Hanami season. The Tree watched its current Sakurazukamori unfold a canvas chair next to its broad trunk, followed by a cozy blanket. Seishiro took a thermos flask and a graphic novel out of his camping bag, poured himself a steaming coffee, and settled down comfortably.
The Tree recalled a hanami Sunday twenty years ago, when he had turned up with a ghetto blaster and cleared not only the Tree's immediate vicinity, but the area around the next three trees, too. The park department had not been amused. And a few years later, there'd been the warning about a truck load of pig dung to be spread around it, should it decide 'not to behave' while Seishiro was writing his doctoral thesis. It doubted that Seishiro would go that far — the aroma wouldn't go well with Armani — but it had preferred not to put it to the test. Seishiro was capable of surprises.
Seishiro. His hair was ruffled by a light breeze that also tugged at the pages of his novel, while the park was already filling with young salarymen out to claim the best hanami places for their companies. More than one strode purposefully in their direction, only to stop in his tracks when Seishiro raised his eyes from the book to glare at him. Taken. Claimed.
The Tree's branches rustled in amusement.
It was tempted to show its Sakurazukamori how wrong that notion was, how... inappropriate a view of their relation, but it abstained from touching, even from teasing him today. The events remembered the night before were still too vibrant in his mind.
Too bad he wouldn't let it have one of the tasty sake-seasoned morsels that would swarm the park soon in the wake of their junior employees. Idly, the Tree wondered if Yue would have permitted it at least one, once a year.
Laughing Yue, who'd lain in its branches, and in an Empress's bed.
Wary Seishiro, who'd needed its shelter so badly, and never trusted it.
Blossoms fluttered, desiring to touch. It had been a strange experience to protect a guardian who was de facto too young for his position at the time of succession, and the Tree wasn't yet sure it understood the way looking out for him had changed it. And now, Sei-chan was forced to lie with the enemy...
The Tree's branches quivered and a gust of petals fluttered down on Seishiro, his book, and—
"Stop shedding in my coffee, will you!"
Ueno-Sakuragi-cho, Tokyo
April 2, 2000 — 08:26
It was a quiet morning; Subaru sat in the kitchen, having green tea and toast with lime jelly for breakfast. Seishiro had, to Subaru's surprise, already been gone when he'd woken up twenty minutes ago. There was soup for him on the cooker, but he'd decided not to warm it. He remembered the last time too well. There was a reason why he always did the dishes and Seishiro the cooking. Come to think of it, the main house probably thought him on a fasting spree by now, considering the lack of food on his bills.
He bit into the toast and scanned the Sunday paper. The headlines were still filled with the eruption of Mount Usu and the evacuation of over 9000 people in its vicinity. Subaru wondered briefly which kami was responsible for Hokkaido volcanoes and if they were the same the Ainu worshiped as Kamuy...
Subaru's neck hair tingled and he quickly turned the page. A low electronic beeping announced an incoming phone call on his number. Who...? He quickly went into the bedroom to take it.
=This is deputy minister Ishido. I'd like to speak with Sumeragi Subaru-san.=
"I am on the line, Ishido-san. How may I help you?"
=Sumeragi-san?= There was relief in the voice on the other end. =I am to inform you that Premier Minister Obuchi Keizo suffered a serious stroke yesterday. We are concerned that his condition is connected with the apparition you are planning to exorcise.=
"My deep sympathy for Premier Obuchi." Subaru barely stopped himself from bowing at the phone. "May I ask if the Premier suffered the stroke at the Diet Building?"
=No, I've been told it happened at his residence over breakfast.=
"The residence is next to the Diet, right?" Subaru asked quietly.
=Yes, why?=
"I can't say for sure yet, Deputy. The apparition was spotted as far away as the NDL. Though I found no spiritual traces near the Premier's residence before, I can't say with complete certainty that it is not within the specter's sphere of influence. I will go and look into it right now." Subaru ran a hand through his hair, already going over the preparations necessary for this emergency. "How may I reach you later?" He wrote down the set of numbers Ishido told him and ended the call. His thoughts raced. If the specter was responsible, he was responsible. He had neglected his duties.
He hurried to prepare himself.
Nagata-cho, Tokyo
National Diet Building
10:56 (Sunday)
It was warm for the second day of April. Subaru walked slowly up the widely curved driveway back towards the main entrance of the National Diet Building, feeling stupid in his black sweater with its neck rolled up to his ears. The sun glittered on the light stones of the building and the clean scrubbed pavement reflected its heat, making it even hotter — almost like summer. A summer he'd never expected to see...
He had spent the better part of the last hour circling the Diet Building, searching for any change in its spiritual energy, but all he found was the strong, melodic humming of its kekkai calling out to him and a few diffuse traces of the apparition he was to exorcise tomorrow. The prime minister's residence had held no spiritual signature — if he discounted the slightly disdainful vibes coming from the head security officer who'd guided him through the property.
He'd reached the top of the driveway, turned his back to the building, and looked out over the Diet Front Park, a sea of pink blossoms beyond the mostly deserted parking lot. The sakura were in full bloom and the park was already crowded with people, milling in thick throngs along its paths and around its innocent trees. Hanami season; he'd almost forgotten about it. Briefly, he wondered if Seishiro had been up and about that early because of it, but then... it wasn't as if the Sakura had seasons, was it?
