Aftermath
By Karasu Yurei and Kouri Arashi
Part Two
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Subaru moaned and managed to open his eyes. His head hurt. Come to think of it, everything hurt. A lot. The room was blurry before him. He closed his eyes again and tried to remember what had happened.
One second he’d been standing there, mad as hell but still sure that Seishirou was going to kill him. The next, Seishirou had suddenly fallen down for what looked like no reason. Against his better judgment, he’d gone over to see if the other man was all right.
That was the last thing he remembered.
Where am I? He forced his eyes open again and suddenly felt a lot more awake. Oh my God.
He tried to sit up and see if he could escape, but his ribs throbbed and his head pounded. He found himself slumping backwards.
Why am I here . . .?
His eyes moved absently along the walls. It had been a long time since he’d seen the inside of Seishirou’s apartment. It hadn’t changed much. He could vividly remember sitting on the sofa he was now lying on, feeling less than well.
What the hell is going on?
The door to Seishirou’s bedroom opened and Seishirou came out. Subaru was torn between confronting the man and pretending to be asleep. In the end, he simply stared at him.
“Good morning, Subaru-kun.” Seishirou was as calm and civil as always. Subaru wanted to throw something at him.
“Why am I here?”
“You didn’t look like you had anywhere else to be.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Subaru managed to sit up and start digging in his pockets for his cigarettes. He was somewhat disconcerted to find that his ribs were taped, his arm bandaged. Even more disconcerting was the fact that the bandages were the only thing covering his upper body. That means . . . Seishirou-san . . . Subaru felt all the blushes from when he was sixteen combining and rising to his cheeks. He didn’t like the thought of Seishirou taking care of him. Especially not if it entailed taking his shirt off.
Subaru pulled out a cigarette.
Before he had a chance to look for his lighter, Seishirou extended his. As always. Subaru mumbled something that might have been thanks and lit his cigarette.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Subaru said, trying to sound severe, wishing his face wasn’t quite so red.
“I know.” Seishirou looked at him with a small smile. “You’re blushing, Subaru-kun.”
Subaru chose to ignore that statement entirely, and tried again. “Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you just leave me there?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Subaru paused. “What happened to you? You were fine, then you just . . . fell.” I was worried, he thought, then blushed again and firmly denied that he had been thinking it.
“It’s none of your concern.”
Subaru glared for a minute. This was bordering on ridiculous. “May I please have my shirt back?” he asked stiffly.
“Going somewhere, Subaru-kun?”
“It’s none of your concern,” Subaru echoed smugly.
Seishirou looked at him for a second, then shrugged. “It’s on the chair, over there, if you really want it.”
“Thank you.” Subaru put on hand on the edge of the sofa and pushed himself into a standing position. The world wavered alarmingly, but he closed his eyes tightly until it had steadied again. He was getting the hell out of the apartment if it was the last thing he did. He managed to take a few wobbling steps over to the chair and get his shirt on, avoiding looking at Seishirou for fear of blushing again. When he was dressed again, he turned and said, “Thank you for your . . . hospitality. I know the way out.” He stubbed his cigarette and left it in the ashtray.
Seishirou merely watched him.
Subaru managed to take three more steps before the world faded beneath his eyes. He caught hold of the couch again and stood swaying for a second.
“Maybe you should sit down?” Seishirou suggested.
“Maybe I can handle this myself,” Subaru snapped. Seishirou’s words made him irritated enough to try to go for the door. This, of course, didn’t work at all. His knees gave and he flailed for something to grab hold of. Something happened to be Seishirou. He grasped the older man by the arms and hung on for dear life while the world spun. Seishirou put an arm around his shoulders, supporting him.
The world cleared slowly. Subaru suddenly realized he was clinging to Seishirou, their bodies only inches apart. He made the huge mistake of looking up. His large green eyes met Seishirou’s: one golden brown, one pearl white.
A long moment of silence followed.
