Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei

Shout-outs: I don't know why, but I'm getting more and more petrified of reading my reviews. I think it's because I invest so much into this that the fear of getting a negative reaction is strong. There's also the fact that I'm constantly doubting the quality of my work, since I'm extremely busy and don't have all my energy to put into it. I really must learn some Buddhist detachment techniques.

Aacire: I glad you think "Kaneko" suits her very well. Ah, the fun of imaging TatWat's kids…those'll be some screwed up children.

As for what happened with Miya, you'll find out this chapter!

Masami-chan: Yep, she totally deserves it. She's gotten herself turned into a child trying to make it happen! (See volume 6)

If you google "flower symbolism" you'll find a lot. Also, there are plenty of fics out there utilizing flower symbolism. Check them out!

Amethyst-eyed Koneko: Yeah, if you flamed me I'd probably cry. Just a little. It's probably because I know you are the most invested fan I have, so I'd know I'd let you down big time. (Puts self-esteem problems back on the shelf where they belong. Luna can't afford to have them out, since it's callback audition week and she's up for a big role)

I didn't even think about Kaneko and Koneko! I picked out Kaneko long ago. Probably before I even started writing Second Death. And yes, Tatsumi would make an awesome dad, if he doesn't go overboard on the discipline. Kaneko would temper him out, though.

Of course Kushinada's appearance is foreshadowing. It's the lynchpin of the third installment. I learned my lesson in Second Death; there's nothing (or not much) in Eden that isn't relevant for the future.

Oh, wow, I didn't even think about how Yoshiro would look freakishly similar to Hijiri. They would be so adorable together. (Glomps them) I'm so glad Yoshiro did not become a dead plotline. I mentioned before that Rui was already supposed to be pregnant in Second Death but I wrote it out. I thank my muses that I wrote him back in. (I also seriously considered leaving Yoshiro in Rui and Nagare's hands—before I thought of the third plot—so good thing I changed my mind!)

This story starts six years after the end of Eden, so we skip all of the infant years, but here's what I think. Raising the baby could either put more stress on them, or take their minds off their problems. Fortunately, I picked the latter way.

By the way, aside of T/H and the two W/Ts, there's another couple who wind up having a baby. I'll let you guess; you'll find out who it is next chapter.

I love you too, George!

Kiko812: Put this one on your LJ Fave's List? Please? (Puppy eyes)

Demonyo: Here you go!

AnimeAngelRin: Hmm…I wasn't expecting laughter! But since it's a good reaction, I'm grateful for it. Enjoy the next storyline!

laustic: Isn't it, though?

Chrono21: You might want to get your Muse to bed so she can work off the hangover. Keep your ninjas back! Here's the next story all laid out for you!

Side Note #1: Shizonai is a rendering of Sydonai, which is a rendering of Asmodai, a demon. I needed to make his name more Japanese.

Side Note #2: An oiran is the top prostitute in a brothel.


What Nightmares May Come


"Kushinada-san, where are you going?"

"To hang up the laundry!" Kushinada called back brightly, a basket of wet clothes in her hands.

"It's almost nine at night, Kushinada-san," Kira said flatly.

"I know, but I forgot to do this earlier," she said, having the grace to look embarrassed.

"What am I going to do with you?" Kira admonished with affection exaggeration.

"I dunno," Kushinada said, and Kira could not make out if she was joking or serious. "But the laundry has to get done!"

"That it does," Kira said, holding the door open for her charge. Kushinada swept out ungracefully with a blithe statement of gratitude before turning to humming a new song she had heard on the radio and not memorized the entire tune to.

She had set the laundry basket down and was reaching for the clips when a rustle in the bushes caught her attention.

"Who's there?" she yelped, jumping backwards like an agitated cat. "Who are you?"

"Kushinada…-sama."

"Who's there?" Kushinada demanded shrilly.

"Kushinada-sama."

A deformed, furry, winged brown creature tumbled out of the bushes, breathing heavily. He glanced on her for a fleeting moment and then dropped to his knees before her.

"I finally found you…Kushinada-sama."

"What are you?" Kushinada asked, her voice reaching hysteria.

The creature hesitated, deliberating with himself, and then lurched forward, sinking his teeth into Kushinada's hand.

