The Tree was acutely aware of them, sensing Sei-chan through the bond with its Sakurazukamori and Su-chan through the residues of Kali and the blood on the summoned blade embedded in its trunk. Against the turmoil of the still raging spirit, it felt the tranquility of Su-chan, reaching for its Sakurazukamori, cupping his cheek like the sacrifice nine years ago had done with a hand devoid of the blood's warmth his held now. Yin and Yang, forming the Dao, with power perpetually flowing among them. The symbol had turned, who had been giving was now receiving, who had been weak was now strong...
The Sakura quivered, drowned the screams of Yue's opponent in blood-filled resin, and marveled at the perfect symmetry of the sources of the Dao, holding on to each other in the bright shadow underneath its crown.
Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo
Kokyo East Gardens — Saineikan
April 19, 2000 — 03:42
"I am his physical reincarnation," Subaru said tiredly, not for the first time tonight. "Had Sado's spirit been allowed to move on when he died, he would have been reborn into this body."
"But now he won't be reborn at all," Makoto stated with obvious revulsion in her voice. "Susumu's wakizashi recognized him through your blood and bound his gift, for—" she averted her eyes.
"—the Sakura to tear him apart," Subaru finished for her. He laid his good hand around the white coffee mug with Imperial Guard logo, both to absorb the warmth and to keep it from shaking.
Elder Makoto, Ameru-san, and he were sitting at a table in the staffroom near the Saineikan. It was a quarter to four in the morning. The coffee in his mug, bitter as it was, was courtesy of chief superintendent Shiibatani, who'd fetched them from the park after Subaru had given him a call. Seishiro had been almost unconscious on the short drive; now he was sound asleep in the small sickroom two doors down.
Subaru knew he'd have to rest soon, too. He felt cold and he couldn't hide his shivering any more. Controlling his marks to avoid hurting Seishiro was becoming more and more difficult.
But Makoto was relentless. "Are you sure that you didn't end your ancestor's spiritual existence because you selfishly cling to your own?"
Subaru sighed and gathered himself up. "Makoto-san," he said more firmly than he thought he still could, "I am exceedingly tired. I am about to fall asleep on this table. Sado killed emperor Sushun in his lifetime and he was involved in more than one imperial death since he became a spirit. Our whole clan could have been executed for his first crime and the later ones are a permanent stain on our professional reputation. I tried to move him on, but I couldn't allow him to claim another life, imperial or not." He pushed his chair back. As far as he was concerned, this talk was over. This—
The room was spinning. He reached for the edge of the table. His hand slid off—
~:~:~:~:~
Ameru nearly stumbled under his son's weight. He slung an arm around Subaru's back to stabilize him, finding him too warm to the touch. "Allow me to help," he said quietly when Subaru tried to stand on his own.
"Subaru-san, we aren't done yet," Makoto said sternly behind him. "We're all tired, but—"
Ameru had enough. "He's worn out," he said angrily, ignoring their difference in rank. "He's got to rest before you can continue your questioning."
Subaru stirred in his hold. "Please don't bother, I—"
"It's all right," Ameru soothed him. Turning his back on Makoto, he slowly walked them toward the door. "There's a room prepared for you. It's just a few meters down the hallway. Do you think you can manage with my help?"
"No... The marks..." Subaru said. "I lose my shields... hurts..." The door closed between them and Makoto. "Seishiro... get me to Seishiro."
"Maybe he should hurt," Ameru muttered, "for leaving all the work to you. He should have been in the circle from the beginning, not—"
"Didn't want him... inside... he... nearly died last week. ... little ch'i left."
Nearly died last week? Ameru blinked. The Sakurazukamori had come to his archenemy's stronghold with reduced ch'i?
They stopped in front of the sick room.
"Please, I—" Subaru reached for the door.
Ameru opened it. He glanced at the dark shadow barely visible in the room lit solely by the "emergency exit" sign above the door. He shouldn't be doing this. He was bringing his son to a murderer who had hurt him before, who—
But still he helped Subaru sit down on the bed. Some of the strain seeped out of his son's face and shoulders even before he lay down. The Sakurazukamori hadn't been the only one hurting, Ameru realized as he tucked him in. One of the ubiquitous plastic chairs stood beside the door. A coat was thrown over it. Ameru folded it and laid it aside before sitting down for his vigil.
Hokuto's murderer. His nails dug into his palms. Hokuto's decision.
~:~:~:~:~
Seishiro woke suddenly, going from deep sleep to alertness within a breath at the faint scraping of the door over the floor. Entirely silent marks told him that the warmth curled against his side was Subaru. Who—?
The creak of a chair. Voices carefully kept low—
"Subaru-san still has to answer the questions." Elder Makoto, Seishiro's throbbing head provided reluctantly. "It's in his own interest."
"He's still asleep." Shiro? What was he doing here? "Please allow him to sleep some more. He needs the rest." They certainly weren't talking about him.
"The council won't wait that long."
Footsteps neared the bed and Seishiro cursed his glasses now lying out of reach on the side-stand.
"Subaru-san?"
Subaru beside him stirred, mumbling something against his chest. The whiff of a sleeping spell, applied to keep Subaru sound-asleep despite the disturbances, decreased Seishiro's mood by the same amount by which it increased his headache. He clasped his hand firmly around the elder's frail wrist when she was about to prod his prey. "You will talk with me," he hissed, "or you won't talk at all."
"Sakurazuka-san," Shiro called. "Please—"
"I must protest." Makoto tried to free her hand.
Shiro pulled something white from his pocket.
A fuda? Seishiro narrowed his eyes, trying to discern the spell on it, while tightening his grip. He felt the old bones grinding together. "I'm sorry for being imprecise," he said sweetly. "You won't talk ever again if you continue this. Am I making myself clear?"
The old woman gasped, exasperated, retreating immediately when he released her. "Your behavior is beyond contempt."
"Is it?" Seishiro returned acidly. "What about yours?"
"We apologize." Shiro, still near the door, bowed. The white object was gone from his hand. "Subaru-sama—"
"Will sleep. And you," he fixated Makoto, "will leave. I'll answer your questions later."
Shiro was waiting outside when Seishiro stepped into the corridor ten minutes later, his mood somewhat improved by a change of underwear and a double dose of acetaminophen.
"Please understand that elder Makoto is worried on Subaru-sama's behalf," Shiro said quietly. "Sunday's... events put the house in chaos. She used considerable influence to be sent here as observer. She fears that if she takes too long to complete her report, other members of the council with a less favorable view of Subaru-sama's plans might consider her words biased in his favor."
