Blank Cadence Chapter 4: Awakening, a x/1999 fanfic

My thanks goes out to Rei Asakura again, who is very honest to me about my writing and takes the time out of her busy life to beta this.

Chapter 2 - Awakening

There was an expanse of whiteness - utter lunacy – that white of a psychiatric facility that broken patients must stare at to pass their idle time; the boredom that clustered in their minds, as thick as depression, until the whole world was numb with the exception of one single color.… it was… maddening… this whiteness… like the white of death, the color one's skin turned once the body had just begun to rot and decay, morphing into nothing but a hunk of dissipating flesh... Subaru detested it instantly, shrinking back into the… bed… that was supporting him, wondering where he was, why he was lying down. What had…. ?

The onmyoji jolted upward, ignoring the way the wires attached to him jerked with his movement like many leeches suckling on his skin, the IV drip swinging on its stand, the plastic bag twitching like a clock's hand for a single moment before everything went still. Subaru blinked, swallowed dry air, breathed again, deeper, blinking, lost… confused… afraid… like he hadn't been in a long time…

…The spell ….

Seishi— !

He did not even finish the thought before he near leapt off the bed, the blanket fluttering away from his body, the cold air striking him and leaving goose bumps across his bare chest. His eyes were fully opened, and he was momentarily blinded by the brightness of the room as it impaled his vision like a blade. Something pushed down on his shoulders before he fully sat up and then proceeded to push him back down onto the bed, on his back - gasping, Subaru looked up, startled, his countenance tense and frightened, his mind disoriented as he thought only of what had happened, why he was in the hospital, and what had happened to Seishirou –

"…Calm down, it's s'okay," Sorata murmured. Subaru could feel the hectic beating of his heart, and he could finally coherently hear it in his throat and being mimicked in the heart monitor; an irritating buzzing noise like a mosquito in his ear. A moment of silence ensued as he realized Kamui was also in the room, hovering behind Sorata, his face pained as he stood apart from the spectacle, like a saddened witness. Subaru's eyes then trailed back to Sorata with a flicker, blinking, hearing and feeling himself pant.

"Wha-? Sorata-san-"

"I think you have a bit of explaining to do," Sorata said.

Subaru stared back into the chocolate color of Sorata's eyes, seeing his own reflection in one of them, glistening back at him like a dark mirror in a black pond, somehow making the reality of what had happened more intense and frightening. He shivered, realizing then his half-naked state, the chill of the hospital room making him settle back down to the blankets, to the infinite warmth of cloth and fabric and making him feel more secure in it; in a way that was almost delirious and feverish. He clenched his fists beneath the covers, heart still pounding erratically as he inquired mentally why his hands were bandaged into mittens and why he was lying around in bed when Seishirou could be in tenfold the amount of pain he was in right now.

Kamui's shortness forced the teenager to stand on his toes to get a look at Subaru, and it was almost comical, if not for the situation. Eventually Kamui became annoyed with that and went around Sorata to the other side of the bed. Subaru's white and green eye followed him, and he then turned back to Sorata's unusually firm features, not knowing where to start his explanation when he was confused himself, or what part he should be explaining.

And at the moment, he didn't care enough to give an explanation – he wanted to know where Seishirou was, and what had happened, why he couldn't remember pieces he was obviously supposed to remember. Right now. This instant. He tugged on Kamui's shirt sleeve, a subconscious show of his inner hysteria and anxiety, looking away from Sorata to be enraptured in the engulfing purple hue of Kamui's eyes, shimmering and glorious as they looked down at him. Kamui gave a tiny, broken smile at Subaru, causing the onmyoji to realize what he was doing. He released Kamui's shirt, his hand dropping to his side, made heavier from the weight of the gauze. He continued to hold Kamui's regard whilst musing rapidly, thoughts shifting through each phase of the spell, back-tracking it, re-tracking it, combing it for any lost detail, for the missing article of his memory that would end his fears with either a blast of horror… or relief.

"… He's fine." Kamui whispered.

Subaru's breath started going faster, his heart racing, not knowing which reaction was coming from which emotion and unable to place whom with what. He wanted to smile, he truly did, but he knew a small sentence couldn't describe the whole extremity of the circumstances. Being fine meant one thing alone – Seishirou was alive – but in what state he was in – was a different matter entirely. And so extreme happiness and extreme sadness collided with one another, leaving Subaru with only a small pang of hope that too had a counterpart to keep it from turning into something great, leaving him with nothing but brittle grains of a possibility; chips and cracked fragments that even slipped from his grasp. Subaru found he wanted to cry more then smile over the hideous apathy he contained; a dark mountain that constantly soared into the red horizon of his mind; the bloodiest of stains to his soul, like red wine spilled over a pale satin dress. …But he couldn't accomplish sobbing, either, not even a graze of it or a whimper. He'd forgotten how to cry a long time ago.

"It's okay, I swear it's okay," Kamui said, his voice edging into desperation, the words sounding more like a plea then a statement, right on the brink of a sob. Abruptly he grabbed onto each of Subaru's shoulders and Subaru stared straight into Kamui's poisonous, intoxicating features, almost addictive, as he distantly felt the petite hands slide around his shoulders and around his back, bare skin against bare skin, and Kamui pulled Subaru into an embrace, Subaru clearly feeling the way Kamui's hands brushed over his chilled flesh and the way Kamui's shirt did very little for a barrier between their bodies. An icy wetness ran along Subaru's neck when Kamui buried his face into the junction created by Subaru's neck and shoulder; tears running along his collarbone like a frozen stream.

Kamui trembled, sniffling, and Subaru watched Sorata from the corner of his glance, the Osaka boy's body appearing aloof as he stood apart from them, saying nothing, doing nothing to interfere or interrupt. Subaru focused his attention completely back to Kamui and stroked Kamui's back, and Kamui shook in response and the stream of water seemed to increase as it made his face slippery against Subaru's skin, his tears chilly and thick like cold syrup. He coughed, just briefly and sniffled again, nuzzling against Subaru's skin affectionately. Kamui then made the hold around Subaru's body tighter, so the space between their chests was nonexistent and he whispered in a shaky, low voice,

"I d-didn't… do.. anything… You c-collapsed.. and I waited for the spell to.. break… I wanted to help, but I listened to what you said—"

The onmyoji deliberately relaxed, and nodded his head in understanding, knowing it would be felt. "Thank you, Kamui. " This time Subaru made for them to be closer, the side of his nose brushing along Kamui's jaw, to his ruffled hair, feeling it more then seeing it. The onmyoji meant it, too. Kamui had helped and obeyed even if it had caused him pain…

Kamui choked a bit on his tears, before he shook his head, his voice turning even more hushed, so Subaru had to strain to hear him and make coherent of his rattling words. "I t-thought… I s-saw you fall… You weren't b…breathing… I thought… you died…"

Subaru closed his eyes, falling into a stupor-like trance, disregarding Sorata's presence from his consciousness and subconscious as he held onto the thin, small body that was warm and shaking in his grasp, the two of them intimately connected in that singular moment, close as they could be without being lovers. Subaru brushed the teenager's back with his hand in soft, tentative motions, rolling his wrist along Kamui's spine rather then grasping, dully feeling the linked chain of the bones even through the cloth, trying to do nothing but offer comfort. He winced, hoping there was no disquiet on his face as he held onto Kamui – he did feel guilt, like a small pressure of a feeble hand against his throat, for that risk he'd taken, what he'd done – but he didn't regret it. If it worked properly, he could never regret it, especially after all the mental stress and suffering it had put him through within only such a short time period. It was… entirely worth it… it had to be worth it…

Kamui was the one who separated their hold on each other, blinking; the whites of his eyes reddened and pink from aggravation, his cheeks flushed, breathing still irregular. He shook his head in embarrassment, playing out a weak smile to show he would be alright as he messily wiped his tears away with his hand; then balled his hands into fists and rubbed over his eyelids, the corner of his smile twitching as if it wanted to collapse all over again.

