Author's notes: This fic was inspired by the pictures Kakyou and Kusanagi on their character files. For a long while, I had entertained thoughts of these two Dragons of Earth meeting. The two of them are both kind and wise in their own ways; I began to think they could understand one another more than I realized.

FYI: Kusanagi's Tarot Card is The Star

Kindred Angels

By Yuan

The bed was floating. In midair. It looked like someone had taken a gigantic pair of scissors, cut out the glass floor around the bed in a nice, neat rectangle and erased gravity from the picture completely. It was a nice bed, and probably would be comfortable to rest on if cords and long, clear tubes didn't seep from underneath the dark silk drapes surrounding it. Some disappeared into the void beneath the bed and some hung suspended far above the canopy. All around the bed, opaque glass squares similar to the rectangle the bed was floating on drifted past, smooth and dark.

But floors don't float, glass or not. And neither do beds. And tubes are usually inclined to abide by the law of gravity as well. But these didn't, and none of it made sense and the lack of logic was a strong indicator that Kusanagi was dreaming.

As soon as he had that thought, he expected wake up. After all, the sign of a good dream was that one didn't know it was a dream, and if it failed in that respect, it forfeited its claim on one's mind. Despite this, the bed and cords and floating floor didn't disappear. Kusanagi closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, but when he opened them, the world was still full of sluggish, floating glass squares.

Kusanagi walked over to the edge of the square he was standing on and looked over the side. After considering for a moment, he turned and walked back until he was the just the right distance away from the edge. He kneeled slightly, whispered a small prayer and launched himself forward.

He had half-expected to slip and slide the moment he started running, but for some reason the glass proved to have almost no traction problems with his boots. And although they were no lightweights, they didn't make a sound against the glass each time they slammed against it.

He shot off the edge of the square, but his stomach flip-flopped the moment he looked down. He had miscalculated the distance from his square to the floating bed.

He was going to miss it. Why panels of glass in this strange little universe were given the ability to defy gravity indefinitely and not he for ten seconds was beyond him. His clothing whipped around as he plummeted through the air and he wondered vaguely if he was going to die. Did this void even have a bottom, or would he keep falling forever?

Gritting his teeth, he looked down, then blinked. Maybe his depth perception was playing a cruel trick on him, but the floor seemed to be moving closer to him the further he fell. He held his breath, then relief flooded his entire body. It was definitely moving toward him. When he was about ten feet from the floor under the bed, there was plenty of space for him to land on.

He predicted the glass would crack, or at least wobble when he touched down, but it did neither. This weird dimension seemed almost determined to defy his expectations at every opportunity. He heaved a sigh of relief and then straightened. Beneath his feet were the tubes and his eyes followed them under the drapes over the bed. They seemed to be gathered in one pile in the middle. Like a nest on a bed. A double residence, Kusanagi thought with a smile.

As he approached, the shape on the bed became more defined. Kusanagi's eyes widened. A few if the tubes were streaming out of a body on the bed. Just like Yatouji-san, he thought, remembering the cold, quiet girl whose skin had been similarly pierced with wires when he first saw her.

He walked closer until he was in arm's length of the curtains. He didn't touch them. He was fairly certain the creator of this dream was behind the somber, opaque cloth, but somehow, it seemed wrong to just pull them back without warning. It almost felt like he'd be invading the person's privacy.

As if cued by his thoughts, the dark curtains lightened to near transparency and rustled slightly, though he felt no wind. Kusanagi's eyes widened. Lying on the bed, eyes serenely closed, was a young man. At least, he was fairly sure it was a young man. The face had lovely, delicate features that he would have immediately pegged for a woman's. The long, silky hair and slender form wasn't helping to alleviate any confusion. However, the plane of the chest and the width of shoulders were a pretty good indication that the subject was most likely male. Kusanagi's brow furrowed. This man seemed familiar, but he was certain he had never spoken with him before.

