Tendrils of power, delicately woven, rewoven, strengthened, spread from Ueno Park to Sakuragi and the Yanaka cemetery beyond. Still blood-colored blossoms quivered in the spirit wind. The wards around Seishiro's house were as strong as ever. The wards around the basement holding Yue's first enemy captive were even stronger; a burning sphere within the spirit world, containing someone who, in life, had burned even hotter. Hot enough to cauterize branches. His assault had left one of very few scars the Tree hadn't been able to heal over more than a millennium.
Foreign symbols were engraved in the walls holding him these days; symbols of ice unaffected by the heat. The Sakura was fascinated by them, fascinated — and disquieted.
Runes, as Sei-chan had called them, were immediate. They were paid for when invoked, with blood and pain, courage and determination. There was no sakanagi afterwards, but consummation in case of failure.
An intriguing concept that excluded Yue and the Emperor's Murderer equally, because they both lacked the physical body with which to invoke the runes. And the Sakura, being physically a plant...
It brushed a spirit blossom along the cold outline of a rune. Hoar frost covered the delicate petals, while the spirit inside roared in fury. But the rune didn't react, as if the ancient power of over 2600 years didn't exist for it.
Nozomi Shinkansen to Kyoto, departure Tokyo Station, 18:10
April 15, 2000
The green class car was crowded with businessmen searching for their reserved seats. A railway attendant helped an older woman with her luggage. Somebody was booting a laptop a few rows away from them.
Subaru hung their coats on the hooks next to the window before sitting down. Beside him, Seishiro retrieved his paperback novel and lifted their trolley into the small luggage compartment overhead. A melodious voice told them about their departure in two minutes and the arrival times at the following stations. Subaru pulled Seishiro's coat over the edge of his headrest and nestled his cheek into the smooth cloth, watching the platform outside.
A woman with two children was waiting for the train to depart. The younger girl seemed to be close to tears; the older tried to appear unaffected. Subaru looked along the gap between the windows and the seats in front of him and saw a man's hand — white cuff, black jacket sleeve, gold cufflink with a company logo — pressed against the glass.
The station speakers, dulled inside, announced their impending departure. The girls waved when the train began to move. In two and a half hours they'd be in Kyoto. A little more than three hours and they'd be at the main estate. By then Seishiro would be pushing his limits.
Beside Subaru, with his seat comfortably inclined, Seishiro was reading already. Aggressive red and white letters spilled the title over the upper half of his paperback: Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. The book had stirred up considerable excitement among highschoolers. Was Seishiro reading for entertainment or...?
Subaru turned away, looked at the houses rushing past the window outside.
"We should offer joint services," Seishiro had joked when Subaru had sat droopy-eyed at breakfast today, after a sleepless night spent preparing case files for Omi. "They have the problem; we decide on the remedy."
Subaru rested his chin in his hand. It would be a heavy burden for his people. If the Sumeragi failed, the Sakurazukamori provided a "terminal solution". Right now, when a case was wrongly assigned, they could back down, pretending not to know what happened next.
Are you less of a murderer because you preferred to be ignorant of my likely intentions? the Sakura had asked him in the old reality. Are you less of a murderer because you are Sumeragi?
Prefer to be ignorant...
Pretend not to know...
Subaru exhaled sharply and leaned back in his seat. His family was skilled in pretending, but pretense was no longer an option for himself. Something in him had answered to Kali, had fiercely embraced what was his — hers? — and wouldn't let go even after the goddess had faded. Something that didn't care for pretense. Or propriety, for that matter. Or chastity. He glanced sideways at Seishiro who had dozed off over his novel, the open book lying on his chest. The silk lining of his unbuttoned suit jacket had the same crimson color as the letters of the book title.
Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West)
Sumeragi Family Residence
21:12
The stone lanterns lining the driveway were lit when the car turned onto the estate, their electric lights rushing past and finally mingling with the soft glow coming from the shoji of the house. The fire bowls left and right of the stairs to the engawa, warding against evil and misfortune, flickered as they got out of the car. Leaving Hamamatsu to deal with the luggage, they headed up the stairs. Subaru hadn't given him a chance to call home after collecting them at Kyoto station, but going by the preparations, his grandmother had expected him not to come alone. The door opened when they reached the topmost step and the head servant bowed to him. "Be welcome in your house, Sumeragi-sama." She threw a nervous glance at Seishiro and added, "and also your guest."
"Thank you, Rumiko-san. It's good to be here again." Formal words. Empty lines. Subaru felt them echoing in the void. He did not say 'tadaima'.
"I will be under your honorable care from now on," Seishiro said quietly behind him and his ironical smile when Subaru looked over his shoulder turned the set phrase into something else entirely.
