TBX - FM 16

Kalika slowly subsided, as did the sun called with her power, allowing Tsukiyomi's pale light to return, silvery blue after his sister's red-hot flames. The rainstorm in the world of the living died down, leaving Ueno Park and the Sakura's worldly existence dripping with water, while its guardian and his counterpart slept between the Tree's roots, covered in blood and seed that glued the withering petals of both worlds to their skin.
They still personified the Dao; a disheveled Dao frayed by reality; a Dao truly belonging to both worlds now, sleeping in unconscious innocence on the border between...

Ueno-Sakuragi-cho, Tokyo

Heartbeats filled his ears, the chest under his cheek rising and falling with breath. Warm. The blood was dried, the skin healed. He dreamed of arms around him, holding him, keeping him from doing even more harm than he already had. He...
Subaru blinked, confused, finding himself in their bed. Seishiro looked so pale against the black sheets. Subaru reached up, laid trembling fingers on to Seishiro's chest, resting his cheek on his hand, and with each breath he smelled blood and sakura and s—
He barely made it to the bathroom before he was violently sick, lying on hands and knees over the shower drain. Black, coagulated blood and yellow bile... When the spasms brought nothing but pain, he turned on the shower and flopped, exhausted, with his back against the tiled wall, remembering another shower, hours... days... earlier...
Semen on blood had come off his abraded skin in flakes under the constant stream of hot water. Dulled, he'd watched them circle the drain before disappearing forever. So much blood on both their bodies—
A sharp cold blade pressed against his throat. Very slowly, Subaru shifted his gaze; Yue stood in solid form at his side. The jian didn't so much as move with Subaru's own breathing. Water drops from the shower sprayed on its steel, scattering in tiny glittering fountains as they splashed off the central flame pattern. "We've got to talk, Second-source-of-the-Dao."
"Can we postpone it until my head stops feeling like it wants to explode?" Subaru asked. The spirit blade nipped his skin at the words. It didn't hurt more than the raw inside of his throat.

Ten minutes later he sat at the kitchen table, dressed haphazardly in slacks and a partially buttoned shirt, his shaking hands folded around a cup of coffee waiting for a double dose of acetaminophen to kick in. Even lukewarm the coffee wouldn't agree with his upset stomach, but its smell reminded him of normal breakfasts — breakfasts with Seishiro behind his morning paper on the other side of the table, not with a fourteen-hundred-year-old spirit hovering above the box with his case files next to it.
"Why are you here?" Subaru asked.
"Insurance." The voice with its Chinese accent was soft, flowing, befitting one who worshiped Benzaiten.
"I ought to exorcise you." Subaru sipped from his coffee and forced himself not to cringe when his stomach cramped.
"You might want to answer the door first," the past Sakurazukamori said dryly, looking out the kitchen window, one hand resting loosely on the hilt of his sword. "I doubt Sei-chan's wards make exceptions for the police."

~:~:~:~:~

Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West)
Sumeragi Family Residence

Ameru lit an incense stick, bowed deeply in front of Amaterasu at the center of this small home shrine, and clapped his hands thrice. He'd left Kyoto almost twenty years ago and hadn't lived by his name since then, but she still was his kami.
He placed the small, yellowed ofuda flat in front of his knees on the tatami.
"Shuku Do." Pale yellow light enveloped the paper — cheap paper, a receipt from his bookstore in Okinawa, but that was what made his spell possible in the first place: books for knowledge and curiosity, Okinawa for the species — the paper crumpled, shriveled, curled up — "Sho!"
A tiny lizard the color of yellowed washi looked up at him with large golden eyes.
Ameru smiled and put his hand on the floor in front of it. "Come," he said and the house gecko scampered swiftly across his hand to hide inside his sleeve.
The gecko would be his eyes and ears in the main house from now on. Calling a predatory animal as his shikigami was sacrilegious, but the task required a swift opportunism that couldn't be instigated in more docile species. Not for the first time, Ameru wondered if the Sumeragi law restricting shikigami to non-predatory animals wasn't in fact about bloodshed but about docility — of the onmyoji.
He drew a deep breath; these thoughts were probably more sacrilegious than calling a six centimeter long gecko shikigami who'd prey on the spiders while spying on the elders.
Another sacrilegious thought; maybe he ought to start a tally sheet to keep track of them. He stood, smoothed his clothes, and gave a final, apologetic bow to Amaterasu. It was time to pay the twelfth head his respects.