The curtains rustled again, then stilled when Kusanagi touched them. He took this as an invitation, and slowly pulled the curtains aside so he could stand closer to the bed. Looking down at the beautiful young man made him feel bulky and somewhat overgrown. Although he was aware that he was taller, larger and stronger than most of the men one might meet on the street, he was hardly ever self-conscious about it. It was simply the way things were. But staring at the frail, unmoving being made him feel slightly more aware of how powerful his body really was.

His eyes traveled to one of the slender white wrists that lay on the coverlet. It was pierced by a couple of clear, slender tubes that were held in place by tape. Kusanagi had seen hospital patients before, and this was almost exactly similar to the setup of an IV. Except normally, there was more than just a couple of tubes running into nothingness to give the patient what he needed.

Kusanagi shook his head. Enough of this. It was time to ask the only person in this gravity-defying, wire and tube abundant facility why in the world he was here.

He bent forward, placing his hands on the coverlet in front of him to support him. The guy appeared to be sleeping, but the way he was set up, he could be unconscious. He leaned more until his face was almost directly over the other's. Feeling a bit foolish, he cleared his throat.

"Uhhmm…hello?"

No response…

A few seconds passed…

Kusanagi leaned closer…

And then without warning, two piercingly golden eyes snapped wide open, scaring the bloody daylights out of him.

"AAAAAAUUUUUGGGH!" he yelled, jerking away. He took a step backwards and the heel of his boot landed awkwardly on the tubes diffused all over the glass floor. His rough, calloused hands snagged the silken curtains and for a second, he was afraid he might rip them or that his weight would cause the whole canopy to crash down.

But to his relief, the drapery held firm and stayed intact. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Kusanagi knew his own strength, and these curtains must have been stronger than they looked. Either that, or it was one more impossible thing this world had made possible. Perhaps he ought to make a mental tally of them. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned.

The young man in the bed had sat up and was watching him curiously. His eyes shimmered as he cocked his head. It reminded Kusanagi terribly of something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The two of them stared inquisitively at each other for a while, then the stranger folded his hands on his lap and said, "Hello."

"Hello," Kusanagi replied, mostly out of reflex. "Um…do you know where we are? How did I get here? Who are /you?"

"We are currently in Dreamscape, an illusion similar to the dreams brought on by sleep," said the stranger in a soft, mellifluous voice. "In fact, they are very similar to dreams in all but the presence of one or more minds influencing the fabric of the illusion. Usually the Dreamscape is first created, and then additional minds are invited in. These Dreamscapes are created by sorcerers, or in this case, a Dreamseer."

"You, I take it."

The young man inclined his head. "Correct. My name is Kakyou."

"Kakyou," Kusanagi repeated. He grinned. "You got a last name to go with that?"

Kakyou stared at him, surprised, and then he smiled in return. "Kuzuki. Kuzuki Kakyou."

"That's better. I'm Shiyuu Kusanagi. Pleased to meet you, Kuzuki-san."

"The pleasure's mine. You may call me Kakyou."

"Then call me Kusanagi. Hey," he said, as something occurred to him. "If you're in control of this dream…then nice save back there, when I was falling."

"Mm?" Kakyou blinked. "Oh, yes. I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you earlier. I'm afraid I wasn't in the mood to converse with the limited amount of people who have the ability to enter Dreamscape and I didn't know you are one of them."

"Neither did I, to be honest. This is my first time in a Dreamscape." Kusanagi looked around. "Do they all look like this?"

"No. It all depends on the creator. Perhaps this," their surroundings shimmered, then flew into a new arrangement, "would be more comfortable."

Kusanagi found himself on a tan leather armchair in a living room. The room was well-lit by what looked like early afternoon sunlight, making the pale cream walls glow subtly. On a coffee table the color of smoky topaz were two Japanese teacups with a simple pattern of maple leaves. Kusanagi reached out and touched one, amazed by the silky smooth finish.

"Is this setting agreeable?"