Subaru backed up a step hastily, turning crimson again. “A-Arigatou,” he stammered.
“I think you should probably lie down.” Seishirou’s voice was as calm as ever.
“No, I think I’ll . . . uhh . . .” The world wavered again, even with Seishirou steadying him. He put one hand to his aching head.
“Subaru-kun. Your eyes aren’t focusing properly. You have a concussion. Lie down.”
“A concussion that you gave me,” Subaru snapped.
“Most likely, yes.”
“I think I’m within my rights to leave.”
“Fine. If you can make it to the door, go right ahead.”
“Thank you.” Subaru let go of Seishirou’s arms and attempted yet again. He only made it a few steps before he began to fall. Seishirou let him this time; Subaru slumped to his hands and knees and wondered if he was going to be sick. Then Seishirou scooped him up and placed him on the sofa. Gently, at that. Subaru was beginning to get very confused.
“Seishirou-san . . .” he mumbled.
“Get some rest, Subaru-kun.” Seishirou’s face was impassive, but his voice held concern.
Subaru closed his eyes.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“What the hell?” Sorata went over to Kamui at a dead run and looked down at the mess in front of him. He knelt beside the two young men. “Kamui! Are you all right?”
Kamui’s eyes fluttered, then closed. He let out a faint moan.
“K’so,” Sorata cursed. He shot a glare at Fuuma. “You bastard,” he muttered.
Fuuma’s eyes were open. “Sorata . . .”
Sorata blinked.
Fuuma struggled to sit up. “Kamui . . . is Kamui all right . . .?”
Sorata gaped. “Fuuma, what . . .?”
Fuuma sank backwards, coughing.
“Don’t try to sit up,” Sorata said hastily. He had no idea what was going on, but if Fuuma really was coming back to himself and he let the other man die, Kamui would be pissed. He checked him over quickly. Fuuma seemed pretty much unharmed except for the gaping wound in his chest. Kamui, on the other hand, was a mess. Sorata repressed the urge to get angry. “Just stay calm,” he said. “I sent Arashi for an ambulance.”
Fuuma nodded once, then his eyes closed and his head rolled back.
“Great,” Sorata muttered. Thankfully, his ears soon heard the wail of sirens. A few minutes later, he was surrounded by medics.
Arashi leaned over him. “How are they?”
“Kamui’s beaten to hell and back,” Sorata answered. “Fuuma’s got one wound, but it’s a doozy. He seems to be . . . himself again, though. So I figure we can’t just leave him here.”
Arashi nodded coolly. “Kamui would be upset.”
Sorata looked around nervously at the EMTs. “Ne, Arashi-chan, should we do something about the swords?”
Arashi glared for a second at the affectionate term, then just sighed. “Hai, I suppose we should. I’ll take them back to the Ise shrine. We can decide what to do with them later.”
“Arigatou,” Sorata said. “I’ll stay with Kamui.”
She nodded. “I’ll meet you later at the hospital.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Seishirou woke Subaru once an hour, which was no fun for either of them, until Subaru’s eyes had gone back to normal.
“You were much more cheerful to be woken last time I had to do it,” Seishirou said conversationally.
“That was nine years ago,” Subaru said, glaring at him. “You must admit a lot’s changed since then.”
“I suppose I must. Are you feeling better?”
“Why do you care?”
Seishirou pondered several answers, then shrugged and gave the truth. “Since I was the one who caused your injuries, I felt it was my responsibility to take care of you.”
Subaru glared. “Less than a day ago, you were trying to kill me. Now you’re concerned for my welfare?”
“As you pointed out, time changes things.”
Subaru muttered something indistinct and irritable, fishing for a cigarette. His hands trembled and he burst out, “Will you just explain what’s going on?”
Seishirou pulled out a cigarette of his own and regarded the younger man for a long minute. Finally, he said, “No.”