~:~:~:~:~

Ueno-Sakuragi-cho, Tokyo

He dreamed...
...of Subaru, claiming his mouth, his body, his...
...of a woman, black as the night, kissing him, riding him, licking his lips with a tongue of blood while ch'i flooded his core.
Seishiro woke, finding the bedroom dim and the house itself quiet. The slight pull on the marks told him that Subaru wasn't anywhere within its walls. He wearily rubbed the ball of his palm across his dry eyes and felt on the nightstand for his glasses. There were dreams he could do without. He sat, then pushed himself up. The floor was cold under his bare feet; the air fresh against his—
With a frown, he took his dressing gown out of the closet and tied it while padding into the kitchen for a drink. When had he come home anyw—?
He nearly walked into Yue, who blocked — entirely too substantial — the kitchen door.
"Begone," Seishiro growled, freeing his way to a bottle of water from the fridge.
He poured himself a glass and drank, leaning against the kitchen counter.
Damn, he felt like the morning after he and Nokoru had had that argument about lemons in Dry Martinis. Seishiro laid the cool glass against his forehead and considered getting some ice from the freezer. Beside him, Yue took form again. "Begone," Seishiro repeated and his obnoxious predecessor flickered out of existence...
...only to reappear at the kitchen door in a flutter of sakura petals.
Seishiro sighed. "I suppose I can't get rid of you just now, can I?"
Yue gave a shallow bow. "The Sakura insists."
"The Sakura needs an ax." Seishiro sipped from his water.
"That, too," Yue conceded with a laugh. "And rest, after healing you."
Seishiro nodded. So he'd been injured. A spirit healing explained a number of things, especially blackout and thirst. He emptied the remaining water. "I guess it wants an extra treat for that."
"Unnecessary. Your chief of operations proved to be an opulent meal."
"I see." Seishiro refilled his glass. "I assume he didn't walk into a bus." Yue remained silent. Seishiro drank again. "And you're here, because...?"
"You'll need me. It was a close call, closer than you know. If your 'Subaru-kun' hadn't enacted Kali's revitalization of Shiva—"
Seishiro spluttered water onto his pants. "Fuck!"
"Exactly."

Twenty minutes and various dire warnings about his condition later, Seishiro closed the bedroom door and sat down at his desk. Propping his elbows on the writing pad, he rested his head in his hands. If Yue was right, then he wouldn't be able to stay awake for long. "Three hours," Yue had warned him. "Four, if you push yourself." Seishiro ground his teeth.
He had to have been very near death for his ch'i to be depleted that much. But why had the Tree healed him then? Why had the Sakura wasted its power on a fallen guardian? And Subaru... Kali... He shook his head. The last thing he remembered outside his dream was Romiro, squinting despite having the sun at his back. "You shouldn't have broken the rules, Sei-kun."
Three hours.
Romiro wouldn't have staged an outright attack on him without permission. Seishiro rubbed his aching temples. He needed information about the situation in the Mori. Reliable information. Now.
The receiver lay still on the table, beeping faintly. Frowning, he put it back and checked the list of missed calls. Four contacts yesterday. None today. Nokoru's number three times in quick succession, then about an hour later a cellphone number he didn't recognize. Michiko, given the time. He dismissed Nokoru's calls and pressed redial to the cellphone.
=Romiro declared you dead!= Michiko barked into the phone before he even got around to say anything. =And you didn't bother to call for twelve hours! What were you thinking!?"
"That I have to quote Mark Twain too often," Seishiro returned dryly. "Hello, Michiko."
There was a brief silence on the other end. =The connection's secure,= she said at last. =Just how exaggerated was the report of your death?=
"Not much," Seishiro admitted. "It doesn't matter."
More silence; then she drew a breath and said, =You don't have the slightest idea what's been happening here after yesterday's conference, do you?=
"Care to give me a summary?"
=I just sent you a videolog. See for yourself. And Seishiro...=
He cradled the receiver between his shoulder and ear and started his laptop. "Yes?"
=I received a report that the Metropolitan Police Department is investigating the suspected murder of Sakurazuka Seishiro. You might want to clear that up.=
"Too bad Romiro's dead." He entered the password and waited for the email to download and decrypt. "I doubt they'll stage a séance to arrest him."
=Hardly. They arrested Sumeragi instead.=
Seishiro barely caught the receiver before it hit the floor.

