By: Ladymage Samiko

Fuuma stalked around the Dragons of Earth's underground lair. He was in an incredibly bad mood. Satsuki had set her damned computer for an early alarm, which had woken everyone up at four in the morning and he had been unable to go back to sleep. What's more, he had lost his Jamapi plushie and finding Kanoe in his bed instead had not made him any happier. He preferred Jamapi; it was rounder, cuter, and—when it was a demon—meaner than Kanoe. Fu-fuu had gotten out of bed grumbling and stalked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, taking out several walls and miscellaneous equipment on the way. He could conceivably apologized to Yuuto for interrupted his little tete-a-tete, but then, he was Kamui. He wasn't going to apologize for anything.

Given that he had never made tea before, Black Fuuma did creditably, but it is better to draw a curtain over those events (and the kitchen, the decor of which now matched his mood). Feeling a little better, the other Kamui had emerged into the gorgeous pre-dawn light. Ahh, nice and bleak. Lovely. He still had a few hours to burn before destroying humanity, so he decided to fill those oh-so-empty hours with one of his favorite activities: torturing the original Kamui.

And so Kamui of the Second Part went to pay a visit to Kamui of the First Part.

It definitely did _not_ go as the evil being formerly known as Fuuma had planned. He had found Kamui not only awake, but waiting for him! Along with the rest of the stage cast for the musical of the Book of Revelations. Ordinarily, this wouldn't have bothered him—he could have taken all of them in five seconds—but something was immediately noticeable. That uneducated, uncultured excuse for a Dragon of Heaven was swinging a sword back and forth like a pendulum in front of him and singing:

"We've got your shinken! Nyah, na, na, Na na!"

The entire group sweatdropped as Arashi whacked him upside the head.

The Seventh Angel lifted an eyebrow as he stalked forward and calmly tore the sword from Sorata's hands. Then, for good measure, he, too, whacked Sora over the head, sending the boy hip deep into the floor of the house. He put on his glasses and, looking appropriately evil, stalked out of the room.

He met with a small problem.

The entire Heavenly Clan had put a kekkai around the house. While this, as usual, had no effect on him, it did have an unexpected consequence as regarded the Holy Sword.

He, one of the two most powerful beings on the face of this planet, couldn't take the damned thing _out_ of the kekkai.

So there he stood, shinken in hand, frowning first, then swearing as he tried to pull the sword through the open doorway.

"I never thought that _that_ was how it would work," mused Karen.

"Hey, when we do something, we do it _good_!" chimed Sorata, propping his elbows comfortably on the rug in front of his face.

Yuzuriha just started giggling at the sight of a nearly full grown man trying to pull a big ass sword through empty space and failing miserably. One by one, the Dragons looked at her, then at him, and started snickering themselves. Sora. Karen. Aoki. Arashi. Kamui. Even Hinoto, her blind eyes turned toward the scene, was muffling laughter with her sleeves.

And then the impossible happened.

Subaru, one of the most broody, depressed, angst-filled bishounen in existence, one who never cracked a smile, began to chuckle. The chuckle grew to a laugh. The laugh grew into a guffaw. And the rest of the world silenced as the eternally depressed onmyouji, thirteenth head of the famous Sumeragi clan, collapsed to the floor in hysterical laughter, tears slipping down his cheeks.

"That's—" he wheezed, "even...better...*chuckle*...than...the time...*whoop*...my...sister..."

The angel-winged Kamui decided it was time to end this wholesale humiliation. "Enough," he intoned, falling back on the dramatic power of mystical prophesy. "Since the foreordained battle is not yet meant to take place, I will leave the shinken in your—capable—hands, Kamui." He leered. "I will return for it at the proper time and it will come to me. For the present, I shall leave you." He may perhaps be forgiven for lapsing from mystical prophesy to canned script as he whirled to stalk away from the area. "I'll be back."

He wasn't sure, but Fuuma Kamui thought he heard another burst of laughter as he teleported back to HQ.

Needless to say, that wasn't what was supposed to happen.

Even more needless to say, the way it _did_ happen left him feeling pretty pissed off.

Not only had he failed to give Kamui another hickey, he hadn't even had the chance to draw blood.