Subaru made a strangled noise of frustration and pushed himself off the sofa. He was pleased to notice that this time he could manage it. His knees worked properly and the world remained, for the most part, steady. He turned to go, then his politeness took over at the last second. He muttered his thanks under his breath and headed for the door. Seishirou wasn’t even looking at him; his gaze was fixed in the distance.
Subaru grabbed his shoes and left the apartment before putting them on.
Seishirou’s eyes remained on the same spot for a long time; namely, the white trenchcoat that was draped over a chair.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Kamui moaned. His head hurt. His chest and his ribs hurt. Hell, everything hurt. His eyes felt like they were glued shut. He managed, after a second, to pry them open. There was a blur hovering above him. He moaned again and shut his eyes.
“Kamui, daijoubu ka?” The voice identified the blur as Sorata.
Kamui’s aching brain pondered what a stupid question it was. “Unnnhh,” he answered, proud of himself for responding at all.
He felt a cool hand on his forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’ll be all right,” Sorata said.
Kamui lifted one arm to rub his eyes. “Wha . . . what happened?”
“Only you can answer that one,” Sorata said. “You’re a mess. When most of the battle had settled, I went looking for you and found you and your friend on top of Tokyo Tower.” Sorata’s voice implied ‘of all places’ should be added to the end of that sentence. “Arashi called the ambulance and then we’re here. You’ve been out for about twelve hours.”
“I hurt . . .” Kamui mumbled, implying a question.
“I should imagine so. You’re in pretty sorry shape.” Sorata hesitated, not sure if he should give Kamui details.
“And . . .?”
Sorata decided to be as matter-of-fact as possible, thereby getting it over quicker and hopefully not making Kamui worry as much. If he hedged, Kamui would get irritated. “Top down,” he said. “You have a concussion, a sprained wrist, a whole bunch of broken and cracked ribs, bruises everywhere, a broken ankle, and a lot of blood loss.”
“Oh,” Kamui said faintly. He shivered, then felt Sorata’s hand on his forehead again.
“And a fever,” Sorata added.
“Fuuma wa . . .?” Kamui’s head throbbed; the world was fading in and out with every pulse. He wondered vaguely if that was from the concussion or the fever.
“A few rooms over. He’ll be okay.” Sorata hesitated. “Kamui, what happened with him?”
Kamui shivered again. “He . . . iie . . .” He closed his eyes tightly and attempted to stop his trembling. “I can’t . . .”
“Shhh,” Sorata said, gently ruffling his hair. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll get better soon, and then you can tell me about it.”
“H-Hai,” Kamui answered shakily.
“Now get some rest,” Sorata instructed.
Kamui tried to relax, then his eyes opened wide. “The . . . others?”
“Arashi’s with me. The rest are still missing. I think Arashi went out to see if she could find any of them.”
“Subaru . . .”
“We’ll find him.” Sorata knew he was promising something that might not be true, but if Kamui couldn’t relax, he would never go back to sleep. “Anshin shinasai.”
Kamui closed his eyes.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Subaru had little to no idea where to find anyone, or if anyone was around to find, but given the destruction that surrounded him, he decided the hospital was his best bet. He flagged down a taxi, glad that the transportation system still seemed to be in order, and headed off.
He took a guess and headed for the ICU; it seemed the most likely place.
“Subaru!”
His head snapped around as he heard someone calling his name, making the world spin again. It steadied, and he saw Sorata threading his way through the people toward him.
“Sorata,” Subaru said, not sure what else he could say, finding himself incredibly grateful he wasn’t the only one who had survived.
“Are you all right?” Sorata scanned him up and down.
“Yes,” Subaru lied. “A few minor injuries, but nothing serious. How is everyone?”
Sorata sighed. “Kamui’s hurt but he’ll be all right, or so we’ve been assured. Arashi is sitting with him now. No sign of any of the others yet. They could be - ” Sorata stopped the sentence and looked away. “We were worried about you,” he said. “Kamui especially.”
“What happened with Fuuma?”