Twelve minutes later, Seishiro was staring at the last frame of the video, studying the expression on Subaru's face, the whirl of Sakura petals above the blood stain on the carpet in front of him. The implications were... staggering. Almost in a trance, he raised the receiver back to his ear. "Michiko, I need five days. Do whatever you have to do so I get them."
=What are you planning?=
"First? To get my new chief of operations out of custody."
=Your chief of operations? Does he know that?=
"Not yet." He hung up and closed the laptop. A glance at the bedside clock told him he'd been up for over an hour. He couldn't waste time. Tossing the dressing gown onto the bed, he took underwear, a grey suit and shirt out of the closet.
"You have less than two hours," Yue reminded him, hovering in the door. "Three at most."
"Then I have to be fast."

~:~:~:~:~

Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West)
Sumeragi Family Residence

Lady Sumeragi clapped her hands the final three times and bowed in front of Amaterasu's tablet, before she pushed her wheelchair back to return to her own room. She waited until the fusuma was closed safely behind her. Only then did she allow her back to slump even slightly.
Two of the shoji to the stone garden had been removed and the warm air of spring mingled with the scent of Jinko clinging to her clothes after the offering. Subaru-san's incense was always heavy on wood and earth notes. She'd worried about it, when was younger, but he'd always reached the meditative trance easily despite the lack of ethereal fragrances. However, now that she went to Subaru-san's rooms four times a day to perform the worship she knew her grandson neglected out of necessity, the heavy scents started to feel oppressing.
Maybe she should begin using her own incense instead of his.
In his continued state of impurity it was impossible for him to resume this duty any time soon. She sighed. Given his attitude, it was possible that he wouldn't resume it all. There was only so much filth the clan's reputation could endure. She'd spoken on the council in his favor. It was an honor for the clan that their 13th head was a source of the revitalized Dao. But the other council members couldn't ignore the identity of the Dao's other source, and Subaru-san's despicable involvement with it. She pressed her fingertips tightly into her palm. Should there be anything else...
A quiet scratch on the fusuma had her banish the thought. She straightened. "Yes?"
The fusuma opened a little and Maki bowed at her. "Shiro-san is here for you, Sumeragi-dono."
She sighed. Another stubborn child. "Allow him in and leave us alone, please."

~:~:~:~:~

Kasumigaseki, Tokyo
Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department
Criminal Investigation Bureau — Homicide Division