The vicinity of the Diet Building itself was nearly deserted — just as he'd hoped. If he didn't need access to the underground facilities, he'd be tempted to perform the ritual now, when no representatives were around, but as things were—
At least, there was no indication that the apparition was involved in prime minister Obuchi's stroke. He left the relatively cool shadow of the building, taking the broad stairs down to street level. Leaves whispered in the meticulously pruned trees and bushes that grew on both sides of the stairs. His boots tapped faintly on the pale stones and—
A choked sound stopped him. He tensed, listened — then he quickly took the last steps down and crossed into the shadows under the trees, his fingers already closing around an ofuda in his coat pocket. If there was a physical manifestation now—
He blinked in the deep shadow among the greenery. Neat stone casings framed the tree beds. On the one deepest in the shadows, a youth in a school uniform that had seen better days sat curled in on himself on the cold stones. He was resting his head on his drawn up knees with his arms slung around them. A few scattered sakura petals stuck in his scruffy dark brown hair—
"Kamui?"
The head flew up. Wide eyes stared at him in panic, and an odd part of Subaru's mind reminded him that Kamui had nothing of a Kamuy about him, though technically he wielded most of the power the Ainu ascribed to their gods.
"Subaru." The boy slumped back into his previous posture.
He let go of the ofuda. "Why are you—?"
There was a defensive line around Kamui's mouth that he remembered all too well, and the boy radiated distress. Something was wrong, but surely the apparition wasn't strong enough to force Kamui—
"You weren't called, were you?" Subaru asked.
"Called? Not that I know of." Kamui shrugged. "It's a nice day. Sunny."
"Sunny, yes." And you are sitting in the shadow. "But why are you here?"
"What about you, what are you doing here?" Kamui returned.
"There's a ghost haunting the Diet. I've come to make sure it doesn't pose a threat until I can exorcise it tomorrow."
"Working on a hanami Sunday." Kamui drew a face. "That sucks."
Subaru shrugged. "It's not as if I set much store by sakura blossoms."
Kamui gave him a wry smile. "Right."
Wind ruffled the trees reaching up above the driveway. A wave of half-withered petals was blown against Kamui's legs and Subaru's boots: palest pink tinged with brown. Kamui didn't move.
"Mind if I sit as well?" Subaru asked. Kamui shrugged and he took a seat next to him on the stone encasing. A pigeon cooed, likely tripping around its mate somewhere on the driveway. It was cool here. The sun hadn't reached this spot yet and the cold of the stones was creeping through his coat and pants. How long had Kamui been sitting here? Concerned, Subaru threw a brief glance at him. Kamui was staring blindly ahead. He looked pale; and a summer school uniform was thinner than what Subaru himself was wearing.
"How about we go into the sun?"
"I'm okay here." Kamui didn't even raise his chin from his knees when he answered.
"But I'm cold." Subaru shivered demonstrably.
"Oh. Right." Kamui clambered unusually stiff to his feet. Was he that chilled through or—?
"Kamui?" Subaru asked quietly. "Are you hurt?"
"The Twin Star got me in the leg yesterday." Kamui shrugged. "It's nothing."
He was a little too nonchalant for Subaru to buy it. "Is it bad?"
"Just a stab. I've had worse last year."
"Stab wounds can be tricky." Subaru worried. "If it gets infected—"
"I'm a Kamui, remember? It's not as if destiny will let me off the hook that easily."
"You shouldn't rely on that. What if—?"
Kamui huffed. "And? What would it change?" Stalking into the sunlight, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, he prattled on. "Look, I'm just here because I needed a break from it all; and Fuma's sleeping in today, so there's no reason to hang around the shrine all day. I didn't expect to run into any of the others."
Others. Subaru said nothing. Kamui raised his shoulders against the breeze. The collar gaped briefly and Subaru spotted bare skin and finger-shaped black bruises underneath. "How long have you been here?" he asked, forcing himself to remain casual.
"Don't know." Another shrug. "A few hours. Why?"
"You look pretty frozen. How about warm tea at my place?"
"Your place? I don't think—"
"At least there the seats have cushions." Subaru tried to joke, but Kamui seemed unconvinced. "And we could talk about what happened since January."
"Talk?" Kamui frowned.
Subaru gave him a wry smile. "I'm sorry that I haven't been in touch more."
"Yeah, me too."
~:~:~:~:~
Ueno Park, Tokyo,
11:08
...Look at the fat one, Sei-chan... the Tree complained. ...he cheated on his wife with his secretary and on his secretary with the office girl last week and...
"Adultery is still not punishable by death," Seishiro commented dryly, turning another page. "Fat, drunk, or not." He studied the stark black-and-white drawings on the next double page of his book closely. "Fools. Even in 1880s London they ought to have known that a distorted pentagram has no power whatsoever. No wonder they never got a firm hold of the Ripper."
...Maybe he was a professional?...
"Not of the Arts. Even Norrell could have told them as much. And 1886 was within Reed's time."
...To quote a certain youth: 'Clow Reed was a sick old fuck'....
Seishiro snorted.
The Tree's upper branches swayed in a spirit breeze, creating the illusion of a deep-felt sigh. ...Why did the cute kid have to grow up into an uptight boring adult?...
Seishiro ignored it and had the partying lawyers in his illusion break into raucous laughter, thinking sullenly that he could certainly do without hanami, when every single one of Tokyo's less-than-law-abiding managers seemed keen on offering himself to the Sakura on a silver platter. He threw a contemptuous glance over the rim of his glasses at the hanami parties that covered every free spot in the park. Make that blue plastic planes, he corrected sourly, returning his attention to his illusion of lawyers. He'd taken extra care to give the section chief a striking resemblance to Romiro. More precisely, a fat, drunk, and overall badly behaved Romiro.