"Ever heard of report forms?" Seishiro retorted, heading down the hallway to the actual dojo. "Give me fifteen minutes. And no geckos."
"Would butterflies be more convenient?" Shiro inquired, unperturbed. "I'll make sure elder Makoto waits in the staffroom."
Seishiro closed the door to the dressing area. The faint drumming of feet and an occasional call told him that the dojo was in use. One of the benches at the far wall held several neat stacks of grey uniforms. A clock on the wall above them told him the time: half past eight. He'd better hurry; Michiko would inquire soon and he'd prefer not having her have a run-in with Subaru's relatives on imperial ground. He put his fresh clothes on the first empty bench near him and undressed.
Towels were provided next to the wet area. He took the first open shower stall. Warm water rained down the moment the sensors registered the stall as occupied. For a brief moment, he just stood, having the water massage his shoulders before he squeezed some shower gel into his hand and erased the obnoxious smell of sweat and earth from his skin.
He was in the middle of soaping his face when the door opened, making him hastily grab the towel to wipe the soap from his eyes.
"Really, Seishiro," Michiko said, amused. "Most men would cover something other than their face."
"What for?" He continued with dabbing his arms and sides and inwardly cursed the absence of his glasses. "There's nothing you haven't seen yet."
"Nothing I haven't seen?" She arched a mocking brow. "You're mistaking me for my sister, mister! Though I'm sure Mariko will be thrilled to hear that all your important parts are still in place."
He tossed the towel over his shoulder and pushed past her, heading for the bank where he'd left his clothes.
"Nice ass," she commented.
"Michiko," he growled, slipping into his pants. "You might want to recall what I do for a living."
"Yes," she smiled sweetly. "But registering a nice ass doesn't qualify as spiritual danger and I just saved that nice ass by declaring the choice of Honshu-san to be the Sakura's decision. Besides, my current successor for Shikoku is Miyagi and I doubt you'd want that hardliner from Kyushu almost two flight hours closer to home."
Kyushu was indeed a matter to be dealt with in the foreseeable future. Seishiro gave her that. He shook out his shirt and put it on, buttoning fast. "Since you're here to assess my physique instead of waiting for my call, I assume they accepted your argument."
She snorted at that. "I'd expect you to answer your calls, before I start waiting for yours. Time's running out, I expect you and the new Honshu-san in the office this afternoon." She eyed him from head to toes, arching a perfectly plucked brow at him. "Presentable, if possible."
"Twenty hundred," he corrected and threw the used towel at her. "After dark. In case we require discreet disposals." He collected his used clothes and headed for the door. "Have the section leaders present."
~:~:~:~:~
Subaru woke slowly. Seishiro's scent still clung to the blanket around him and for a few breaths he just lay there, resting his forehead against the cotton. When he finally forced himself to sit up, he winced at the tearing pain in his left palm. He'd forgotten that he'd closed his hand around a blade. The wound was covered with a thick gauze pad and an elastic bandage. It throbbed angrily now, as did his—
He ran tentative fingertips across his cheek, finding the cut there closed with two butterfly stitches. He'd been too worn yesterday... this morning... before... to notice the injuries.
And there'd been the blood used for the runes as well. Subaru sighed, knowing how that had to look from elder Makoto's point of view. Still, it had been the easiest way to lure Sado in and still deny him the additional burst in power.
Seishiro had used a sterilized blade, cutting with the precision of a surgeon. The wound had been treated. Yet, it still throbbed in the rhythm of Subaru's pulse.
His pulse. Not Sado's.
"Are you sure that you didn't end your ancestor's spiritual existence because you selfishly cling to your own?" Makoto's stern voice asked in his memory. A question he'd left unanswered last night, because...
Would he have done the same if Seishiro's life hadn't been at stake?
Would he have done anything different if he didn't feel... that much for him?
"I will toss the head of Amaterasu's heir..."
Yes, he would have. Differently perhaps, but he would have. He would have seen his ancestor scattered rather than moved on after he'd threatened the emperor. Still, he would have preferred to do that without involving the Sakura.
Subaru sighed and got up. A glance in the mirror above the small washstand showed him that there was still a smear on the side of his throat where the blood from his cheek had soaked into the nagajuban, coloring it as red as Seishiro's. Elder Makoto had insisted on having it, and the equally stained shikifuku, burned before they even sat down to discuss the exorcism. Subaru wondered what she'd have done had she got her hands on Seishiro's all-crimson one.
A determined knock on the door interrupted him. "Sumeragi-san? This is Kisaraki."
"Yes?" Subaru ran a hand through his still disheveled hair and opened the door. "What is it?"
"Good morning." The guard officer stopped at the sight of his bandages, then caught himself with a crisp bow. "There's a woman waiting for you at the administration's reception. And chief superintendent Shiibatani asks for spiritual clearance to reopen the park for the public."
"Of course," Subaru reached for his coat and checked that the bundle of emergency ofuda was still in its sleeve. "I'll take care of it immediately."
~:~:~:~:~
"Our magic is like a credit card system," Seishiro explained. "You do the spell, get the effect, and are billed by sakanagi." He shrugged. "Runes, on the other hand, only accept cash."
"So you have to provide blood beforehand?" Makoto asked, her voice carefully neutral. Shiro hadn't said much since they'd entered the room. The old woman did the grilling alone.
"Blood. Courage. Endurance," Seishiro confirmed. "Runes aren't for the squeamish, but they're convenient when it comes to imprisoning a powerful spirit: power or not, a spirit has no body to bargain with."
"So by using Subaru's blood for the spell, you made sure that Sado couldn't use the blood against you?"
"Against Subaru," Seishiro corrected. In reality, he simply hadn't been in a condition to give enough to release the spirit and stay lucid, but he wasn't going to admit that. "You probably want to add to your report that in the Norse system blood is an agent of life and ritual cleansing."
She looked up. "Isn't that true for your brand of onmyojutsu as well?"
"You might be surprised, but we clean with water and fire, sake and prayer," Seishiro replied dryly. "And soap and disinfectant, if it's the kitchen."
Makoto shook her head at the last comment. "You are a difficult man, Sakurazukamori," she stated, "but Subaru-san's right, our clans should have talked centuries ago."
"Indeed," Seishiro agreed. "For example about the wakizashi he had brought from Kyoto."
The old woman winced at that. Interesting. Also interesting that the spirit of Subaru's ancestor had writhed on the blade as if it had been in the flesh.