The room was bleak, held in functional grey with narrow windows high up the wall and furniture bolted to the floor. There were cameras in the corners of the ceiling and a white plastic cup with water stood in front of him on the table; a spot of purity in a place soiled with crime and hatred. Subaru hadn't touched it; he fit the place not the cup. Yet his eyes remained fixed on the cup even when Kono-san and a second man entered the room.
"Sumeragi-san? My partner, detective Kobayashi," Kono introduced his colleague, who sat down to the side, just outside Subaru's field of vision, while Kono put a manila folder and another plastic cup on the table. Coffee had sloshed over its brim, staining the plastic. Subaru licked his lip. A stained cup. He could touch a stained cup. The coffee smelled good. Seishiro always had coffee for breakfast—
"I didn't expect to meet you under circumstances like these," Kono said, taking a seat on the chair opposite Subaru. He opened the folder. "You're here because we have a couple of questions regarding your visit to Central Government Office Complex 6-B yesterday."
Subaru nodded.
Kono took up the card Subaru had given him in Ueno Park last Sunday. "I was surprised that you moved from upscale Shinjuku to an area as remote as Ueno-Sakuragi. Even moving in with someone." He studied the scribbled address. "Sakurazuka Seishiro," he read, watching Subaru attentively now. "Is he the same Sakurazuka Seishiro, who accompanied you in 1990?"
Subaru's mouth was dry. The plastic cup with water gleamed in forbidding white. He swallowed painfully. "Yes."
Kono exchanged a glance with his partner. "What kind of relationship do you have with him?"
"We're in the same business." His voice sounded hoarse even to Subaru's own ears.
"Were there any frictions between him and you?" Kono inquired.
..."Payment?" Seishiro asked, laughing.
Subaru caught his wrist. "Don't forget my change."...
He shook his head. "No, I—"
"Sumeragi-san," Kobayashi interrupted. "What's with the injury on your throat?"
Subaru's hand involuntarily reached up to cover the cut with his hand, felt scab under his fingers where...
...the wind sickle cut him. "I'd rather see you dead than in my bed."
"...That right wasn't given to your position..."
Blood rained to the floor from a body ground to death by sakura petals for Kali's pleasure. The black goddess raged in his veins, surmounting Amaterasu's fires.
Blood and corpses on the ground. He denied Kali her dance, denied her her worship.
Ashes in the spirit world. He couldn't deny her her mate... his mate... He caught Seishiro's mouth in a deep, hungry, demanding kiss. Biting down, drinking him in. Raindrops danced on his skin as he claimed... Kali claimed... Seishiro for the living. He tried to reach for Amaterasu, but there was only Kali in the corpse and the blood—
"—identified as Sakurazuka Seishiro's." Kono took a couple of pictures from the folder, placing them on the table in front of Subaru. A series of grainy black-and-white screenshots showed Subaru going into the building opposite the MPD headquarters, his boots leaving dark prints on the pale steps. "Can you explain these?"
An A4 color photograph was laid on top. The same steps, the same footprints...
...in blood. So much blood. Subaru shivered. This morning, his nails had been lined with it, like they'd been after Kamui brought him back from Rainbow Bridge. He—
"—we've got to talk, Sumeragi-san!" He winced at the loud slap of Kobayashi's hand on the table top. "That includes you. Talking. I'll ask you outright: did you kill Sakurazuka Seishiro?"
Seishiro in his arms, chest pierced and blood spreading on the concrete, torn flesh sucking around his wrist at each laborious breath, each halting word...
"Yes," Subaru said.
"Detectives!" A uniformed police officer opened the interrogation room after a brief knock. "There's somebody for you at the information desk."

~:~:~:~:~

The moment they entered the reception area, Kono knew that something was wrong with their case — and with Sumeragi; it was a good thing they'd left the uniformed officer with him in the interview room. Kobayashi next to him also missed a step. The man waiting at the front desk was tall, broad-shouldered, and familiar. He hadn't changed much in the last ten years, and even though their suspect was Japan's best onmyoji, this man was way too alive to be a ghost.
"Sakurazuka-san," Kono greeted him calmly.
"Detective." A nod acknowledged him; Kono noticed that Sakurazuka's glasses were just tinted enough to obscure his eyes. "I was informed about an ongoing investigation regarding my assassination," Sakurazuka continued. "I thought I should assure you that I am still quite alive."
"Can you identify yourself?" Sakurazuka provided an official passport in the dark green color denoting a public servant. "Do you still work as a veterinarian?" Kono asked casually as he took it.
"Not for the moment."
"What do you do—" Kono opened the passport and stopped. An NPSC stamp on the first page obscured the fields "Date of birth" and "Registered domicile". He closed the passport quickly and handed it back. "Thank you for your assistance."
"But what's with the blood that's been identified as yours?" Kobayashi asked. "Forensics calculated a lethal amount—"
"If it were a lethal amount, I wouldn't be here, would I?" Sakurazuka seemed genuinely amused as he pocketed his passport. "I trust that the investigation will be halted."
"Consider the case closed," Kono said gruffly. "May I ask what kind of relationship you have with Sumeragi-san, Sakurazuka-san?"
"I'm afraid I do not see how that concerns you."
"He confessed to killing you less than ten minutes ago," Kobayashi exploded. "We can't possibly ignore—"
"I'm the supposed victim, detective." Sakurazuka took off his glasses, studying Kobayashi with icy calm. "Since I am not dead, he is obviously mistaken."