He turned a page and continued to read, taking a sip from his cooled coffee. He choked, spat out and glared up the Tree. "What did I say about shedding in my coffee?"
...I thought you needed the nourishment... the Tree replied smugly. ...you're too thin. And recently you have such surprisingly strenuous leisure activities...
Seishiro decided that the illusion of Romiro was going to barf on the Tree's roots once he finished his chapter.
~:~:~:~:~
11:12
Exit 1 of the Kokkai-gijido-mae station was a stylish glass-and-steel construction just next to the south entrance of the National Diet Building. "This kind of building gives me the creeps," Kamui said, throwing a glance at the panes of the roof. "I always see the glass shatter and the shards cutting everyone up."
Subaru nodded. "Me, too." They'd reached the ticket machines. "Do you have a season ticket?"
As an answer, Kamui produced a grimy card from his pocket.
After retrieving his own ticket, Subaru headed straight for the escalators.
"Subaru?" Kamui called after him. "The train to Shinjuku is on the other—"
Subaru didn't stop. "I know. I moved house."
A train was just entering the station when they reached the platform for the Marunouchi line towards Tokyo Station. Subaru took a seat but Kamui, despite being slightly out of breath, remained standing. The lights of the station flicked past and disappeared in the darkness of the tunnel behind them as the train accelerated.
"Why did you move?" Kamui asked after a moment, filled with the rhythmic sound of the wheels on the tracks.
Subaru sighed. This probably wasn't his brightest idea, but he was out of options. He hadn't been in his apartment for weeks; and couldn't remember if he had restacked the first aid kit at all. On the other hand, there certainly was one in—
An elbow nudged him.
"You spaced out," Kamui told him.
"I'm sorry." Subaru sighed. "There were too many spirits in Shinjuku. I couldn't rest any more." At least it wasn't a complete lie, though the people who had died when the Shinjuku highrises fell had nothing to do with it.
"So where are we going now?"
"Sakuragi. We've got to get onto the Yamanote at Tokyo Station."
Kamui drew a face. "Isn't Sakuragi boring after Shinjuku?"
You wouldn't say that if you knew with whom I live there. Subaru shrugged. "After last year, 'boring' has a certain appeal for me."
Ueno-Sakuragi-cho, Tokyo,
11:56
Subaru kept an eye on Kamui while they slowly made their way up from Uguisudani Station. Normally, it was about fifteen minutes from the station to Seishiro's house, but now it took them over twenty, although Kamui trudged doggedly on. The boy refused to accept any help; had made it abundantly clear when they got off the train at Tokyo Station and Subaru had offered his hand as Kamui stumbled and nearly fell. Subaru hadn't asked again, though he wished more and more that he'd insisted on Kamui seeing a doctor before they went out to Sakuragi. Kamui seemed to be limping, and trying to hide it whenever he thought Subaru was looking.
"Kamui—" he began, when the youth stopped at the mouth of their small back alley, supporting himself with a hand against Yoshino's white-washed wall, breathing hard.
"I'm fine, Subaru. Don't worry," Kamui said through clenched teeth. "I just didn't... expect you to live... so far from the station."
"It's not far anymore," Subaru offered quietly.
"You said that at the station," Kamui huffed and pushed himself off the wall. "It's on the other side of this mountain, right?"
"It's the next house."
Kamui blinked. "You live... here?"
Subaru nodded. "Come." He headed on. Yoshi's large red-tabbied shape, lying in the midday sun in front of the gate, gave hope that he could keep a certain aspect of his living arrangement from Kamui. Certainly, the cat would have wriggled in otherwise. Subaru fished for the keys in his pocket. Their faint jingling made Yoshi rise and weave leisurely around his legs, leaving the usual red-golden traces on his black pants. Subaru entered the key into the lock and scoped the cat up.
Kamui stared at the pale yellow house on the other side of the forbidding steel gate and the rusty, pentacle-shaped wall ornament mounted next to it, before giving the cat a suspicious glance. "Yours?"
"Not really." Subaru stroked the cat under the chin and pushed open the gate.
~:~:~:~:~
Ueno Park, Tokyo,
12:02
...Sei-chan... The Tree's branches stilled. ...Your wards are being breached. A Kamui is entering your house...
He tensed. "Which one?"
...Heaven. Your 'pet' allowed him in...
He queried his marks briefly and had an impression of Subaru hanging up coats. Then he concentrated on his wards. The dissonance was still low. Probably, because Subaru had a valid key to the house and had asked the boy in, but still—
The spiritual energy of agitated warriors brushed along his personal shields, telling of intrusion, of the enemy, of damage to their ranks. The ghosts of samurai weren't easily spooked. Tendrils of the Sakura were woven into the structure to support and guard it. They increased their reach now, shoots becoming twigs, even branches to add strength to the fabric. It would hold...
...for the time being. Seishiro extricated himself from it, getting up, leaving coffee and book abandoned on the canvas chair. He'd have to maintain the illusion from afar. Concentrating, he grimly forced his path through the partying people.
It took him nearly fifteen minutes to leave the park. Once out, he increased his speed, until he was almost running. It was roughly two kilometers between the Sakura and his house. The ghosts guarding his wards kept him informed about what went on inside. Using their power to mask his approach, he avoided querying his marks. A query was hard to miss; a mere approach however...
...he hadn't taught Subaru that. Yet. Maybe he never would.
The whispering dead told him of his prey sitting in the kitchen, sang of poured tea, concerned talk, a spiritual signature disturbed by an injury not quite what it was said to be.