He looked up, startled, and his eyes widened at the figure in the armchair across from him. The skinny, tube-penetrated, hospital gown-clad young man was now dressed in dove-gray slacks, an off-white turtleneck, and a cream trench coat with neither a tube nor wire in sight. His long silvery blonde hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail; making it look short from the front. His complexion looked a little healthier and his body a little stronger. Kusanagi blinked a couple times.

"Uh, yeah. This is fine. This is nice. I…don't want to sound rude or anything, but why were you in that place before if you could be here instead?"

"Once the truth is seen behind some illusions, it does not always feel the same when surrounded by them again."

"Oh. So that was how you look in real life. Or at least pretty close. You're in bed somewhere, probably hooked up to an IV."

"More than just an IV, actually," Kakyou murmured.

"You're ill."

"Yes."

"With what? For how long?"

"Broken heart; nine years."

"Broken heart? Nine years?"

"Yes." Kakyou took a sip of his tea.

Kusanagi looked carefully at him. "Care to tell me why?"

Kakyou didn't answer. His gaze remained in the distance for a long time, expression still and dark. There was anger in that darkness, as well as a barely concealed pain that seemed like it might overflow in devastating torrents at the slightest touch. Kusanagi was afraid to breathe. Kakyou turned his cup in his long white fingers first counterclockwise, then clockwise, then counterclockwise again, though he did not seem aware for a minute that he was even holding it.

"I…" he looked down. The silence broken, Kusanagi exhaled almost loudly. Kakyou didn't seem to notice. "I don't know where to begin," he said with a sad, crooked smile. "It's quite a long story…do you mind?"

"I've got time," Kusanagi reassured him. "I mean, I don't know how time works here wherever we are, but I'd be happy to listen if you'd like to tell me."

"Thank you. Yes, I think I'd like to tell you," he said thoughtfully, tilting his head as his deep gaze swept almost probingly over his companion. He smiled again. "And as for time, well, time here moves as time does in any dream: unpredictably."

"Ah."

Kakyou sat back in his armchair, then made a sweeping motion with his arm that took in the whole room. "See where we're sitting? I've never been in a place like this before in my life. For as long as I can remember, I've spent my time confined in the same house. Much of what I know of society I've read from various reading materials. This dream is modeled after a photo I saw in a magazine."

Kusanagi looked around the room again. Everything felt real, for the most part. It felt warmer toward the area of the room the sunshine was shining directly on. The cups and armchairs certainly felt real, even luxurious. Either Kakyou was a master at imitation, or he had a stellar imagination.

Then something struck him. "Wait, you've been staying indoors in the same house your whole life?"

"No, I have not."

"What about school? Your friends? A job? Your life? How did your parents let this happen?"

"Let it happen? They made it happen. I wasn't given a choice in the matter."

"They made it happen? Why-no, wait. Is it because you are a Dreamseer?"

Kakyou looked at him appraisingly. "You catch on quickly. I was born to a couple of aspiring politicians who were willing to obtain wealth and power through any means necessary. This entailed, among other things, dabbling in the occult. My powers were obvious and potent while I was very young, and they took advantage of them immediately."

"And you were never let out of the house. Superstition, or for security reasons?"

"Security reasons. I had become a very valuable asset to them."

"Sounds like you were being exploited to me," Kusanagi stated. Kakyou sighed.

"Yes, but I was a child and didn't know anything but the life they set up for me. I accepted it. I lived like that for many years." He paused.

Kusanagi waited, and after a few seconds passed, he prompted gently, "And then?"

"I met her."

There was so much weight to that simple statement, no eloquence the pale man could have uttered would have made it clearer that whoever "her" was, she was someone of great consequence. Kakyou wasn't looking at Kusanagi anymore. His eyes were gazing into the teacup in his hands, as if it were the window to his past.

"She was…more than I could ever have hoped for. I wanted to meet someone, I was so lonely, and she came and suddenly, life became worth living. She and I talked about anything and everything and she showed me her memories and visuals of the real world, the world I couldn't visit. And then…

"Then…she was gone."