She made to scream but something cut her off. Familiarity was pulsing through her skin as he more fervently sucked of her blood, the saliva from his teeth entering her veins.

"Shizonai," she said, and he looked up at her, grinning.

"My lady."

"Where have you been these past six years?"

"Anywhere we can survive and searching for you," Shizonai replied bitterly. "There are only a handful of us left. Only the most powerful survived the destruction, and the weakest among those have all died. Forgive me my impertinence for feasting off of you, but I would have died had I not taken some of your energy."

"Don't grovel; I forgive you," Kushinada said plainly. "What is it you wish of me? I have a comfortable life here." A thought struck her. "Do you intend to try and take over the Five Realms again?"

"No! No, definitely not," Shizonai said. "There are barely twenty of us left, and we'd have Heaven swooping down on us in a second if they knew we were planning that again."

"Then what is it you want?"

"Revenge. Don't you? On those people who killed your husband, Izanami, the rest of the royal family?"

"Revenge…that was a forte of my husband," Kushinada said, a ball forming in her throat as she thought of him. "I'm afraid it doesn't suit me quite as well."

"Honor him, Kushinada-sama!" Shizonai urged. "He would have gotten revenge had you been murdered."

"I…" Kushinada looked back uncertainly at Kokakuro. "I work here…"

"You, the Queen of hell, working in a brothel?" Shizonai's eyes lit up even as he feigned indignation.

"Keep your wits, you lecher!" Kushinada said huffily. "I'm a maid."

"Working as a maid and not the oiran?"

"What did I just say?" she demanded, and he bowed his head deeply in apology.

"Forgive me, my Lady," he said. "But…Susano-sama would want revenge."

"On who, exactly?"

"On those responsible for his death. He would have slaughtered them and their families, too, just like they murdered him and Izanami-sama and Kazutaka-sama."

"I…" Kushinada hesitated, stepping back. "I have a good life here. I'm not among the damned…I needn't destroy anything…" She shut her eyes tightly. When she reopened them, they were full of remorse. "Shizonai, no."

"Traitor!" Shizonai yelled, jumping to his feet, his eyes red with anger.

"If that's what I am, so be it," Kushinada said pacifically. "I won't go back to that life. I'm no longer your lady. Please…get yourself a normal life in Chijou and forget about revenge. This is my last order as your queen. I'm sorry."

She turned away, biting her lower lip.

"You…you treacherous whore! I'll get you back the way you were!"

"Shizonai!"

Kira heard a terrified scream from outside.

She dropped the plate she had been holding and sprinted for the door. As she pulled it open a gust of wind nearly pushed her off her feet but she shoved her way through it.

"Kushinada!"

For an instant Kira thought she saw two of Kushinada standing in the yard. In the next instant the double-vision was over, and there was nothing there but a dropped laundry basket and a semi-conscious young woman lying on the ground.

"Kushinada!" Kira was kneeling at her side in an instant, shaking her shoulders. Kushinada's blank eyes refilled with life.

"Kira-sama."

"What the hell happened here?" Kira demanded.

"I…" Kushinada blinked confusedly. The world was spinning around her and her chest felt light. "Kira-sama, I think my soul's been split."

"What?"


"Heh…first stop, Kurosaki house. Isn't that right, Kushinada-sama?"

"If you think it best," Kushinada replied flatly.

"Of course I do." Shizonai laughed, incapable of knowing the irony of his thoughts. "After all, in revenge, one should always go for the family first. It's the throat of the body you're getting vengeance on."

"As they say, go for the jugular."


"Hisoka-niisan?"

"Your brother's awake," Tsuzuki whispered.

"Nng," was Hisoka's grunted reply. "Before ten AM he's your brother."

"Hisoka-niisan." Yoshiro's voice was growing insistent as he tugged on his brothers' sheets. "Hisoka-niisan!" A tearful hiccup escaped with the last syllable.

"What's the matter, Yoshiro?" Hisoka asked, rolling over, the sound of tears rousing him.

"I had an ax'dent," Yoshrio said in a small voice.

"Oh great," Hisoka muttered softly, now fully awake. He was finally catching the scent of urine emanating off Yoshiro's trembling little body. "All right, let's get you cleaned off." He slid out of bed and took his younger brother's hand as Tsuzuki sat up. "Tsuzuki, can you put his clothes and sheets through the washer?"