"Would you care to elaborate on it now?" Seishiro inquired with a mask of polite, entirely scholarly interest.
"Susumu was the only clan head who ever committed seppuku," Makoto said in a low voice. "He cast a spell on his blade to make it consume his gift along with his life when he opened his belly, in order to make his repentance for alienating Tokugawa Ieyasu complete." The old woman fell silent for a moment. Her gnarled hands lay still in her lap. "It worked," was all she finally said.
That wasn't all. "And?" Seishiro prompted.
An uneasy silence followed his question. In the end it was Shiro who answered him. "Susumu's blade is still hungry."
~:~:~:~:~
Kokyo East Gardens — administration area
Subaru hurried downstairs after he'd given the clearance to chief superintendent Shiibatani in person. The reception was deserted, but a woman in a slim tailored skirt suit was waiting outside on the stairs. She turned when he pushed through the door. A small, delicate hat with a thin swathe of gauze obscured her features surprisingly well. "Sumeragi-san?"
"Yes." He bowed in greeting. "I'm sorry I took so long."
"I'm afraid it is I who has to apologize for calling on you like this." She inclined her head briefly. "My name's Fujiwara Mariko." Indicating the general direction of the park, she asked, "May we have a brief walk? The gardens are said to be beautiful this time of the year."
They headed down one of the sandy paths connecting the administration area with the inner garden. Birds twittered overhead. The trees and bushes around them were covered in the fresh green of spring. "May I inquire about the reason for your interest in me?" Subaru asked after the greenery had closed around them.
"Of course." Her shoes made small crunching sounds on the gravel of the path. "I want to know with whom the father of my children sleeps."
Subaru missed a step, staring at her in disbelief. "Children...?"
"Yes, we've got three. A girl and two boys. I assume Seishiro didn't bother to mention them." Wind rustled in the pines and cloud-like shadows moved across the water of the pond below.
Subaru shook his head. "You must be mistaken. Seishiro—"
She continued slowly down the stone steps. "Tell me, does he still object to being held during sex?"
Subaru stopped dead-still. The tall trees and fresh greens, almost glowing in the light from the early morning sun, seemed to spin about him.
Children... Seishiro had... This woman was...
"Are you coming?" she called from the stone bridge spanning the pond below. "I'd prefer not to shout."
He caught up with her. "I'm sorry. I—" He stopped. He didn't know what to say, what to feel. He couldn't fathom the hurt Seishiro had done her. He had done her. It hadn't even occurred to him that Seishiro... Seishiro could be...
"Sumeragi-san." She stopped at the low stone encasement and looked out over the dark green water, already dotted with lotus leaves. "There's something you have to understand. Seishiro and I—" She laughed. It made him cringe inwardly. "I'm well aware that I wasn't his choice. Yet he never made it unpleasant and he could have done so. Easily."
The angry scream of a raptor reverberated off the cliff behind them. A dark shadow whizzed across the stones of the bridge. A large white falcon was circling overhead. A shiki? Subaru shaded his eyes and—
Fujiwara-san took his unbandaged hand; her fingertips briefly touched the pale scar on its back.
Releasing him, she brushed the veil away from her face, revealing clear grey eyes in a narrow, energetic face. "Our daughter turned sixteen this spring," she said unexpectedly. "And the boys are eight. I've never had to worry about their provisions or mine, and our house in Osaka is fully paid. I won't give that up."
Her fierce statement shook Subaru. "I don't want—" he began, but she raised her hand, silencing him.
"Don't misunderstand me. If, in all those years, he'd looked at me just once like he looks at you, I would fight." Her expression softened. "But as things are, I will be content. With three wonderful children and the knowledge that he, too, has found a measure of happiness, even if it's not with me." She inclined her head briefly, dismissing him. "Have a good day."
Subaru watched her leave, a slender frame in ash grey and bleached rose. Seishiro's... wife. She didn't look as if she could have a sixteen-year-old daughter. Seishiro couldn't have been more than a boy himself when—
~:~:~:~:~
Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo
parking lot in front of the Palace hotel
opposite the Otemon gate
09:23
Michiko was waiting for her as promised. Leaning against the open driver's door of her red sports car, legs casually crossed at the ankles, her younger sister drew frequent glances from the passers-by, and from the hotel porter. Not that she seemed to mind.
She pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. "He isn't what you expected him to be, is he?" she asked calmly when Mariko reached her.
"No," Mariko sighed. Her younger sister had always been too perceptive. The shadow of a falcon flitted over the asphalt of the parking lot. She would have to have a word with Seiran when she got home. Still... "I expected him to be less refined, you know, a sexual being." She made a helpless gesture with her purse. "Someone, who'd—" She shook her head. "It's hard to describe."
Michiko nodded, pushing herself off her car. "Did you see his hands?" she asked, opening the passenger door for her.
"He's marked." Mariko looked back towards the East Gardens before getting into the car. She put her purse onto the dashboard and tugged at the seatbelt. "Has been for a long time, from the look of those scars."
Michiko got behind the wheel. "He always wore gloves — spell-protected gloves — when I was in Kyoto."
Mariko looked up from fastening her safety belt and frowned. "That was when? Ten— fifteen years ago?"
"Twelve," Michiko confirmed, closing the driver's door with verve.
"He probably didn't have much of a say in the matter," Mariko said thoughtfully.
"Probably not," Michiko agreed.
"Is he really as strong as Seishiro?"
"He was Seishiro's counterpart in the now-not-so-Final Year." Michiko shrugged. "And lived."
"Which might have other reasons than his magical abilities," Mariko returned dryly, but she didn't believe it herself. Things would be a lot easier if she could hate Sumeragi. She couldn't.
Michiko started the car.
~:~:~:~:~
Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo
Kokyo East Gardens — Saineikan
09:27
The door to the staff room rattled in its hinges when Subaru opened it with the full force of his anger. Seishiro sat with elder Makoto and Ameru-san at the same table at which Makoto had questioned him last night.
"You ought to query your marks more subtly." Seishiro didn't so much as turn. "Your approach was a little hard to miss."
Subaru ignored him. "Ameru-san, elder Makoto. Please leave us alone."
Makoto huffed. "Subaru-san, self-control is a virtue for—"
"I said get out," Subaru snapped, without taking his eyes off Seishiro. "Now!"
"Makoto-sama," he heard Ameru say in his quiet voice. "Please follow Subaru-sama's expressed wish, even if his choice of words doesn't give credit to his manners."
