Aftermath
By Karasu Yurei and Kouri Arashi
Part Four
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Subaru had been sitting with a vaguely coherent Kamui long enough to be hungry. He waited until Kamui drifted off to sleep, then decided to go to the cafeteria. He walked out of the room, into Sorata and Arashi. “He’s asleep,” he informed them, then noticed their grim faces. “What’s wrong?”
“We found out about Karen and Yuzuriha,” Sorata said quietly.
Subaru looked at them. “Gone?” he asked softly.
Sorata nodded.
Subaru thought about what he knew about them. “Yuzuriha will be taken care of by her temple . . . we’ll have to make arrangements for Karen.”
“Seiichirou wants to,” Sorata said. “That’s where we just were. He woke up. He was with Karen when she died. He said he would take care of it.”
“All right,” Subaru said. “I’m going down to the cafeteria, if you two would care to join me.”
Sorata nodded. “I’m starving. Arashi-chan?”
She gave him a withering look, but at this point she’d given up saying anything. The three of them walked to the cafeteria, got some food, and sat down.
A few minutes later, Seishirou walked in. He had dropped Kakyou off, then realized that he hadn’t eaten all day. He didn’t think there was much at his apartment, so the hospital caf seemed quick and easy. He saw Subaru’s profile and decided that Fate was against him. Quickly, before Subaru could see him, he turned to go. Facing Subaru was one thing; doing it right after discovering his new conscience running rampant was quite another.
He walked right into Yuuto. Fate was definitely against him. “What are you doing here?” he asked, ignoring the No Smoking signs plastered everywhere and taking out a cigarette.
“Actually, I was looking for you. Or them. Or anybody.”
“Having difficulties?”
“I was never meant to be a babysitter. It’s not my thing. How’s Kakyou?”
“In a hospital room.”
Yuuto raised an eyebrow. “Lose your nerve?”
“I don’t want to discuss it.”
Yuuto shrugged. “Let’s go talk to the Seals.”
Something within Seishirou rebelled wildly at this thought. “Let’s not.”
Yuuto grabbed his sleeve as he started to duck out of the cafeteria. “Come on.”
Seishirou glared daggers at him.
Yuuto glared right back, but let go of his sleeve. “Look, we have one hell of a mess to deal with. No one knows what to do about Fuuma, and I’m at a total loss where it comes to Nataku. If Kakyou’s going to live someone has to talk him out of his coma. And on top of everything, I have a bloody headache. Let’s go.”
Seishirou saw the sense in this, as much as it dismayed him, and followed Yuuto. Maybe he could get away with not saying anything.
They walked over to the table. Subaru looked up and smiled pleasantly. “Oh, Seishirou-san. I thought you were going to run away.”
“From what?” Seishirou asked, taking a long drag on his cigarette.
“From me. You stopped pretty quickly when you saw me, then turned to go. And there’s no smoking here. If I can manage, so can you.”
Seishirou dropped the cigarette. “Subaru-kun?”
“Nani?”
“I liked it much better when you were sixteen and too polite to open your mouth to do anything but stutter, let alone be snide in an elder’s direction.”
“As you pointed out, times change.” Subaru was outright grinning now, thrilled to have the upper hand for once. “Would you like to sit down?” He began to drink his tea again. “And perhaps introduce us?”
Seishirou took a seat. Yuuto followed suit, after he’d picked his jaw up off the floor. Sorata and Arashi were staring.
“Seishirou, one. Subaru, one,” Sorata announced.
“Care for a tiebreaker?” Arashi asked.
“I’m up for it,” Subaru said.
Yuuto was looking between Subaru and Seishirou. “You two know each other?” He smirked. “That’s why you were so reluctant to come over here.”
Seishirou kept his temper with great effort. “Thank you, Yuuto.”
“I see your nerves are fraying,” Subaru said with a smile.
“Subaru-kun.”
“Nani?”
“Are you getting me back for the last nine years?”
Subaru smiled wickedly. “With interest.”
