It had sensed Sei-chan's disquiet about the lack of information coming from the marks even before he had tapped into its powers to reinforce his query. At first, it hadn't been much more than an occasional itch, but in the depth of the night, it had turned into a burn searing enough to consume flesh. The pain itself wasn't important; the crippling of his hands was. And so he had come in the absolute dark before dawn, wrapped in black leather and surrounded by the sick red glow of Sumeragi magic.
The Tree couldn't protect its Sakurazukamori from the injuries inflicted upon him by Amaterasu's gift, but it repaired the damage as fast as it occurred and for that it dug deep into the power stored after his last successful kill.
Something special, Sei-chan had answered that day when it had asked him what he would gain by marking the Sumeragi.
He will suffer, it had told him after the Sumeragi's marks had been cut into his hands. As will you.
A strong twig, thickly cushioned with blossoms, moved tentatively along Sei-chan's cheek. They had both been right.
The room was dim, almost dark when Subaru woke up with a headache throbbing in the rhythm of his pulse. Faint voices were coming from a distance. The radio...
Seishiro must have closed the blinds after getting up to make breakfast—
Subaru's stomach turned at the thought of food. For a brief moment he just lay there fighting the sickness and pain. Exhausted, he laid an arm across his eyes. Eating, moving... didn't seem to be good ideas just now. He must have made a mistake with the marks — a bad one — to end up feeling like this. It would also explain the painful, persistent whispers, impressions that didn't make sense.
"...flight JAL175 to Kansai International Airport is now ready for boarding on..."
...polished stones under the leather soles of his shoes...
...the swish of an unbuttoned coat...
Subaru shivered, half-awake, half-asleep. He had to be dreaming again. He wanted to touch Seishiro, to hold on to him to erase the pain, the hunger, to separate dream from reality, his reality from Seishiro's dreams.
"Your ticket, please..."
Subaru blindly reached for Seishiro's pillow, a small substitute for the real thing, and found a hard surface instead. He moved his hand cautiously, felt the distinct texture of fine tatami mats under his fingertips. Tatami? Since when...? A faint scraping beside him made him turn his head; a shoji was opened and—
"Subaru-san. It's good to finally see you awake."
Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West)
Sumeragi Family Residence
April 6, 2000 — 08:51
Subaru stared at Sumeragi Hamamatsu's relieved face. Dim, uneasy light filtered through the shoji decorated with protective ofuda. He pressed his hurting hands against his head, trying to remember. Yesterday... the Diet job. Had something gone wrong with it? It had been dark when he'd finally left the Diet Building. In the evening rush hour the streets had been full of people and—
He raised a slightly shaking hand to feel his neck and found a small adhesive plaster. He hadn't made a mistake with the marks. He'd been—
—brought to Kyoto.
Kyoto. He imagined Seishiro's scars becoming ugly red marks, blistered and torn, and almost choked at the vision of long elegant hands being blackened, burned, destroyed to the bone. Holding frantically on to his shields, he pushed the desperate wish to query his marks out of his mind. He couldn't risk turning the nightmare into reality. He had to return to Tokyo, to Seishiro before he lost his hold on the marks. Now. He struggled to sit up, to get to his knees, his feet—
The ground raced past under him, fell away—
"Subaru-san!" Hamamatsu caught him and prevented him from falling. "You shouldn't attempt to get up yet. You haven't fully recovered!" He helped him to sit back down. "I will send for Sumeragi-dono immediately."
The room had stopped spinning by the time the shoji opened again, allowing his grandmother to roll into the room. "Subaru-san," she greeted him with a polite nod. "I know this must be rather surprising for you, but—"
"Seishiro?" he asked, fighting against dizziness and pain.
"Don't worry about the Sakurazukamori." His grandmother actually reached for his hand, held it like she'd done so often when he'd been a small child. She'd stopped doing that when he'd had to wear the gloves... after Seishiro marked him. "You're safe. You'll—"
"Safe?" He snatched his hand out of her grip, cradling it in his lap. "I was safe in Tokyo. Here—" He shook his head. The pressure of the marks was crushing him. If that didn't stop soon, he'd be— He buried his exploding head in his hands, pleading, "Obaa-sama, I need him, I—"
"Subaru-san. You don't know what you're saying." She folded her hands in her lap and studied him sternly. "Rest some more. You aren't quite yourself at the moment. Hamamatsu-kun will make sure you aren't disturbed." She frowned. "I expect you in my rooms once you've refreshed yourself."
Subaru stared at the shoji for a long time after it had been closed behind her. Then he slowly, methodically got back to his feet, pointedly ignoring Hamamatsu's offered hand. As long as he kept a hand to a wall, he should be fine. As long as he kept focused, concentrated on his shields, Seishiro should be fine, too, which gave him a little time to deal with his grandmother and through her with the elders and the rest of his house. Then he could go home—
He stopped. He was home, wasn't he? This was his clan's main estate. Home. Subaru tested the word in his mind and realized he'd meant it. Sometime over the last three months, home had become a place with toast and miso, coffee and tea, the melodious singing of the dead and an off-key hum to the radio in the morning. It had become a place overgrown with weeds and invaded by an oversized cat.
Home meant discussions, arguments, threats, laughter...
...and more often than not an undemanding silence Subaru hadn't known existed.
Home...
...was no longer Kyoto. He stumbled and Hamamatsu steadied him immediately; Subaru batted his hand aside. "I have to go," he told him calmly. "Please don't get in my way."