Subaru reached out his hand to touch Kamui's forearm, but stopped short at finally seeing the gauze around his hand, then both hands, surprised by the dark, ugly brown blotch of… indefinitely, dried blood, hidden beneath the yellow bandaging… Perplexed he curled and uncurled his fingers; though surprised, it didn't show on his face, his eyes appearing glazed and unfocused. The top of his hands ached when he flexed his fingers, skin painful to stretch; as if hot wires had been pressed into the backs of his hands – wires of a peculiar shape, of a star, an inverted pentagram, the symbol of all his love and all his hatred…

Messily he moved the restricted fingers of his right hand in an attempt to unwrap the left. "Subaru – " Kamui said quickly, ending his voice in a breath, and made to touch Subaru's arm – but Subaru's gaze flickered to Kamui, and something barren, something dead and unforgiving in his eyes prevented Kamui from doing anything further.

The bandage unwrapped, the cloth rolling away, Subaru's skin oversensitive and softened beneath it, pinked from the gauze. He flexed his left hand a bit more before letting the cloth fall away entirely, revealing his marred skin. There the pentagram stood, not in a glow of magic but in physical, tangible form, visible to anyone, even to a person who knew nothing of magic. It looked as if someone had taken a jagged piece of glass to his skin and sloppily outlined the lines of the symbol. Some places were more open and cut then others, and stung much more. The doctors had not stitched it together, so the parts of his skin that were split lay open to the cool air, and he could see the insides of his hand, of his torn muscle, and the caked, dried blood that laid around it.

It was deranged, seeing his own body cut like that, cut enough so he could look insidehimself.

Why had the pentagram reappeared on his skin in such a violent manner?

What on Earth did it mean?

Is this a reflection of Seishirou's pain…?

Is it even significant?

Subaru held in a swallow of air.

God…

I just want to see him.

I want to see him.

So much…

This is so painful…

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and by the broadness and firmness of it he knew it was Sorata, and its touch irked him incredibly for some unknown reason, but he said and did nothing against it, knowing Sorata meant no cruelty towards him. A shaky sigh emitted from the onmyoji as agony flared in his body, though he reached for the bandaging on the floor as if he was undisturbed, but before he could Kamui pulled it up for him and took his hand as gently as the wind, and began to re-wrap it. Subaru didn't object, and remained silent, though his thoughts were a far cry from silent.

"When he woke up, your hands just started… bleeding. I don't know why." Kamui whispered the last part, sounding ashamed, interrupting his musings. "You looked like you were in pain… I couldn't do anything…"

"I don't remember it." Subaru said quietly, observing the way his skin became hidden as the fabric lowered down onto his hand – Kamui stopped immediately, the second Subaru spoke, and looked up, eyes wide.

"..You don't?"

Subaru shook his head and the sudden agony he felt increased and made him jerk in automatic reflex. Subaru shut both eyes, white and green, as if he was in terrible pain, and his body trembled of just the faintest, slightest spasms.

"I want to see him," His voice was harsh whisper; dire and urgent.

An eerie quiet followed the onmyoji's uncharacteristic display of hedonism.

Subaru felt a hand lift from his shoulder and then the monk's presence maneuver around the bed so then he was before Subaru, standing just besides Kamui.

Kamui bit his lower lip, appearing smaller and frail next to Sorata's taller and larger body. "…You had a fever before, Subaru. A fever of 102F."

Subaru stopped his previous train of thought in surprise. "…how long was I-?"

"Four hours," Sorata interjected, and then sighed, his shoulders slumping. He looked weary and tired, as if he hadn't slept decently in at least 24 hours, and his eyes were unusually unfocused and distant from fatigue. It wasn't a stance Subaru was used to seeing Sorata in, and it further increased his guilt. But he had more important things to worry about right now…

As for the fever, his cut hands… it certainly explained why his body felt like it was still half-asleep. Subaru was unusually wearisome, in a way that his limbs felt like awkward pieces of wood and his legs were in the same laden manner. His stomach felt queasy and upset, as if he was resonating from puking, or on the verge of it; Subaru wasn't sure if it was due to the fever he'd had not too long ago (which he couldn't recall at all) or if it was from hunger. Perhaps it was medicine - he'd probably been given some to lower his fever.

His own sickness was hardly enough from stopping him from seeing Seishirou, though. They were obviously in the same hospital. So what other problem was there? It would only be a short walk, he could handle it.

Now determined, Subaru slid his legs from under the blankets, shifting his body carefully, like a snake curving on desert sand. Then nausea struck his whole torso, and he gasped, hearing dimly Kamui's yell of "Subaru!" while his mind dizzily spiraled before he could put both his feet on the cold floor. Pain burst on the side he was bent into, a wildfire beneath his skin and curling around his waist, and a whip-like cord of that fire lashing at his throat. Subaru pushed a whimper back down his throat. Sorata's hands were immediately on his shoulders, clasping him down onto the bed, his face somber. Subaru looked up at him, green eye glistening, panting, breathe edged with pain.

"There's no need ta' rush. Sakurazuka's stabilized, and he's unconscious, anyway – it won't matter to wait for a bit.

"'sides, missy and Yuzuhira-chan are here, too. They'd want to see ya' and make sure you're okay. We need to tell the doctor anyway, before you go anywhere."

At least the sense of dread that followed this sentence gave Subaru's mind something to concentrate on other than his queasiness.

But he truly didn't want to wait. He felt a weird taste of bitter, acid stubbornness and anger he wasn't used to, at the thought of waiting. He really wanted to see Seishirou. This situation was so precarious – what if he died in the hospital, when Subaru himself was only a few rooms away? What if Seishirou was conscious for even a short instant and he missed it? The list could go on –

- Although he could see Sorata's perspective on this. And Subaru did feel very ill, as if one movement of his body could cause him to vomit all over the hospital bed sheets. The imagery of that picture made him feel even more ill, and Subaru re-shifted his legs so he was in a comfortable position, trying to relax his currently hypersensitive body. All his nerves tingled with individual sensations, sensations of urgency and misery, and the pain seated in his abdomen that was causing the ceiling to become a blur, his mind melting into a pool of unfathomable thoughts; though it was an undercurrent, overrun by fatigue. Kamui and Sorata loomed over him, their countenances worried - Subaru wished they didn't worry so much for him - and that they weren't peering at him like that, in a way that made him feel so horribly for something he'd wanted to do, never mind how much he wanted it... "I'll get a nurse," Kamui said hurriedly. Sorata glanced at Kamui and nodded, and Kamui left Subaru's range of vision as he swept away in a brisk walk.

Silence ensued Kamui's departure, hazily making its way into the hospital room, thick like poisonous fog. Subaru watched Sorata stare at him in concern.

The onmyoji then sighed lazily, shutting his eyes, thinking back to what Sorata had said earlier…

What did I expect? I'd have to tell them eventually…

Might else well be now.

He took a deeper, more stabilizing breath that didn't make him feel less ill or more confident - making the effort useless. But there was nothing to hide anymore and nothing to be ashamed of. Subaru knew he couldn't constantly abuse himself for his wants and desires, not now especially, when he was so close to possibly achieving happiness. The opinions of the other Dragons of Heaven with the exception of Kamui mattered very little to him... He would be upset if they disproved, but what could he do? It was his... his only path to happiness… of any possible happiness, or even – not even that – of the continuance of his life. He did not want to live without Seishirou...

"…what is there to explain? Isn't it all obvious by now?" He murmured, thankful that his voice wasn't a croak, thankful for the illusion that made him appear as if he wasn't sick or worried or cracking under stress. He could only hope that Sorata wouldn't be completely revolted by his decision.

Sorata didn't answer, watching his comrade's in a calm equilibrium that didn't hint at his thoughts.

Subaru paused, debating with himself, but only for a short moment. "I'm in love with him."

Oddly, this major confession didn't make the onmoyji feel the least bit tense. Instead, he felt drained, like any possible fears intermingled with the confession had washed away long before he'd even faced them, or even thought of facing them. The hardest part of it had been accepting it himself, and he'd done that long ago; when he'd realized - after twisting himself into a knot of masochism - that he'd wanted to die – and specifically – by Seishirou's hand. Admitting his love for his counterpart was simple in comparison to every other complicated aspect of their relationship.

Sorata's expression didn't change, but something in his gaze was saddened, nearly sympathetic.

Do you pity me?