“We’re not exactly sure. Kamui doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s in a room down the hall.”
“Oh.” Subaru considered this. “Can I see him?”
“Of course. He’ll be glad to see you. I think he woke up about a half hour ago. He’s sort of . . . out of it, but he’s more coherent than he was this morning.”
Subaru nodded and followed Sorata down the hall, where he knocked on a door and went in without waiting for an answer. Kamui was lying in bed; Arashi was in a chair next to him. Kamui’s eyes widened with surprise and happiness to see his friend. “Subaru!” His voice was somewhat dazed.
Subaru managed a reassuring smile. “Koban wa, Kamui.”
“Are you all right? Last time I saw you . . .” Kamui’s voice trailed off into confusion. “I was worried.”
Subaru walked over to the bed and pulled up another chair. “I’m fine,” he assured him. “What about you? What happened with Fuuma?”
“Iya . . . I can’t . . .” Kamui turned his face away.
“Told you so,” Sorata said.
Arashi took his arm in a rare show of affection, and pulled him out of the room.
Kamui glanced over at Subaru. “Seishirou? Is he . . .?”
“He lived.”
Kamui blinked. “What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Kamui sort of nodded and searched his hazy mind for something to say. “I’m glad you’re not angry . . .” he finally said awkwardly.
Subaru turned to him, eyebrows raised. “At you?”
“You were . . . not doing very well,” Kamui said lamely. “I was worried and . . .”
“Kamui,” Subaru interrupted. “What did you do?”
“Blew up his tree . . .”
That, Subaru thought as his jaw reached new depths, could explain quite a bit. “You blew up the Sakurazuka.”
“Yeah.” Kamui nodded, then wished he hadn’t, as it send pain jolting through his head.
“I didn’t know that was possible.”
Kamui half-shrugged as best as he could.
“Well,” Subaru said finally. “You did admirably. Thank you.”
Kamui closed his eyes and mumbled something.
With that, Arashi and Sorata walked back in. “The nurse says we have to go,” Sorata explained. “So Kamui can get his rest.”
“All right.” Subaru smiled reassuringly at Kamui. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” He stood a little too quickly and drew in a sharp breath of pain, one arm involuntarily crossing over his ribs. The world began to spin again. I really wish it would stop doing that.
“Are you all right?” several voices chorused. Kamui woke up enough to look concerned.
“Fine, fine. Just dizzy for a moment.” Subaru let go of his death grip on the back of the chair and took a wobbling step.
“You are not fine,” Sorata said, catching hold of him as he started to fall. “I think your minor injuries aren’t as minor as you said they were. We’re getting a doctor.” He hauled Subaru, who was still protesting faintly that he was fine, out of the room.
Subaru was quickly checked out and deposited into a room in another part of the hospital. “We’ll just keep you here overnight,” the doctor said. “To make sure you’re okay.”
Subaru bit back the urge to protest and thanked the doctor as graciously as his somewhat worn temper would allow.
Sorata poked his head in. “We’re gonna go out scouting for the others,” he said. “Don’t try to escape or anything dumb like that.”
“I won’t.” Subaru closed his eyes. Not that he would have admitted it, but it felt distinctly nice to be lying down again.
“Do you want us to pick you up anything?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” He frowned. “Oh . . . if it’s not too much trouble, could you stop by my house and get me some pajamas or something? I hate hospital clothes.”
“No problem,” Sorata said cheerfully, then looked at him curiously. “Where’s your coat? I’ve never seen you without it before today, when you’re out and about, that is.”
“It’s - ” Subaru stopped to think; just where was his trenchcoat? Only one possible answer presented itself. Oh, great, he thought dismally. “I must have left it somewhere,” he answered distractedly. Damn it, my ofada were in the pockets! I can’t leave that with him!
“Okay,” Sorata said as cheerfully as the situation allowed, totally oblivious to what Subaru was thinking. “We’ll be back to visit tomorrow.” With that, the younger man waved and left.