"Your grandmother is awaiting you." Rumiko bowed again.
"Please see our luggage to my room and prepare the futons. It's been a long day." Subaru turned his attention to Seishiro. "Please wait while I pay my respects. I won't take long."
"Take your time." Seishiro shrugged, watching Hamamatsu come through the door with the trolley.
The dark-framed fusuma of the tea room were pushed back soundlessly as Subaru approached. His grandmother acknowledged him with a quiet nod. She wore her dark blue kimono embroidered with protective star constellations. The kimono itself was a piece of art and power, made by his great-great-grandmother in the last days of the Shogunate. His grandmother was reminding him of the traditions he had failed to uphold and the threat of the guest he had brought into her home.
He bowed, and she indicated the tea set standing prepared at her side and the sitting cushion laid out for him before her. The shoji to the garden were closed. It was years since they had been open during one of his visits. He sat down quietly, resting his crossed hands on his knees, while she stirred the green tea into a bitter foam.
It was late. He'd gone with too little sleep in the nights before, and he wished that she'd just say what she had to say and be done with it. But that wasn't his grandmother's style and so he waited, trying not to fret about having left Seishiro in the hall, not to think about the blood on his own hands. Finally, his grandmother laid the tea brush aside and offered the bowl. Subaru accepted it gracefully from her hands, turned it properly and took the ritual sip, no more than a wetting of lips.
"Your resolve not to bring the enemy into our house didn't last long, Subaru-san."
He put the tea bowl down, not intending to touch it again. "The events during the past eight days forced me to reconsider my decision. I have to address the elder council immediately."
"I assume the matter is related to the police inquiry about you that arrived this morning?"
"That was a misunderstanding. The investigation has been stopped already and the case is closed."
"I am aware of that," his grandmother said frostily. "The fax revoking the inquiry actually arrived beforehand. However, the fact remains that you were the suspect in a heinous crime and that the police found it advisable to inquire about your personal conduct, specifically about your relationship with one Sakurazuka Seishiro, leading me to believe that he is actually the one behind the crime of which you were accused." She studied him sternly. When he said nothing, she prompted, "Was it that way, Subaru-san? Are you shielding him from the law?"
"No," he said firmly.
"So the Sakurazukamori wasn't involved in the crime?" she pressed.
Subaru swallowed. "Not as perpetra—" A flash of power surged through the wards spanning the estate. His grandmother made a protective sign. The scars on Subaru's hands flashed briefly. A query. Weak. "No!" He leaped to his feet.
The front hall thrummed with tension when Subaru arrived. The dark-red suit trolley was still there with Hamamatsu behind it, pointing his service weapon—
—straight at Seishiro, who was returning the favor.
"What's going on here?" Subaru asked sharply, directed at Seishiro.
"He used an ofuda against me!" Hamamatsu snapped instead.
"Would I have to point a gun at you if I had?" Seishiro asked him smugly.
"To obscure your intention?" Hamamatsu sneered. "Of course!"
"More precisely, Subaru-kun—" Seishiro's weapon didn't move at his words. "Would he be pointing a gun at me if I had?"
"Look at it!" Hamamatsu told Subaru. "The ofuda's still there!" He indicated a yellowed slip of paper on the floor between Seishiro and himself.
Subaru picked it up and turned it around. "This is a shopping receipt!" He flapped it against his palm. "Down with the weapons. Both of you!" With a sharp glare at Seishiro, who hadn't moved, he added, "Please." Seishiro lowered the gun. Subaru released a sigh of relief. "Hamamatsu-kun, refrain from pointing weapons at my guests. Somebody might get hurt."
"You, to be exact," Seishiro added calmly, while returning his weapon to the concealed holster under his left arm.
"Subaru-san?" Grandmother's stern inquiry was underlain with the faint creaks of the wheelchair coming closer. "What's going on here?"
"Just a misunderstanding," Subaru replied and — in passing — pressed the receipt into Seishiro's palm. "Vanish it," he hissed. Aloud, he explained, "Hamamatsu-kun overreacted."
"Recently, there are a lot misunderstandings around you, Subaru-san."
"I am aware of that, grandmother." Subaru shot a warning glare at Seishiro, who leaned against the wall, seemingly relaxed. Leaned. "Why wasn't our luggage brought to my room?"
"Your guest wasn't expected, Subaru-san," his grandmother reminded him. "One of the guest rooms is being prepared as we speak."
"No," Subaru said curtly. "Have a second futon put next to mine."
She stared at him, shocked. "Subaru-san! You can't possibly let an enemy of the house sleep in front of the kamidana! The west wing—"
"He sleeps with me," Subaru stated coldly. "Do you want to banish me to the west wing?"