So now Little Twin Star Kamui was blasting his way through the underground chambers looking for the one man who could just possibly cheer him up with another round of mass murder, some mutual smirking, and perhaps some ice cream from that chain that he had blown up last time.

"Seishirou! Where the hell are you, you one-eyed bastard?" Silence. Not even Beast who was _always_ filling the rooms with that constantly annoying low hum. With a gleam in his eyes, Smirking Evil ran towards the large space that housed Satsuki's accursed machine. Maybe Seishirou had killed it. It was just the thing that twisted assassin would do.

Nataku's "daddy" burst into the metal enclosed room to find two unexpected things.

One was the Beast, who was almost completely shut off, except for one screen that read:

"ta---su---ke---te------ku---da---sa---i" over and over again.

The second was not, as Famui had envisioned, Seishirou pinning Beast's cables to the walls and severing them one by one, his blind eye gleaming. Oh, Seishirou _was_ there, dressed in his usual black elegance, but he seemed to be . . . prancing?! . . . around the room, a furtive grin on his face, an ungodly noise coming from his throat. On one arm hung a large basket. The other hand was dipping into it at intervals and— scattering sakura petals?! Fuuma did a double take. Yes, that was Seishirou. Yes, the six foot man was tossing pale pink sakura petals all over the place. Yes, he was also leaping and skipping. Yes, he was definitely humming the Hana Yori Dango Opener off-key. And, if this Dragon of Earth was not mistaken, under the illusion, Seishirou was wearing a . . . pink. . . trenchcoat. Pink, Seishirou? Pink?!?

The teenager looked over the rims of his glasses, then took them off and looked at them. Well, there was a sakura petal stuck to them, which accounted for Seishirou wearing pink, but that still didn't explain why Seishirou was acting like a flower girl on crack. For two seconds, Fuuma had a vision of a chibi-Seishirou marching down the aisle, but he chased it from his mind with a vengeance. Obviously, waking up so early had made him delirious. If he hadn't been the one who hunts God's will, he would have thought he was getting a fever. But since he was, that idea was obviously ridiculous. Divine hunters didn't _get_ fevers. Anyway, it was time to get answers to those pressing questions.

"Seishirou!" he called, the man in question being on the far side of the room. When there was no response, Fuuma called again. Still, with something that was apparently glee, Seishirou continued to fling flower petals around the room. Several dozen landed extremely close to Beast, and the speed of the scrolling increased. After a few more shouts, Kafuuma stood right next to Seishirou and pulled off the blaring headphones that were apparently the problem.

"Oh, SEISHIROU!" mild-mannered Kamui screamed into the man's ear. Not turning a hair, the one-eyed assassin turned to eye his fearless leader with his good eye.

"Yes?" he drawled.

"What in the hell are you doing?"

Seishirou turned so that his bad eye eyed Fuuma. You could never read anything in that eye, so Seishirou felt safe. But still not quite sure how to answer the question.

Fuuma moved so that he was standing in front of him. Damn. "I said," he continued in a pleasant voice. "what in the hell are you doing?"

"Well..." Seishirou drew the word out farther than it had ever meant to be. So the day had come. The day when he would be drummed out of the Dragons of Earth, stripped of his title, dishonourably discharged with no final paycheck and no references. For some reason, the idea didn't sound quite as unappealing as it had. But still, who wants to give up a perfectly good, legitimate reason for killing people? Besides, being a veterinarian was his father's idea. He certainly didn't want to return to doctoring those mangy mutts. And anyway, what clinic would hire a man whose sideline was assassination, anarchy, and angst? He gave a mental sigh.

"Ican'tcreatemyownsakurasoIhavetolaythemoutinaplacebeforeIgettheresoIcanmakeareallycoolentranceandexit," he said really quickly.

Fuuma blinked.

Seishirou waited.

Fuuma blinked again.

This continued for the next couple of minutes.

"Kamui-san?" Seishirou ventured. "I--" He was stopped by the raised hand of his companion.