Subaru waited for the sound of the door closing. "When did you plan to tell me?!" he spat the moment they were gone.
"Care to enlighten me what I was supposed to tell you?" Seishiro asked, pushing his chair back.
"You. Married. Father of three. Living in Osaka."
Seishiro blinked. "I'm not married, Subaru-kun."
"I just had a talk with your wife!" Subaru bit out.
"I'm not married," Seishiro repeated patiently. "You must be mistaken."
"Am I?" Subaru asked acidly. "Mariko-san was quite convincing!"
"I'm the father of her children, not her husband." Seishiro corrected him. "I'm sure even you know that marriage isn't a requirement for children. It's merely a social convention." A dismissive gesture. "And may I remark that you didn't consider Akiko-chan worthy of mention, either?"
"Stop being evasive!" Subaru slammed his hand flat on the table. "You have children. You are responsible for them."
Seishiro stood. The feet of his chair made a screeching sound on the floor. "Because I got told place, date and time and couldn't refuse at eighteen? Just like you?"
"At least, I offered my name had there been a child!"
"Names aren't required for fucking. Just for signing the bills!"
"You—" Subaru balled his fists. This was all wrong. "Your daughter's sixteen! You fathered her right after you made the bet with me!"
"The week before, actually." Seishiro shrugged. "And in a way you are responsible for the boys, so you better not hold them against me."
"How can I be responsible for your children?! I—"
"Losing depth perception is a death sentence in my business," Seishiro snapped. "I owe my life to the fact that my daughter inherited my talent. I got the time to adjust to my changed vision because they wanted me to breed some more." He laughed. A wry, cynical sound. "Not that it matters. The boys don't have a scrap of talent and their sister is old enough to kill me—"
"No!" Subaru cut in, shaken. "You—"
"Not?" Seishiro arched a brow at him. "Tradition makes her my successor, and she's already older than I was when—"
Subaru laid his hand over Seishiro's mouth. "No," he said. "Fuck tradition."
The silence following his words was absolute. Breaths feathered over his hand. Seishiro, kissing his palm after catching his wrist in a death grip. Painful. Enticing. Subaru swallowed. The words caught in his throat.
"Fuck tradition."
~:~:~:~:~
Ameru watched the door to the staffroom thoughtfully. Elder Makoto, rightfully displeased, had decided to confer with the chief superintendent, leaving him here to wait for 'Subaru-san to come to his senses'.
Subaru, who had apparently inherited more from Sachiko than just her green eyes. Not that the Sakurazukamori didn't match his temper. Their voices had become loud, angry, cutting effortlessly through the thin door...
Now there was utter silence, making Ameru worry about Subaru's physical health. If it continued, he might have to evoke the protective spells—
He tensed when the door opened.
"Ameru-san?" Subaru appeared unharmed. And determined. The Sakurazukamori was following behind him. Of course, this could all be a maboroshi...
...no, he wouldn't succumb to that sort of paranoia. "Subaru-sama." He gave a small bow. "Makoto-sama told me to get her immediately once you settled your—" He stopped short of 'lover's quarrel'. "—dispute."
"That won't be necessary," Sakurazuka told him, heading towards the sick room which still held their luggage. "We're leaving."
"There is too much to be done today for us to stay any longer," Subaru explained. "Please inform elder Makoto that I will fax a proper report to the main house later today. She may give her own account of last night's exorcism truthfully based on what she saw. I've got nothing to hide." There was pain in his words. And pride as he glanced briefly at the Sakurazukamori, who was returning with his suitcase and Subaru's satchel. "Not any more."
"I will." Ameru gave him a proper bow. He swallowed. Sachiko's eyes were looking at him. Bright, determined green, deep enough to—
Something must have shown on his face. Subaru caught his wrist. "Who are you?"
"Shiro Ameru," he said hoarsely, freeing his hand as he stepped back, bowing again. "Let's leave it at that."
~:~:~:~:~
Ueno Koen exit of Ueno Station, Tokyo
10:28
Seishiro ground his teeth as he crossed from the sunlit plaza in front of Ueno Station into the moving shadows of the less frequented paths of the park, while Subaru was continuing on the train to Uguisudani, taking their luggage home. A headache had begun to throb in his temples, reminding him that he was overexerting himself. Again. Still, what he had learned of the wakizashi Subaru had sunk into the Tree's trunk was worrisome. Whether or not it would affect the Sakura depended greatly on how well Subaru's suicidal ancestor had focused his spell.
A spell still active after four hundred years... Was the blade feeding on the powers it consumed or actually storing them? And if so, for whom?
Fine gravel scrunched under the leather soles of his shoes. The sun was hot on his shoulders and, after a moment, he shucked his jacket and carried it over his shoulder as he left the path, walking the last meters through the spring-fresh grass. The Sakura's physical hold in the world of the living appeared healthy from afar, and the Sakura itself was reassuringly strong in his mind when the eternal maboroshi closed around him, filling the air with the scents of blossoms and blood.
He abandoned his jacket over one of the smaller branches and, shirt-sleeved, pulled himself up to rest against the trunk in the first large fork. Allowing the Sakura's power to flow through him in the rhythm of his pulse, he eased his fatigue while searching for changes in its overall presence. A nosy twig wound into his collar, a second played with his wrist. He winced when a third brushed over the pulse in his throat. He caught it with a firm, "No."
Surprisingly, the Tree yielded, thickening the blossoms around him.
"How does your newest acquisition do?" Seishiro asked casually, savoring the additional cushion.
...he's a loud one... the Tree rustled. ...it will take many drupes in many years to scatter him properly...
Seishiro glanced down at the glittering silver thorn protruding from its side. The resin had hardened around it to something like black scab. "What about the blade?"
The branch right above his head moved at his words. A tuft of blossoms ruffled his hair. ...Are you worried?...
"Curious." Seishiro huffed. "I wondered what they came up with to harm themselves."
The Tree shook as if laughing. ...It's binding Sumeragi magic. It offers the prey once touched...
So Subaru's ancestor created a link to the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead. Had he been aware that he offered his gift to the Sakura? Seishiro frowned, considering it unlikely. Still interesting. More than interesting, actually. He settled back into the blossoms. He would have to investigate that. "So, shall I bring Subaru to remove it?"
...in a few years when Yue's infatuation is more scattered... More blossoms closed around him. ...Make sure he survives until then...
"If he survives tonight." Seishiro suppressed a yawn.
The blossoms tightened. ...Make sure that he does...