Subaru didn't turn on the lights when the fusuma finally closed behind them. More than a dozen reverence lights had been lit in front of the kamidana, as if the sacred kami tablets were to be shielded from the impurity of their visitor... or the returned head of their house. The flames flickered. In the unsteady light Seishiro finally discarded his jacket, hanging it over the back of the single dark wood chair that stood in a corner of the room. His fingertips slipped off the shirt buttons repeatedly. Subaru saw him closing his eyes, focusing before continuing down the button row. Each button took more time, more attempts. Subaru went over to him. The dancing reverence lights would protect their shadows on the shoji from being read by the countless eyes doubtlessly turned to the room.
"Allow me to help," he said in a low voice, reaching for the remaining buttons. "Please." No protest. He cautiously unclipped the holster from Seishiro's belt and laid it onto the chair with the jacket. "I'd like it if you stopped wearing weapons in my house. It's disquieting."
Seishiro snorted. "I carry a gun in my own office."
"As if you needed it." Subaru sighed. "What kind of spell was on that receipt?"
"An observer shiki. Your driver overreacted." Seishiro rested his head against Subaru's temple. "Don't allow them to order you around," he said quietly, his breath moving Subaru's hair. "You are the head of your house. You don't go to them, you receive them. If you give them superiority in detail, they gain superiority in the whole. You can't afford that."
"I know, but my grandmother is upset. The police inquired about me."
"That's nothing. The case is closed."
"They inquired. That means I'm no longer above suspicion."
"Above suspicion. Beyond all blame." Seishiro chuckled. "Nobody's above the law, doesn't she know that?"
"She's Sumeragi," Subaru said dryly, working on the last button.
"Of course. Forget I asked."
~:~:~:~:~
April 16, 2000
Seishiro woke suddenly. Footsteps neared on the engawa, slowed, halted. For a moment, a dark shadow loomed against the light from the fire bowl outside; then the guard continued his round. Seishiro relaxed slowly. He felt the disquiet of the Sakura in the distance. The Tree had restored him from certain death, in spite of a ready successor at hand, and it didn't want him to put himself at risk until he was fit again. It had used Subaru to get to Romiro, and sent Yue, of all his predecessors, as a guardian into his house while it recovered from the task. It didn't make sense.
Nothing made sense.
He shivered and lay back down, trying to get comfortable despite the dozen reverence lights spreading the scent of oppressive incense and the various fires outside. Given the number of open flames in and around the old house through the night, he was surprised that the whole estate hadn't burned to the ground centuries ago.
Probably it had burned — and been rebuilt. Multiple times. It was the kind of stubbornness he'd come to expect from the Sumeragi. In their eyes, having the place burn down around your ears was an acceptable price for being safe from spiritual stain. He sneezed. As was being bothered by incense.
The sound of constricted breaths came from Subaru's shadowed form, followed by a faint wheeze. Frowning, Seishiro sat up again. "What's—?"
"No! Akiko—" Subaru jerked awake. In the dim light Seishiro saw him pressing his face against his knees, hugging his legs, shaking. "I'm sorry..." His ragged breaths were loud in the darkness. Sweat gleamed on his skin. "I didn't mean to—" He coughed and looked up. His eyes were too wide in the dark. Too wide, and frightened.
Seishiro stood, made a step across Subaru's futon, freed himself with a sharp twist from the hand clutching his pajama leg and pushed the shoji to the engawa wide open. Cold night air, traced with smoke from the fire bowls, flooded the room. A startled girl, probably five or six years old, stared at him from her place next to the fire. Maybe the place hadn't burned down as often as he thought. The reverence lights flickered low in the continuous draft from the night wind, driving the stifling scents of shikimi and patchouli away, as he returned into the darkened room.
Subaru shivered in the cold air, but his erratic breathing had calmed. Seishiro watched him quietly. Better, he decided. Amaterasu's spirit tablet glowed in white sakura wood emblazoned with gold on the kamidana beside him. He considered it — Her — and extinguished the lights. Much better.
"How dare you—" Subaru started to rise.
Seishiro caught his wrist, pulled him back down. "Have the oil replaced with something unscented tomorrow. Shikimi doesn't agree with you."
"But I—"
"Shikimi doesn't agree with me, either," Seishiro told him coldly. "And I don't intend to put up with it." Or with that 'Akiko' occupying his prey's dreams, but that could wait until tomorrow, when he'd got rid of the one spying on him with an insufficiently-screened gecko shikigami. He pulled the cover over his ears against the cold draft from the open shoji.
~:~:~:~:~
The first gong echoed through the house. Three sharp, high beats announcing Amaterasu's impending arrival gave her disciples thirty minutes to rise, cleanse themselves, light new reverence lights and bow their respects before taking their positions in the morning ceremony.