"Yeah, of course," Tsuzuki said, pulling back the covers and getting out of bed, exiting with the pair of siblings though entering Yoshiro's room instead of the bathroom.

"You haven't wet the bed in a long time," Hisoka said, gingerly peeling the soiled bedclothes off his brother. "Not since you were still in diapers."

"I' sorry," Yoshiro whimpered, tears starting in his eyes.

"I'm not mad at you," Hisoka reassured, lifting Yoshiro by the armpits and placing him in the bathtub. He reached over to start the water running.

"Cold," Yoshiro complained, the water reaching his feet.

"Give the water a chance to warm up," Hisoka said. "You're so impatient."

"He learned it from you," Tsuzuki said, entering the bathroom only to rapidly ferret away the dirtied fabrics before reprisal.

"I' sorry I' 'mpatient," Yoshiro apologized ashamedly.

"You got that from Tsuzuki," Hisoka muttered to himself. "I'm not angry with you, otouto. It's just a bit early and Hisoka-niisan is cranky, okay?"

"Okay."

"So what happened?" Hisoka asked, reaching for a bar of soap. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Yoshiro nodded.

"What about? Can you tell me?"

"This man," Yoshiro said as Hisoka began to rub the bar on his body, "he lookeded like you, and this old man did something bad to him and he started bleededing, and this scary lady laughed and…" He hiccupped again. "It was awful."

"Okay, okay, you don't have to tell me about it anymore," Hisoka said, continuing to clean off his brother.

"I was scared," Yoshiro insisted. "He lookeded like you."

"It was just a nightmare," Hisoka said, and suddenly it struck him that this might have been the first time he had comforted someone else with that quip that was more often than not a lie. "Okay…hold your nose."

Yoshiro's fingers pinched his nose shut.

"Deep breath."

Yoshiro's cheeks puffed out.

"Three…two…one."

Yoshiro slid down into the water and shook himself vigorously to rinse off all the soap. He emerged with a dramatic gasp.

"Feel better?" Hisoka asked, wiping the stray bubbles off his brother with a towel.

"Mm-hmm," Yoshiro said, nodding emphatically.

"Good." Hisoka wrapped a towel around his brother's above-water body and pulled him out of the tub, swathing the rest of it around his legs as they surfaced.

"What was the problem?" Tsuzuki asked, appearing in the doorway.

"He had a nightmare," Hisoka explained, as Tsuzuki picked up a smaller towel and began drying Yoshiro's hair with it. "I'll tell you about it later."

"Tsuzu-nii, it was really awful," Yoshiro said, huddling himself into a tighter ball inside the towel.

"Really? That bad?" Tsuzuki asked rhetorically. Yoshiro nodded miserably. "Then how about this: you wanna sleep with us tonight? Would that make you feel less awful?"

"Yeah," Yoshiro said. "That'd be gooder."

"Better," Hisoka corrected automatically.

"That too," Tsuzuki interrupted, smiling, taking Yoshiro from Hisoka's arms. "So let's get you into some nightclothes and into bed, okay?"

"Okay," Yoshiro replied sleepily, settling his head against Tsuzuki's collarbone.

"What was his nightmare about?" Tsuzuki asked, exiting the bathroom.

Hisoka glanced at his half-asleep brother. "I think it was about my father."

"Are you serious?" Tsuzuki whispered back, entering Yoshiro's room and setting the body down on his mattress.

"He said there was a man who looked like me," Hisoka replied, going to the closet to pull out a yukata. "And an old man who killed him. That sounds like my father and uncle."

"Did I 've a dream about my papa?" Yoshiro asked tiredly.

"Maybe," Hisoka answered, standing Yoshiro up and pulling the robe around him. "But we don't know why, because you haven't seen him since you were a newborn."

"That's a-'cause he's a bad man, right, Hisoka-niisan?"

"Exactly," Hisoka said, pulling Yoshiro into his arms and carrying him to his and Tsuzuki's bedroom. He sat down on the bed and deposited Yoshiro onto the middle of the mattress, moving to the right of him as Tsuzuki took the left.

"Now, you go to sleep, and no more nightmares, okay?" Hisoka said, gently pushing Yoshiro underneath the blanket.

"Mm-kay," Yoshiro said, shutting his eyes and nestling his head into the pillow. "'Night-night."