~:~:~:~:~

Leaving the MPD, Seishiro glanced at his watch and headed straight across the busy Sakurada-dori towards the parking lot where his car had stood since yesterday. It had taken too long to get Subaru out of custody. At least the Aristo hadn't been towed.
Yellow paint next to it marked the spot where his blood had been spilled. More paint marks indicated footprints running from his car towards the house. He sighed and opened the driver's door. Subaru would have to work on his subtlety. Even now he was looking, transfixed, at the paint, then back towards the MPD. Work a lot.
"Stop acting guilty," Seishiro scolded impatiently. "And get in the car. We're still within sight." He started the engine and waited for Subaru to fasten his seatbelt, before he turned and drove down Sakurada-dori. A plain beige Mitsubishi Lancer left the MPD garage as they passed and went into the lane a few cars behind them. "We'll have to take a room. I won't last all the way back to Sakuragi now."
"Here?" Subaru asked, doubtful.
Seishiro didn't answer. Two turns later, he was sure the beige compact was following them; apparently, the detectives had split up for the observation before they checked his identity. Too bad. For them. He switched lanes again and pulled into the drive-in garage of his destination. Stopping in one of the first screened lots, he turned off the engine. A sign on the white-washed wall in front of them read:

"You aren't serious, are you?" Subaru shook his head.
"Dead serious, pardon the pun." Seishiro got out of the car and headed for the lifts. Subaru followed him with a sigh. "Feel honored. This is the only establishment of its kind in Nagata-cho. Who do you think comes here?" A brief glance through the already closed doors confirmed that the beige compact didn't follow them. Seishiro smirked. Public services budgets did have their limits. "The theme rooms feature presidential offices around the world." He studied the board of lit room photographs and price tags next to the lift and shook his head. "I don't know why the 'Oval Office' is always taken; the desk looks decidedly uncomfortable." He chose a room decorated in dark colors and placed a bundle of ten thousand yen notes in the pay machine, sufficient for at least eight hours. An electronic keycard was returned and the lift moved up.
Room 4-17 could have been a suite in any well-situated business hotel in Tokyo, except for a couple of vending machines and an alcove holding a karaoke set — a feature Subaru studied with an expression of dread. The door sealed behind them and Seishiro checked the lock routinely. Normally, he'd put his own seal on the door — just in case — but he knew better than to risk spells so soon after a healing. That was a lesson he'd learned after Kobe's port authority and customs control had somehow missed a fully-fledged Demonar on an LNG carrier. Kobe—
Damn, he was losing focus. He didn't have much time left. Seishiro tossed his jacket over a chair, got himself iced water from the minibar and sat down on the left side of the bed. His fingers were already going numb when he undid the buttons at his cuffs and collar a few sips later. After removing his belt, he gave in to his exhaustion, lay down and closed his eyes.
Already half out, he felt the mattress move and Subaru tugging at his shirt, clumsily opening the buttons in the dark. Seishiro tensed, but only cool, trembling hands slipped onto his skin. Subaru curled up beside him, resting his cheek on his chest.

...the surrounding darkness slowly gave way to a faint, dark-red glow above and around him. Rough bark pressed into his skin. The glow grew stronger, the maroon of old blood becoming the crimson of fresh blood and the pink of blood absorbed in petals...
Seishiro jumped to the ground. Keeping a hand firmly on the trunk, he squinted into the endless nothing beyond. Squinted... Since when did he need glasses in the spirit world?
A petal fluttered down his cheek. An ethereal touch... A breath touching behind his ear...
His mother said, "There is nothing more wonderful than being killed by the one you love."
"You don't understand." Subaru caught his arm, turned him away from her. "Why aren't you dead?"
"There can't be anyone I love," he heard himself saying.
"I think you're making a mistake," Nokoru said behind his left shoulder.
"This isn't one of your games!" Subaru pushed him back against the black wood of the trunk, pressing in on him. "I want to see you and not an illusion of you!"
"You have nothing to fear from death." His mother's fingers danced down his side, dipping between his legs. "You have nothing precious. Nothing you would regret losing."
...are you sure?... the Sakura rustled above him.

Sweat-soaked, Seishiro sat up straight; the cover pooled in his lap. Subaru, still sleeping beside him, murmured something against his side.