~:~:~:~:~
Osaka Prefecture
Kansai International Airport
10:16
Seishiro pressed his hand against his right ear, trying to block out some of the din on the crowded platform. He didn't have much time; his train was already announced. He heard the call going out. Once. Twice. Thr—
=Sakura Enterprises, Osaka Office. Fujiwara speaking,= a cold, feminine voice said on the other end.
"Michiko? Seishiro." He imagined her sitting at her desk, nyloned legs crossed, business costume immaculate. She'd always been good at details. And deadly.
=Where are you?= There was a brief interruption when she checked her display. =Kansai International!?= The sound of a kitten heel hitting carpeted floor.
"Public phone," he confirmed, knowing he had her complete attention now.
=What do you need?= she asked.
"A car. Untracked. Off the books."
=Your usual?=
"Fast. With Kyoto license plates at Shin-Osaka in 50 minutes."
Behind him, his train thundered into the station. He had no time left. =Luggage locker 64. And Seishiro...= There was a brief pause; she was calculating what price she could demand for her favor. =...one day I'm going to ask.=
"Understood." She'd let him off easy. "Thank you." He hung up and ran to catch his train.
~:~:~:~:~
Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West)
Sumeragi Family Residence
10:16
Subaru entered his grandmother's room with an unhappy Hamamatsu on his heels. His stomach was still upset, and the perfect quiet of the house was filled with the din of countless voices heard elsewhere. He was running out of time. Fast.
"Subaru-san." His grandmother nodded politely at him, indicating the sitting cushion opposite her own. Behind them, Hamamatsu silently took his post next to the door. "Maki, please bring my tea set." She turned her attention back towards Subaru. "I didn't expect you so soon."
"The matter doesn't allow for delay, grandmother," he answered equally calm. What he had to tell her wasn't going to be easy. "It will only become worse."
She studied him, obviously considering his last comment. The shoji at their side was open, revealing the stone garden. It was late morning; the sunlight still drew small blue shadows towards sunset on the combed white sand. In their place Subaru saw curled green fronds over muddy black earth and tried to push the image of Seishiro's crippled hands from his thoughts. Maki returned with the tea set. She set it down in front of his grandmother, bowed again and, on a subtle move of his grandmother's hand, slipped back out the room, closing the shoji behind her.
His grandmother poured the tea and Subaru concentrated on taking the offered bowl with steady fingers; he only pretended to sip from it, silently wishing for a lukewarm coffee and one of Seishiro's painkillers to go with it. Or for Seishiro. Or both. His temples throbbed...
"So, you called the Dao together with the Sakurazukamori?"
"Yes." He put the bowl down and caught his grandmother frowning at him. "It was necessary."
"We noticed the renewal." She nodded. "But we believed it to be due to the victory of the Dragons of Heaven. It didn't occur to us that you might have abandoned the Dragons of Heaven to conjoin yours and your enemy's power."
"The Dao needs two sources," Subaru reminded her. "He is the only trained onmyoji of similar strength in Japan. There was no choice. The mass superstitions around 1999 and the end of the Millennium flawed the process of the Final Year, turning it into a fight of life and death. A decision under those conditions ends existence, independent of the winner. We had to stop it."
"And risk Japan's spiritual stability by keeping it undecided ever since."
"Spiritual stability means a balance between the forces of yin and yang," Subaru said tiredly. "If Kamui had killed his Twin Star, then Heaven would have killed the Earth, but can there be a heaven if there's no earth underneath to define it?"
It left her silent for a long time. The tea was cooling between them. The birds had fallen silent outside and the humming of midday insects over the bright sand now took their place. Subaru worked hard to maintain his shields, not to pay attention to the whispers in his ears and the taste of cheap coffee filling his mouth. He almost slumped in relief when his grandmother finally nodded slowly. "Your point is valid," she conceded.
~:~:~:~:~
Osaka Prefecture
Shin-Osaka railway station
11:09
Michiko hadn't bothered to tell him the key-code; Seishiro hadn't bothered to ask. His opening spell for locker 64 was a negligible effort and the content consisted of car keys, papers issued to his name and a pink stick-it note reading:
East Parking Lot. Slot 36. There's a surprise in the glove compartment. Love, M.
Normally that would have deterred him from even looking at the car, but he couldn't afford the time it would take to get a rental car at short notice. The Tree's supportive protection was already wearing thin; he felt the pain in his hands becoming more intense by the minute. Subaru was running out of time, and so was he.
Seishiro took the papers and keys and followed the signs towards the parking lot. Besides, Michiko was one of the few people he was willing to give the benefit of the doubt; she had equally much to lose.
Slot 36 held a black Mazda Roadster which he immediately checked for spells and other snares. When he found none, Seishiro unlocked the car and slipped behind the wheel. Normally, he preferred larger models, but it was a fast, reliable car and he wouldn't need it for long. The 'surprise' in the glove compartment turned out to be an unregistered 9 mm Sig-Sauer SAS in an executive holster, and two spare magazines taped together with another pink stick-it note:
Even you can't carry on a flight. Good luck. M.
He checked the gun and the magazines twice, before shrugging out of his jacket and slipping on the harness. After clipping the support strap to his belt, he adjusted the hold of the gun for a fast draw, put his jacket back on and started the engine.