The room was cold. Beside him, Seishiro, completely hidden under the cover, mumbled something about 'god-forsaken time' and slept on. But then, Amaterasu wasn't his kami. Subaru frowned. Who was Seishiro's kami? Did he worship at all? For the first time, he realized that there was no kamidana, no place of worship in Seishiro's house. He'd never seen him in prayer, never saw him lighting a warding fire or offering incense—
"Shikimi doesn't agree with you." As if fragrance mattered in worship.
Subaru wondered if the faint throbbing behind his temples was really because of the unusual shikimi in the incense or because of everything else. He looked at Seishiro, who seemed to be sound asleep again, and silently prayed that he hadn't called out when he had woken up in the night. The situation was bad enough as it was, without him having to defend his fiancée against his lov—
He startled at the word.
You of all people should know that I'm capable of betrayal.
But wasn't Subaru the one who betrayed... everyone? It was one thing when the head of a house didn't lie with his wife, didn't produce the required heir, thus failing in filial piety; it was another for him to lie in the arms of the enemy, seeking lust, pleasure... love?... while failing in filial piety. And having proclaimed it openly to the former clan head, who sat on the elder council, wouldn't make the upcoming confrontation with the elders easier. With Akiko he had failed, was still failing, in his duty; with Seishiro he was voluntarily committing far worse.
And yet…
The second gong, a reminder for laggards, reverberated painfully in Subaru's head. The fire bowl outside had burned low already. The child watching it overnight had left her post; she would have hurried to clean herself and sit in the last row to welcome Amaterasu. He had to leave now or he'd be late for the ceremony — another grave offense after allowing her reverence lights to be extinguished last night.
It might well be the last time he'd be welcome at the daily ceremony. Perhaps the last time he'd be welcome here at all. He'd been suspected of murder, and he had called Amaterasu's pure light into the soiled chaos of Kali to save the one man his clan considered better left dead.
~:~:~:~:~
Sumeragi Family Residence — West Wing
The unmarked door led to a corridor with plain, white-washed walls and a grey-streaked linoleum floor. Post-war decor, Seishiro decided. Probably with a slight do-over in the fifties, but not much afterwards. Doors went off the corridor left and right. Fuda with generic protection spells hung on each one, moving in the draft from the open house door. He stepped inside quickly and closed it behind him. A large spider plant in a wooden pot stood under a window at the other end. The leather soles of his shoes made no sound as he slowly proceeded deeper into the house, following the faint personal signature he'd isolated from the shopping receipt Subaru had given back to him yesterday.
Who besides the Mori would call a gecko shiki into the Sumeragi household? The tiny lizard had whizzed across the ceiling right above him, entirely too aware and close to be ignored. The dissolution spell to get rid off it had cost him dearly — and not because that stupid footman, blind to the real threat, overreacted and drew on him. Spells were powered by talent, will, and ch'i. And Seishiro had precious little ch'i to spend at the moment.
The trail ended in front of the fourth door to the right. The brass doorknob sizzled briefly when he drew the opening pentagram around it, releasing the last hint of an old warding spell. Seishiro silently opened the door a crack, careful not to move his hand cross the threshold. Another warding spell vibrated inside; a lot more potent than the frayed one attached to the handle. Though he felt no repercussions built into it, Seishiro was pretty sure it would light up like Shinjuku at night should anybody not invited set his foot onto the tatami covering the floor inside. Interesting, given that it sung with the same signature as the shiki. The room itself was empty. A single window towards the yard and the main house beyond illuminated the sparsely furnished room: a futon, a table with two chairs, and the obligatory home shrine attached to the wall. He recognized a plate for Amaterasu between two small memorial plaques for deceased relatives. Pristine white China dishes held the ritual offerings of rice and sake—
"May I help you?" a calm voice said behind him. Seishiro turned. A man of average size studied him with disapproving grey eyes behind slightly rectangular, half-rimmed prescription glasses. The tumbler with a toothbrush in his hand and the damp towel over his arm were a clear indication where he'd come from. "Shiro Ameru, resident of this room."
"Sakurazuka." He opened his hand and revealed the shopping receipt that had been a gecko shiki the night before. "I've come to return your pet."
"You better come in." Shiro went past him and opened the door fully, withdrawing the powerful ward without any obvious sign. He gestured Seishiro to follow him, indicating one of the chairs at the table under the window. "Please excuse the lack of hospitality. I didn't get tea from the kitchen yet." He put the toiletries aside and took the second chair.
Seishiro judged him to be in his fifties. The nondescript business slacks and white shirt weren't expensive, but probably a little too light for the place and the season. Not one of Michiko's people. He put the former makeshift fuda on the table between them. "How much do you know?"