~:~:~:~:~
Ueno-Sakuragi-cho, Tokyo
10:41
The house lay quiet in the late morning sun. Seen through the dark iron bars of the gate, its pale yellow facade appeared brighter, more cheerful than Subaru remembered it to be. Yoshi sat in front of the door, looking at him expectantly. From the looks of his ruffled fur, he'd managed to squeeze his bulk through the gate. Light wind moved the branches of the ancient ginkgo behind the house, adding the rustle of still young leaves to the faint singing of the guardian dead. Their quiet melody closed around Subaru the moment he stepped through the gate, dragging Seishiro's suitcase over worn stone slabs. Yoshi rose, slunk leisurely toward him to worm around his legs and — ultimately — topple the suitcase to sit on it. With a fatalistic shrug Subaru released the handle and went inside, leaving case and cat outside in the sun.
He left the key on the small hallway table at the top of the steps and stopped, looked back through the open front door at the abandoned suitcase outside and frowned. Why was the cat unaffected by the sleeping spell wrought on the third step when it strolled in? It didn't have a key...
Subaru shook his head and headed into the kitchen. The phone rang when he was putting on the water for tea. He answered it on the fourth ringing. "Sak—" There wasn't a reason to hide their names on the phone any longer, was there? But just in case— "Yes, please?"
=Sumeragi-san?= — Imonoyama.
"On the line."
=Wonderful.= The relief in the chairman's voice was almost palpable. =Is everything alright? I've been trying to reach you since our abruptly terminated call last week.=
"I'm sorry. I— we had a difficult exorcism. We've barely been home since then." And when they'd been home, there hadn't been time to worry about phones, faxes, and other mundane tasks.
=In that case I have to apologize.= Imonoyama laughed. =I'm afraid I've been the bane of your mailbox.=
"Concern for another person's well-being is never a reason to apologize, Imonoyama-san," Subaru replied. "Please do not worry about it."
=Thank you. However, I'm calling with a request. Kotori-chan's obit is coming up and I'm making arrangements for a memorial service at her grave. She was a member of the Togakushi shrine, but given the circumstances of her death, having the current kannushi hold the ceremony seems inappropriate.=
"Very," Subaru confirmed. "Do you want me to hold the service for her?" he guessed.
=It would be a great relieve. I'm certain Kamui-kun will approve.=
Seishiro wouldn't, but he'd worry about that later. "Do you know who will attend?"
=Kamui and Mono-kun for sure. Kasumi-san. Aoki-san wasn't sure he'd be in time due to a manga event in Nagasaki, and I haven't heard from Nekoi-san. There was no trace of Arisugawa or Kishuu-san.=
"I know how to contact them," Subaru told him. "I'll make sure they'll get the invitation in time. You might want to inform the others that I will bring Seishiro, in case the Twin Star makes an appearance."
=Of course.= There was a brief hesitation, then, =The service is scheduled for ten in the morning. I'll make sure the facilities at the mansion are available for your preparations.=
"That will be very helpful. Thank you."
=No, thank you for helping me out at such a short notice.= Imonoyama stated firmly. =Until Saturday, then.=
"I'm honored to hold the service, Imonoyama-san. Until Saturday." Subaru hung up and made a note on the writing pad. A memorial service with both Kamui being present. Sakura tea forced down his throat and a dire warning about decisions not being Seishiro's alone crossed his mind. He would have to be careful. A whiff of fresh air whispered in, reminding him that the front door was still open. The water cooker beeped in the kitchen. And stopped. "Seishiro?"
"He's sleeping at the Sakura," Yue's calm voice said behind him.
Subaru turned, finding the spirit entirely solid. Sheathed jian in hand. Fourteen-hundred years old and capable of passing for a living in broad daylight. A spirit, who should have moved on. Suddenly, he felt tired. "Why are you still here?" he asked. "Sado is gone. You can rest now."
Yue shrugged daintily and smiled. "I don't want to. This is too interesting."
"But your unresolved responsibility is fulfilled."
"And I thank you for that." Yue sounded amused. "I'm sure Sei-chan's life is a lot easier now. If only with respect to his basement." He straightened, sobered. "The Sakura sends word that it accepts your claim, as long as his continuing service is unaffected."
"My cl—?" Subaru stopped. "I claim your life," he'd told Seishiro in the East Gardens yesterday — life, because the offered death had been an unbearable concept — and now the Sakura had answered, dead serious. "Can you—" he began, but Yue was gone.
Subaru was alone in the bedroom.
~:~:~:~:~
Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West)
Sumeragi Family Residence
"To think that the child even secured imperial support for his plans." The former head of the Sumeragi sighed. "I never thought he'd go so far."
"So we were truly graced with a visit?" Makoto stoked the glowing coals in the small iron tea stove standing between them. The visit from Subaru's grandmother hadn't come unexpected. "An honor not given to our house since before the abdication of the last shogun," she continued.
"If only Subaru-san's initiative weren't that harebrained." The former head inclined her head in sorrow. "The shame when it fails..."
"The esteem when he succeeds." Makoto put the coal tongues aside and infused a cup of tea with water. "You should have faith in Subaru-san. He's a grown man with sound reasoning."
"Infatuated with the Sakurazukamori."
"No," Makoto corrected quietly. "In love with the Sakurazukamori; but he is neither blinded nor governed by that love. The Sakurazukamori doesn't control him any more than he controls the Sakurazukamori." If only Subaru's grandmother would believe that. "I observed the whole ritual last night and the dynamics between them. I talked with them afterwards, with both of them. And Subaru-san's right, the feud is a disgrace. We should have talked with the Sakurazukamori ages ago."
"You don't know him. You don't know what that man is capable of."
"Allow me to speak freely," Makoto said in a formal voice. "You forget what Subaru-san is capable of, and he knows the Sakurazukamori in ways we can't even begin to imagine."
Subaru's grandmother laughed humorlessly. "The child was nearly destroyed by him, Makoto. How can we trust Subaru-san to defeat him this time?"
"You said it yourself: the child. For you, Subaru-san has always been the child you raised, your beloved grandson to be protected at all costs. Back then, he was that child, innocent and naive and not capable of handling what he was facing. But that has changed. He is a grown man, a professional, and he knows what he is dealing with. Intimately."
Another wry sound. "He made entirely sure that we know that." The twelfth head averted her eyes. "And you call that mature?"
Makoto sighed. "No. I call it desperate."