~:~:~:~:~
Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West)
Sumeragi Family Residence
11:28
"Calling the Dao is in itself an astonishing feat. One that deserves deep respect," his grandmother acknowledged with a small nod. "However, your prolonged stay with the Sakurazukamori is unacceptable. There is no reason for the sources of the Dao to remain together once the Dao was called."
Subaru drew a deep breath. "The Dao demands symmetry in its sources."
"At the time of the call, but not afterwards, Subaru-san."
"Yes, but it enforces the symmetry." He slowly stretched out his hands in front of him and showed her the pentagram scars. "I've been wearing Seish— the Sakurazukamori's marks since I was nine. For sixteen years, a fragment of his magic has been embedded in me." He noticed her surprise and added, "That's how they work and the Dao—"
"Are you telling me a piece of your magic lies now within the Sakurazukamori?"
"Yes. Sakurazuka Seishiro has been bearing my marks since we called the Dao." Clasping his elbows, he added, "I had no conscious part in placing them, but it is my magic. It is calling me, constantly telling me about that other—"
"Nonsense!" she interrupted him sharply. "Don't you see that it's just one of his tricks, an illusion to keep you tied to him?"
"Grandmother, it gets stronger with increasing distance. No illusion does that. At the beginning that trick brought me to my knees if I went just a few meters away from him; Kyoto is five-hundred kilometers from Tokyo. I'm already fighting just to keep focused. If I fail—" He shuddered; the image of charred, destroyed hands was back. "I have to go back. I—"
"You've worn the marks of the Sakurazukamori since you were a child and he never came crawling to your doorstep because they hurt him." She aligned the bowls on the lacquer tablet meticulously. "You've been under his influence far too long. It isn't surprising that you can't think straight after his abuse."
"I'm not influenced," Subaru protested. "And I wasn't abused. The marks—"
"Not influenced? Not abused? You called him in your sleep! In Tokyo, you were all but spreading your legs for him right in front of me!"
"Because you drugged me and brought me to Kyoto and the marks are killing me that far away from him! Because I was nearly unconscious after dropping my shields to keep you from turning the garden into a battlefield. I'd have hit the ground there and then if he hadn't caught me. I assure you, there was no abuse."
"The bruises on your body and your fixation on our enemy suggest otherwise," his grandmother corrected him. "I can only hope that the rape didn't damage your spiritual integrity beyond repair." She sighed and her face softened a little. "It's not the first time that the Sakurazukamori tampered with your mind. I'm sure you'll see my point once you remember."
"I do remember, grandmother," Subaru retorted icily. "Every detail. And once and for all: I wasn't raped! I have gone Within rape victims. Believe me, I know the difference!"
There was no chance that he hadn't been heard outside. His grandmother's face was an expressionless mask when she finally asked coldly: "Subaru-san, are you telling me that you had consensual sexual intercourse with the murderer of your sister?"
He looked at her shock, her disdain, her manners that allowed her to say these to her most outrageous things in a calm, unperturbed voice — and he had enough of it, of etiquette, of traditions meant only for the clan and never for its people.
He met her eyes squarely. "Yes. And I enjoyed it."
The silence that followed his words was absolute. It lasted, expanded, seemed to enclose everything, until a faint rustle of his grandmother's kimono shattered it when she hid her hands in her sleeves. "I don't believe we have anything more to discuss." Her voice was strangely brittle. "Your disregard of propriety has grown beyond any proportion."
"Has it?" Subaru returned wearily. "Or is it propriety itself that has grown out of proportion? We are the ones who decide what is right and wrong, good and evil with our norms of what is to be and what isn't. But who judges us? Who assesses the rules? Why is what I do any better than what the Sakurazukamori does?"
"He's influenced you beyond reason. You don't know what you're talking about."
"Really? If a young woman is happy with the ghost she summoned to her side, why should I rid her of her happiness by sending him on?"
"Because it is the right thing to do." There was pity in her eyes when she answered his question in the patient voice with which she'd taught him the arts as a child. "It isn't right for that ghost to be forced to stay among the living."
But he was no longer a child. "There are ghosts who want, even beg, to stay and watch over those they hold dear. Still I have to force them to move on." He stood and, turning his back to her, looked at the now sun-flooded stone garden outside. "Without asking them, I judge their existence." He hesitated, his hand cramped around the frame of the shoji. "What I do with ghosts, Seishiro-san does with people."
"That makes him a murderer."
Subaru stared blindly into the sunglare. "What does it make me?"
He didn't expect an answer. Pain throbbed behind his eyes, radiating out, down his spine into his limbs, his joints. He had to return to Tokyo; through her if necessary. He'd have collapsed already if the pressure of the marks weren't abating—
Abating. Subaru froze. Seishiro was close! He withstood the temptation to query the marks and find out just how close. He was too worn to risk it; instead, he tapped spiritually into the wards protecting the estate. His wards. His protections. There were those of his grandmother, too; those were older and renewed more frequently, but his were the stronger, the more precise ones. Warily he laid a mental tendril onto the protective net they formed around the estate and wove his presence into them. Even that little magic had his marks screaming at him. He felt sweat forming on his skin...
There was a first tug, Seishiro's first cautious query. Subaru caught the alarm, silenced it, opened his wards to welcome the intruder as a guest not to be noticed. He dared not to think about the fact that he was opening the main estate of his clan for their enemy, exposing all those depending on him to the Sakurazukamori. Seishiro had no choice, he had no choice.