“Wonderful.” He looked at Yuuto. “This was your idea. Say something.”
Yuuto sighed. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Kigai Yuuto.”
Sorata looked at him, somewhat on guard, which only made sense, considering that the last time they’d met, they’d been trying to blow each other up. “Arisugawa Sorata.”
“Kishuu Arashi.”
“Sumeragi Subaru.” He smiled at Seishirou.
“Sakurazuka Seishirou.” Seishirou glared back.
“Forsaken your title?” Subaru grinned.
“Subaru-kun?”
“Nani?”
“Shut up.”
“Seishirou, one; Subaru, two.” Sorata announced.
“Look,” Yuuto said before another war could erupt, “we have a mess to deal with, and we need to work together to deal with it. We need to clear up the aftermath. We know when we’ve lost.”
“He doesn’t, apparently,” Subaru said.
Seishirou ignored him.
“What have you told Fuuma?” Yuuto asked.
“That he was kidnapped by the Forces of Evil,” Sorata said. “Which is the truth . . . sort of. And that we don’t know exactly what happened in between. Or at the end. Which is also true. He doesn’t remember and Kamui refuses to speak about their battle.”
“Forces of Evil?” Seishirou asked.
“I don’t think I’m evil.” Yuuto looked hurt. “Misguided, possibly. On the wrong side at the wrong time, I’ll freely admit to that.”
“We couldn’t think of a better way to phrase it,” Sorata said. “And don’t tell me Fuuma wasn’t evil.”
“Point,” Yuuto said.
“We’re waiting until Kamui feels better to tell him the rest, because a lot of this is his decision, but he’s only half-coherent right now.”
Yuuto frowned. “Well, here’s a problem. I have an extremely tall emotional-five-year-old in my apartment that has, for God knows what reason, decided that Fuuma is his dad. And Fuuma doesn’t remember him anymore. And if Nataku gets mad . . . bad things happen. Oh, and by the way, Nataku also happened to kill Fuuma’s father.”
“Oh boy,” Sorata said. “Did Fuuma see him?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, that’s one good thing.” Sorata frowned, thinking. “How about this. We’ll tell him the truth. Except for the bit about killing his father. I don’t think Kamui is going to gloss over much when he explains things to Fuuma. He’ll probably tell Fuuma that yeah, he was being an evil bastard for a while, because he’ll have to explain the fact that he’s terrified of Fuuma. He’s been having nightmares about the kid. He’ll have to tell him basically what happened. All I’m expecting him to lie about is Kotori. We’ve already broken the news to him that she’s died, and we said it was an accident, and we’re going to let Kamui make up some details. So we can tell Fuuma that Nataku is an Angel that got attached to him for whatever reason. Fuuma, from what I can tell, is a pretty nice guy. Odd as it seems, I know. I met him beforehand. He really is. He’ll take care of Nataku, or at least be nice to the kid. Just give us a day or two to explain things.”
“Who knows how to deal with children?” Yuuto asked.
“Seiichirou,” Arashi said, then explained. “One of the Seals is married with children. He would be far more adept than you at baby-sitting.”
“He’ll be in the hospital for at least a couple more days, though,” Sorata said.
“It’s okay, I’ll deal with it,” Yuuto said. “As long as it’s not too much longer. I can only rent so many cartoons.”
“Bring him tomorrow afternoon,” Sorata said. “We’ll make sure to have explained everything to Fuuma by then.”
“All right,” Yuuto said. He sighed. “What about Kakyou?”
The others looked blank.
“One of us,” Yuuto explained. “He’s been in a coma for years, but we can’t kill him, he already tried.” He pointed at Seishirou.
Subaru, who had gone extremely quiet as he surreptitiously eyed Seishirou, raised an eyebrow. “He tried?”
Seishirou ignored him. “I don’t want to discuss it.”
“Explain this one to me,” Subaru said. “Sakurazuka Seishirou-san doesn’t try to kill people, last time I checked.”
“You haven’t checked very recently.”