~:~:~:~:~
Ueno-Sakuragi-cho, Tokyo
15:55
"The Sakura accepts your claim, as long as his continuing service is unaffected." The message repeated itself in Subaru's head, together with "Keep in mind that some decisions aren't mine alone." He'd opened one of the French windows, pushing it wide to sit on the floor with his back to the bed, his feet dangling outside over already lush grass. He'd been in the shadow at first, but now Amaterasu's warmth touched his face.
Pulling a leg up, Subaru rested his chin on his knee, listening to his ferns swaying outside in the breeze. Their whispers mingled with the rustle of the ginkgo's leaves and the song of the guardian dead filling the house. Occasionally, a sun ray passed through the old tree's crown and a frond in its shadow shone bright emerald green.
"Keep in mind that some decisions aren't mine alone," Seishiro had told him, and Subaru hadn't heeded the advice. On the contrary, he'd thought only of Seishiro, and now the Sakura had accepted his claim instead.
Subaru shivered. The protective spells still inked on his skin itched under Amaterasu's heat. What would he do on the day Seishiro did not return, when Seishiro's life — claimed or not — was taken away and another guardian served the Tree? Subaru closed his eyes. Would he be able to work with Seishiro's successor? The scars on the back of his hands tingled, knowing better.
"I will be content," Mariko had said. "With the knowledge that he, too, has found a measure of happiness."
Outside, the wheels of the suitcase clacked over the stones. The front door closed and Seishiro's faint "tadaima" came from the genkan. The following sound of someone stumbling on the stairs and a "You're supposed to be Yoshino's cat!" almost called a smile to Subaru's lips.
Almost. Because he wasn't as strong as Mariko-san. He couldn't be content like that.
Subaru kicked his shoes into the garden and stood.
Seishiro was already shrugging out of his jacket when he came into the bedroom, followed by an enthused Yoshi more or less circling around him. "Sorry about the delay." A swift tug released the knot of his tie. "I was held up in the park." There was no gun in his belt when he opened the closet.
"Obviously." Subaru plucked a sakura petal out of Seishiro's hair, inspected it, and showed it to him. Pale pink was lined with the maroon of yesterday's blood, a reminder of their exorcism. "You risked my life when you entered the circle." The And yours. remained unsaid.
"You were about to lose." Seishiro put his jacket on a hanger and patted the tie flat before hanging it up as well. "Sado had already drawn blood."
"Sado couldn't afford to be wrong." A fluffy, red-tabbied tail vanished between the hanging clothes and Subaru hurried to keep Yoshi from getting locked in. "As I was about to tell him." And you. Also unsaid.
"Sado wasn't entirely sane."
"But determined with his plans." Subaru scratched the cat between the ears, earning a contented purring and a frown from Seishiro, who locked the closet. He sat Yoshi down on the bed. "As am I. But I need to know what I'm dealing with."
"Indeed. We've got a section meeting at 8 pm." Seishiro had sat down at his desk, was already booting the laptop.
"Today?" Subaru asked incredulously. "It didn't occur to you to tell me sooner?"
"It was arranged this morning," Seishiro said, frowning through his glasses. "I didn't know any sooner myself."
"And you expect me to face an organization of spiritual killers without any preparation in—" Subaru glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. "—less than four hours?!"
Seishiro laughed. "The way you say that sounds like they're yakuza."
"For all I know they could be worse!" Subaru snapped. "What you told me about them at the end of the bet doesn't fit with what I learned about them since I've been here."
"And what did you learn?" Seishiro asked deceptively soft, swiveling around to face him.
"I know that they tried to kill you," Subaru stated flatly, "and it took the goddess of Death and Creation to stop them. They ordered you to have children with a woman in Osaka, children who will try to kill you." Seishiro tensed at his words, Subaru continued, digging his nails into his palms to remain calm. "You're the judge of the emperor, yet you bargain for a mere appointment, risking your life — and mine —, because they would not wait." The marks tingled now despite their proximity. "That's not collaborating, that's collaring!"
Silence. Seishiro sat motionless, Subaru standing three steps away from him. They both started when the laptop beeped. Seishiro swiveled around, entered another command and the screen filled with the now familiar logo of the sakura blossom with swords. He didn't look up from the screen when he said, "I told you what the Mori are supposed to be and will be again, when I'm done with them. They're meant to be serfs, not lords."
"Slavery is outlawed," Subaru reminded him.
"Employment isn't." Seishiro glanced at him. "For all parties involved." He nodded towards the end of the bed. "Sit down. This will take a while."
Subaru gingerly sat. "What happened?" he asked quietly. Yoshi rubbed against his back, demanding attention Subaru didn't have to spare right now.
"A succession gone wrong, I assume." Seishiro ran a hand through his hair, brushed it back from his face, then rested his elbows on the desk before the laptop. "It seems one of my predecessors got himself killed without a definite killer or a ready successor, leaving the Sakura without a guardian. His Mori offered one of theirs as temporary replacement and they obviously learned quickly that by controlling the guardian, they controlled the Sakura, and the Sakura is—"
"—power," Subaru completed quietly.
"Indeed." Seishiro nodded. "The spell that forces the killer of a Sakurazukamori to become the next one was designed to make sure the position is never vacant and filled by the most powerful onmyoji. Because if a weak person killed a Sakurazukamori by accident, the planned successor could reclaim the position easily, and in case of a strong magician the successor would be defeated. Succession used to mean passing on the spell by either recasting or death. The Mori relies solely on the second option to ensure succession according to their plans."
But Seishiro's curiosity about the campus, and his mother's madness, had driven him to the Tree before they were ready to control him. Subaru suppressed a shiver, wondering how many others had been killed. How many— Since— "When did that happen?"
"1868, judged by the abrupt change in the way the chronicles were kept."
And nobody had noticed, because the Sakurazukamori was supposed to be invisible. Subaru felt cold as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. The Sumeragi wanted optimized spiritual protection, but Seishiro sought something profane: visibility as an individual. With them working together, replacing the Sakurazukamori on a whim was no longer possible, because the Sumeragi would know, would ask...
"I want you to see—"
Their first time at Imonoyama's. Seishiro had forced him to look at their reflection in the window pane.
"—see precisely what's being done to you." Seishiro's hands had lain on his throat, his skin. "And who is doing it to you." Seishiro—
—who snipped his fingers. "Things are happening here. Bed sports will have to wait until after the meeting." The screen he'd tilted slightly towards Subaru showed something like personnel files. "Now, regarding the people you'll have to deal with tonight..."
