A/N: Im a little hesitant to post this, as I've only read one volume of this manga, but Ashimaru's birthday was last Friday and I promised her a fanfiction, dammit! So here's my lame clichéd attempt at Black Sun Silver Moon, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own it, sorry.

Every morning, Shikimi Farkash trudged out of bed and walked the short distance to his bathroom to look in the mirror.

And every morning, Shikimi hated what he saw.

Silver hair, cascading down along his jaw line and the nape of his neck, paired with piercing silver eyes slightly hidden beneath glasses.

Shikimi hated it.

No matter how much he appeared to be aloof and uncaring, waking up in the morning and staring in that god damned mirror was a reminder of what he was…and what was to come.

At night, and in his books, he could forget, if only for a moment, the inevitable. But the whispers of the townspeople, the treatment he got…and his reflection...abruptly brought him back to the cold truth of reality.

And of course…there was Taki…

The church servant had somehow wormed his way into his heart in such a short amount of time. He wanted to know him more, be near him more, understand his habits and his thought patterns.

Taki made Shikimi feel alive again.

And that's precisely why he wanted him by his side so often. Taki's presence acted as a sort of escape from what Shikimi faced daily by what was inside of him. By being near the younger man, he could be himself again, smile fully, and really, just be happy.

---

Taki walked into Shikimi's bedroom, a bucket full of cleaning supplies clutched tightly in both of his hands.

"Sensei, I need to clean your bathroom today," he said, dropping the bucket inside the bedroom and shaking out his arms.

Shikimi's face shot up from over the sink, still dripping with droplets of water, startled by the invasion of the younger man.

"You—you surprised me," he said, reaching for a towel on the vanity and wiping off his face. "Idiot, you can at least knock."

"Well, excuse me for trying to help!"

Shikimi sighed. "You're way of helping isn't very nice, is it? Startling me so early in the morning…"

Taki paused a moment, his childish frustration leaving him. Sensei didn't seem like himself; his sarcastic attitude was hiding something.

He walked into the doorway of the bathroom, leaning on the doorpost. "Is something wrong, sensei?" He asked, tentatively.

Shikimi paused in the rigorous drying of his face and put the towel down. "I'm fine, just a little tried, is all." He smiled, but Taki had known Shikimi long enough to know that this one was fake. "I think I may even go back to bed…"

The lack of honesty Shikimi was giving him frustrated Taki. He grabbed the priests arm as he walked past, stopping him from getting to the bed that seemed to be calling him.

"Don't lie to me, Okay? I just…" Taki's face pinked, realizing the words that just escaped his mouth. "…want to help..." he finished.

Shikimi sighed. "I'm just tired, is all. I'm not lying."

Taki released his arm and he trudged onwards to the bed, laying down and curling into the sheets. He let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes, hoping beyond all hope that the church servant would just go into the bathroom and clean already.

But of course this was Taki, so his stubbornness did not allow such an easy exit for Shikimi.

So, Instead of doing what he was told, he walked to the side of the bed and peered down on the older man, obviously annoyed. However, worry poked uncomfortably at his chest. He'd never seen the priest like this before, so obviously…troubled. It bothered Taki.

He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, resting his head on the wall behind him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shikimi asked, his voice muffled by being buried underneath layers of blankets.

"Sitting here," Taki answered. "At least until you tell me what's wrong."

Shikimi snuggled deeper into his cocoon of blankets. "Well, if you want to stay so badly than you're more than welcome to it, because I'm not going to say something's wrong when it isn't."

Taki had to smile a little at the priest's stubbornness. He sighed and made himself comfortable, ready to adhere to the unspoken request. "I'll just have to stay then, I suppose."

Shikimi chuckled a little at that, letting his heavy eyes droop closed. He felt Taki's hand, strong and warm, card softly through his silver locks. He stiffened a little at this, then relaxed, feeling a bit foolish. Taki didn't even seem to notice that he was touching the very evidence of his sin. Taki, this dimwitted church servant, somehow made Shikimi's stress and melancholy seem childish and immature. Hell, maybe Shikimi was the dimwitted one here.

He leaned into the small touch, sincerely grateful for it. Somehow, Taki always knew how to make everything seem okay again. It didn't matter that he was a demon or was going to have to die, as long as Taki was by his side.

Shikimi fell into a restful sleep, Taki's hand running through his choppy silver hair.

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