"I know you're Sakurazukamori. I know you brought incredible harm to this clan and its people." The grey eyes watched him calmly. "I also know that you're one of the sources of the revitalized Dao — together with Subaru." Subaru. Not 'Sumeragi' or 'head'. Interesting. "And that you are being reasonable about it."
Seishiro arched a brow. "I didn't think they'd publicize that last bit."
"They didn't." Shiro laid his hand pointedly onto the piece of paper between them.
"I see." Seishiro smiled, showing teeth. "In that case I have a question."
~:~:~:~:~
Sumeragi Family Residence
The sun had risen over the horizon, bathing the faces of the worshipers in its light. The final bell rang out. The last clap of hands followed and the neat rows dissolved when people headed for their morning meal and the other tasks their schedule held on this Sunday.
Subaru watched the white-clad figures leave while he stood, the early sun now warm on his back. The sky overhead was of a clear, translucent blue, the faint rose coloring of Amaterasu's arrival fading quickly and leaving him on his own.
After changing out of his ceremonial robes, he would break his own fast with his grandmother, completing their interrupted exchange from the previous evening. Subaru drew a deep breath of crisp morning air, squared his shoulders and headed back to the house to change into a yukata. He was not looking forward to this.
The morning meal of white rice, pickled vegetables, miso soup and tea had been laid out already by the time he arrived in his grandmother's rooms. A high, almost Western style table with a single wooden chair for him accommodated her wheelchair. Additional protective charms had been worked into the arrangement of the food. A wind chime played beyond the closed shoji on the engawa. Even Maki, his grandmother's personal maid for as long as he remembered, bowed and left them alone after escorting him in, closing the fusuma behind him. He wouldn't be surprised to find her outside guarding the wall against eavesdroppers.
"I regret the unseemly haste, Subaru-san." His grandmother indicated the set table. "But certainly you see the problems in the current situation." Subaru nodded and pulled out the uncushioned chair to sit down. He didn't pick up his chopsticks. He wasn't going to eat. "What happened for the police to inquire about you?"
Subaru drew a deep breath. "Three nights ago, I needed Amaterasu's purifying flames within a sealed pentagram. Had I not invoked them, we would know by now if the Dao still requires both of its sources alive."
His grandmother, reaching for the rice, froze. "What did you do, grandson?" she asked, her voice toneless. Her dish remained empty.
"There is only one goddess who carries the sun in the darkness," he said softly. "Ka—"
Her gnarled hand closed over his mouth. "Don't say the name of the black one in my room! You—" She stopped herself, startled, staring at him horrified. "You called Her." It wasn't a question.
"I called Amaterasu," Subaru corrected, "through Her."
His grandmother inhaled sharply, composing herself. "What happened?"
"She — Amaterasu — answered." He avoided her eyes, looked down on his hands. "Both answered."
Silence. When he opened his mouth to explain, his grandmother inquired with a tremor in her voice, "What did She make you do?"
"Prosecute the one responsible for harming the Dao." He'd expected that question. His answer was one way to put it. Murder — at least, assistance to murder, if he believed Seishiro's claim of the Tree's responsibility — was another.
"The Dao or the Sakurazukamori?"
"Both. As you well know." At her sharp glance, he added, "She is the goddess of death and truth."
"We will not speak of it." His grandmother's voice was composed, almost brittle, declaring the uncomfortable fact as insignificant. "Are the police aware of your subsequent acts?"
He shook his head. "No." They'd questioned him because of Seishiro, not because of... "I purified myself afterwards."
"Subaru-san," she said sternly. "Purification appeases the gods, but rest assured, it doesn't appease the people. We aren't common folk. We are Sumeragi. Diviners. Purity and impeccable reputation are what ensures our social standing. Without these virtues and the ties to Amaterasu-no-mikoto, we'd face ostracism as hisabetsumin. It is foolish to believe that modern times changed that. You have to look no farther than your ill-begotten housemate for proof! The Black Goddess—"
Subaru had heard enough. "I'm not here to discuss Kali," he cut her off, ignoring her gasp at the name. "Or the Sakurazukamori. What concerns me are the Sumeragi. The Dao enforced symmetry — not only in its sources but also in the spiritual balance itself. Cases are no longer clear-cut his or mine. We have to cooperate or—"
"Cooperate?" his grandmother interrupted him, white-faced. "Are you telling me you collaborated with the Sakurazukamori? Did you participate in his bloodwork?"
"Of course not!" He ground his teeth. He'd done his own.
"Yet you call Shiva's wife by name in this house and the police inquired about your virtue." She shook her head. "You can't possibly address the elders in your current state."
"I can and I will!" Subaru stood briskly. "The meeting this evening is not negotiable! Have the clan present as well. I've got an announcement to make and I prefer to make it only once."