Subaru was staring at him in open fascination. “You couldn’t do it.”
“I told you, I don’t want to discuss it.”
Subaru decided to back off. This, obviously, was not something to needle Seishirou about. Whatever had happened to the former assassin, it had obviously shaken him.
“Anyway,” Yuuto said, “we have to get him out of the coma somehow.”
“I’m stumped,” Sorata admitted. “Kamui might have some ideas. We’ll talk to him.”
Yuuto nodded. “Thank you for cooperating,” he said. “I will admit I was nervous about how this would work.”
Sorata nodded back. “I’ll assume we’ll be seeing you later.”
Yuuto gave them a cheerful smile, bid his farewells, and left.
Seishirou stood wordlessly, turned, and walked away.
A brief moment of silence passed, then Subaru pushed back from the table and followed him.
“There is something between the two of them that we don’t know about,” Sorata said.
“Hai,” Arashi said.
“Seishirou-san!” Subaru hastened to catch up with the older man.
Seishirou reluctantly halted and half-turned. “Nani?” He saw the concern in Subaru’s face and had to admit, it made him feel better.
“Daijoubu ka? You look . . . out of sorts.”
“I’ve been better.” Seishirou turned to go.
“Gomennasai,” Subaru said quietly. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I should realize . . . that this is hard for you.”
Seishirou pulled out another cigarette, not looking at him. “Concerned, Subaru-kun?”
“Yes. And so are you. And you seem to be enjoying my concern. So don’t get high and mighty and emotionless on me. I like you better this way.”
“I’m amazed you like me at all.”
“Why? Because you don’t like yourself?”
Seishirou turned sharply to him, unnerved. He actually took a step away from Subaru’s large, green eyes, and the clear emotion in them. For the first time in ten years, Subaru wasn’t hiding anything from him. It felt . . . nice. In a bizarre, twisted way. He was stopped with his cigarette halfway to his lips, still unlit.
Subaru pulled out a lighter.
Seishirou allowed him to light the cigarette, deciding to avoid the question entirely. An answer would be superfluous; Subaru obviously knew what it was.
Subaru pulled out a cigarette of his own. The two of them stood there looking at each other.
“You shouldn’t smoke, Subaru-kun,” Seishirou said, voice calm. “It could kill you.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“You’re sure you’re up to this?” Sorata looked at Kamui, concerned. “It can wait - ”
“I’ll be okay,” Kamui reassured him. “We can’t put Fuuma off forever. I want to make sure he’s all right. And . . . explain things to him.” He looked up at Sorata anxiously. “You’re sure it’s okay to move him?”
“The doctors said it was all right,” Sorata reassured him. “And you certainly can’t go anywhere for a day or two yet.”
Kamui grumbled.
“I’ll go get him,” Sorata said, ruffling Kamui’s hair and leaving the room. He came back a few minutes later. Fuuma was leaning on him heavily, but walking. “I’ll leave the two of you alone, ne?” Sorata said cheerfully, helping Fuuma sit down next to Kamui’s bed. He’d promised Kamui beforehand to stay right outside the door. He walked out and leaned against the wall, leaving the door ajar.
Fuuma leaned forward, concern in his eyes. It took all of Kamui’s willpower not to flinch away. “Are you all right?”
Kamui had to swallow a few times before he could answer. “I’ll be okay. You?”
“I’ll live. What’s going on?”
Kamui took a deep breath, which hurt like a son of a bitch and didn’t go very well at all. “Well . . . remember when your father said I was your . . . but we didn’t know what he meant? Well, we found out what he meant. You were my . . . opposite, or something. And there were Seals and Angels, and when I chose to be on the side of the Seals - the good people - you kind of automatically got swapped over to the Angels.”
“The bad side,” Fuuma finished for him.
Kamui squirmed. “Yeah. I . . . I didn’t know it would happen. I was trying to help, trying to protect you . . .”
“Kamui,” Fuuma interrupted gently, “are you trying to apologize for saving the world?”