I wonder if I can get it back without actually speaking to him, Subaru thought vaguely. Breaking and entering wasn’t his style, so that left pointing to the coat and hoping Seishirou would get the message and choose not to torture him be pretending that he didn’t understand. No, probably not.
And of course you don’t want to see him or speak to him, part of his brain said. That’s why you ended up clinging to him, and why you stayed there so long, and at his eyes you felt . . .
Subaru shivered.
And in the past nine years you haven’t thought about it all, right, his mind continued. You never once thought that maybe it was all some kind of weird misunderstanding and he’d change and everything could be the way it was. Of course not. For God’s sake, Sumeragi Subaru, who do you think you’re kidding?
“It’s not like he was being the way he used to be,” Subaru muttered to that other part of himself. “He wasn’t . . . evil . . . but he certainly was cold. You’re lying to yourself if you think you have any more of a chance now than you did a week ago.”
A chance?
A chance at what?
Subaru sat up in bed, holding his aching head in his hands.
Don’t even tell me you’re thinking . . .
“Of course I’m not,” he snapped at nobody. “Anything I felt for him was dead and buried long ago. There’s nothing now.”
Sure.
Subaru attempted to reason with himself. “You still have to go get the coat, so you may as well stop worrying about it. You can show up, get it, and leave again. And you won’t have to see him again, and you can forget about him.”
Just like you’ve forgotten about him over the past nine years.
“Oh, be quiet.” Subaru leaned backwards. His head hurt too much to be thinking about it. He could worry about it in the morning.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Sakurazuka Seishirou lay awake.
A quick glance at his clock confirmed that it was past three in the morning. The day had been one long chain of disturbing events, as if the previous day hadn’t been bad enough. But in addition to the odd way Subaru had acted - and, he had to admit, the way he’d been acting - he was extremely displeased about the loss of a lot of his magic. Unsettled, even. After seeing that Subaru really was going to leave without his coat, he’d tried idly to locate him, pondering going to return it. Then he’d realized with frustration that he couldn’t track the younger man anymore.
Not that he had any real reason to do so anymore. But still, after being able to for almost twenty years, it was disconcerting to no longer have the ability.
And why, he asked himself, do you have any interest in seeing Subaru-kun? Or even returning his coat, for that matter?
An answer did not readily spring to mind.
This was perhaps the most disturbing thing of all. One thing that Seishirou had always known very well had been his own mind. Now parts of it were shadowed by emotions that he barely recognized and could’ve done quite happily without.
Happily?
Well . . . maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration.
But that wasn’t the point. The point was that he was guilty for wounding Subaru unnecessarily. He discovered he was guilty about a lot of things. A lot of them applied to his Subaru-kun.
And damn it all, why did he keep thinking of him like that? Subaru certainly no longer belonged to him.
Or did he?
He was worried about Subaru. This was not something he was accustomed to feeling. Not that he was accustomed to feeling anything. But somehow, this was worse than most of the other nagging emotions.
Which brought him to the real question: what, exactly, did he feel for Subaru anyway?
He wasn’t sure he wanted to think about that.
He also wasn’t sure he wanted to see Subaru again. He considered for a moment packing up the coat and shipping it to him. Or hanging it on the outside of the door. Maybe Subaru wouldn’t even come back for it.
He tossed that last aside. He’d looked in the pockets and found the ofada. Subaru was bound to come back for those. He’d never leave them in the hands of the Sakurazukamori, even if he couldn’t claim the title any longer.
No, he would have to face Subaru. He pondered why the idea was making him inwardly cringe. He’d managed it just fine that morning. Except for the part where Subaru had ended up in his arms -
Just one more thing he didn’t want to think about.
Which must explain, Seishirou thought dryly, why I keep coming back to it.
It had been a long time since Subaru had been that close to him.
It could be a short time before it happened again.
Seishirou wasn’t sure how he felt about that, either.
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