"As you wish." She studied him sadly. "But last night's events did not go unnoticed, Subaru-san. It might well be that the council has to make an announcement of its own regarding you."
~:~:~:~:~
Sumeragi Family Residence — West Wing
Keeping to the shadows, Seishiro trailed the woman in white out on to the engawa and followed her around the house. Shiro's information had been... unexpected, to say the least. So his Subaru-kun had a fiancée — a detail he hadn't bothered to mention in their conversations over the last four months — and things hadn't gone as smoothly as his clan had expected of him. To the contrary; even after eight years, the bride still wore white as tradition demanded until she became wife. Shiro had tried to gloss over details, but filling in the blanks of what was left unsaid had been easy enough. It certainly explained a lot. It also gave him a target, though it didn't seem prudent to go after her now. However...
Seishiro pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose and began to weave his illusion. Akiko, former Mikage not yet Sumeragi, corresponded perfectly to the traditional ideal: demure posture, small dainty steps. The gauze veil she'd pinned to her hair to draw attention to her scarred face barely fluttered as she walked. She hid her strength well. Very well. His left hand itched as the illusion closed around her. A flutter of sakura petals stopped her, had her turn and search in wonder for the source of it. There were no sakura trees on the Sumeragi compound and the ume trees near the house were already out of bloom.
"I'd like to have a word with you, Akiko-san," he said behind her. "It's about time you stop living off Subaru-kun's guilt."
"I'm not 'living off anyone's guilt'!" she protested, turning. "Who are y—?"
"Not?" He let his eyes travel down her white costume. "I recognize a Hanae Mori design when I see one. There's nothing on your face that a good surgeon couldn't correct, but it's so much easier to stay scarred and pining, isn't it?"
"Easier?!" she gasped, indignant. "I'm dead to my family, crossed-out in our registry, but I'm not reborn to the Sumeragi. I'm in between, forever without color, without status, without name!"
"And conveniently without responsibility," Seishiro completed coldly. "You are aware that there's more than one way to correct your 'status of in between', aren't you?" he asked with a casual shrug. "I might help you with that."
"How—" Her dark eyes widened at the sigil scars on his hands he hadn't bothered to conceal. "Sakurazukamori." She glanced around at scholars and servants walking past without seeing them. "I'll scream."
"And you think you'd be heard?" he asked pleasantly. "I don't make beginners' mistakes, A-chan." He took a business card from his wallet. "The address of a plastic surgeon in Tokyo. Get yourself treated. You have fourteen days. Otherwise I'll opt for a more terminal solution." He nodded politely at her. "If you excuse me—"
She glared at him. "You won't hurt me," she declared. "Subaru-san would never forgive you."
"Not?" Seishiro was genuinely amused now, despite the dull ache that had begun throbbing behind his eyes. "I killed his sister and he sleeps in my bed." He deliberately gave her his back, unraveling the illusion around her as he returned to the house, chuckling. "I'll take the chance."
~:~:~:~:~
Sumeragi Family Residence
The house was filled with whispers, reverberating in Subaru's head when he left his grandmother to a morning meal that had become cold over their dispute. ...an announcement... ...with him in front of the kamidana... He closed the fusuma separating his room from the rest of the house with an audible thud.
Seishiro looked up from his book. "The elders will meet at nightfall," Subaru told him candidly.
"Good. Then there's still time to rest." Seishiro put the book aside and shrugged out of his jacket, hanging it around the back of the chair. The bright red silk lining glowed like fresh blood where the sunlight touched it. The shoji were opened a hand's width, but the room still smelled of incense. New reverence lights burned in front of the kamidana. In his absence, paper cranes had been offered to Amaterasu as apology for the lack of lights in the dark.
Last night's events. Subaru balled his fist.
Beside him, Seishiro loosened his tie, then tugged it free. A whiff of sakura wafted around him. Subaru frowned. "Where have you been?"
"Outside. Admiring your gardens." He laid the tie over his jacket, heading for the closet holding the futons. "Exceptional nadeshiko."
Subaru stopped him. "Don't give me this nonsense. I smell the sakura on you! What did you do?"
Seishiro looked back to him. "I had a word with your fiancée. It's tiresome to be woken in the middle of the night—"
Subaru stiffened.
"She's alive." Seishiro snorted, opening the closet. "For now."
"Leave her alone." Subaru caught his arm. "Akiko isn't the guilty party in this."
"Indeed." Seishiro narrowed his eyes at the grip— the name— and pushed him back. "And neither are you."