A second tug. Seishiro was nearing the main house. If he ran into somebody, if he killed— Subaru slowly released the shoji frame, concentrating on each finger before he turned to face his grandmother. "You're right," he admitted with a formal bow. "I don't know what I'm talking about — and neither do you. This discussion is pointless. I'll leave you to your thoughts."
"We aren't finished here, Subaru-san," she stopped him. "Your spiritual integrity—"
"Is not your concern, whereas given that I am head of the clan, yours is mine," he stated flatly. "I won't jeopardize your integrity with my presence any longer." He nodded at her. "Goodbye, grandmother." Hamamatsu blocked his path. "Let me pass," Subaru demanded.
"He won't," his grandmother said with just a hint of regret in her voice behind him. "This folly with our— the Sakurazukamori has gone long enough. You damage the honor of the house and we cannot tolerate it any longer. The clan—"
"I am the head of this clan." Subaru turned back to her. "And I am leaving."
"You aren't master of your senses," his grandmother declared. "You showed that clearly enough. You don't know what you do or want and—"
"I want to leave." Plain. Straight-forward, almost bleak in pronunciation. He wouldn't give her another chance to dispute his sanity.
"You can't." The two words held conviction and a finality which made Subaru want to scream. "Hamamatsu will escort you to your rooms."
"I don't think so," a calm voice said from the door.
Subaru watched his grandmother's pale, shocked expression, noticed her hands clawing into the seam of her sitting cushion. He didn't have to turn. He knew that Seishiro was standing in the door, one arm casually propped at shoulder height against the ancient wood, a gleaming cigarette between deceptively slack fingers, seemingly at ease — but no doubt the burning tobacco was close to his lips. He spotted a movement in the corner of his eye; Hamamatsu was reaching for—
"No!" Subaru snapped in a voice of command he seldom used. "Don't! I forbid it!"
"Suba—"
Seishiro's hand wiped over Hamamatsu's face and the tall man crumbled against the wall and down to the floor; out like a light. Seishiro used his foot to nudge open Hamamatsu's jacket. "Armed," he noted, "but no onmyoji." He looked at Subaru. "Ready?"
Subaru nodded, his attention on his grandmother. She was more dangerous. If she fought, he'd have to take sides once and for all. She knew that, but he wasn't sure she knew that there was only one side he could take.
"I will leave," he told her, walking slowly towards Seishiro, towards the now open door. If he didn't move too fast, he might stay on his feet. "It is up to you to decide how final it will be." He stopped barely a step away from Seishiro, rested a hand against the door post, and looked back at his grandmother's suddenly frail form, aware that the wheelchair was out of her reach. "It's not as easy as you may think," he told her quietly. "Please find it in your heart to believe me."
"Subaru-san!" her voice rang after him.
This time, he didn't turn.
~:~:~:~:~
Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West)
12:46
Seishiro kept his prey in sight from the moment they left the immediate vicinity of the Sumeragi estate. There was a JR railway station within walking distance, though not one served by the Shinkansen if he recalled correctly. Subaru might be able to confirm that, but he didn't look as if he was still paying attention to directions. The east wind coming down from Mount Hiei was chillingly cold, yet there was a sheen of sweat on Subaru's face which made Seishiro doubt that he could get them back to Tokyo today. Maybe if they drove, but there wasn't a chance that Subaru's spiritual signature on a Mori car would go undetected.
He'd put power into the sleeping spells to make sure that even somebody as gifted as Subaru's grandmother would need time to unravel them, and he was scattering their spiritual signatures thoroughly, but any serious spell would bring the Sumeragi onto their trail and probably draw the attention of the Mori as well. The former would be unpleasant, the latter probably deadly, and he was tiring fast now.
In Tokyo, he'd been tapping deeply into the Tree's power to ease the worst effects of their separation, otherwise his hands wouldn't be usable now. But Subaru had been on his own and unfettered marks tried to synchronize even vital functions, resulting in hyperventilation and tachycardia — and ultimately in cardiogenic shock when the body couldn't cope with the strain any longer.
So far, it looked as if Subaru had managed to hold on to his shields, but the sudden relief from the strain was almost as dangerous as the strain itself. Right now, they were taking pains not to touch each other, but they both knew they couldn't keep that up for long...
The next train to Kyoto Station was crowded, which helped to hide their signatures but also forced them to remain standing. It was a commuter train; at this time of day filled with housewives and their shopping bags, mothers and small children, and an assortment of tourists.
The car jerked when the train rattled over a switch. Subaru stumbled against him, fell— Seishiro caught him around the waist. Subaru moaned faintly, clumsily tugging at his shirt.
"You're drunk," Seishiro observed calmly.
"From you..." Subaru's voice was slurred. "You... 're like heavy wine... deep red..." He buried his face in Seishiro's shirt, breathing him in. "...goin' straight to the head..."
Seishiro steadied him. "Actually, I've been taught to go straight for the heart," he said dryly, aware of the space the surrounding passengers suddenly managed to give them. "You're going to stay on your feet, right?"
"U...huh?" Subaru mumbled, stubbornly trying to reach bare skin.
Seishiro caught his hands at the wrists to rescue his shirt from being pulled out of his pants and silenced the sobbed protest by weaving the fingers of his left hand through Subaru's. He pressed their hands firmly against his waist and glanced at the info board. It was still roughly fifteen minutes to Kyoto station. The Shinkansen was out of the question now; Subaru would never make it to Tokyo like this. Probably if they got a green class compartment, but he'd have to pull rank to get one without reservation and that wouldn't go unnoticed with the Mori. No, they'd have to get a hotel room and weather it there.