~:~:~:~:~

Sakura Enterprises, Osaka
April 14, 2000 — 16:58

Fujiwara Michiko, chief of operations of the Osaka office, sealed the conference room and waited while her peregrine circled the room twice, to settle comfortably on her shoulder. Satisfied, she released the shikigami with a nod and sat down behind the front desk. This was going to be an interesting session.
She activated the connection and waited for the strongly scrambled video conference with its blurred participants to establish. Kyushu and Korea had already arrived. Hokkaido was late, as always. They all knew that Honshu wouldn't come.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she said firmly. "Allow me to begin with an announcement. Contrary to the former Honshu-san's statement, the position of the Sakurazukamori is not vacant—"
There were a couple of sharp intakes and Hokkaido-san cleared his throat.
"—and has not been vacant at any time in the last twenty years."
A muttered =Good.= came from the screen labeled "Korea"; "Hokkaido" and "Kyushu" said nothing.
"Sakurazuka contacted me this morning, confirming his continuing service and reminding us that he will decide about the Honshu division within the week, according to protocol."
=Now, that would be a first!= Kyushu snorted. =Hear my words: We're going to need completely new staff for Honshu, once he's done!=
Bet on it, Michiko thought grimly. And you're lucky if it's only Honshu.

~:~:~:~:~

Nagata-cho, Tokyo
Hotel White House — Room 4-17
20:17

Subaru woke in a nest of twisted sheets. The shower was running next door. A used food tray stood on the floor next to the service lift. It looked like Seishiro had been up for a while.
Freeing his legs, Subaru sat up and set his feet to the floor. The sound of water stopped; a few moments later, Seishiro came out of the bathroom. His movements were normal, forceful as usual. A narrow line of silvery skin on his back, less than the width of two fingers long, was all that remained of the injury and—
Subaru locked his eyes firmly down on his own hands. He was still feeling Seishiro beneath him, was hearing the wet sounds of blood and crushed petals between them as he drove into him again and again, drunken from the cold flesh touching his own. He'd bitten down, hard, grinding his teeth around Seishiro's collarbone when the Sakura took him, sharp, painful thrusts forcing him to continue until Seishiro convulsed around him and golden eyes flew open, wide with pain—
Subaru clasped his knees until his knuckles stood out white and wished that Seishiro's suit would come back from ironing. The Sakura had healed more than the stab wound. Much more. And Seishiro, in nothing but black briefs and socks, seemed oblivious of that. Subaru closed his eyes. If he—
The service lift pinged. Seishiro retrieved his suit. The bite on his shoulder was gone. Subaru shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself.
"What's wrong?"
Subaru couldn't tell him. It wasn't Kali who had chosen her mate. Kali who'd— "I... You have to..." he heard himself whisper. "Keep me from hurting you."
Seishiro, pulling up his pants, snorted. "As if you could."
"I couldn't... stop. And I wanted, I tried, I—"
"You called Kali. What did you expect?" Seishiro asked wryly. "The heart of creation is chaos. It's gates are death and sex. And the Vamachara is a shortcut through both." He shrugged into his shirt, the silk of the unbuttoned fabric fluttering around him. Grey and silver... like Yue... A ghost to be banished, to be exorcised for meddling with the affairs of the living. But Subaru had felt his heartbeat this morning with hands tarnished with blood and death. He stood. He couldn't continue like this. He—
"Excuse me," he said and went into the bathroom.