"Not?" Subaru laughed out bitterly. "Believe me, I am guilty! Guilty of lying with the enemy. Guilty of not getting a wife, of not begetting an heir! But you wouldn't know the first thing about that, would you? You—"
Seishiro's flat hand slammed against the closet beside his head. "No, I just have to get myself killed, right? Preferably ten years ago by somebody the Mori approv—!"
Killed. The scent of sakura. Light eyes—
Subaru kissed him. Deep. Open-mouthed. Drinking his breath. Angry. Aggressive. Seishiro's body along his. Heartbeats. Fast. Sweat. Heat. So much heat...
Not killed. Alive—
Subaru shivered. This felt so terribly right. He raised his head, looked at Seishiro, truly looked, not avoiding the eyes, not hiding. Breathing was difficult. His heart raced as if he'd been running...
...he was no longer running. "Take me," he demanded, untying his obi. "Now. Before the council."
Seishiro froze, actually took a step back. "Are you nuts?"
"Not anymore." Subaru's tongue flicked over his dry lips. "I'm done hiding what I want."
"And you want to pay me off that urgently?" A caustic tone. Unsteady eyes.
Subaru wouldn't have it. "Not payment. You." He closed the distance, consciously breathing him in, open-eyed replacing incense with sakura. "I want you." Those glasses had to go. He picked them off Seishiro's nose, tossing them onto the folded futon. "Now."
Unsteadiness gone. Seishiro reached for their toiletry bag.
Subaru caught his wrist. "No. I want it to hurt."
A sharp jerk. "You maybe, I certainly not!" Seishiro emptied the bag onto the shelf, found the flask. Uncapped it, one-handed, with a flick of his thumb, while opening his fly. Business, not heat, not yet—
"I need—" Subaru dug his hands into Seishiro's hair, tugged, felt— Seishiro's hand between his legs, spreading him roughly, wetting him— followed by— he cried out at the first unmitigated thrust, clung desperately to Seishiro for support, for—
People came running, stopped when he groaned at Seishiro's deep moves. Let them know, he thought fiercely. Let them all know.
Amaterasu's reverence lights flickered in the draft from the shoji. He drove his teeth through the cloth into Seishiro's shoulder, tasted blood, and cried out again when his semen stained the yukata that had ridden up his hips.
18:31
Subaru heard the whispering, the hissed comments to his side and behind his back as he crossed the big hall; head held high, back straight. There was no pretense left. He was done hiding his flaws. He didn't have to listen. He knew what they were talking about; had known before he'd even left his room; had made sure that he'd know.
He'd given his body to the enemy.
He'd made himself unfit to be their ruler. In their eyes.
He still had the taste of Seishiro's blood on his tongue, grounding him.
He ignored the cushion laid out in front of the dais before the elders. Subaru-san's cushion.
The place of the head of the house was in the center. On the dais. With the elders around and behind him, while the seats to his immediate left and right were reserved to be given specifically to people he favored.
They wouldn't like his choice, but they didn't have to like it.
The hall fell silent when he climbed the dais and waited for flustered servants to rearrange the sitting cushions accordingly. He took his time settling down, neatly arranging kimono folds and hakama. He had summoned them. Tradition forbade them to take the word until he had spoken, even if he was beyond contempt in their eyes, even if he was to be ousted. For this one speech, he still held absolute power. This once, he was going to use it.
Subaru drew a deep breath and clapped his hands. Once.
"For thirteen-hundred years, we Sumeragi have protected Japan according to our oath, given to Shotoku-taishi on his deathbed. Yet all this time, we utterly failed in our task."
Shocked gasps rang out. He'd expected it.
"Because we neglected our duty to one of Japan's servants. We handle the spiritual forces that have no place among living beings. We ignored the fact that many of these spirits don't linger of their own free will, but were called forth and used by living people." He surveyed the hall to make sure he had their full attention before he continued. "The revitalized Dao requires both sides of a case to be addressed properly: spirit and human perpetrator. I am well aware that we are ill-equipped to handle the second. However, the Sakurazukamori—"
"Subaru-san—" his grandmother began.
"—protects Japan against those who willfully violate the world of spirit, just as we protect it against spirits who willfully enter the world of the living. As one of its servants, he deserves the same spiritual protection as the country he serves, as stated in the Jushichijo Kenpo , written and proclaimed by Shotoku-taishi himself. We may abhor the Sakurazukamori's work, but under the revitalized Dao — of which he and I myself are the sources — we can no longer afford to ignore our duty out of unfounded enmity—"
"Unfounded enmity!?" Behind him, elder Tomoaki jumped to his feet. "He killed your sister!"
"I am aware of that, but that does not change our duty, nor our failure in it." Subaru turned back to the general audience. "Therefore, we will reconstitute the Onmyo-ryo. Not as part of the ministry of Home Affairs, but as coordination office between the Sakurazukamori and us. Preparations for this are being carried out as we speak. I will see the minister of Home Affairs in person first thing tomorrow.