Subaru's expression was of broken sincerity.

Do you pity that I'm in love with the only person I should hate?

He wasn't saying the words out loud, but surely Sorata could have heard them in his countenance, written on his face like musical chords; playing themselves…

"…I'm not angry with ya'," Sorata replied after a long pause, and inhaled, as if to re-gather his strewn thoughts in the cool air of the hospital with a single breath. Subaru felt a chill drop in his stomach, ominous to his judgment. "Just…" The monk gave Subaru a tapering smile, and his orchard eyes were soft, but it wasn't with pity... "I mean, I hadda' feeling… You know… it was obvious, now that I think about it… But I… I didn't want to make foolish assumptions."

"It's not your fault," Subaru spoke quietly. "I hid it from everyone. I was… ashamed…" He sighed, trying to relax his tense muscles against the stiff plush of the hospital mattress. He played with the bandaging of his hands beneath the bed sheets, clenching and unclenching his sweaty fingers, skin stretching, burning and painful. He winced, and swallowed before continuing. "…And really, it's my own business. It's not something I like to talk about... You didn't know anything because I didn't want anything known. So please don't feel guilty because you didn't know," The onmyoji paused, and lowered his eyes, both unseeing and withdrawn inwardly, as if Subaru was visualizing a complete different world, far, far away from the boundaries of the hospital's milky walls. "I just…

"it's so hard… for me to-"

Subaru's sentence faded off when abrupt nausea rolled up his throat like a thick ball, and he leant fully on his back, shutting his eyes and swallowing again in disgust as heat made his skin rise to uncomfortable, sticky degrees, clouding his mind in steam. He felt it when Sorata moved, could sense it in his mind, and knew the Osaka teenager was leaning over him. He shuddered when Sorata's palm touched his forehead, quivered when he felt its shocking coldness against his slick, hot skin, as the long digits explored his bangs and parted them to touch his skin more fully.

"You're burning up again…" Sorata's voice was solemn and grave, and touched with concern. "Don't worry about' any of this stuff right now. Just focus on getting better, okay? No good will come out if we rush things. Don't be anxious or afraid." Sorata's hand roamed through the strands of his hair, brushing them back in soothing, tender caresses, gestures Subaru was not familiar to after the years without his sister, and he was too tired to make sense of the nostalgic sense of euphoria that threatened to drown him with the touch.

And it seemed like the most horrible of things when that hand's touch abandoned him; a strangled fear rose in his chest, and a whisper of a cry escaped his throat without his decision, his mind not coherent enough to know what it was for, the loneliness or the physical pain. He heard clattering footsteps and a few blurry, jumbled words, some calm while others shaken. He heard his own name being called several times, but he was not sure by who… and then something pricked into his skin, barely perceptible as it broke the barrier of his flesh and seeped into his blood in a cold invasion; and then the onmyoji was tired, so tired that he could do nothing more but succumb into… sleep…

Awakening from sleep was like awakening after falling asleep in a hot tub. Subaru blinked, eyes half shut and still dipping towards closing again, but his curiosity kept him from falling back to slumber. He parted his lips to yawn, but realized he couldn't as well as he would have liked – something was on his mouth, restricting the movement, and he reached out nimble fingers to touch it, his fingers sliding across smooth plastic. Exploring the object more, Subaru realized vaguely it was an oxygen mask – he could feel the strap of it around his head, digging almost painfully against his skin and scalp - now that his senses were beginning to awaken with his mind. Sleepily he moved his fingers around the rough strap, easing it off and putting it aside.

For a moment he simply lay there without seeing, the darkness warm, comforting, singing a hued lullaby to entice him back into dreamless oblivion. His own heart monitor had been put on silent, so all around him was quiet, painted in blackness, tranquil. He was mildly surprised to find that he had his own room, especially considering this was Tokyo and hospitals were usually filled to begin with due to lack of space and an enormous population… But also now because of the incidents with the apocalypse… it should have made the hospital much more crowded. So why had he been allowed his own room?

Dizzily the onmyoji pushed the question from his mind. The answer was hardly of any importance.

Waking up more fully now, or fully enough so that he could identify the shape of his bed and body, Subaru pushed himself up with one arm, wincing as he leant on one of his cut hands. Once upright he tossed the blanket aside – and his whole body shook in the shock of the cold air, and a tiny gasp escaped him, the hospital nightgown hardly doing anything to protect him from the cold. It was the equivalent to having a chilled river of molasses crawling over his skin, exploring him, raping him of his senses, even if just for an instant. The Sumeragi bit his lip, shut his eyes and curled up his legs, hugging them to his waist and shuddering, feeling oddly exposed even though he was alone. He wondered where his clothes were.

…I hope Kamui's not fretting about me. Subaru lifted his head, and attempted to distinguish shapes from each other; and this was a much more difficult task for him then it would be to the average person, considering he only had one eye. The room had no window, and thus he was forced to use the poor, miniscule lights of the hospital equipment as a guide.

He managed to identify two doors, but neither of them held any implication as to what they were for, where they led. Subaru plucked tiny wires from his skin, only feeling deft pricks and itches as he removed them. The IV drip had a larger, thicker wire, held down by tape and gauze, so he decided to leave it in, afraid he might damage it or himself if he attempted to take it out. Fully awake now, Subaru thrust his feet out from on the bed and onto the floor, careful to mind the IV drip as he did so. The icy hospital tiles sent goose bumps up his legs and a startled his heart beat, but he ignored it, took a hold of the pole of the IV drip, and wandered meekly in the dark for the door to his right - the one that was closest to the bed. Once reaching it the onmyoji fumbled around for the door knob, released the skinny pole, and used touch rather then sight until his hand clasped around slick metal. It wasn't locked. Turning it slowly he opened it, peeking in the doorway only to come in contact with what was obviously a closet.

It was impossible to discern what was inside it, so Subaru searched for a light switch, and when he found one the entire closet lit up in blindingly bright yellow. The closet was small; contained only a few boxes, save for a single hanger where Subaru's pants and shirt dangled from. (He hadn't been stripped naked, thankfully - he still had his shorts on beneath the hospital gown) Relieved, Subaru took his clothing from it and stepped back, turned, and leant to the wall, relaxing for a moment as he contemplated on what task he wanted to complete next.

Seishirou-san…

It would be easy to locate Seishirou. Subaru could sense his magical aura, the only magical aura in the entire hospital. Simple. Exceedingly so. He swallowed nervously, discovering then how dry his throat was – another reason to get out of the room - he could get a drink of water. Deciding on that course of action, Subaru's heart acquired a faster, painful pace, and his eyes traveled back to the translucent wire of the IV drip, then down the cord to where it invaded his skin cruelly as it sank like a snake's fangs into his flesh- spreading his skin apart, seeping into his blood- to where it was secured by tape and fabric, fixed into position.

It would be painful to remove.

Subaru remembered distantly he might have removed another IV drip once before when he first woke from catatonia, but he could hardly recollect the incident enough to give himself any confidence.

He glanced at his clothing, and sighed.

I have to take it out if I want to get dressed.

…Well, not necessarily. I could just put on my pants and keep the hospital gown on...

He shut his eyes in frustration.

No, forget that. If I'm wandering around with an IV the doctors and nurses in the hall are going to know I'm a patient.

At least let them catch me after I've seen Seishirou-san.

He inhaled profusely, and the fingers of his right hand wandered hesitantly to the underside of his left arm, dithering like the hands of a musical composer. He leant more securely against the wall and fiddled with the end of the tape, loosening it on either side so that the ends of it curled up like burnt paper, which was a bit difficult considering his hands were still rolled in bandaging. He could feel where the needle of the IV drip dug into his skin, and he was careful to slowly pull the tape up, from one side and then the other, inching and inching to the center, taking his leisure, not wanting to accidentally rip the tape out and thus rip the needle out. As if I need more scars. He thought with some bitterness, feeling more confident now that he had reached where the needle indented into his skin without mishap.

Wincing, he lifted up the tape, swallowing when the large needle moved beneath his skin. One piece of the tape still touched the needle, and it would not budge with his light pulling. He inhaled and pulled it off a little more roughly then intended, feeling the needle jerk, widening the hole it penetrated through and cutting him further, but nothing too serious. With the tape gone, the IV came out with an effortless slide.