Seishiro sorted through it all while he slowly walked the last meters towards his gate, safely hidden in the shadow of the high garden wall. He wove the illusion carefully; slipped it cautiously, thread by thread, detail by detail into the minds of the two people sitting at his kitchen table over cooling cups of green tea — the cheap one for everyday use — before he dared open the gate.
He spotted Subaru through the kitchen window, watched him stiffen and throw a wary glance towards the gate, right at him, through him, seeing... the glitter of sunlight on the steel of the closed gate, the intricate pattern of its shadow on the concrete. Grass from his neglected garden touched the left corner. A few blades stuck in the hinge...
Seishiro waited, meeting Subaru's stare unbeknownst to his prey, one on one. Illusions were an art all of its own, and he excelled in it, having practiced it against other practitioners, at times to save his life.
In the kitchen, Subaru frowned and slowly turned his attention back inside, only to throw a fast, final look in the end. Nice ploy, but I'm better than that! Seishiro kept the illusion intact until he reached the door. Suppressing the sound when opening it was easy—
~:~:~:~:~
"Is something wrong?" Kamui asked inside.
"Nothing." Subaru shook his head. The midday sun created a rapidly shrinking puddle of light on the kitchen table. It would be gone soon, when the sun moved across the house. "I've got a morning kitchen," Seishiro had said once, and, though odd, Subaru admitted that it was a fitting description. Morning — rising sun, fresh air, bright colors and promises which might or might not be kept by the day. He sipped at his cooled green tea and wondered what Kamui thought of it. The room wasn't like him — at least not like the 'him' he'd been over the last nine years, the 'him' Kamui was familiar with...
...and yet, somehow he had begun to fit in here. A startling realization, now that he'd spent the better part of half an hour sitting across from the stubborn Dragon of Heaven, nursing his tea and trying to get the truth out of him. At least, Kamui had stopped looking like death warmed over; not that sick-on-hold was much of an improvement.
Subaru sipped from his tea again and put the cup down. "I'm worried. I saw too many people die last year, too many spirits begging for release to ever help them all on. And now all those who died after the fight at Rainbow Bridge are alive." He shook his head. "I fear they'll be dead again if something happens to you. Or to me. Or to—" He stopped short of saying 'Seishiro' and reached for the cup again, not to drink from it, but to have something in his hands.
Kamui reached across the table, putting his hand over Subaru's on the cup. "Don't worry." His touch felt cold on Subaru's skin. "I told you I can deal with the Twin Star. I—"
"May I ask what's going on here?" Seishiro interrupted from the kitchen door, leaning deceptively at ease against the frame.
"You!" Kamui leaped to his feet, stumbled, his chair scraping loudly across the kitchen tiles.
"Kamui, don't." Subaru intervened quickly, also rising. "It's not like you think."
"Tsk." Seishiro snorted, sauntering into the room. "It's exactly like he thinks. Don't bother with denial. So what is he doing here — aside from mistreating my furniture?"
Kamui stopped dead at Seishiro's last statement... seemed rattled by it.
"He's my guest," Subaru declared. "I apologize for not asking you beforehand, but having tea was... a kind of spontaneous decision."
"Spontaneous, yes?" Seishiro arched a brow at the boy and Kamui took a step back. Energy crackled. Dissonance grated through the soothing song of the dead guarding the house.
"Kamui, please—"
"Subaru-kun, your 'guest' is bleeding on my kitchen floor." Seishiro pointed accusingly at two small, crimson-colored droplets.
"Wh—!?" Kamui flared. "Clean your glasses! I'm not—" A third droplet hit the tiles next to his foot.
This was way more serious than Subaru had already suspected. "Let me see the wound," he demanded.
"No." Kamui took a shaky step back. "It's just the leg that's—"
"—dripping on my floor," Seishiro interrupted, hands stuffed casually in his pant pockets. "And stop lying. You aren't good at it. It's not your leg that was stabbed."
"That's none of your business. I'm here with Subaru and—"
"If he puts you in my kitchen to die after being raped, it is."
"Fuck. It was consensual. I—"
Subaru froze. "I'll play with you," the Twin Star had promised once. His thoughts raced. "You're too young to give consent."
"Age of consent in Japan is thirteen!" Kamui spat.
But consensual sex doesn't leave you half-dressed and half-frozen on a deserted parking lot. Kamui shouldn't have to deal with Seishiro of all people in a condition like this. He—
"Prefectural law supersedes national law and the prefecture of Tokyo set the age of consent at seventeen," Seishiro stated coldly into Subaru's thoughts. "Which makes you perfect jailbait, Kamui-kun, no matter what you said."
"You didn't care about that with Subaru either!"
"The law draws a precise line between flirting and touching. Ask him whether or not I crossed it back then." Subaru caught a short, sharp glance from Seishiro. He gave a small nod behind Kamui's back. The boy needed treatment. Urgently. If— "So you will have Nokoru's physician treat you, or I'll take that phone and give Metropolitan Police a call about statutory rape. Your decision."
"They can't deal with the Twin Star. Even you can't be that stupid."
"Not my problem."
"But Subaru would—"
"Not my problem. Don't make me repeat myself," Seishiro warned him. "I'm waiting."
Subaru wisely kept silent. More blood dripped to the floor. "Nokoru," Kamui said finally to his relief.
"Good choice." Seishiro vanished through the open kitchen door. A moment later, his agitated voice sounded over the corridor. "Nokoru? Seishiro. Kamui's here with me and— Seal. We need a physician, rectal emergency kit, and no questions. — Not me. The Twin Star."