Shimogyo-ku, Kyoto
Hotel Granvia Kyoto
13:11
Subaru had begun to shiver violently by the time their train arrived at the station. Seishiro wrapped him into his coat and laid an arm around his shoulders, effectively masking Subaru's state from casual onlookers while steering him across the station. It was the quiet hour after midday and the wide stairs and escalators leading up to the entrance of the hotel above Kyoto Station were deserted.
The Granvia's door guard threw them a questioning look as Seishiro led Subaru towards the wide-swung entrance doors. A business man arriving without luggage and accompanied by a younger, obviously intoxicated man wasn't the kind of guest a four-star establishment would want to be known for.
Seishiro crossed the large lobby as fast as Subaru's condition allowed, heading straight for the reception counter.
"Good day, sir. Welcome at the Granvia." The receptionist bowed politely. "May I ask if you have reservations?"
"No, this is a trip on shortest notice." Seishiro sighed, steadying Subaru more firmly against his side. "Junior employees..." He shook his head and smiled, putting his credit card on the counter. "Sakurazuka Seishiro. You should find me in your customer registry. I'd like to have my usual suite if possible. And hurry, please."
The receptionist examined the card briefly before entering it in the card reader and calling up the customer profile. "Sakurazuka-sensei." He indicated the row of small desks set up for arriving guests to fill out the check-in forms. "Please be so kind as to take a seat and—"
Seishiro ignored the request. "Copy the data from the last time and send the files up. I'll sign them later." Subaru groaned, trying to hide from the bright lights against his side. "If an Executive suite isn't available, I take one of the twin Semis." Seishiro laid a hand over Subaru's eyes. "Just make sure it's quiet."
"But—"
"Do you offer a medical service?" Seishiro inquired.
"Yes, if your... associate needs assistance—"
"No, that won't be necessary, but I need a packet of Acetaminophen as fast as possible. If you could take care of that and deliver it to my room together with two pots of strong coffee I'd be most grateful, thank you."
"I'll see to it immediately and you'll find a ready-to-use coffee maker in your suite, sir."
"I'd prefer it delivered," Seishiro said. He didn't exactly have his hands free to make coffee.
"Yes, sir. It will be sent up immediately." The receptionist's face was schooled to a mask of attentive blankness. "You'll find descriptions of our additional services in your suite. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to call us. We hope you'll have a nice stay."
"I'm sure we will." Seishiro nodded politely.
The two topmost floors were reserved for high-profile guests. The glossy dark-brown marble of the corridor floor complemented the bamboo-themed walls and reflected the warm light coming from balloon lamps adorning them in regular intervals. The decor made the secret application of a spell or a fuda in the corridors almost impossible — one of the reasons Seishiro had chosen the Granvia before.
They'd been given the semi suite farthest from the lift and the attendant held the door for them before handing key card and info material to Seishiro, who declined the common tour of the suite: He ordered the blinds closed against the sun outside and dismissed the man.
Honey colored carpet sucked the noise from the large room once the door had closed. Seishiro left it unlocked for the room service. Subaru was almost unconscious when he sat him down on the wide bed and unwrapped him from the coats. Using the opportunity to check on temperature and pulse, he found Subaru's skin cool under the slight sheen of sweat. Good, they'd escaped a serotonin intoxication, otherwise the body temperature would have risen already. He checked pulse and breathing rhythm: fleeting and too shallow. Barely escaped, he concluded.
Room service knocked, and Seishiro went to get the tray of coffee and leave an order not to be disturbed no matter what. He put the tray on the bedside table and locked the door. After pulling off Subaru's boots, he kicked off his own shoes — everything else would have to wait. He tossed two pillows against the headboard to settle against it, then undid a few of his shirt buttons and pulled Subaru into his lap, setting his unresponsive hands onto bare skin.
For a brief moment, Seishiro allowed himself to just bathe in the relief the intimate contact brought for the aching burns on his hands... but he couldn't risk falling asleep. He reached across his prey for tray and remote control on the bedside table and poured himself a coffee, before reducing brightness and sound on the TV. Subaru murmured something, moving unconsciously in his lap and Seishiro ran his free hand soothingly through Subaru's sweat-damp hair, trying to move him away from his groin, while zapping through the numerous channels. One showed a repetition of Shurayukihime. He dropped the remote and reached for his cup. The shoulder strap of the holster under his jacket cut into his skin. It was going to be a long wait.
Six hours later, Seishiro heard the electronic lock clicking faintly, just before two armed men burst into the suite, stormed through the small lounge area and took position at opposite corners of the foot end of the bed, weapons directed at his chest.
Seishiro quirked a brow at them. The chance to spellstop a projectile increased dramatically with the distance in which the shot was fired; two meters plus was more than enough. The real danger was the old woman entering behind them. The fuda in her hand glowed an unnatural white. A stout black-capped grey bird sat on the back of her wheelchair, its red eyes unwaveringly trained on Seishiro. A night heron was officially still a 'white creature', but on the verge of being a predator. He was sure it was the reason they'd been found that fast.
"What have you done to my grandson this time?" Lady Sumeragi demanded. Subaru winced at her icy tone and snuggled closer against his left side.
"I did nothing," Seishiro stated, laying a firm hand onto the small of Subaru's back to keep him down. "It's not my fault that the Dao perfected the symmetry—" Subaru moaned when he raised his left hand to show her the still glowing pentacle on its back. "—without including the manual." The gunman he'd put to sleep at the estate made a threatening step towards him; the heron spread its wings. Subaru's grandmother stopped them.