Subaru blinked, looking around for a place to hold up the tube so it would not lie on the floor. He glanced at the pole – the IV drip's bag was dangling from nothing more then a hook. The onmyoji rose up his hand holding the tube and slid it into the hook.

Satisfied with that, he looked back at his arm, touching the small wound. He felt warm liquid smear around his finger tips, so he pressed the gauze of his hand to it, waiting momentarily as he thought of what to do next.

The Sumeragi turned his head towards the other door, noting the pale yellow light that peeked into his room from beneath it; and the sound of clicking shoes and rolling wheels as patients and doctors roamed the hospital corridors. Patiently he waited, spreading out a weak beacon of energy outwards into the hall to sense for life forces. He would wait until the hallway was clear.

Standing there, alone and in the dark, waiting for the people in the hallway to disperse, made Subaru feel as if he were a spy sneaking about an enemy's dangerous territory, where any sudden motion or loud noise would mean the end of his life; of his mission. He knew it was a ridiculous way to feel, but it made a halfhearted smile tug at the corner of his lips in a prying, insistent way, as his stomach churned like an anxious sea. He was both giddy and afraid, his heart fast and fierce in his chest, his legs numb and chest tight as if it were tangled in knots Again, ridiculous. If Subaru were to be caught, he would merely be lead back to his room - and even then he could ask the nurse (or doctor, depending on who found him) if he could make a quick visit to see Seishirou.

Somehow he still didn't want to be caught, even if it was a more logical solution.

Messily he removed his hand from the needle puncture, and stripped off his hospital gown, his whole body shuddering from naked exposure. Subaru only felt this way for an instant before he was sliding into his jeans, smoothing out the stiff fabric, and then quick fingers were doing the button and the zipper. With a swipe he then tugged his shirt over his head, momentarily blinded by cloth, but nothing more then that. Once dressed the onmyoji clasped his arm again, mouth drawn into a thin line, face outlined in pale light as he bathed in blackness.

No one was in the hallway.

Hurriedly he moved to the door, attempting to be soundless. Subaru easily turned the knob and then a second later he was out in the hall, shutting the door behind him, partially blinded by the harsh lighting. He refocused, eyes adjusting, and then his head jerked to the other end of the hall as a doctor rounded the corner; the doctor's head hung as the man observed papers on a clip board, silky black hair shining as he walked. Subaru held his breath, though the man didn't seem to be paying attention to him, or even taking notice he was there. He passed Subaru without pause, and Subaru watched his retreating back momentarily, hearing the echoing sound of the footsteps fading, before he looked aside and wandered the way in which the man had come, digging his hands into his pockets as he did so.

Easy.

Urg, my throat hurts.

Subaru brought a hand to his throat and rubbed the stark white column of it, soothing the pain while massaging it with light pressure and sinuous, circular motions of his fingertips, rubbing along the skin. It helped a little. His eyes darted along the walls in search of a fountain or bathroom of some sort, but then decided against it. His nerves were shot. The onmyoji stuffed his hands into his jeans, hung his head, paused, turned a corner, and then crossed his arms nervously, trying to hold himself back from crumbling into pieces as he followed Seishirou's unmistakable magical aura.

Indistinguishable though it was, somehow Seishirou's aura felt… strange. A magical being's aura was like a constant, soft light emitting from their body that changed only perhaps in dire, special circumstances – one being death – or perhaps in the prelude of dying, the aura would fray and discombobulate. Stretching out his senses further, seeing in his mind without really 'seeing', Subaru could tell even from a distance of two floors that something was wrong. Seishirou's levels of magic kept dropping, writhing, and then rising again in height, only to fall again. It made him nervous, because he didn't know what it meant, and it certainly wasn't normal, nor anything he'd ever witnessed before.

It was an easy enough task to walk across the hallway to the elevator. What disturbed Subaru however was the amount of patients being shuffled through the hallways on stretchers, many of whom were small children, no larger then three feet in height. Their little limbs had been crushed in the earthquakes and so various parts of their bodies were laden in casts; they stared up at Subaru as he past, their dark eyes glistening in the hospital lights, looking sadly helpless. Subaru swallowed and ignored it, relieved when he was finally in the elevator. A few other people were occupied in it, and so Subaru leant against the left back corner, trying to make himself as unobtrusive as possible.

Luckily the first person off wanted to go to the fourth floor, and so the onmyoji was allowed to leave the small, cramped box quickly. His heart was racing in a painfully fast manner. Hurriedly he moved down the white corridor, feeling Seishirou's magic become more propionate as he grew closer to him, as distinguishable from the loitering people as a beacon of light in a pitch black tunnel.

Just at the end of this hallway, now. Subaru thought, his mind oddly clogged and throat strangled. He swiftly cadenced down the corridor; like piano keys ramming down the scale, into the lower, profound cords; stopped, tried to clear his blurring musings, and stared at the room's closed door; sharp and bone white, though it was as plain and simple as any of the other doors. It was his last blockade. His eyes flicked up to the number, 282, though there was no name on the nameplate. The onmyoji could see his own reflection in the nameplate's metal; at least his outward appearance was remotely composed, even if he felt like his heart had dropped into the bottom of his stomach and then had spit in half and fallen into each of his feet, weighing him down and causing him to feel oddly empty and tingled with numbness. He squirmed, wrapped his arms around himself, and tried to crush the nervous nausea stampeding throughout his body. His hands were shaking, and so he smothered them into the crooks of either of his arms.

Come on, go for it.

Even if his mind was screaming to move his legs just didn't seem to want to obey – and nor his arms.

He tried to relax, and sensed the people around him glancing at him oddly. He coughed, a speck of embarrassment flirting up inside him.

..Maybe I should go back to my room. Come back later, when I'm less nervous…

…or when I grow a spine. He shut his eyes, blind and seeing, and took a long swallow of the stale hospital air.

He bit his lip. Hard.

Just do it.

And reached out for the knob ineptly –

Then slowly pushed the door inward.

And yet despite his mind's illusions there was no explosion, no burst of fire or blackout of electricity. A part of him was still expecting everything to collapse soon - things - were going far too well as it was. It didn't matter how it went wrong, what was the cause, it was just - bound to happen - and so Subaru found himself feeling rather foolish, and maybe more then mildly surprised, when he saw that the hospital room looked like any of the other rooms. Plain. 'Normal' even, if one ignored the extra equipment coating the walls, specifically for the patients that needed to receive extra care. The room was shared by two other patients; and all the patients were hidden from view by grey, thick, ugly curtains that hung like a tapestry from poles. Subaru glanced at each of them, and his mind rang, Door number one, two, and three. Though of course he could instantly sense that Seishirou was the furthest from him, with his bed being in the corner.

Subaru felt his heart thudding as he stared at the long, rug-like sheets keeping Seishirou from his view, and his whole mouth went dry, his body rigid. He thought about what was behind those curtains; if what was there was truly the Seishirou he had known, or if he had brought back something garbled to the point where it was impossible to recognize. Subaru had, unfortunately, seen many mad spirits in his line of work and he did not think he could bear it if he was the cause for Seishirou becoming one of them. It was one of the only things he feared; becoming one of those lonesome, lost souls, searching for something that they had lost in life, and not being able to find it… existing without memories, without personality, without companionship… just continuing for one singular goal… and only feeling the pain and self hatred… in trying to find something that wasn't there.

Seishirou… becoming like that… he could not even begin to picture it.

Dimly Subaru felt his legs moving towards the bed, and then his hands were touching the curtains on their own accord. He gripped the fabric with a shaking fist and pulled it aside.

Seishirou was sleeping.

Just sleeping.

Time stopped. The whole world stopped. His own existence was halted in a deadening dimension where he had no sense of self or body. He was floating amidst a barren world, watching time pass from the angle of a person who was not affected by it or its changes. The dragons of heaven, the dragons of earth – the apocalypse – none of it existed.