"In order for smooth cooperation with the Sakurazuka—"
"We cannot possibly cooperate with an enemy of the house! The feud—"
"It is the head of a house who declares a feud," Subaru cut in. "It is also within his jurisdiction to end it. It is ended! We can no longer afford the arrogance of embracing the Dao and rejecting one of its sources at the same time." He briefly queried his marks, making sure Seishiro was waiting outside.
"Good cooperation is essential for our success under the revitalized Dao. However, I know this isn't going to be easy, especially in the beginning. Therefore, I will offer the position at my right to the Sakurazukamori, while I will take a seat in consulting capacity on the advisory board of the Sakurazuka."
"You involve us in bloodshed!" Elder Makoto slapped her hand flat on the ground before her.
"No. We will not be involved in the execution of his work any more than he will be present at our exorcisms." Subaru nodded at her. Makoto was one of the most level-headed voices on the council. If she accepted his reasoning...
He drew a deep breath. "However, for the first time, we will be able to determine properly whether an execution is necessary or if an exorcism and spiritual healing of the offender will suffice. Moreover, we will be able to attempt an exorcism even in those cases which until now went straight to the Sakurazuka because of the danger involved. In addition to this, we will gain protection for our people in their work against intransigent offenders." He nodded at Hamamatsu, guarding the door. "Please request that the first adviser join us, Hamamatsu-kun. This concerns him as well from now on."
"You should not practice politics with what's between your legs," Tomoaki snapped.
"Because it's not yours, Tomoaki-san?" Subaru asked calmly. He nodded a quiet welcome to Seishiro, who entered the hall following a seething Hamamatsu. The hall was deadly silent as he proceeded towards the dais in his grey replacement suit. People didn't actually shrink from him, but somehow the aisle appeared wider. Leave it to Seishiro to make a pale pink shirt look threatening. Subaru studied the hall full of shocked faces while Seishiro settled down at his side.
"I am aware that all this comes as a surprise to you all," he continued. "But in fact it is only the official declaration of our practice these last four months. We—"
"Enough!" His grandmother clapped her hands. "We heard enough of this farce. We won't have it." The other elders around her nodded with grave expressions. "Sumeragi Subaru, it pains me, but from now on you are no longer the thirteenth head of the Sumeragi. Your unhealthy infatuation with the Sakurazukamori renders you unfit to represent our interests—"
"I advise you strongly to reconsider that," Seishiro interrupted her coldly. "I will not accept a second addition to my advisory board. So if you want to have a say in the upcoming events at all, you will have to go along with Subaru-kun; otherwise you are out of business."
~:~:~:~:~
20:37
Seishiro sat on the edge of the engawa, his back to the house. Their taxi would arrive soon. They would make it in time for the last Shinkansen back to Tokyo and a brief rest without fires and incense. Subaru had insisted on leaving tonight. Tomorrow would be as taxing as today had been, though the Ministry of Home Affairs shouldn't pose a problem.
Seishiro chuckled humorlessly. The current minister of Home Affairs was Hori Kosuke; coincidentally also the current chairman of the National Public Safety Commission. Given the number of borderline cases, he'd put money on it that 'Ko-kun' would be glad to hand the responsibility for assigning cases to people who actually knew what they were doing.
However, given that they were essentially restructuring Japan's spiritual protection, there was another authority to consult, one whom he'd successfully avoided so far. If anybody could get the Sumeragi to actively support their plans, it was him. Seishiro sighed and dragged at his cigarette again. His eyes followed the thin thread of smoke, curling up from the bright glow of its tip into the dark sky. That help wouldn't come cheap.
He looked up when rubber wheels neared on the engawa. Subaru's grandmother stopped at the sight of him, watched him. "Are you satisfied?" she asked finally.
He snorted. "Hardly."
"Then why did you do that to him?"
"It is easier to do what must be done if you know you can't sink lower in the regard of those you hold dear."
"Is that your reasoning behind that atrocity?" the old woman inquired icily.
"No." Seishiro sucked at the rest of his cigarette, then snipped its stump into the stone garden and stood. "It's why I didn't stop him."
to be continued in
Family Matters - Interregnum 6
Notes:
Shikimi is the Japanese star anise (Illicium anisatum). It is highly toxic, but still burned as incense in Japan. It is said to connect with the ether (or central void, depending on view), whereas patchouli as an incense ingredient relates to the element air.
Jushichijo Kenpo, the seven articles constitution of Japan, established 603 by Prince Shotoku and embraced by Empress Suiko, remained undisputedly in effect until 1890, when the constitution of the Empire of Japan replaced it.