"Fine," Fuuma muttered. "Great. Wonderful! The first Kamui gets all of the good mystics on his side and what have I got? I mean, that little snot's got a fire witch in tight clothes, a wind-master who ought to be a bloody samurai, a girl with a kick-ass katana in her hand, a dreamgazer who sounds all mystic and prophetic, an onmyouji who's so depressed he has a five foot permanent cloud over his head, and a girl so darn cute she's got people from my side rooting for her!" He began pacing the floor, warming to his theme. "And what do I get? What, I ask you?" He began ticking people of on his fingers. "The world's sluttiest OL. A dreamgazer obsessed with people who are already dead. A chick who's so attached to her computer I'm surprised she even notices there are people to kill. A bloody clone who didn't even get a gender, attacks with a Ribbon of Death, and insists on calling me Fufu-papa. That blond what's-his-name who spends all his time trying to get into bed with one of the girls and doesn't even use his powers. A guy we can't even find, for crying out loud! He's wandering the streets of Tokyo, minding his own business when he's supposed to be here destroying humanity. And now I find my closest friend out of all these lame excuses for freaks and psychopaths can't even produce his own image flower! Ye gods! Whoever said I was Kamui's equal must have been insane! How in the hell am I supposed to destroy the world with this," he swept his arm out to indicate the growing crowd of Dragons, "as my backup? It's impossible! And what's more, I'm not even going to try. As of right now, I hereby relinquish my status as Kamui's twin star and Dragon of Earth. I am no longer an instrument of foreordination. You can damn well find someone else to kill off masses of people. I quit!"

He began to stalk out of the room, ignoring the cries of the majority of the Dragons of Earth as well as the pleas for Kamui-papa not to leave. Suddenly, he turned around, his eyes flashing (which shut everybody up) to focus on the slumped figure by the wall. "Well?" he asked Seishirou impatiently. "Are you coming or not? I want some ice cream." With a smug smirk, the Sakurazukamori straightened and stalked over to the younger man before whisking them both away in a dramatic whirlwind of sakura petals. The last thing they heard was the anguished cry of Satsuki as Beast slowly wheezed its last, systems clogged by the masses of tiny pink things. They snickered evilly and continued on their way.

After a quick stop to retrieve Fuuma's Jamapi plushie, the pair did, in fact, go out for ice cream. There were several deaths. After some discussion, Seishirou and Fuuma moved into an apartment together on the outskirts of Tokyo, where they advertised themselves as custom florists for special occasions, Seishirou being able to produce, if not sakura, abundant amounts of lilies, roses, daisies, and orchids on command, along with other greenery. They made the majority of their money, however, as assassins for hire after killing off their major competition, a group of four punks who seemed to be based in a fifth dimension. What the pair does in their off hours is a matter for speculation.

After the collapse of Beast, Satsuki apparently went insane, trying to find an electrical cord so she could plug Yuuto into the wall. Yuuto was eventually forced to tie her up with one of his whips and escaped to the wilds of Africa where things like computers and extension cords don't exist. Kanoe talked to her sister in one of their dreams, realized that they loved each other after all and moved them both into an apartment in Shinjuku. Hinoto works in a Buddhist temple while Kanoe continues her job as a secretary. They both keep up active correspondence with Kakyou, who, through the socialization, is becoming a little more upbeat. However, he won't regret the day he dies.

Nataku, after wandering around in a daze, eventually found its original mother and, after several years of therapy, is living with her happily.

Kusanagi still wanders around doing nothing in particular, but has a tendency to beat up people who abuse animals. He sees Yuzuriha now and again, but nothing serious has developed. Or at least, that's what they say.

The Dragons of Heaven all keep in touch, but have returned, somewhat puzzled, to their regularly scheduled lives. Subaru's outburst apparently put him in tune with his sister's spirit and he is consequently much happier now that he can chat with her every so often. He and Kamui live in adjacent dorm rooms on CLAMP Campus. They often go on picnics with Hokuto and Kotori, though the ghosts are working on getting them to see other girls. Kotori confided she would be happy even if Kamui decided to see other guys. His obsession with her, she said, though flattering, feels almost like necrophilia.

Arashi and Sora (once he was extracted from the floor) were given dorm rooms on opposite side of the campus, having been excused from religious duties now that the world is no longer going to end. Their relationship is progressing nicely. Arashi only beats him up once a week now.

And the rest of the world continues in the same state of ignorance and oblivion it was in when the story began.

The End?