Seishirou was still so pale, so pale that if it were not for his chest rising and falling, and that horrible oxygen mask strapped to his face, Subaru would have mistaken him for a corpse. He felt himself wobbling forward, not realizing he was until the room was moving. He was a puppet that had just had its strings cut off, and without the support the onmyoji was going to crash. He thrust his hand out and held himself up at the edge of Seishirou's bed, never taking his eyes off the man he loved as he did, and trying to regain control over his limbs and muscles. His hands were hot and sweaty, and his arms trembled as he straightened.

The former Sakurazukamori if he could be considered the 'former' anymore was a sorry sight of his once arrogant, smoothly groomed self, and it was another reminder that the man was even human. He looked thinner, enough to be emaciated, and his skin was whiter then Subaru had ever remembered it being. He also looked very, very tired, even in sleep, and wasn't exactly in what would be considered a 'comfortable' sleeping position, telling Subaru that he probably hadn't awoken once, or that if he had, he was too weak to move. Seishirou's breathing was soft and slow, nearly impossible to hear in the soundless room, making it obvious as to why the oxygen mask was there.

Subaru tenderly reached out his hand, trying to sense his fingers as he did, and soon he was touching Seishirou's cheek, and feeling the rough material of the oxygen mask's strap. Seishirou's skin was warm, maybe even a bit feverish, and so Subaru's hand wandered upward to his forehead, slipping underneath his bangs and pressing the full length of his palm to his skin - he definitely a fever. Subaru pulled his hand back, letting it fall at his side, discarding it like a broken toy.

His heart was made of glass and the sight of Seishirou was cracking it, right along its surface and then edging deeper, into the core of his body, until splintering pain seared in his chest; making it tight and painful to breathe. The more he stared the more pieces fell away into the freezing bottomless expanse of time and space. His face felt wet, for some reason, and he lifted a hand to it, brushing his digits over one of his cheeks and then pulling it back to observe.

Tears.

God…

At this realization he choked, gasped, struck with some outwardly revolution, and instantly more tears were falling, creating a thick foam over his eyes, and he knew they were tears as the room fell upward startlingly fast and then he was on his knees, burying his face into the thin hospital mattress, choking on his own throat as he tried to remember which way he was supposed to exhale and which way he was supposed to inhale – and it was all his fault, all his fault that Seishirou was in this condition and it was his fault that the man had been dead in the first place, he should have known, he should have been able to sense it, he should have been dead instead --

"S-Seishirou-u-s-san.." The word tumbled out of Subaru's throat, higher and piteous sounding, and he choked for a moment, then jerked his face back and forth in the sheets, not willing himself to look up. Quaking fingers slipped beneath the blanket until they made contact with Seishirou's forearm, and then slid downwards to his hand, feeling the sweaty, awful heat of a fever on his skin. "I-I'm sorry… I-I'm so-orry…" Subaru whispered pleadingly, over and over, until he forgot how the word was supposed to sound and it simply fell out of his mouth in dented echoes, until his throat was far too raw for words, and so he left himself to the sounds of his own soft sobbing.

His eye was blazing from the pain of bright lights and the tears that made it feel as if someone had taken a hammer to his forehead. When he finally calmed himself enough to stop crying, he was still trembling, and kneeling on the floor, not caring if a nurse happened to come in and see him in such a helpless position, or if the other two patients in the room could hear him. The Sakurazukamori had not changed, had not stirred in the least from the noise. Subaru held Seishirou's hand as if it were a flower, afraid to somehow cause him further damage with any hint of touch. Seishirou's skin was clammy and far too warm, and Subaru swallowed and choked, while odd anger welled up inside him at the doctors who could not treat him properly. But it was not their fault, he reminded himself testily. It was his own fault. He shoved his thoughts away, making mental note to have a word with one of the doctors later.

He was afraid to lift up Seishirou's sheets and see how much bandaging was across the man's chest, or even how much stitching.

His head whirled in physical and mental agony. He swallowed another sob.

Such bright lights, such white walls for such a miserable place where so many die, where so many suffer. Subaru mused, and shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, both, out of habit, in an attempt to push out the dizziness and arising nausea. It was amazing how easily one could succumb into sickness simply from tears and stress, even within a short time period. But he wasn't about to go find his hospital room. He'd rather sleep on the floor then leave now.

Subaru carefully – carefully – slid Seishirou's forearm from underneath the covers, towards himself, so that the man's hand was soon visible, his own smaller hand wrapped delicately around it. His joints were stiff and his skin overtly warm, but at least it was better then being rubbery, cold, floppy, useless and dead. The onmyoji sighed, breathe rattling out of his wind pipe, and on a horrible impulse he nuzzled his cheek to Seishirou's hand, blush burning his face with the action. His vision smeared with tears, and the lights of the hospital became little white, confusing polka-dots, and his head gave a powerful thud. He swallowed. What he really wanted to do was – was -- his lips touched Seishirou's hand, and his heart stopped and then restarted with enough force for him to see stars.

How much he wanted to kiss Seishirou's face, maybe even his lips, but he was too embarrassed, sick, afraid and confused. He was feeling too many horrible things at once and his body was on the brink of collapsing in on itself, the only thing keeping him continuing being his determination. So instead he continued to hold Seishirou's hand, kneeling by his side and leaning halfway against the mattress and the bedpost, feeling it dig into his clothes and push against his skin uncomfortably, the hospital tiles icily cold and his legs already beginning to complain from the hard surface. He didn't care.

Subaru pressed his cheek to Seishirou's hand once more, amorously, and let his eyelids slide down, though he stayed aware of what he was doing; entering a verge in which he was neither asleep nor awake; the awake side of him keeping him from falling into slumber by reminding him where he was, what he was doing, while the intense fatigue and sickness weighed him down into laxity. One or the other would win eventually. Subaru forgot when exactly he let go of that hand and placed it back on the bed, and leant his head to the mattress, but he must of sometime during the ethereal span of time. Minutes stretched, appearing longer by his fatigue, until he'd completely lost any sense of time and simply leant against the bed, his body overtly weakened and begging for sleep.

He was at Rainbow Bridge again. Subaru had always thought Rainbow Bridge was one of the more beautiful areas of Tokyo, even if for the hundreds of thousands of cars that passed it every day. The air was always filthy with car exhaust, cigarette smoke and the paved streets were littered with aluminum cans and pieces of paper. Though not today. It was ethereal how desolate the bridge was when there were no people to crowd it with their honking vehicles; how wonderfully monochrome it was.

The water below the bridge was darkened with pollution, and it looked angry because of it. Subaru leant against the railing, staring down, wondering what it would be like to fall into the freezing, black depths, and how long it would take his body to touch the bottom. It was a very long drop.

He figured he'd die on impact.

"Subaru-kun."

Subaru knew that voice, but he dared not turn towards it; surely the same apathetic, teasing expression would greet him. Instead he glanced at a soda can near his foot and nudged it with the tip of his shoe, watching it slide off the edge and spiral as it was falling, falling, until it was impossible to tell if it had touched the water or disappeared in thin air. He couldn't see the splash.

"You're going to catch a cold if you stay out here." The voice spoke again, teasingly again, and there wasn't a hint of empathy in that voice. Seishirou's voice was so deep and throaty; it could have been compared to a cat's purr, and it nearly made the onmyoji shudder. Instead his eyes narrowed, a fleeting feeling almost like hatred rising in his chest, and he turned to his counterpart.

The Sakurazukamori was the same as ever; as arrogant and beautiful as he always appeared. Seishirou smiled at Subaru as he dragged on a cigarette, and Subaru could tell from the scent of the smoke – Mild Sevens, as always. He was untouchable, unchangeable, to every minute detail.

Subaru had given up trying to change him. It was simply impossible – it – had to be impossible. He stepped forward, staring at the man who had rearranged his personality to the point where he didn't even know himself anymore, and staring at the man he hadn't been able to change at all. He felt a bitterness in the back of his throat, and his heart sank – there was nothing – absolutely nothing – he could do.

He wanted to die.

He had nothing in life. His world consisted of Seishirou – and he was nothing to Seishirou – therefore, he himself was nothing. Everyday when he saw his reflection, he saw the person Seishirou didn't care about, the person that couldn't save his own sister, the person that had failed his grandmother's expectations as the head of the Sumeragi clan, the person who could never be loved by anyone, the person's who life held no meaning, no purpose, no worth or value. He wasn't even human anymore. He was a walking shell – his soul had left him, escaped to a yonder dimension, to another world that hopefully wasn't as cold – leaving his body numb of emotions. And the only person that could make him feel life was standing before him, smirking at him, mocking the agony he had bestowed with complete indifference.