Kamui shivered. "It's not what he thinks—" he said tiredly, propping himself against the kitchen counter. "I should leave. I—"
"You're hurt," Subaru said softly. "Please allow yourself to be treated." He sighed inwardly at the dark, betrayed look the boy gave him. "Mono-kun wouldn't want you to die, would he?" Kamui shrugged.
"—Yes, my place!" The bang of a phone being thrown onto the cradle followed.
"How long?" Subaru asked when Seishiro returned.
"Fifteen minutes. Tokyo University's got a helipad."
23:17
Kamui was sleeping on the couch Subaru had used on his first night in Seishiro's house as well. The doctor had stayed until Kamui's sedation turned into normal sleep. Considering the injuries Akechi had confirmed to him, Subaru would have preferred to put the boy in a bed, but there was a limit to what Seishiro would put up with. Bringing Kamui here at all was bad enough; lending out Seishiro's bed—
Subaru rested his head against his hand, staring out of the kitchen window into the dark garden. New moon was in three days and they were high up on Ueno hill with the tall wall shielding the garden from the city lights. All he could really see was the reflection of his tired face in the pane above the fruits basket.
"You know that he can't stay here." Seishiro pulled out the second chair and sat down opposite him.
Subaru nodded silently. "Just tonight. Please." He needs a place to rest where he can feel safe, even if it's just for a few hours. "He has to stand up to the Twin Star."
Seishiro said nothing. A brief glance told Subaru that Seishiro was staring out into the night like he himself had done just a moment ago, then:
"The wards are hiding him — for the time being, but they are weakened by his presence. If he stays, the Twin Star will find this place."
"I'm surprised he hasn't found it already."
Seishiro gave him a wry smile. "Why do you think I bought a house almost inside the Yanaka cemetery? The Kamui represent divinity."
"The realm of Death is separate. Though Izanagi returned from it, he never ruled it and neither do his children." Subaru blinked. "Your wards are—"
"—not part of the Kamui's sphere of influence."
"You planned all this long before 1999 started, didn't you?"
"No. I just value my priv—" A violent flash and deafening thunder interrupted him; the following silence was ended by the patter of heavy rain against the kitchen window. More flashes cast the nightly garden in eerie black and white images, blurred by the water streaming down the pane. "Looks like I don't have to sit in the park tomorrow," Seishiro commented wryly. "Come to bed."
"With Kamui in the living room?" Subaru shook his head. "I think not."
"I won't lose sleep over your marks because of that brat—" The scars on Subaru's hand flickered briefly. "—and neither will you."
April 3, 2000 — 06:09
Subaru woke slowly, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, a heart beating steadily under his cheek. He was snuggled against Seishiro, their legs entangled. Apparently, his marks had sought contact as close as possible. Or was that how they always slept and he just didn't know because Seishiro was usually up and about when he woke up? A disconcerting thought and—
Something hot touched his hip. Realizing what it was, he tried to move away to avoid further discomfort for Seishiro, only to have his left hand deftly caught and pressed around the taut flesh.
"Payment due," Seishiro grunted, moving it firmly up and down—
Heat flowed into Subaru's face. The heartbeat under his cheek quickened; the previously quiet breaths became rougher. His own arousal grew, his erection lying hot against Seishiro's skin. The forced movement became faster, rougher—
Seishiro next to him tensed, spasmed. Subaru's hand was suddenly slick and wet. Languorously, Seishiro ran Subaru's palm over the now soft flesh again before he released him with a contented sigh and sat up.
Subaru caught his wrist. "Don't forget my change," he demanded hoarsely, noting satisfied the brief flicker of surprise in Seishiro's eyes.
Amused laughter followed. "What if I'm out of small coin?"
"You can pay in kind."
"Didn't they teach you to keep financial matters in your own hands?"
"Yes," Subaru said, "but in this case it would be the wrong hand."
"What's wrong with this one?" Seishiro caught Subaru's hand again, pressed the slick fingers against Subaru's straining groin, making him squirm.
Subaru wasn't deterred. "It belongs to the wrong person," he insisted and almost cried out when Seishiro's fingers finally closed around him.
"With Kamui-chan in the living room?" Seishiro inquired, staying maliciously still.
"Yes..." Subaru turned himself into the touch, biting his lips to keep silent. "...please."
"What if I write another spell on you?"
"I'll—" Subaru's breath caught in his throat at the first, teasing stroke. "—take that risk."
~:~:~:~:~
It was cool outside when Seishiro went to retrieve the morning paper two hours later. Last night's thunderstorm had cleared the air and left behind that fresh, almost ozonic quality that never lasted long after sunrise in a metropolis. Water droplets still hung from every surface. The paper was soaked where it stuck between the bars of the gate.
It had taken time to extricate himself from the bed after his prey cried out in climax despite all his efforts to stay quiet, lips bitten, slender hands clawed into the twisted sheet. Seishiro allowed himself a smirk and pulled the paper out of the gate, unrolled it and skimmed the headlines. They were unspectacular, making him wonder for how long the ruling LDP would be able to hide the real condition of the prime minister. The radio news had held nothing, either. He shrugged. If they waited too long, there would be some fresh files in his "In" folder for sure.
A purr came from the other side of the gate. Looking over the edge of the paper, Seishiro met a pair of large golden eyes looking expectantly up at him. "Go home," he told the cat. Yoshi ignored him and rubbed his bulky form against the gate; not long and the cat would try to wriggle through it, get stuck as usual and— Seishiro sighed. The bars seemed to vibrate from the purring. "Oh, whatever." He pushed open the gate and drew a face at forty pounds of not-quite-dry cat weaving around his legs.