"She left?" asked Kusanagi in a low voice.

"She died. She was murdered," he said dully. "It was what she wanted. Protecting her brother."

"I'm sorry," said Kusanagi. He wished he could say something better, something more comforting, but nothing felt right. He'd spent so much time communicating to plants and animals who used a language both simpler and more complex than human speech; he'd never been able to shape his spoken words fancily.

"It's not your fault," said Kakyou. He cocked his head, looking a little puzzled.

Kusanagi began chuckling. Kakyou blinked. "What?"

"Your…head-tilting. It reminds me of a cat."

"A…a cat? They do this?" Kakyou's expression was so stunned Kusanagi began laughing again.

"Yes. Don't worry, it's charming. You kind of remind me of one, you know. You're kind of aloof, like they can be, but you're also very warm. And your eyes. The color is the same as a golden-eyed cat's, and they're just as curious."

"I…I see." Kakyou smiled self-deprecatingly. "I'll have to take your word for it."

"You know, I think I remember where I first saw you from," said Kusanagi suddenly, lightly smacking a fist against his palm. "You were in that strange room in the bottom of the Metropolitan Government Building. You were sitting on the throne." His eyes widened. "You're a Dragon of Earth."

"Yes, I am. As are you," said Kakyou. Kusanagi nodded. "If I may ask, what is your power?"

"I can talk to plants and animals. I can understand them," he answered immediately. "And, I can also control nature a little. Create earthquakes and stuff. I think some of my strength comes from this power."

"You have a special connection to the Earth," said Kakyou approvingly. He seemed to be a little envious. "That must be wonderful."

"It's okay, I guess," said Kusanagi with a shrug. "It's not always the most fun thing to have. I can feel the pain of all the plants and animals that are dying around me."

"Still, at least there's an advantage. My power is the ability to See the future. And that," he said dryly, "is never fun."

"I've never imagined it would be," said Kusanagi thoughtfully. "I've heard people wishing they could, but life is to be lived, not predicted. Sorry," he said quickly. "I'm probably not helping."

"It's fine. I know one power you missed," said Kakyou, his eyes twinkling slightly.

"What?"

"Dreamwalking."

"What?"

"You must have some Dreamwalking abilities to enter this dream. Unless you're Kamui, of course. My friend also had power in this realm, and that's how we met."

"Oh. Neat. Um, I'm sorry she died. I really am."

"I know. I can feel it."

Kusanagi looked up in surprise. Kakyou smiled. "This is a dream, remember? Feelings can sometimes reverberate through and through it if nothing restricts them." His gaze pierced Kusanagi. "You're a good man. Sincere and kind."

"I…well, thank you," he replied bemusedly. Kakyou cocked his head, his gaze contemplative.

After a moment, he said, "I wasn't expecting that. Because you're a Dragon of Earth. You don't seem like you wish to punish humanity for their crimes against the Earth."

"No, I don't," Kusanagi said honestly.

"Why then, are you one of the Dragons of Earth?"

Kusanagi sat back. "I asked myself that question a while ago, when we were all gathered in the Metropolitan Government Building. The Seven Angels fight for the Earth, and, as I've told you, I've always felt close to nature. Whenever some part of it is injured I can hear the voices of the animals and plants around me. Death screams."

He paused. "When I was younger, I did used to resent other people every time I heard about excessive waste in the ocean on the news, every time I saw the stumps of trees that were cut down to make one more building among the thousands in that area. But I came to realize that some of these procedures were the better alternatives and that almost no one who performed them had purely malicious intentions. They just wanted to make the world a better place, and that was the only way they knew how.

"Should humanity work to be more considerate of the environment? Yes. But do they deserve death? I don't think so. That is why I will not help the Seven Angels destroy them."

"And yet you do not actively try to stop them, either."

"No. I'd like to stay as far away from all of this as I can."

