I've gotten used to writing Itachi from Naruto. Especially in this kind of style. Therefore, Itachi probably bled into Seimei's character, especially since it's the same kind of older brother x little brother kind of thing. ; I apologize in advance. A great deal of information was dug up from the raburesu community on Seimei's characterization, because the guy's not really…alive. Supposedly. And Seimei ended up coming off kind of sadistic.

Also: Written before episode twelve.


Scripture
Pairing: Aoyagi Seimei x Aoyagi Ritsuka, minor Aoyagi Seimei x Soubi, implied Soubi x Aoyagi Ritsuka
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Incest, disturbing content, OOCness, more imagery and symbolism
Summary: Don't touch, don't hurt, don't break. The only thing you can do is look—but it would be so easy to just…

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
--John 1:1, NIV

The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.
--John 1:5, NIV

Want…take…have. Yeah, I think I'm getting it.
--Buffy Summers, Buffy: The Vampire Slayer

The first word is ice.

Nobody knows me like you do. I love nobody like I do you.

The first time Seimei and Soubi meet, Seimei is cold inside, like winter setting in and killing the world. He nods and smiles at Soubi but doesn't bother to disguise the fact that it's all so very fake, and he makes his feelings clear: Soubi is just a tool. He can be his own person on his own time, but this is Seimei's time and he has a family—a younger brother, he almost thinks, a memory of a smile as bright as sunlight flitting through his head—to return to. There is no room for emotion, not if it will hinder them. Soubi, perfect Fighter that he is, understands immediately, and serves to the best of his ability. He asks for nothing though his eyes beg for acknowledgement Seimei's forgotten how to give. (he is not ritsuka he will never be ritsuka…no one will be as importantpreciousbeautiful as ritsuka)

Some part of Seimei pities Soubi, but in the end Soubi cannot compare to family. That small, pitying part is what makes him flinch when Ritsuka greets him the next morning, smiling and bright and happy, so young and small and delicate. He does not touch Ritsuka then, his skin frozen and blood sluggish.

Winter gives way to spring. Seimei lays one hand on the junction between shoulder and throat of Ritsuka's neck, smiling for the camera. His hand is warm as his smile, and he thinks he's never felt so alive.

The second word is pain.

If I hurt you, would I bleed as well?

Ritsuka is young still. He's popular and friendly and outgoing, a smile ever-present on his small face. Seimei can trace the path of his smile at night with his eyes closed, fantasizes about being Ritsuka's world (let me become the only one who matters, the only one you need).

Soubi's signature is a swarm of butterflies. The other day Ritsuka chased them in the park, almost caught one before it escaped. Seimei had said that if he touched them they'd never fly again and Ritsuka stopped—

and didn't it feel so GOOD knowing that here was something beautiful and precious and weak and here you were able to crush it in one hand without a second thought make it yoursapartofyou for forever if you wanted and

didn't you just LOVE that feeling?

Absentmindedly, Seimei closes his hand around a butterfly in the air. He holds it there in the cage of his palm, its wings stiff against his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Soubi standing frozen, the other Fighter-Sacrifice pair collapsed in the snow. Weak, he thinks for a moment, but there is no arcane rush of pleasure at the thought. Soubi watches his hand with a nervous look in his eyes, unmoving.

Seimei's hand opens. The butterfly struggles away, unable to fly. It falls into the snow and does not move again, the snowflakes building an icy little prison around it. Soubi has not yet looked up from the butterfly's grave.

Seimei smiles at him. "Good job," he says, and Soubi's eyes widen in surprise and overwhelming joy.

here is a strong beautiful thing do you want him to hurt?

"I'm going home," he announces. "See you."

Soubi's gaze on his back is a light, feathery thing, hardly worth noticing.

The snow crunches beneath his footsteps like a thousand butterfly wings breaking.

The third word is love.

My real name is Beloved.

"Beloved?" Ritsuka says.

"My true name," Seimei agrees. He crouches before Ritsuka, cupping his face gently. Ritsuka flinches slightly at his touch. He pretends it doesn't hurt him; outside it's snowing and his fingers are cold, clammy. It's understandable.

"Cool," Ritsuka says, and gives him a small smile.

Their noses nearly touch. Their breath mingles together, warm air blowing across their cheeks.

Neither of them moves.

The fourth word is death.

This way, you'll remember me.

"Live for him," Seimei hisses to Soubi, the first real emotion Soubi has ever seen plastering across his features. "His name is Aoyagi Ritsuka." His fingers are hot, burning, little flames licking his skin. Soubi stands before the infernos of hell and stares straight into Seimei's eyes, pupils dilated and breathe coming out in short, sharp gasps, like he can't breathe. His heart squeezes painfully, twisting and turning, writhing as if on fire as well.

"He is my brother. I order you to protect him.

"From now on, you are his."

Slowly, Soubi's heart begins to ice over, cooling the flames into nothing.

Aoyagi Ritsuka, he thinks.