He folded the paper and returned to the house, taking the occasional large step over the cat. There was miso soup and rice simmering on the stove. Maybe he'd spice up his breakfast with toast and coffee. Seishiro slipped out of his shoes. The clanging of pot lids had him hurry up the stairs towards the kitchen. It wouldn't do to let the soup bur—
He stopped. Kamui. Dipping a spoon into his soup.
"Whoever tastes my cooking behind my back risks that I have him eat Subaru's," Seishiro warned, tossing the paper onto the table.
Kamui jerked away. "I'd prefer that," he stated defiantly, while Seishiro checked on his soup.
"No, Kamui. You wouldn't." Subaru said from the door, looking delicious with his disheveled hair, the shirt unbuttoned at the collar. "Believe me."
Kamui stared at him, wide-eyed. "You—"
"Rice or toast?" Seishiro asked cheerfully. "Tea water should be about ready."
"Thank you. Toast, please." Subaru opened one of the cupboards and frowned. "Where are the cups?"
"Dishwasher? I didn't clear it out yet."
"My treat then," Subaru took a kitchen towel and began sorting cups and dishes into the boards. The glass tea set was put straight onto the table. "Do you take rice or toast with your soup, Kamui?" he asked, while wiping down the bowl decorated with cartoon penguins holding up a bright red banner that asked 'Wanna know what's under the tailcoat?'.
"He gets rice," Seishiro declared, putting his coffee mug opposite Subaru's tea cup on the second place set. "There's enough of that." He put the warmed bowl in the center of the table.
After a moment, Kamui fetched himself the kitchen stool, dropping the stack of old papers on it onto the ground with a loud thud. Seishiro pointedly ignored him.
"You can have my chair, Kamui," Subaru said. "I'm going to take the stool."
Seishiro divided the soup into three bowls and sat. "I suggest you get yourself the desk chair. At least, you can look onto the table then."
"Do you begrudge me the view?" Subaru retaliated on his way out. "Or are you afraid I'll see something I haven't seen before?"
"Well." Seishiro leaned back. "We're in the same trade..."
"What did you do to him!?" Kamui hissed the moment Subaru was safely out the door, still laughing faintly. "Those bruises—"
"I should think that's obvious." Seishiro buttered his toast.
"If you hurt him again," Kamui stated, "I'll kill you!"
"You can try." Seishiro shrugged. "And you might end existence if you do."
"And I just might not care, as long as I stop you!"
"As effectively as you stop the Twin Star?" Seishiro bit into his toast, chewing calmly. "You're obviously too much of a wimp to keep the Dragon of Earth at arm's length even for your own sake." He sipped from his coffee. "I bet your beloved is all joy that you leave the responsibility for controlling the Twin Star to him."
"I—" Kamui opened his mouth for a reply, then shut it, saying nothing when Subaru returned with the chair.
"When do you leave for your exorcism?" Seishiro asked.
Subaru put the chair down in front of the table and sat. "I just gave Ishido-san a call, telling him that I can't possibly exorcise the apparition until the prime minister's condition has stabilized."
"One way or the other," Seishiro commented. "I guess, Ishido wasn't too happy about it."
"No," Subaru admitted with a sigh, reaching for his soup. "It's the second delay after all."
"It's not your fault if Diet members keep dropping like flies."
Subaru gave him a dark look. "It doesn't matter. We have to bring Kamui back and—"
"We?" Seishiro tossed his napkin onto the table and stood. "He left there on his own, and for all I care that's the way he returns!"
"You—"
"It's alright, Subaru," Kamui said quietly. "I'll be fine. Just show me the way to the station. I didn't pay attention yesterday."
~:~:~:~:~
In spite of the night's thunderstorm and the fresh morning, it didn't turn out to be a clear day. Low-hanging clouds chased over the sky, threatening more rain. A stiff breeze batted Subaru's coat against his legs and he tied the belt more firmly as he and Kamui headed down the narrow streets towards Uguisudani station. "Are you really all right with this? We can try to find an alternative, at least for a while, until you recovered some more and—"
"No." Kamui shook his head. "I have to go back. I need to help Fuma... I haven't really been doing that," he muttered to himself, then straightened determinedly, facing Subaru. "But you shouldn't go back to him. Your throat looks like he nearly throttled you and—"
"That's not Seishiro's fault." Those were caused by a dead woman's perversity, Subaru thought grimly. "My jobs can be rather dangerous, sometimes," he added with a reassuring smile.
"I heard you last night." Kamui averted his eyes. "It's not fair that for the fate of the world, you have to let him molest you."
"The fate of the world has nothing whatsoever to do with it."
"You say that only so that I don't feel bad about it. I couldn't decide and now you have to—" Kamui clenched his fists helplessly. "It's not fair."
"Kamui. Molestation is when something you don't want is being done to you against your will." Subaru stopped at the Kototoi-dori and waited for a gap in the traffic to cross over. "Seishiro is not molesting me." He threw a long look back along the way they'd come, then went to the ticket machines and bought a ticket for himself.
Kamui looked at him wide-eyed. "Why—" he began.
"I'm accompanying you," Subaru said firmly. "We have to remind the Twin Star that the Dao isn't as neutral as he thinks."
The late morning hours were comparatively quiet on the trains heading towards the suburbs and they easily obtained seats. According to Kamui, they would have to change trains twice. The closest station to the shrine was Shinozaki on the Toei line in Edogawa. Edogawa, having been spared most of 1999's turmoil, wasn't an area where Subaru worked often. He prayed that wouldn't change now.
