with a power equalling his own. "Maybe I want this settled." 
     Seishiro broke the offending hold easily. The slender wrist was hot in his grip as he turned it, forcing Subaru backward into the next room. It wouldn't do to have this out in the open. It was small, one of the minor guest rooms. A neat stack of clean clothes lay on a table beneath the window: folded pants, black buckled top, underwear... Subaru's room, how fitting. He slammed the door shut behind them. "This isn't the time for that."  
     "Because of the final battle?" Subaru glared at him. "This has got nothing to do with it. This started sixteen years ago under that cursed tree of yours!" 
     "Or fourteen-hundred years ago when Yue didn't finish his business."  
     "Do you want to finish it now?" Subaru stood close, too close. "You made a good start in 1990. I wonder why you let it slide." There was power behind those eyes, power and anger and something entirely too close to sorrow. Subaru had wanted to die on Rainbow Bridge. That wasn't acceptable! 
     "You were closer to destroying my family than Yue-san ever got." 
     Seishiro pushed him back in annoyance. "What's there to destroy of a house whose head has wanted to die ever since he learned that the world isn't pretty in pink?" 
     "I don't–" 
     "So you didn't want to die on that bridge as you told me? You didn't lie back and await Yue's judgement in the Kokyo Gaien?" Subaru flinched under the rapid questions. "What is it that you want from me? Your death? Too bad that right now it would endanger the state we're both sworn to protect. So what is it, Subaru-kun? What are you really? Dead or alive?" 
     "I–" 
     "Is this about you or your sister?" 
     "My sister is dead. I am alive!" Green eyes widened in shock at the outcry. "I–" Seishiro's hand closed Subaru's mouth.  
     "Good answer," he purred next to Subaru's ear. "Keep it in mind." He tipped Subaru's head back, searching his reflection in those wide, frightened eyes. "Life can be a lot more interesting than death." 
     Subaru averted his eyes, Seishiro forced his gaze back to himself. Erratic breaths fanned over the back of his hand, Subaru leaned into the touch, closing his eyes.  
     Annoyed, Seishiro hardened his grip. "See," he demanded. 
     Subaru shivered. "No. I won't. I–" He twisted free, retreated till he slammed against the table with the clothes stack. "You don't understand–" 
     "Then make me." 
     "No!" Subaru turned away from him, his hands clasping the edge as if to keep him from falling. He stood shaking, head hanging low, breathing in sharp, hard gasps as if he had been running. The grip was hard enough for the knuckles on the slender hands to stand out stark white. "No. I..." Subaru whimpered, breathless. "...can't. I–"  
     Seishiro closed in slowly, calmly, caught him against the table's edge, their images overlapping in the mirror of the window pane, as he cupped Subaru's chin from behind, working his thumb in between Subaru's lips, forcing them open. 
     "Please..." A moan against his hand. "Don't..." 
     Subaru's flight from himself was going to end here and now. Seishiro undid the knot of the yukata sash with a sharp jerk. Subaru's shaking was enough for the soft cloth to come loose. "I want you to see–" He slowly forced Subaru to look up again. "–precisely what's being done to you." His fingers pressed against the exquisitely racing pulse in Subaru's throat, his thumb brushed the trembling lips. "And who is doing it to you." The mismatched eyes finally met his narrowed stare in the reflection on the window glass. "No self-deceptions, my dear."  
     A low, frightened whisper. "Help me..." 

He almost felt something breaking, some frayed barrier giving way; the narrow body in his arms arched back, falling against him, twisted, turned; his lips were claimed, bitten; arms slung around him, hands clawing into his shirt; cloth was torn– Seishiro staggered under the impact, connected with the edge of the bed, tumbling. 
     Blood in his mouth. Frantic hands on his skin, clawing into his hair, his face, tearing his glasses off. He caught slender, barely healed wrists in a violent grip before the nails reached his eyes. 
     "Yes..." Subaru's voice was husky, desperate. "Yes..." Tears fell onto Seishiro's face, their salt burning on his bitten lips as he turned the two of them over.  
     "Calm down!" He forced the hands away, pinned them above Subaru's head. "You–" 
     "Please..." The word was lost in the harsh, ragged breaths that followed. 
     Seishiro studied him closely. Subaru certainly didn't see, didn't seem to hear him either. He remembered the fright in those mismatched eyes, realized with displeasure that this had happened before. Subaru had known what was coming. Seishiro listened to uneven sobs. Wherever the Sumeragi was right now, he was alone there, alone and scared. 
     Tears trailed over the pale cheeks as he held him down, talked to him, calmly, persistently, words without sense, using all his strength to maintain control over the writhing body; Subaru's frantic moves a sensual assault all of its own. It seemed to take forever until just a flicker of recognition appeared in those wild, abandoned eyes, but even then restraint was lost when Seishiro claimed him. Subaru's teeth caught around his collarbone, biting down hard, breaking the skin. Blunt nails carved into his back; they too drawing blood. 
     He'd never expected to see the shy Sumeragi like that, lost in sensations, his eyes glazed with lust. Deliciously tight heat. No words any more. The hoarse gasps of a body blindly driven to the edge by its own need even more than his thrusts. Subaru would be sore in the morning. Closer. Deeper. Slender legs clamped around his waist, desperately pulling him in. 
     Salt. Blood. Pain. Heat. Head thrown back into damp sheets, pulse exposed. Hands in his hair. Legs sliding down his back, falling limp. Sobbed breaths. Exhaustion. Darkness. 

December 30, 1999  

He looked down onto the sleeping man between the stained, rumpled sheets of his bed as he closed the last buckle on his shoulder and pulled the gloves back over his hands. He was aching. It was a familiar ache, and a familiar shame. 
     The call to Judgement, to Tokyo Tower for the final battle was churning in the back of his head. Still faint, distant, but its strength was increasing. It meant they had failed. 
     He threw the grey cape around his shoulders and hid his face in the hood. 
     After a long last look, he averted his eyes and slipped out the door.  
     "Sayonara, Seishiro-san." 

to be continued in
36°-X: Decagram

Notes:
Azusa Nagisa, Takamura Suoh's girlfriend. In Clamp Campus Detectives book 2: File 7.
Thurisaz (modern translation: Thorn). Rune.
     Symbol: Thor's hammer lying on its side, and the thorn from a rose bush. 
     Concept: Protection from one's own folly, when one is unable for oneself to influence the situation for yourself. The ability to circumvent problems before they get out of hand. Thorn gives a distinct warning that can involve injury depending on the way the rune is evoked.