The room was large, with black marble and mirrors still fogged from Seishiro's long shower. Subaru wiped his right sleeve across the mirror above the sink and studied his face, expecting... he didn't know what. A good onmyoji was able to sense his own aura, but only the aura of other people could be seen. Others would have to judge the stains on him now.
Blood and death. The burakumin had been ostracized for that. He ran his hand across his face. Onmyoji as diviners had shared their fate as hisabetsumin in the early days; but they'd remained pure and with his family's ties to Amaterasu...
He shivered. Blood and ash. Sap, semen, death...
He stared at his hands, white and smooth from years under gloves. He turned the cold water on full and scrubbed them. The washcloth was too soft. The brush was better. He pushed his sleeves up over his elbows, scrubbed up his arms...
His wrists were caught. The brush cluttered down into the sink when Seishiro pulled him back, trapped him behind his own crossed arms, a solid form against Subaru's rigid back. "If you wash your hands any more, there'll be nothing left of your skin."
"I need to cleanse myself!" There was a sob. Was that him? "I— I've killed. The blood—"
"You were the vessel, not the weapon," came Seishiro's voice. "Kali did the rest."
"I—" He sagged against Seishiro, into his arms, his damning hold on him. "I vowed to kill you. I wanted to be killed by you." He turned, buried his face against Seishiro's throat. "Now I killed for you..."
"Wrong." Seishiro shoved him back. "You allowed the Tree to kill for me." There were stains on Seishiro's sleeves where the soap from Subaru's arms had soaked into them. Subaru stared at them... at Seishiro.
The Tree... Kali... he...
Was Seishiro stained because of him? Did he— He closed a shaking hand over one of the stains on Seishiro's sleeve. "Yesterday... did I hurt you?"
Seishiro freed his arm with a sharp jerk.
Subaru caught him. "Please. I need—" He reached up, tiptoed, crossed his wrists loosely in Seishiro's nape and claimed his lips, open-mouthed, startling himself at the hunger in it.
His hunger. Not Kali's.
Closing his eyes, he dug his fingers into Seishiro's hair, pulling Seishiro against him. "You aren't dead," he whispered, fiercely, into the kiss. "You aren't." He felt the tension, expected the final strike to come any moment with an arm through his chest and... around his back, supporting him, holding him. Seishiro. All he felt was Seishiro. Seishiro and—
Over Seishiro's shoulder, he saw himself, his bare, red-scraped arms still lying around Seishiro's neck. The steam had cleared from the mirror showing Subaru Seishiro's tousled hair and his own rumpled clothes. He averted his eyes.
Don't look. Don't see. Pretend you didn't do what you just did, Hokuto's exuberant voice sang in his ears. And. Do. It. He remembered her laughing at the last line, while the hand that had killed her caressed his back.
"You've got unexpected talents, Subaru-kun." Seishiro's quip sounded strangely breathless.

Chuo-ku, Tokyo
Shuto Expressway 1 — Ueno Route
twenty minutes later

The traffic was thick, moving slowly, if at all. The question — when it finally came — was deceptively casual. "Who taught you that?"
Subaru didn't have to ask what 'that' meant. "Hokuto-chan. Don't you recall that day on Tokyo Tower?"
"I remember you considering it perverted."
"I still do," Subaru said quietly, avoiding Seishiro's eyes in the rearview mirror as the traffic stopped them once again. "I just stopped caring about it."
Somebody honked. Seishiro returned his attention to the traffic. "We have to sort out the mess Romiro made to build his trap," he said several minutes later.
"I know." Subaru sighed. "Four mutilated spirits and—"
"You're not going anywhere near those sites." Seishiro gave him a stern look. "Policemen have a good memory, Subaru-kun. You were the suspect in a homicide case; they won't forget that fact any time soon."
"Homicide case? You're here and alive!"
"It was one when you were interviewed." Seishiro snorted. "So you will stay out of it. Aren't there any onmyoji within your clan who can take those tasks?"
Subaru sighed. "Omi might be strong enough and he's within reach."
"Good. Call him when we get home." Seishiro changed lanes. "And make sure he brings some time. Somebody has to do your work while we sort out your family affairs." He turned on the indicator to take the Ueno exit. "And mine."

They left the car in the reserved parking lot at Ueno Station and crossed through the park on the way to Sakuragi. Subaru insisted on giving the Sakura an extra wide berth. Seishiro didn't seem to mind. They walked in silence. Eyes seemed to rest on them from the dark; Subaru thought of the dead soldiers guarding Ueno and the Sakura in the spirit world. He'd gained their respect. And probably lost it yesterday. He didn't know.
He was crossing the park at the side of the Sakurazukamori. Subaru shivered. In this and the other world, they were truly each other's reflection.
What he was for the world of the living, Seishiro was for the world of the dead. The guardian. The protector... against perpetrators from the other side. They guarded the same border, the same untouchable surface...
For a brief moment, a breeze moved the branches above their heads. The light of an almost full moon broke through the foliage, passing over rows of spirit soldiers shielding their path on either side before the spiritual darkness of mere electric lighting returned.