Kasumigaseki-cho, Tokyo
19:53
Motohiro really looks like the financial accountant he is, Subaru thought as he entered the conference room of Sakura Enterprises' Tokyo office, stopping just inside while Seishiro swept further into the room. If Seishiro hadn't told him that the man was also a specialist in poisons—
Subaru watched seasoned Mori members hurry for their seats around the large oval table. The deep-red and black grained wood was polished to gleam, reflecting the light coming from three of the four wall-mounted screens: leaders of other Mori sections present via scrambled video conference. The fourth belonged to Shikoku-section, whose leader was here in person. He glanced at the woman who took the chair to Seishiro's left. Fujiwara Michiko, age thirty-seven, Mariko-san's sister. It was hard to believe that this energetic businesswoman was a Mori senior, but Seishiro had warned him. "Never take her for harmless. Dead, torn to pieces and buried twenty meters deep in concrete, Michiko wouldn't be harmless." Subaru recalled the words precisely. And she'd been the only one to greet him...
Powerful wards had burned against the scars on his hands since he'd entered the house. Wards he hadn't even noticed last week — but the Sakura had been with him then. And Kali.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." The shuffling of chairs ended. Seishiro's voice filled the room easily. A good speaker's voice, rich, nuanced, melodious—
Or maybe I'm biased, Subaru admitted wryly to himself.
"The herewith proven fact that I am not dead, and the circumstances of how this came to pass, require a few changes in personnel." Faces paled at 'changes in personnel'. "Your attempt to secure my position for a more conservative aspirant failed last Thursday and brought about the unprecedented event of the Sakura personally nominating said aspirant's replacement."
Heads around the table turned for Subaru. A small, balding man near the end of the table scowled openly until Fujiwara shot him a dark glance.
Seishiro continued. "However, the identity of this replacement complicates matters. Sumeragi Subaru, current head of the Sumeragi clan, cannot possibly take control of our Tokyo office. He cannot become my subordinate, because quite independently of House politics, the Dao, whose sources he and I have been since New Year's Eve, requires balance in its sources."
Ameru's protective spells prickled on Subaru's skin. He tensed in preparation. Now.
"It is of course inconceivable to violate the Dao, and it is equally inconceivable to dismiss the Sakura's expressed wishes." Seishiro smiled. "Hence, we will continue as official partners in a joint venture!"
Chair legs all around the table scratched over the carpet. Red 'veto' signs flared across the three lit screens on the wall.
"Unacceptable!" Fujiwara stood sharply. "You can't—"
"I assume all of you got the January memo about the revitalization of the Dao," Seishiro said calmly into the turmoil. "At least, you all signed for it." His gesture covered the whole room as well as the screens on the wall, but he looked straight at Fujiwara when he continued, "Nobody can deny that the Dao has taken hold. And it is unknown whether or not its sources are still required. Therefore..." Seishiro took off his glasses and folded them neatly. "Whoever voted for my elimination spiritually endangered the state!"
There was dead silence from the monitors. For the first time, even Fujiwara appeared shaken. No, Subaru corrected his assessment, scared. The spells on his skin no longer tingled. The magical attention irritating them had turned elsewhere, had... evaporated in very palpable fright. These people knew what it meant to be hunted.
"However," Seishiro continued amiably, "I consider it unfeasible to deprive Japan of half of its spiritual defense in times as troubled as these. Therefore I will adjourn your execution sine die." He put his glasses back on.
Cautious relief rippled around the table. Fujiwara began to smile and sat down again, while Seishiro studied them pointedly. "Given the situation, I'm sure you agree wholeheartedly that a repetition of this 'mistake' has to be prevented at all costs. Therefore, we will cooperate with the Sumeragi within the re-established government sub-department for onmyojutsu, effective immediately. The Onmyo-ryo will have its main office here in this building. Sub-offices will be installed in our facilities in Osaka, Sapporo and Naha." Seishiro glanced briefly at one of the scrambled screens. "Due to its special status, the Korean section is not affected.
"The Ministry and the NPSC have been informed. The necessary building modifications are scheduled to start next week and will be finished by the end of Golden Week. I expect your full cooperation or the adjournment will be void." He indicated Subaru, calling him forward. "Sumeragi-san."
Subaru's pulse flew at the malevolent attention suddenly directed at him again, but he'd done this in front of his own people, people he cared about. He could do it here.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began when he reached the table to take the empty chair at Seishiro's right. "Given the situation as it is, I would like to stress that my people and I have no interest whatsoever in your business and work." He waited for that to settle before he continued, "I mean no offense when I say that our definition of spiritual cleanliness is not easily compatible with the onmyojutsu practiced by your clan. However—" he looked first at Fujiwara, then at the three lit screens on the wall, and finally the people gathered around the broad table. "—the spiritual situation created last year no longer allows laypersons to assess the nature of our cases properly. Mistakes have happened within the respective ministries directing us. What we will form here is a coordination office to assign incoming spiritual cases to your or my people, and that will be as much involvement with our respective work as we're going to see."
"Excluding cases of significant doubt," Seishiro added.
"If there are any questions...?" Subaru studied the silent group of people in front of him.
Seishiro beside him shifted in his chair. "None? Good. Then we're d—"
A man in his forties raised his hand. "Kurotaka, risk assessment," he introduced himself briskly to Subaru before he continued toward Seishiro, "How will the cooperation be evaluated in terms of success?"
"A valid point," Seishiro conceded. "Recent months have seen an increasing number of cases assigned to us which had to be redirected to the Sumeragi behind the scenes. And I'm discounting cases we executed although exorcism was probably still possible. This number, indicating a waste of time, money, and lives, has to drop significantly."
"What about cooperation cases?" Fujiwara asked with a small smile, obviously guessing at what was to come. "You excluded cases of doubt from the separate work."
"Indeed." Seishiro opened the leather folder in front of him. "To address this, I am reporting on the successful elimination of a long-term spiritual threat to Japan: the Emperor's Murderer has been summoned, banished, and given to the Sakura yesterday in the Kokyo East Gardens. This is the first case solved in cooperation with the Sumeragi. You'll find a full report in the dossiers in front of you."
It was almost midnight when they finally closed the door to Seishiro's spacious office behind them. The wide front of floor-to-ceiling windows gave a spectacular view of the lit Kokyo. Even now cars filled the Uchibori-dori below. Beams of light created by their headlights, flitted over the ceiling of the dark office. The only other illumination was provided by the bluish spotlights on three silver frames on the wall opposite the windows. Each held a newspaper front page — Asahi, Mainichi, and Yomiuri Shimbun, dating from March 21, 1995, showcasing the Sarin gas attack on the Tokyo subway.