Kakyou regarded him. "That is, if you will let me speak frankly, kind of hypocritical, don't you think? You don't want humanity to die, but you will not try to assist in their salvation."

Kusanagi sat back in his leather armchair. "I don't blame you for thinking that. But really, who am I to save them? I believe there is a Dragon of Heaven to each Dragon of Earth for a reason. The Seals and the Angels are, essentially, evenly matched, and will do what they will for their causes. And finally, the two Kamui will determine which future is in store for the Earth and humanity. In the end, I believe the victorious will bring about the rightful future. I guess I just hope for the best."

Kakyou was quiet, reflecting. Finally he said softly, "Sometimes, hoping for the best will not always help bring it about. But I understand what you mean about wanting to believe."

Kusanagi looked up at the forlorn tone in Kakyou's voice. He opened his mouth, shut it and instead asked "Why are you one of the Dragons of Earth? Did you choose to be?"

"Yes. My future does not lie in my connection to humanity," Kakyou said softly, eyes cast downward. "I do not truly wish for mankind's death, but I do not long for their companionship anymore. I want to help them sometimes, but it's…difficult."

He looked up and regarded Kusanagi intently. "You stay away from the rest of the Angels. However, in doing this, you also alienate yourself from the only other people who may understand your power the most."

"There is one other," Kusanagi murmured before he could stop himself. He looked up sharply, but Kakyou did not seem alarmed. He just smiled.

"Do you get to speak to that person often?"

"Not really." Not enough. "When we can."

Kakyou looked at him closely. When he spoke, his voice was soft and gentle.

"Aren't you lonely?"

"I'm all right. I've go the trees and the animals to speak to. I'll never want for company," he said with a too-cheerful laugh. Bravado. He had never been good at it.

Kakyou didn't push the matter. He straightened, then blinked once, very slowly. The world around them began to shimmer as if it was silk in the breeze.

"Dawn is approaching," he said, setting his empty teacup on the coffee table. "It's almost time for you to return to the outside world."

Kusanagi thought there was something funny about the way golden-eyed young man had said "outside world," but before he could ask, Kakyou stood up. Kusanagi stood also. Their surroundings were beginning to fade.

"If you ever find yourself in a dream not your own (and you'll know if it isn't your own), you are more than free to stay here as long as you want, if you wish. I wouldn't mind your company," said Kakyou with a smile. It was a wry smile, but a sincere one. Kusanagi knew he wasn't making the offer out of politeness, or because the dreamseer needed entertainment. He was tactfully giving Kusanagi the company of another Dragon of Earth. Another person who may understand his hidden troubles. Another person he could talk to without hiding anything at all.

And maybe, hopefully, another friend. Kusanagi smiled.

"Thanks. Y'know, I'll take you up on the offer."

Kakyou's expression was like the air after rainfall, clear and gentle. Kusanagi felt himself becoming a bit heavier, as if he was being pulled away by the growing gravity of the ground. Instinctively, he knew he was transitioning. He was waking up. He quickly opened his mouth, and his words came out strangely muffled to his own ears.

"Hey, Kakyou?"

Though Kakyou's form was almost blurry against the brilliant white that surrounded him, his voice reverberated through the dream. "Yes?"

"You're one, too. A good man, I mean."

He couldn't see his face very well, but he could swear that Kakyou looked just a little bit stunned. All the luminescent white faded to black and soon Kusanagi found himself staring at the wall in his bedroom. Sunlight shone through the partially open window and he found himself smiling. He sat up and almost right on cue, a small brown bird landed on the windowsill. It chirped twice, and then hopped onto his outstretched hand.

It was going to be a good day.

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Somewhere in a world of light and shadow and everything insubstantial, night had fallen over a solitary beach. There was a vacation home right above it, with a porch facing the sea. A myriad of stars shone down on a pale, slender young man that stood there with his long hands resting lightly on the railing. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was synchronized with the rhythm of the ocean waves crashing on the shore.

For the first time in a long time, Kakyou felt the starlight on him.