"You don't believe I would fall for that absurd lie you fed my grandson, do you?"
"A lie?" Seishiro resumed his hold on Subaru's back, eliciting a contended murmur from his prey. Lady Sumeragi was watching him closely, concentrating on his lips, obviously prepared to counter any spell he might try.
"Unfortunately not." The Sig wasn't a spell; in one swift move he drew and aimed at Subaru's head. With a hoarse cry the heron took flight, the guards—
"Try it," he barked, stopping them in their tracks, "if you want to find out what a plated 9 mm hollow tip round does to his face!" The assaulting shiki fluttered as a fuda onto the crumpled cover.
"Which might end existence if your claim about the Dao holds true," Subaru's grandmother reminded him with cold irony.
"And I don't care if I go down myself." Seishiro kept the Sig pointed at Subaru's head, trigger half-pulled. "Check the marks," he ordered her. "Only the marks. Don't even think of trying anything else; you aren't fast enough to stop a bullet at a hand's length."
Her spiritual touch wasn't more than a whisper, the briefest contact before she recoiled and stared at him. But then, he'd known the Sumeragi were good at personal magic. Subaru's gift had to have come from somewhere. He silently watched the old woman rebuilding her composure.
"Young man, I do believe that we have something to discuss."
"Indeed," he confirmed with a cautious nod. "But not with your goons in my bedroom."
She considered that, then: "Hamamatsu, Shigeru. Wait outside."
"But Sumeragi-dono—" the former protested. "We can't possibly—"
"You can walk out that door or sleep on the carpet," Seishiro said sweetly. "You might even wake up again." He dropped the sweetness. "Or not."
"Wait. Outside." Lady Sumeragi repeated coldly without taking her eyes from him, for once truly assessing him. "I'll be all right. Make sure we are not disturbed."
This time they obeyed. "Yes, madam."
Seishiro de-cocked the gun and returned it to its holster after the door had closed behind them. Lady Sumeragi's attention turned to her grandson, whose legs were slung tightly around Seishiro's, unconsciously clinging to him. "This is—" She shook her head, lost for words. "How did this happen?" she asked finally. "What was your intention?"
"Nothing." Seishiro sighed. "Frankly, we didn't even intend to call the Dao. We just tried to stop two braindead kids from destroying the world thanks to some exceedingly stupid superstitions based on a misunderstood calendar system." He tried in vain to find a more comfortable position with Subaru curled against him. "The feud between our clans is fourteen hundred years old. There is no information about what happens when your brand of onmyodo and mine are used in unison."
"Certainly not," she agreed. "Why did you come for him?"
"If one of us dies now, we don't know if the Final Battle will continue or not, or if it will continue to be flawed or revert to what it was supposed to be. I'm sworn to protect Japan. Would you take that risk?"
~:~:~:~:~
..."If I were to start a war among our clans in your house, Sumeragi-san, did you really think I'd waste my time with the peasants?" ... "might have helped convince me of your sincerity if you hadn't prevented Subaru-san from contacting us." — "Prevented? I told him to call you." ... "Don't blame me for his stubbornness. That trait of his certainly isn't my fault." … "Subaru-san has been in such a condition before, hasn't he?" — "In the beginning. The symptoms increase with distance and time of separation. Tokyo-Kyoto could have been deadly."...
The voices were blurred, no rhythm, no sense, pounding his head endlessly, then a grainy and bitter liquid was dripped between his lips and somebody held his mouth closed, stroking his throat to make him swallow. His head was raised slightly; a strong hand supported his nape, while a cup was held to his lips.
"Swallow," Seishiro commanded and lukewarm coffee flowed over his tongue, washing the remaining crumbs into his stomach. He tried to turn his face away and Seishiro laid a hand over his eyes and forced another sip down his throat. "Tell me in time if you need a bowl. I didn't bring luggage. If you decorate these pants, you're in trouble."
"I'm sorry. I don't..."
"I know." The bed made a sickening jump when Seishiro reached over and put the cup on the bedside table. "The analgesic will take effect soon."
"What happened?" Subaru whispered, laying his arm across his eyes to block the blinding light that seeped even through his closed lids.
"You don't remember?" Seishiro sounded hurt. "And here I had the night of my life with you—"
"Don't—"
"Subaru-san, are you feeling better now?"
He shot straight up at the concerned voice and would have doubled over had Seishiro not caught him. "Grandmother..." She sat in her wheelchair, on the other side of a small coffee table that had been pushed against the side of the bed.
"I told you I had the night of my life," Seishiro said dryly, steadying him.
Subaru batted his hand aside and swallowed against the nausea, leaning his aching forehead against Seishiro's shoulder for a moment.
"Subaru-san?" his grandmother inquired, concerned.
He gathered himself up as best he could. "I'm fine," he answered, trying to distance himself from Seishiro but failing.
"And you call me a liar," Seishiro commented.
"You don't have to suffer for my benefit, Subaru-san," grandmother said in a calm voice. "As undesirable as the situation is, I am aware that this isn't your fault."
Subaru stared at her. "How—?"
Seishiro shrugged. "We had ample time to talk. They kicked in the door yesterday evening."
"We did nothing of the sort."
"No, the hotel management just had to replace the lock after your arrival."