"A reminder of the cost of failure," Seishiro said behind Subaru.
Subaru looked back at him. "You investigated Aum Shinrikyo?"
"Yes. The government knew since June 1994 that they were playing with Sarin."
"But you couldn't stop them..." He recalled long hours spent in heavy protection gear in the subway tunnels.
"I got the case on March 17." A lighter flicked in the dark. Seishiro's face was briefly illuminated by its flame. Then only the red dot of the glowing tobacco and a first waft of smoke remained.
"It's not healthy," Subaru commented. "You told me that."
"I've got a green lung." Seishiro chuckled. "And you didn't care."
"I did," Subaru corrected quietly. "I still do."
"Probably you shouldn't."
"Probably not," Subaru agreed. He went over to the windows. Outside, the lit Kokyo gleamed white in the darkness of the park that had seen his ancestor's final demise and Mariko-san's revelations. It seemed a lifetime ago. It wasn't even yesterday. He was the head of his house. He should care about doing the right thing. He rested his bandaged palm against the window pane. Whom was he deceiving?
In the cold glass he saw Seishiro discarding his just-lit cigarette in the crystal ashtray on the desk and taking something from one of the drawers. "Subaru-kun." The tone was low, sensual, sending a shiver down Subaru's spine. The scent of Sakura hung in the air. This was no longer about smoking. Or caring. "Come here."
Or doing the right thing. Subaru turned his back to the Kokyo. Seishiro didn't reach out. He didn't have to. Subaru went willingly.
Seishiro pulled him close. "This is after the meeting."
Subaru's breath hitched as teeth scraped over the pulse in his throat. The edge of the desk pressed into his rear. He dug his hands — bandaged and whole — into Seishiro's hair. His turtleneck was pushed up. He felt Seishiro's fingertips trailing over his body, tracing the spells still inked on his skin. The sigil at his lowest tanden flared. There was too much cloth between them—
Seishiro opened his pants. Subaru kicked his off when he was shoved onto the desk. He slung his legs around lean hips, felt hard, polished wood cool against his bare back. Something wet was squeezed into him, followed by—
The hot body above him, pressing him down, taking him in sharp thrusts intensified by the unyielding surface beneath him. The brush of an open shirt over sweating skin, the heat of the body above him, inside him... Skin and silk. Sakura. Seishiro. Mine!
The thought echoed in the spirit world, shook roots and branches alike, and the strained fabric between the worlds tore…
~:~:~:~:~
CLAMP Campus, Tokyo,
Imonoyama Mansion
April 20, 2000 — 00:47 [Thursday]
"Yes, Saturday morning." Imonoyama Nokoru confirmed, suppressing a yawn, as the door to his office opened quietly. A slight irregularity of the steps and the faint clack of a walking stick revealed the identity of his late night visitor even before Suoh came into view. Nokoru raised his hand in silent greeting, while telling Ijyuin on the phone, "Come the night before. I'll make sure everything goes smoothly. Until then." He disconnected the heavily scrambled line and leaned back in his chair, exhausted.
"You look horrible, Kaicho," Suoh said as he sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the desk.
Nokoru sighed. "I'm getting old. I can no longer pull all-nighters without having to pay for it."
"Don't bother pretending you're here to catch up on your paperwork," Suoh asked, good-humored. "We both know you still owe some from elementary school."
"Please," Nokoru rolled with his eyes. "I caught up with the red tape from junior high two months ago." He lost the fight with another yawn.
Suoh's dark eyes glittered. "So, who's the lucky one to leave you worn like this?"
"Seishiro."
"What!?" Suoh barked, almost leaping from his perch. "You slept with—?!"
"I most assuredly did not!" Nokoru protested. "What makes you think such nonsense?"
"You just said—"
"I said that I had a sleepless night because of him," Nokoru exclaimed, exasperated. "Not that I slept with him!" He slumped back in his chair. "I just never thought him to be—"
"What? The Sakurazukamori?" Suoh snorted.
"Ah bah!" Nokoru waved it aside. "Not that. Who he is."
"Sorry?"
"Akira's uncle."
Suoh stared at him. "Say that again."
"Akira's uncle. And I'm not joking, Suoh. Akechi-sensei showed me the DNA profile. He's an Ijyuin descendant without a doubt."
"I need to sit down," Suoh muttered.
"You are sitting already," Nokoru reminded him.
"Then I need to lie down." Suoh groaned as if in pain. "Sei is..."
"The first real trace of Akechi's and Ijyuin's missing father, yes."
"They'll never let it go."
"Now do you see why I've been getting no sleep recently?" Nokoru huffed. "I've been making arrangements for a meeting between them and Sumeragi-san this weekend."
~:~:~:~:~
Edogawa-ku, Tokyo,
06:06
The one who once hunted the power of god allowed himself a deep, satisfied smile. He'd awoken to consciousness almost six hours ago and was still lucid, still in control of this body. He could have done countless things, but right now, he preferred sitting here and watching the night creep over and out of the shrine yard. Wishes had whispered past him all through the night, though they were becoming tangled these days, blurred and convoluted. At first, he'd thought it was because of the shrine and the constant interference of the one who wielded the power of god — and played depressed brat instead — but by now he was sure it was something inside himself.
For the first time in this year that hadn't been meant to happen, his fingertips didn't come away bloody when he trailed them down his cheek. When he looked into a mirror as Fuma, he saw a pale white scar in his skin.
He growled. His powers were fading. Kamui's powers were fading as well.
Fulfilling Kamui's wish had become impossible, and regarding his own wish...
"And what is your wish?" The Sumeragi had asked him in the old reality.
"Only Kamui can fulfill my wish," he had replied, and he had been wrong.
They all had new wishes now, and while Kamui's remained impossible, fulfilling Sumeragi's was going to be the perfect way of getting back at Sakurazuka for betraying their purpose.
He who once hunted the power of god leaned back, staring at the sun slowly rising behind the old trees lining the shrine compound. Another dawn in the year that hadn't been meant to happen.
"Fuma?" Kamui, sleep-drunk, asked behind him. "What are you—?"
"No... not solely." He brushed over his cheek, felt scab under his fingertips, threw back his head and laughed. He watched Kamui gulp at the gesture and there was that impulse to pin him to the floor, slam— He shook it off. A swarm of birds took to the sky, their wings beating the air loudly.
The earth grumbled. A minor quake. Probably a three on the Shindo scale.
to be continued in
Family Matters XX - Family Matters