When they finally got home, the single street lamp in front of their house was flickering in a halo of hapless insects. Seishiro unlocked the garden gate and made sure that it closed quietly behind them.
Inside the house, he kicked off his shoes and headed straight up the stairs to the kitchen. "Supper! I'm starving."
Subaru followed him more slowly. The box with his case files still stood on the floor next to the table; he ignored it. He pulled out a chair and sat down, propping his elbows on the place mat. "What did you mean by 'sorting out our family affairs'?"
Seishiro sniffed at the content of an orange tupperna box and put it in the microwave, then he leaned against the counter and studied Subaru calmly. "I was surprised to learn that you helped rid the world of my chief of operations," he said finally and leisurely crossed his ankles. In his slightly crumpled dress pants and shirt, he was a grey shadow against the lime green of his kitchen. "I expect to see you at the office on Monday."
"What office?" Subaru looked at him, uncomprehending.
"Romiro's."
Subaru laughed. "Are you insane?"
"You are the living entity involved in removing him from office," Seishiro explained calmly. "A classic succession by Mori standards."
A classic suc— Subaru froze. Seishiro couldn't possibly suggest that— He sat back. "You're serious."
"Yes." Seishiro crossed his arms. "So, I'm short a chief of operations. Interested?"
"No. I'd be crazy to work for you."
"Not 'for'. With. You'd be working with me." Seishiro sighed. "Think about it. It's what we did in the last four months."
"Not like that!" Subaru protested. "And unofficially. Without anyone knowing. Did you forget who I am? Your people would never—"
"You offed him in front of four out of five section leaders." Subaru winced, but Seishiro didn't pay attention to that. "They either accept you or they have to abolish their rules." The microwave beeped and he retrieved the rice and brought it to the table, making a pointedly large step across Subaru's case files. "Look on the bright side. At least, you'll get an office with a desk and a file cabinet of your own." He went to fetch dishes and chopsticks.
"And I'd be working for... with... my clan's greatest enemy on business my clan considers beyond contempt," Subaru snapped. "I'm on the verge of being expelled because you are the other source of the Dao. Do you have any idea what they'd do to me for this?"
"Can't be worse than what mine already did." Seishiro rummaged in one of the hanging cabinets. "But I concede that the idea might be a bit taxing to their ethical system." He returned to the table with two glass dishes. "We better get them in hand first."
"Get in hand? They won't even listen to me!"
"Then we'll make them." Seishiro unfolded his napkin with a sharp flap and placed it in his lap. He reached for his chopsticks. "Itadakimasu."
Subaru didn't feel like eating.

In Ueno, the Tree dug additional roots deep into the ground, sucking up blood that colored its blossoms a dark crimson in the pale light of the waxing moon. The raging of Romiro's infuriated spirit tickled in its veins.
Full moon would be in five nights.
Idly, the Sakura wondered if all of Seishiro's Mori would be as tasty as Ro-chan.

to be continued in
Family Matters 17 - Solar Eclipse

Notes:
Kali's revitalization of Shiva. Kali is Shakti, energy itself. Her spouse, Shiva, is an emblem of consciousness. According to the tantric phraseology "Only when Shiva is (sexually) united with Shakti has Shiva power to act. Otherwise he is a corpse (shava)." In short: Shiva without Shakti is Shava.
Central Government Office Complex 6-B. The building of Sakura Enterprises doesn't exist. However, the Ministry of Justice's red brick building is "Central Government Office Complex 6" and the highrises behind it are "Central Government Office Complex 6-A", hence...
The "White House" is entirely fictitious. I have no knowledge of a love hotel within Kasumigaseki or Nagata-cho. Esp. given that Japanese love hotels normally don't admit same-sex couples for fear of voyeurism.
Burakumin and hisabetsumin. Hisabetsumin is a collective term for people ostracized from the general populace in Heian times because they were seen as being defiled, polluted (kegare) mostly due to their work, which brought them in contact with blood, death, or the otherworld. Among the ostracized professions were artisans, prostitutes, diviners (including onmyoji!), undertakers, butchers, etc. Discrimination against the Burakumin (contemporary descendants of and dwellers of former Hisabetsumin communities) was formally ended in 1871, but it is still a contemporary problem.

Family Matters 16

SumeraMori 2