"Good night," Hisoka replied, placing a small kiss on his brother's temple.

"So, you really think it was about your father?" Tsuzuki asked, resting his hand on Yoshiro's silky cheek.

"If it means anything at all, it can't be about anything else; no one here looks like me," Hisoka said. "And the old guy stabbing him sounds pretty much like my family's internal unrest." He frowned. "There are two things that bug me."

"What's that?" Tsuzuki asked, settling underneath the blanket and pulling Yoshiro closer to him.

"First off is that he's even dreaming about them at all."

"You think he might have some kind of empathic ability?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. With all those spirits floating around that house, he might have picked something up when he was born. Hell, maybe even when she was still pregnant with him."

Tsuzuki stroked Yoshiro's hair and kissed his forehead. "You think he'll have your power when he gets older?"

"If he does, at least he'll get treated better than I was."

"Mm," Tsuzuki acknowledged. "What's the other thing?"

"He said there was a woman there, too; she was laughing. That doesn't sound like my mother. They're in everything together."

"Did he say what she looked like?"

Hisoka shook his head. "It scared him too badly. He probably won't remember, anyway."

"I have a feeling this isn't going to play out well, if it's not just a random dream."

"Of course it's not just a dream, and of course it's going to go badly," Hisoka said, sliding underneath the bed covers and wrapping his arm around the sleeping Yoshiro's waist.

"We can't really do anything about it right now, though, can we?" Tsuzuki asked.

"No," Hisoka replied, "and I'm too damn tired to figure it out just now."

"Shh, language," Tsuzuki admonished teasingly, tapping the sleeping Yoshiro. "There's a child present."

"Shut up," Hisoka said, exasperated and affectionate. Tiredness was overcoming him.

"Yes sir," Tsuzuki said with a laugh in his voice, craning over Yoshiro's head to kiss Hisoka. "Love you."

"Love you too," Hisoka answered, the hand on Yoshiro reaching over to take Tsuzuki's, so his arm covered his brother like a protective railing.


"What the hell…"

Nagare stood up from where he had managed to land, cat-like, on his feet. He stood amid a grove of sakura trees, their leaves gleaming in the moonlight.

He placed his hand on his stomach. The gaping hole that Iwao had twisted into his intestines with a knife was gone; fully healed and almost non-existent but for the ripped, bloodstains on the cloth.

"Welcome," a voice said in his ear, and Nagare turned around to come face-to-face with a silver mask a floating pair of gloved hands. He stumbled backwards in shock.

"Who the hell are you?" Nagare demanded.

"My name is the Count," the aristocrat replied, eyeing Nagare. "I wasn't expecting you. I wonder what he'll do when he knows you're here…"

"Where am I?"

"In Meifu, the Realm of Judgment," the Count answered. "You have died and not passed on. Some pressing regret that you have keeps you from going straight to Enma's courtroom."

"Am I a Shinigami?" Nagare said, a thought germinating in his head.

"Yes. Not employed by Juohcho, of course, but a Shinigami nonetheless."

"I am Kurosaki Hisoka's father," Nagare said.

"Yes, I know," the Count said, stepping back and folding his hands.

"Has he moved on?"

"No, I'm afraid Yoshiro-kun keeps him and Tsuzuki quite busy."

"Yoshiro?" Nagare said questioningly. "Who's Yoshiro?"

The Count cocked an eyebrow. "You don't know? How charming."

"Don't screw with me, freakshow."

"Where are your manners?" the Count said indignantly. "The five-year-old has more decorum than you. Well, I sha'n't tell you if your attitude is that poor."

"Is it my other son?"

"My, aren't we clever," the Count said flatly.

"That little wretch…she said he died and they took him away before we saw him!"

"Smart girl," the Count said drolly. "She must be an excellent actress. Or you must be an exceptional fool, either/or."

"Where are they?"

"You don't expect me to tell you, the man that dear little boy had to be rescued from, do you?" the Count said, looking at Nagare as if he were a common idiot. "You'll just have to find them on your own, Nagare-kun." He smiled coyly. "I bid you adieu."

"Wha—"

The Count had gone, leaving him in the grassy meadow alone.

"Find them on my own, huh?" Nagare repeated. He smirked. "I'll do just that."