His throat choked. "Kill me." Subaru whispered. He moved towards Seishirou, hesitatingly, as if his legs were about to give out. Seishirou watched him from behind his glasses, his expression turning stern, though was no more compassionate then before Subaru had spoken. "Seishirou-san – If you don't care about me – if you truly don't care about me at all ---" Seishirou was studying him, amused or contemplative, he couldn't tell which, with those damned glasses hiding him, always concealing him—"W-Why won't you…? I can't bear living any longer, if you don't --- if you don't kill me – I'll just – I'll – kill myself."

His heart melted away when Seishirou's arms came around him. Subaru could feel himself panting, his throat raw from speech, yet in the embrace his body relaxed; the tension draining out of him, until all he could feel was Seishirou's warm body pressed to his. His eyes closed in absolute exhaustion, and he still trembled yet. "Shhh.. That's it." Seishirou murmured, and Subaru attempted to bury himself in the hold as much as possible.

Eventually, when Subaru was utterly calmed – he looked up once more into Seishirou's face. They were so close together – nothing was separating them, there was nothing in there way; except for the mental boundaries and the past, and Subaru almost wanted to laugh and sob over the irony. How can I think like that? He killed nee-san, and he completely betrayed me, played with me... I can't forget it, I won't forget it. Nee-san… was so full of life, she was… so happy.

She didn't deserve to die.

Subaru clenched his fists, fighting the plunge back into hatred.

Seishirou flicked his cigarette away, exhaled a cloud of smoke, and stared down at Subaru. Subaru watched Seishirou sadly. He doesn't know how much this hurts, to be so close and still so far away. The onmyoji could see his reflection in the man's sunglasses.

"You really want to die, Subaru-kun?" Seishirou inquired passively. They could have been talking about flowers, or the weather; his tone was so careless of the situation. Subaru clenched his fists again. His heart was beating rapidly – then an absolutely vile – foreign, was a more accurate description of it – emotion arouse in him, like the way a kite loops about in the sky until it is touching clouds, until it is in the sunlight. He almost wanted to smile, but he'd forgotten how to.

Will he really kill me?

Will he finally put me to rest…?

"…yes."

There was a snap of power, fast as a lightening bolt, and Subaru saw Seishirou's hand dive at his chest.

There truly was no pain. His soul was so far away from his body, he couldn't feel the physical pain. Instead weakness overtook him, and he almost fell to his knees, but Seishirou's body was supporting him, keeping him as upright as he could stand. Subaru's mind fogged from tiredness, and he looked down at Seishirou's arm, seeing where it disappeared into his body in a way that was truly surreal.

Seishirou jerked his arm back – The onmyoji gasped, his lungs screaming in agony as soon as he did. His legs lost all their energy, and soon he was lying on the hard, cold pavement, with Seishirou hovering over him, watching him bleed to death.

Subaru clutched himself, trying to find warmth. His body was hastily becoming colder. Yet he was – happy – that he was in pain. He was so happy… his tortured life was finally ending…

There was nothing to be afraid of anymore… nothing to hate, or to love… this was bliss.

His eyes closed, and the world faded into darkness.

"Subaru –"

A voice was calling him from such a far, far distance. He was surrounded by comfortable warmth, floating amidst nothing, with no trouble or no worries. He was at ease in this splendor of oblivion.

"Come on – You ne---"

The words he was hearing only came in pieces of vowels. The noise was disrupting his peace; he squirmed, he didn't like that –

"Kamui-san, le… rest-"

The onmyoji was beginning to be able to feel his body again. He was under steaming water, and only beginning to resurface – his eyes opened, glistening in the hospital light, and he shut them immediately – both – simply out of habit.

"Subaru!" He recognized Kamui's voice now, surprisingly delighted. "How are you? Do you feel okay?"

Subaru momentarily blocked out Kamui's voice, and tried to reconstruct the 'dream' he had just had. He should have known it was a dream; somehow realized it in its play over his mind. Seishirou would never oblige him; never give him what he wanted, and certainly not so easily. He pondered on the significance of that dream, if it was a sign of things to come, or if it was merely his musings distorting themselves…? He sighed tiredly, and opened his eyes again to greet the living world, even though he was still disoriented by his 'nightmare'… if it could have been called a 'nightmare'… he could still feel the aftertaste of happiness inside him. It's amazing how mangled my thoughts have become. His body felt limp and sore, as if he'd just undergone an intense physical exercise for a long period of time.

Kamui was grinning at him cheekily. "I'm so glad you're awake." His voice was entirely sincere; which was much, much different from Seishirou's indifferent tenor. Subaru blinked, attempting to fix his blurry vision, and sat up, looking around. His arms wobbled like sticks, yet he straightened his back.

It seemed most of the dragons of heaven had decided to visit him – Arashi was sitting in a chair beside Sorata's. She smiled slightly at Subaru; an extraordinarily rare sight. Sorata was leaning his head to Arashi's shoulder, and was sound asleep. Astonishingly he wasn't snoring or even drooling, like Subaru would have expected.

"I'd get up," Arashi said quietly. "But he'd wake up."

"Mmmmpff?"

Kamui rolled his eyes when Sorata stirred, and looked back at Subaru. "Yuzuhira's in the lobby, but she'll be back here soon. Inmyomana-san had your room moved, and guess who else he had moved?" Kamui was grinning widely, his entire face lit up, clearly excited to see Subaru's impending reaction. He stepped aside, so that he was standing across from Subaru rather then next to him, leaving the view for his right side entirely opened.

Subaru looked over. The curtains around Seishirou's bed were only partially drawn, leaving him out in view for the small audience of the room. He was still unconscious and about as healthy looking as death. Seishirou had not been alive for very long – and Subaru could still - He could still feel it – his arm through Seishirou's body, his fiery, all encompassing blood, spilling over him, lining over him like a thin yet heavy curtain sheet, swallowing him whole, marking him, staining him, blaming him - Thinking about it alone made the onmyoji want to scream, so he stopped immediately. He couldn't act like that – not in front of Kamui.

Even as cadaverous-looking as Seishirou appeared, the important part was that he was alive.

And they were in the same room – though Subaru didn't expect himself to be in the hospital for too long – it was still a wonderful thing. Inmyomana had already done him so many favors; he didn't even know how he was going to begin repaying the man. Contemplating about it now, Subaru realized he hadn't signed anything in regards to hospital bills, or filing out personal papers – he hadn't been quite well enough, or in the right state of mind, to deal with any of the more mundane concerns. He'd take care of that the second he could.

And it was horribly tempting to get out of bed and drift to Seishirou's bedside, but the onmyoji wasn't about to let that part of himself show in front of the other dragons of heaven. He simply was so unused to showing affection in public; it'd be embarrassing, especially since Seishirou wasn't conscious enough to give any sort of response, so he couldn't hide behind the man's fervent jokes. So instead he held in the desire as best he could and glanced back at Kamui, who was watching him, still grinning.

He tried to smile. He was happy – it was just – difficult, even painful – for his brain to recognize the feeling. However what showed on his face seemed to please Kamui further, and he sat on the edge of Subaru's bed, inching his way to the onmyoji. "I don't know how to repay Inmyomana-san," Subaru admitted, in all honesty, as his eyes wandered back to Seishirou for a brief second, before they snapped back up to Kamui.

Kamui shook his head, sending his wavy hair astray for an instant. Oddly, the movement was sluggish, tired. Peculiar. "Inymomana-san doesn't want you to repay him. He was practically begging to do this. I told him, too. 'Subaru's going to want to repay you.' But of course, he didn't listen."

"I-It's true…" A voice grumbled from the corner, before Subaru could ask why Kamui seemed worn out. They both looked over at Sorata; who was doing a rather poor job in trying to impersonate drowsiness. His expression was far too happy, but Arashi herself was slipping into a light doze beside him; still allowing him access to lean against her as he pleased.