Kamui was silent most of the time, but after they changed trains the second time, he became fidgety. Finally, he burst out, "Look, can you just get out at the next stop and go back? I don't want you near the Twin Star! He'll attack you and I don't want you to get even more hurt. You're all alone and—"
"Don't worry," Subaru reassured him calmly. "Seishiro will come."
"Why— why would he do that? He's the Sakurazukamori! You can't rely on him, he—"
Subaru took his hand out of his coat pocket and showed him the faintly glowing mark on its back. "He doesn't have a choice," was all he said before leaning back into his seat and staring out the window again. Outside, the train crossed the Arakawa River, entering Edogawa.
The marks tingled. Seishiro was tracking him already. Subaru tried to judge the distance between them, but he wasn't sure about the results. It was one of the things they hadn't specifically trained. Seishiro focused on teaching him to live with marks, not to use them—
—maybe exactly for a reason like this. Subaru knew he would have to pay for forcing Seishiro like this — with his body and probably with a piece of his soul; but there was no reason to tell Kamui that he was using their mutual oaths, straining his own oath to the limit, for his sake. There'd been a fatalistic streak in Kamui's behavior that Subaru just couldn't ignore. He wasn't likely to fight the Twin Star effectively on his own behalf, but if he had something — someone — to protect...
Edogawa-ku, Tokyo
11:48
Togakushi was the shrine of a calm neighborhood, where the full force of urbanization hadn't struck yet. The shrine itself consisted of two buildings surrounded by old, well-tended trees around a yard that showed signs of neglect; neglect somebody was obviously working hard to rectify.
Barely large enough to warrant a kannushi of its own, the shrine was clearly still held in high regard by the people of the area. Countless ema were tied to a board beneath the tallest tree. The twigs of two small pines, growing near the far fence, had rejected omikuji tied around them. Instinctively, Subaru checked the wards and found them well-set and in order. It told him a lot about the effort Mono Fuma put into fulfilling his role as his father's successor and providing a normal life for Kamui.
He focused on his marks again, felt their effects diminishing. Soon.
In front of him, Kamui pushed open the gate. Small bells, tied to the top-most bar, jingled. "Fuma?"
~:~:~:~:~
Seishiro felt the sudden tension in the scars on his hands when he sorted his car into the exit traffic of Expressway No. 7 at Yagochi. The Tree whispered in the back of his mind, reminding him that, technically, he'd have to eliminate Subaru now, for endangering the realm.
Unfortunately, that would also endanger the realm and I'd have to eliminate myself, too, Seishiro retorted grimly.
...Then teach him... The Tree seemed to share his mood. ...And hurry...
Not that he had that many options against the Twin Star. Illusions worked... but on a Kamui, only to a limited degree. As long as he could keep them ignorant of the illusion, it worked well, but once they realized... Illusions were his own magic. And a Kamui's power exceeded his. He wasn't keen on a repetition of the Final Battle. The Dao had already shown inconvenient side-effects.
Another flash of heat washed over his hands; the marks were becoming painful. No more time for an elegant solution. He floored the pedal—
—and stopped right in front of the small shrine. One of the locations he'd examined last year, once he'd known he'd have to stand against the Kamui. The area hadn't improved much since then. The gate still stood open, small bells jingling from time to time in the strengthening wind. A chime dangled on the engawa, but the police seals were gone. The door beyond it stood open, revealing a comparatively bare living room. The scent of fresh paint hung in the air. Paint and...
Burning paper. Torn fuda littered the floor in the next room. The sizzle of a banning field about to collapse; Seishiro wrapped himself carefully into an illusion before he entered that room. Subaru was holding his position in front of Kamui, who was struggling back to his feet, blood from a gash above his left eye streaming down his face.
Apparently, the Twin Star didn't like unexpected guests, either, and he was less gentlemanly about it than Seishiro himself. Subaru wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. Seishiro took the fuda from his sleeve, prepared to weave his power into Subaru's. If he added the illusion of the Dao around it, they might just—
The banning field flickered. The Twin Star forced a hand through, reached for Subaru's throat—
Seishiro charged the fuda—
"No!" Kamui leaped between them, shielding Subaru. Interesting.
"You want to play, too?" The Twin Star smirked, "but I'm busy with your fr—"
The slap reverberated through the room. Kamui's left hand flickered with power. "No," he repeated. "No. You won't hurt my friend. No. You won't hurt me. No... I won't leave Fuma on his own with you any longer!" He breathed in heavy gasps. Blood that had poured from the slashes of the dragon claws in the Twin Star's face stained his hand. "No."
The Twin Star staggered, blinked, bleeding gashes healed to pale silvery scars. "Kamui... no, I—" Mono Fuma took a step back, and another. His back connected with the wall and he slid down it, dangling his hands between his knees in defeat. "Gods, no." He shivered. "I... I can't..." He buried his face in his hands, shaking.
Kamui went to him, kneed down beside him. "Fuma?" Behind him, Subaru drooped out of his fighting stance, supporting himself with his hands on his thighs, breathing hard.
Seishiro slowly withdrew his magic from his fuda and stepped out of the illusion. "I see you've finally figured things out to some degree," he said nonchalantly to Kamui. "Congratulations."
Three heads turned to him. For an instance a murderous glitter flickered in one of them. Kamui's hand squeezed Fuma's and it slowly died. "Get lost," he growled.
Seishiro ignored him, putting his hand onto Subaru's shoulder.