"Please!" Subaru cut in, pressing his palms against his temples. "I can't stand this yet. I—" He ignored his throbbing head and slipped his legs over the edge of the bed under the table. "I need coffee."
Fifteen minutes and three cups of strong coffee later Subaru closed the bathroom door behind him, leaning against it for a moment to orientate himself in the elegant yet functional room — and to recover from the mad scene of Seishiro pouring tea for his grandmother.
Two white yukata with the hotel's logo in gold embroidery lay together with an assortment of toiletries and two stacks of fluffy white towels in an immaculate cabinet next to the sink. Taking a seat on the thickly upholstered stool in front of it, he began removing his clothes, finding his fingers annoyingly clumsy at first. When he was done he studied his reflection in the wide mirror covering the wall above the sink. Startled, he ran a cautious hand over his narrow cheek, tentatively touching the deep shadows under his eyes and the again clearly visible ribs. He had to have lost at least ten kilograms in the last two days. If this had happened a few weeks earlier...
He shivered and stepped into the shower stall. Seishiro's hands had looked fine and it hadn't felt as if there was serious harm, but there was no way to say how much of that was illusion. Seishiro wouldn't reveal any weakness as long as grandmother was around.
Subaru adjusted the water temperature to medium warmth and squeezed shower gel into his palm.
He returned to the main room of the suite ten minutes later. Freshly showered and wrapped tightly in a yukata, he finally felt a little more alive than dead. Not that it helped much with the feeling of dread created by his grandmother sharing a breakfast table with Seishiro. Or the two of them being in the same room... building... city to begin with. Talking. About him.
Talk about scary, Subaru thought and pulled one of the small armchairs over to sit at the front of the table.
"I've sent Shigeru-kun back to the estate to report to the elders and express your regrets about your hasty departure," she told him as he reached for a dry slice of toast. "I assume you won't come back with me there."
"I would," Subaru said quietly. "But not alone, and I fear you would object to my guest." He nibbled at his toast and waited to see if it stayed down. Underneath the table, he rested his ankle against Seishiro's. Warmth. Strength. For a brief moment, he just indulged himself, relaxing his shields, easing the pressure—
"Subaru-san, are you listening?" his grandmother asked with a frown.
Seishiro chuckled into his coffee and Subaru kicked against his shin with a socked foot, stubbing his toe in the process. "I'm sorry, grandmother," he answered demurely. "I'm still not quite myself. What were you saying?"
"I'm dismayed that you didn't inform me about the situation. Why did I have to learn the truth from your enemy?"
"I tried to tell you. You didn't believe me." He stopped and looked from Seishiro, who was seemingly carefree sipping his coffee, back to his grandmother. "But why did you believe him?"
Seishiro raised his hand and showed him the scars. "Let's say I had the evidence at hand."
A sharp knock interrupted them. Hamamatsu entered and bowed. "Please excuse the disturbance, Sumeragi-dono, but there's a gentleman from the hotel insisting on seeing... him." He nodded briskly towards Seishiro, who tossed his napkin onto the table and stood, not without running his hand languorously over Subaru's shoulder in passing. He arched a brow at Hamamatsu.
"The name's Sakurazuka. Give it a try; it's not that complicated, Ham-chan." He opened the door.
"You will return to his house?" his grandmother asked quietly, observing Seishiro, who talked briefly with an employee in the open door before being handed a gold printed document folder.
"It's not as if I have a choice," Subaru replied, closing his mouth on the 'And even if I had one...' that followed.
Seishiro skimmed the content of the folder, then took the offered pen and signed it. He handed it all back with a polite nod and closed the door.
"We have the room for an additional four hours. Reception will take care of reserved seats on a Shinkansen back to Tokyo this afternoon," he told Subaru while reaching for his coat.
"Where are you going?" Subaru asked warily.
"Isetan. I won't spend three hours on a train in sweaty underwear." Seishiro studied him briefly. "It's about five hundred meters. Can you manage that?"
"Surely Subaru-san—"
"Yes," Subaru nodded slowly. "If you don't take too long. I'm still receiving from you."
"I'll make it short. Special wishes for yours?"
Subaru blinked. "Sorry?"
"That yukata looks good on you, but I doubt JR would consider it appropriate attire for a train ride. We might try a bribe, but—"
"Nothing pink!" Subaru interrupted him hastily. "And no sak— flowers, please."
Seishiro shrugged into his coat. "How about purple baby bunnies?" he asked on his way out.
"Be careful, I might put it on the line for Yoshino-san to study."
"And? It'll be your underwear. I'll make sure to bemoan your tastes loudly when I fetch my mail."
Subaru glared at the door which had closed after Seishiro. "I'm so going to get that Hello Kitty-tie for him!"
"Subaru-san," his grandmother said sternly behind him. "I hope you are aware that your physical relationship with that man is completely unacceptable. You have to think of your station and your house. You have already Akiko's blood on—"
Subaru winced and very slowly turned toward her. "If you bring Akiko into this, I am going to go out of that door and I will not return," he said calmly.
She stared at him for a long moment. "I'm not bringing Akiko into this," she said cautiously. "But because you didn't send her away, she's still considered your bride and you're expected to marry."
"Marry her? She can't bear to be in the same room with me. I can't imagine—" He shook his head. "You can't expect me to live such a lie."
"You wouldn't be the first one. Your father—" she interrupted herself.
"My father...?" Subaru stared at her. "What were you going to say?"