Sorata yawned. "You look better then you did a few hours ago, Subaru-san."

A few hours ago? "How long have you all been waiting here?"

"Dunno'." Kamui answered, and shrugged. "Couple hours… First… you went missing, and your doctor called us at about 7AM, when we were getting ready for school; and the first few minutes were madness until they found you, which wasn't until… 9AM?" Kamui murmured, hanging his head, and a momentary flash of sorrow rippled through the violet water of his eyes, in an elusive swerve, and then disappeared in an instant. "Arashi, Yuzuhira and Sorata went to school. I stayed here for the day. The doctor kept saying – that you – you - probably left the hospital." Kamui looked as if he was in an unbearable amount of pain, recalling the short lived event.

"Kamui," Subaru murmured. And some odd, outwardly impulse made him reach to touch Kamui's face, just gently, and push it more to it's side, so they were looking straight at each other. Kamui's skin was as soft as fine powder; and was the hue of freshly fallen snow. Subaru could feel his hair at the tip of his fingers; cool to the touch, like streamers of Chinese silk. Kamui's cheeks tinted pink when they made contact, and he glanced away again, as if ashamed of himself. "I hope you didn't think I was going to commit suicide."

Kamui flinched – confirming Subaru's suspicion. Subaru instantly felt guilt for his own recklessness, but he hadn't done it on purpose. Odd, how I just had a dream that I'd died, and now this… Though the onmyoji hadn't thought he'd be so tired as to not be able to make it back to his own room; probably the affect of using so much of his magic on a single spell. It would take a few days at least, to recuperate… hopefully, not longer then a month, at best...

"It was foolish of me," Kamui said, hurriedly, edging away from Subaru's touch a little too quickly. Stung, Subaru let his hand fall, but did not comment on the repulsion. He mildly deserved it. "I should have – I should have felt your presence. I wasn't thinking clearly. I completely forgot how easy it was to actually find you." His eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and grief. "If it had been anyone else – they would have realized instantly. I'm an imbecile."

"Don't say that," Subaru scolded, and sighed. "With what has been going on lately – it's understandable. But you don't have to worry anymore, Kamui. I'm not going anywhere, alright? And you need to worry more about yourself."

Especially in this time, this dimension, where the continuance of humanity depends on you. Humanity may be able to change its ways in the destruction of the Earth, but people can't come back to life once everyone is gone. It seems unfair that the Earth can heal and people can't… And what is so beautiful about a sunset you can't share with someone else, what's so beautiful about a city full of lights but with no people?

After all, beauty is simply a matter of opinion. Without people to make opinions, 'beauty' would not exist. Beauty is not a tangible, living thing, but something in our minds, a stereotype we create.

And I really shouldn't be thinking about these things…. It's none of my concern anymore.

Kamui, our paths are steadily splitting apart…

Subaru was trying with some difficulty not to continuously glance at Seishirou – his position didn't changed, and he showed no signs of waking – but it seemed as if Subaru was trying to make up for all their lost time together in the years Seishirou left him. Life and death would not separate them anymore, and nor their meager roles in the apocalypse battles; he would make sure of it.

Subaru turned back to Kamui, and tried to sit up more – realizing once again how fatigued he was. As soon as he moved, Kamui inquired, "Do you feel alright?"

"Just… tired." He explained, and a miniscule part of him was embarrassed by Kamui's evident worry.

"You must be hungry, Subaru-san –" Sorata yawned, and finally shifted away from the shrine maiden, though with some reluctance. "They've got you on the IV, but y'know – it'd be better to get some actual food inside you."

Odd, the idea of food hadn't even occurred to him. But now that he thought about it – he was hungry, and it might give him some strength back. "That would be good… but could you call a nurse, at this – " He stopped when Sorata stood and scooped up a small box that had been near him – he hadn't even really seen it before. It had a long cord attached to it that snaked down until it left his vision as it plunged under the mattress. Subaru leant over, wondering what it was hooked into, and then looked back at Sorata, while still partially leaning over.

Sorata's mouth looked like it was twitching to smile, and his eyes were radiant with humor.

Subaru could sense Kamui staring at him – glancing over at the teenager, and he could see Kamui was half-blushing, and had his hand held over his mouth.

"What?" Subaru asked, looking between the two of them, confused and more then a little disturbed.

"You're so cute…" Kamui murmured, though it was rather muffled and quiet. He immediately jerked his face away and buried his face in his hands, trying to hide his expression and deafen his snickers. Subaru couldn't see his face, but Kamui's ears were tomato-red with heat.

Subaru's green eyes widened in shock – though deserved – he felt like he'd just been slapped. "I—I am not." He said sternly, and sat back up tensely, wondering as he did if he should be insulted.

Sorata choked a bit on a laugh, swallowed it, and kept his mouth clamped firmly. "S-Sure you aren't—S-Subaru-san. Damn-" Sorata bit his lip to keep from laughing, and then mumbled hurriedly "I—I didn't realize you were like Kamui in that aspect as well." He chuckled, cleared his throat, and calmed. Suddenly Subaru felt Sorata's hand on his head, ruffling his hair, much like he did with Kamui.

This is ridiculous. I'm older then him. In fact, I'm going to tell him that.

"You do realize that I'm an adult and you're not."

"Heh! Like age even matters." Sorata said, and smiled as he removed his hand.

Kamui was harboring a glare that only a teenager could muster, though Subaru could instantly tell he didn't seem that angry. "What'd you say about me, Sorata?" he asked darkly, having swiveled himself back around into the conversation. His eyes looked profound, almost black in hue.

"Aw! Don't look at me like that. After all we've been through, I thought our relationship woulda changed by now."

Kamui jerked himself away again, so that his back was facing the two seals, and crossed his arms. "Whatever you say, Arisugawa-san."

The monk countenance was absolutely crestfallen. A whiny pitch entered his voice. "Kamuuii! You can't be serious!"

"You have no right to call me by my first name."

"Oh come on… Don't be like that." Sorata pleaded, and walked over to the end of the bed. As soon as he reached the young seal the teenager turned away again, arms still crossed in mock-rebellion. A small smile touched Subaru's face. The mood was infectious –

"You honestly can't be mad at me." Sorata whispered.

"Kamui," Subaru breathed the word – it came out in a hushed, hot wisp of air. Both the seals stopped their squabbling and glanced at him. Subaru looked aside, and pushed whatever vile expression that was about to reach his countenance away.

I can't believe I'm getting myself involved.

The muse was too fleeting for there to be a long pause. Subaru couldn't help the grin that curved at the corner of his mouth, as he looked back up into Kamui's violet eyes.

"…I think you're adorable."

Kamui's cheeks went so red so quickly – and not a pale, sakura-pink blush, but truly a dark, fire-like red that could have been compared to the color of wine.

The teenager then shuddered, and shook his head, as if trying to brush some odd feeling off. The blush went away as abruptly as it had come; simply drained out of his face, to the point where Kamui almost looked slightly ill –but he seemed to understand the gist of Subaru's comment. He peeked back at Sorata for a second, purposely, and then grinned cruelly in an almost playful way at the onmyoji.

"Thank you, Subaru."

Sorata was stunned. "…You have got to be kidding me." Then what had just transpired hit him like a truck. "You two…! I can't believe you, Subaru-san!" Sorata looked away, and faked tears. "You two are so horrible…"

"Oh, we know." Kamui said; his voice suave and heavily threaded with implications.

Sorata sniffled melodramatically, and turned his back on the two seals. "I'm g'unna go find Yuzuhira-chan…" He mumbled, and pathetically hobbled out of the room.

"Get Subaru some food while you're doing that." Kamui called to his retreating back. Sorata paused, then turned and replied,

"Alright," As he closed the door behind him.

Kamui looked over at Subaru the second Sorata was completely out of sight. His eyes shifted nervously to Arashi, who was sound asleep, and then moved back to Subaru.

"How are you, Subaru?" He inquired simply, his voice as soft as warm cotton blankets and an evening sun illuminating a purple hued sky.

Subaru's eyes lowered, and he wondered how to answer that question; whether or not he should be truthful or evasive.