"You're late," Subaru panted, straightening slowly under his touch.
"You're dead," Seishiro returned under his breath. Aloud he said, "Complain to the Metropolitan Expressway Company. No. 7 doesn't have enough exits out here."
Subaru ducked away from his hold. "Kamui? Will you be all right on your own?"
"Yes." Kamui nodded without turning his attention from Fuma. "Thank you. And Subaru..." He actually threw a glance back, "be careful."
Seishiro snorted, nodding at the door behind him. "Out front. The blue Aristo."
~:~:~:~:~
"Out front. The blue Aristo."
Subaru hadn't even known Seishiro owned a car these days. He'd certainly never seen the elegant dark-blue sedan near the house and—
"Get in," Seishiro commanded and Subaru climbed into the passenger seat. "Seat belt." When Subaru didn't react immediately, he repeated, annoyed, "Fasten your seat belt." Seishiro started the motor the moment Subaru's belt clicked; laying his arm onto the back of the front seat, he backed out of the yard, turned, and slid into the slowly increasing afternoon traffic.
"I couldn't let Kamui go back on his own." Subaru said once they were safely on the Expressway. "Nobody should have to deal with something like that alone. Nobody."
Seishiro said nothing. He moved the car into the fast lane and kept to the maximum speed of 100 km/h. Exactly. The needle didn't so much as twitch. They took the exit in Chuo-ku, not Ueno, coming through several, more and more ramshackle streets until Seishiro slotted the car into one of the rare parking spaces and got out wordlessly. Subaru followed. The small tea shop which Seishiro entered without looking back didn't look impressive. A small house with a bland post-war facade.
The inside however...
Wooden shelves, tinged red with age, lined the walls floor to ceiling, holding countless porcelain tea containers of all sorts and flavors. Their aromas filled the room, mingled with the honey polish of the wood and a small cinnamon incense urn on the counter that took up all of the shop's back wall, except for a narrow door to the right.
Seishiro greeted the tiny old woman behind the counter with a polite bow. "We'd like to have tea, Kurisu-san. Sakura for my guest."
"And for yourself, Sakurazuka-san?" she asked.
"Wuyi Souchong. Strong."
The woman blinked briefly, as if surprised about the order, then bowed and began to prepare the tea.
"May we have it in the garden?"
The shop keeper smiled. "It's early in the year for such a request. There's not much to see now."
"You're joking, Kurisu-san. Your garden is impressive any time of the year."
"Charmer," she laughed. "Of course you may use it. I'll bring your tea in a minute."
Seishiro pushed against the narrow door next to the counter and held it open for him. Subaru found himself in a corridor that seemed to belong to the family's quarters.
"Back door." Seishiro ordered briskly, pushing him towards a door that had seen better days. Its paint was peeling and its key was rusty. The lock itself didn't look as if it could be opened any longer, but the door wasn't locked anyway and—
Subaru stopped dead, finding himself in a courtyard less than five meters across, between... walls of green. Mosses and ferns covered the walls rising up to the roofs of the adjacent houses, fronds uncurling in the warmth of spring. Water dripped down their cascades of leaves, to be collected in a small koi pond made of old wine barrels. Two metal chairs stood next to a narrow table. Dew hung on them in the twilight between the houses. The green walls had no windows...
Subaru blinked.
Kurisu brought the tea on a cheap bamboo tray, put it on the delicate table and left without a word, closing the door behind her.
Silence. Tranquility. In the heart of Tokyo.
The dripping of water on evergreen leaves.
A koi splashed.
A smoky bitter tang pervaded the leafy scents of the wet garden. Seishiro was pouring his tea, breathing it in, sipping slowly. The scent was strong, sharp. Even with the distance of the table between them Subaru got a furry feeling on his tongue just from smelling it.
Seishiro put his cup back onto the tray with the perfected motions expected at a tea ceremony and removed his glasses. Putting them in his shirt pocket, he rose and slowly moved around the table.
"Don't forget your tea," he reminded him casually.
Subaru reached for the tiny cup, prepared to sip from it—
Seishiro's hand closed around it and the tea flowed down Subaru's throat in a single gulp, leaving him choking, coughing. "What—"
—the world exploded. A thousand demons, a thousand dead souls screamed for him, for the living one among them — no, they were the living and he was the dead. They wanted his power, his spirit, their greedy hands clawing into the delicate veil that kept the realms apart, tearing it, blinded by their lust for power no matter its source, no matter the cost—
Blossom-covered twigs shot up around him and caught them, tore them to shreds, shielding the veil, sealing the gaps. Petals whispered along his cheek, his mouth, whispering, caressing—
The bitter tang of Souchong dulled his senses, lying thick and heavy on his tongue. Seishiro's arms were around him; Seishiro's mouth claimed his, sharing the burning tea. Subaru clung to him, coughing, fighting for breath, for—
The tranquil whispers of the wet garden, falling rain, the rustle of fern fronds slowly reached him. He stared into golden eyes. Light eyes. Hard eyes. Eyes no longer hidden by glasses...
"Next time you endanger the realm, keep in mind that some decisions aren't mine alone."
Subaru searched his face, desperate for an explanation, a— "The... tea?" he croaked finally. "...toxic?"
"No." A soft, deadly smile. "Sakura."
to be continued in
Family Matters 10 - Autumn Colors
Notes:
The graphic novel Seishiro reads at hanami is "From Hell", written by Alan Moore and drawn by Dave Gibbons, collected edition published in November 1999. It tells the story of Jack the Ripper in stark black and white pictures, based on meticulously researched sources.