His grandmother's face closed. "We won't be speaking of that," she declared. "And we will not mention your liaison with the Sakurazukamori again. I will inform the elders that the current situation requires you to stay with him, while stressing the importance of your part in the Dao." Her voice was cool, distanced. "There is no need to burden them with knowledge of your regrettable private choices."
Subaru shivered; his heart missed a beat, another, tried to do two at once. ...someone asked him if he needed assistance with that sweater...
No! That wasn't him, that was— He was slipping, reacting to the marks rather than his own senses. He closed his eyes, pressed his palms together, focused on his shields. Blind and deaf for anything else, he meticulously sorted Seishiro's impulses from his own...
His breathing was ragged by the time he was done and looked up to meet his grandmother's worried eyes.
"Are you all right?" she asked, concerned. "You seemed..."
"I'll manage," he bit off against the renewed headache. He couldn't possibly take another painkiller so soon after the last one. "I'm sorry for interrupting you. My nerves are still raw; that's why I'm so sensitive at the moment." He slowly sat down in the free armchair. "Do you see now that Seishiro had good reason to ask whether or not I'm up for five hundred meters?" he laughed cynically. "In the beginning it was five meters. Five. That's less than the width of this room." He drew a deep breath. "He could have made it impossible. And he didn't. I'm not sure what scares me more — that he is so considerate about it or that I'm falling for it."
"He isn't considerate about you. He's concerned about the Dao. Don't ever forget what that man does — to countless innocents, to your sister. Don't forget the day he sprung his trap on you."
"It wasn't a trap." Subaru sighed. "It—"
"Stop protecting him. Less than twelve hours ago he held a gun to your head, intending to shoot you!"
"No, he didn't," Subaru corrected. "We're the ones who practice white onmyojutsu. We put spirit over matter, intention over reality. But that's not his way. For the Sakurazuka, intention isn't important. All that counts is reality — as brutal as it may be. You threatened him. He had to stop you. He did. As simple as that. He never intended to shoot me—"
"You can't know that criminal's mind, Subaru-san! Please be sensible. He—"
"—would have shot me if he had to," Subaru finished his sentence in icy calm. "He didn't because it wasn't necessary. Reality over intention. Matter over spirit. Their symbol isn't the pentagram just to spite us!"
"Isn't it a bit early in the day for discussing philosophy?" Seishiro said idly from the door, setting two large Isetan bags down inside. He checked their contents briefly and handed one to Subaru, not without entwining their fingers briefly. Subaru, embarrassed, found himself clinging. Seishiro frowned and studied him closely. "You slipped, didn't you?" he inquired.
"Briefly," Subaru admitted. "But I picked myself up again."
Shinkansen Osaka-Tokyo
16:26
A big afternoon sun hung low above the mountains in the west, sending its brilliant golden light almost horizontally through the Shinkansen windows. Subaru had already taken the seat at the aisle — his stomach still felt upset and a clear path to the restroom had seemed a good idea — but he hadn't escaped the light. By now, his headache had turned into needles that pierced his eyes in the rhythm of the shadows flitting over his face while the train raced over countless steel bridges towards Tokyo. He placed a hand over his eyes, blocking out the painful flicker for a moment.
"The elders will discuss the situation. I will contact you as soon as I know the particulars," his grandmother had told him before they left. "And I'll have somebody contact you from time to time to make sure you are well. Please be responsible and answer our calls this time."
"Don't have him break into my house." Seishiro's smile had held a dangerous edge. "I worked on my wards after you'd dropped in so unexpectedly."
His grandmother had ignored that. "And Subaru-san, at least stop working on his garden!"
Seishiro had burst out laughing. "That's not a garden. That's the green stuff growing around the house!"
Subaru wasn't sure his grandmother believed it. Her warning still rang in his ears, "Don't ever forget what that man does!" As if he could ever forget. He'd been at the house where Seishiro's mother had lived. The garden there was a place reeking of power and death; not a neglected yard with weeds and a female ginkgo covering the place with smelly fruits.
He glanced sideways at Seishiro and found him sleeping with his head leaned against the window. He's got to be worn out, Subaru thought with a pang of guilt. He won't have slept with grandmother in the room, and the night before that...
Concerned, Subaru studied Seishiro's hands, for once not cloaked in illusions. The dark-red burns surrounding the pentacle-scars weren't as bad as he'd feared and magical wounds healed without scars if scarring wasn't intended, but he couldn't deny that his clan had brought considerable pain to Seishiro as well. He didn't believe that would go without consequences for long. And yet Seishiro looked peaceful in his sleep. And young. Younger than his official thirty-five years — "April 1, 1965" was the date of birth he'd told him years ago, but Subaru was sure it was false, so he hadn't mentioned it last week — but Seishiro's true age couldn't be too different from that or the date wouldn't be believable.
Believable Lies. Unbelievable truths.
During the last four months, Subaru had learned more about the Sakurazukamori than his whole clan had during the last fourteen-hundred years, but he had learned even more about the man behind the title. Intention and reality. How was love defined in absolute terms, when intention didn't matter?
He thought about making Seishiro's sleep a little more comfortable and decided against it. Seishiro wouldn't like to be caught sleeping like this. Subaru smiled. Another two hours before the train reached Tokyo. Another two hours of obviously needed sleep; he just wondered how he could wake him up without...
Five minutes before the station, Subaru accidentally dropped his coat in Seishiro's lap and pretended not to notice him startling awake.
to be continued in