"…Not too badly, I suppose. Other then being tired, I don't feel sick… Hm." His lips itched with a cryptic smile. "I guess I—I'm afraid." Green eyes darted back to Seishirou's bed again; Subaru's face still lowered, night black bangs hanging in front of his face. "I don't know if… if Seishirou-san's going to be alright-" He stopped himself with a half-angry, half-annoyed scoff. "Well, of course he's not, but I mean – You know – when he wakes up – I don't know if he'll be himself." His words were coming out nervously and unorganized, and he clenched hands beneath the bed sheets so Kamui wouldn't see them trembling. He didn't dare himself to look up, uneager to see the teenager's concerned expression.

"It's alright to be afraid." Kamui whispered.

"No, it's not." Subaru countered, frustration hidden underneath the benevolence of his voice. He lifted his head back, and then leant against the wall behind him, staring aside, his blind eye keeping Kamui out of view. The brightness of the hospital lights on his vision was beginning to make his brain feel as if it were been squeezed within his skull. He licked his dry, chapped lips, and then bit his lower lip. "It's not right for me to be afraid. The spell is over. What's done is done. The important thing right now is - I don't know how Seishirou's going to react when he wakes up – and I need to prepare for the worst. I can't be weak. I'm sick of being weak…"

He heard Kamui sigh in exasperation. He'd left the boy no room for argument, or even comment, and an uneasy silence ensued after his tiny sermon. Abruptly then he felt pressure on his lap – he jolted upright – to see that Kamui was lying down over his body, the teenager's face resting against his right thigh, eyes closed in perfect peace and a small, pleased grin on his face.

He wasn't sure how to react.

"You need to take lessons from Sorata," Kamui's grin enlarged a little, "about optimism." Kamui squirmed, his face disconcerting in discomfort, eyes half-way opening. "You're not comfortable at all, you know. You're too bony."

Subaru paused, then lifted his hand – minding the IV drip as he did – and rested it on Kamui's head, and ran his fingers through the boy's hair. It was nice that Kamui didn't mind their constant closeness – actually, it was quite wonderful. Subaru had forgotten how warm and encompassing the human body was; and being with Kamui reawakened all his dulled senses. Life hadn't given him much in the past nine years, yet he was extraordinarily grateful for Kamui's newfound presence. However, he was still wary of friendship, despite himself – it was a gut reaction from being broken once so horribly – which kept him from becoming too caring with the young Seal.

It was also very possible Kamui could die. Subaru's heart sank to the pit of his stomach with the thought, something in his mind chilled horribly, and his fingers halted. He inhaled shakily, after the momentum of the pause, and then began to move his fingers again, while Kamui looked up at him worriedly, but remained silent.

Subaru glanced at Kamui's watch every so often, though he was in no hurry. Fifteen minutes in and Kamui was beginning to feel heavier against his leg as the teenager lost consciousness; falling in and out of sleep. Subaru remained in silence, his musings in a conflict again. He stared at Seishirou's unconscious body with a longing gaze, though did not will himself to move with Kamui falling asleep against him. His eyes softened when he sensed Kamui's magical aura become completely lax; the seal's breathing low and even, inhaling and exhaling at a tranquil rhythm, more soothing then the ocean's tide. He stroked Kamui's cheekbone with his thumb, and sinuously moved a few strands of the auburn hair behind the boy's ear, admiring the way the locks easily slid and shifted through his pale digits. Subaru's own motions were lazy and slow with care, grace, though they were also simply due to the current drainage of energy within him.

…Kamui, you really are too beautiful. His skin was prettier then porcelain, prettier then European wedding dresses, prettier then the moon and the first snowfall of winter and prettier then white hued pearls. I wonder if you even have an ounce of understanding how wonderful of a person you are…

It really is a shame…

Subaru sighed, his hand wavering away from Kamui's face, and inclined his head towards Seishirou again.

Seishirou-san…

The beauty of a cherry blossom never diminished. Seishirou had been around cherry blossoms all his life, his childhood – they were on his body, in his mind, engraved in his soul, and they were no less beautiful no matter how many times he saw them. It was Nature's perfection; one of Nature's only perfections, for the world was not beautiful to him with or without people; Subaru-kun and cherry blossoms were the only exceptions, the only flowers in the fires, the only treasures remaining in a mountain of broken glass and rotting garbage. Seishirou would have considered his mother another exception, but she was long dead now… He gazed thoughtfully while standing back to look into the Sakura tree's looming branches, his eyes glazed by petals and blood. His throat constricted, and his lip curled, revealing a white smile that had no happiness.

He did not wonder where he was, or why he was here – it didn't matter. He could feel the raw power and energy of the Sakura. It bled with power. He could clearly feel the thread of it inside his mind, looped around his brain and in his vision, trending down his neck to each of his fingers, and then back down to the soles of his shoes and to each of his feet and every individual toe, like a thin yet tight lace around his body.

There was nothing in the maboroshi that was similar to reality. There were no people, and there was no earth. You could not hear the sound of voices nor the cry of a flock of birds. The only voice was that of the tree's: and it whispered hungrily as its branches ruffled, the sigh of a lonely, pretty ghost. It was easy to lose the last of your sanity in this place, in the quietness, in the loose, careless grip of death; but Seishirou knew the maboroshi as well as he knew himself. He was the maboroshi. He'd created it, and he controlled every vast inch of it. The tree was his beacon in the blackness, a light drawing all attention towards itself; the only sun in a black universe.

Seishirou frowned. Something was strange.

The tree – and Seishirou could feel it in his skull, behind his eyes, buried profoundly in his mind – was restless - Restless, and oddly, angry.

The tree did not speak in words, but Seishirou could feel its motions within his own body, writhing and whispering little musings inside his head. Normally it was unobtrusive, lingering in the background, hardly perceptible in the shadows and noiseless. His amber eyes narrowed as he approached the tree's center, its bark – and the chaos within his mind grew, to the point where he had to snap his eyes shut as a wave of abrupt dizziness made the maboroshi revolve in a maddening whirl that nearly shoved him onto his knees. A drum roll pounded inside his ears, the prelude of an extreme migraine.

He managed to regain control of himself. He swayed on his feet for another moment, before straightening his back and staring up into the branches. He didn't have the human ability to feel the mixture of nervousness and worry that becomes confusion, so instead he was only mildly uncertain why that had just happened. His first thought was that the tree was too hungry – but the tree never lashed out at him like that, certainly not deliberately, even when it was hungry.

But perhaps it hadn't been deliberate. Seishirou closed his eyes and re-relaxed himself, feeling the spiritual meditation glide down his body and cleanse him before he tightened the bond delved within his brain. The bond didn't strengthen – it simply became more prominent within his senses, and he knew it became more prominent with the tree's senses as he did this. That should do it.

He reopened his eyes, and approached the tree again.

The leaves and flowers writhed on their branches, and petals twirled as they came down to the black earth, kissing its ashen hue. It was a sight to behold. Seishirou watched the scenery with reclusion in his gaze, and then focused back on the tree again. He raised his hand – contemplating – and pressed the palm of it to the bark ---

Instantly burning pain shot through his skin and blasted its way up his arm until it came crashing into his chest and burst apart in a boiling explosion. His arm went numb like it had been lit ablaze, and his vision blackened before he had time to think as he was thrown backward and then skidded against the ground. Seishirou lay there, trembling. His hand twitched in agony, and his palm bled hot wine. His breathing came out in rough, ragged gasps; his brain having trouble comprehending what had just occurred as the drum roll pounded. His. Skull. He shut his eyes tightly and it did nothing to ease the pain. He felt like his skull was cracking and his nervous system was shot from the sudden shock of so much pain at once. His head was filling with something burning, something burning and horrible and painful like fly acid and it was eating his brain away. The pain in his arm was dull in comparison to the pain flooding behind his eyelids. If Seishirou was panting he did not hear it. He rolled over on the earth and slammed his head against the ground, as if trying to destroy his current pain with a lesser one. It did nothing. Seishirou swallowed a moan even though he was beyond intellectual capacity. It was difficult to breathe.

Chapter two – End

A/N: edited because it bothered me Thank you review peeps for the kind words given to me last sub-chapter. I am glad that people are enjoying this. ♪