“Maybe?” Kamui guessed.
“Well, stop it. You’re being silly. What happened?”
Kamui took another deep breath, or tried to. “You kinda became evil for a while . . . bad things happened.”
“What bad things?”
“Let’s not go into details.”
“Did I do this to you?” Fuuma asked, already starting to look guilty.
“It wasn’t really you,” Kamui said quickly. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Fuuma processed this. “That’s why Sorata-san told me I probably shouldn’t touch you . . . not even put a hand on your shoulder. I thought it was because you were hurt, but . . .”
Kamui winced. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll just be kinda . . . nervous for a while . . . gomen ne . . .”
Fuuma sighed. “Stop apologizing.”
“Stop feeling guilty and I will.” Kamui eyed him. “I’ll say this once. This wasn’t your fault. None of this. Nobody’s blaming you for anything, so you’re not allowed to either.”
Fuuma half-shrugged. “What else?”
Kamui looked at his hands, fiddling absently with the top of the blanket. “You heard . . . about Kotori?”
Fuuma nodded silently. After a long pause, he said, “But they didn’t tell me what happened.”
“In one of the earthquakes . . .” Kamui’s voice trailed off. He didn’t like lying; this way he was just avoiding the truth.
Fuuma closed his eyes for a second.
“I’m sorry . . .” Kamui said, feeling tears start.
Fuuma looked over at him, saw the tears, and reached out a hand. Kamui visibly flinched away. Fuuma let his hand drop. “Gomen,” he said softly. “I forgot.”
“Don’t worry . . . I’m sorry too . . .” Kamui reached up and wiped his tears away with a trembling hand.
Fuuma frowned and looked closer. “What happened to your hand?”
Kamui flinched again. “N-Nothing,” he stammered, caught off guard by Fuuma’s question.
“That scar isn’t nothing,” Fuuma said, leaning over to peer at it.
“Don’t worry about it.” Kamui shoved his hand under the blankets.
Fuuma sighed and gave up.
“Oh . . .” Kamui said. Right, Nataku. “There’s this kid. Well, guy. I’m sure you don’t remember him. He looks about . . . our age. But he’s about five, emotionally speaking. Long story, hard to explain. Anyway, he’s gotten kind of attached to you . . . in a sort of father-son-kinda-way.” Kamui saw Fuuma’s bemused look. “We’re not sure why. It might have just been because you were nice to him . . . or something . . . anyway, he wants to see you and we can’t put him off forever so be nice to him, okay?”
Fuuma managed to dredge up a smile. “Of course I’ll be nice to him.”
Kamui smiled painfully back.
“You look tired,” Fuuma said. “I’ll go, and let you get some rest.” He slowly lifted himself out of the chair, muttering softly about how much it hurt.
“Don’t try to do that,” Kamui lectured him. He raised his voice a little and called out, “Sorata . . .?”
The door opened and Sorata poked his head in. “All set?” he asked.
“Were you waiting outside the door?” Fuuma asked.
Kamui looked at his hands. “I asked him to. Gomen . . .”
Fuuma gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” Sorata helped him out of the room. Kamui managed to sit up and pull himself into a little ball, which hurt, but he didn’t care. I can’t even talk to him without shaking, he thought miserably. I just want to feel better . . . He buried his face in his knees, shivering. He was so absorbed in his misery that he didn’t hear Sorata come back in, and was entirely unaware of the other man’s presence until he sat down next to him on the bed.
“Don’t curl up like that, it can’t be good for you.”
Kamui looked up, startled, to see Sorata’s sympathetic eyes. “Aa . . .” he managed.
Sorata put an arm around his shoulders carefully. “Allow me to ask a stupid question. You okay?”
Kamui sniffled, hiding his face in Sorata’s shoulder.
“You’re not okay.” Sorata hugged him gently.
Kamui was crying too hard to reply.
“Shhh,” Sorata said. “It’ll be all right. He’s fine now, and so are you. Everything’s going to be okay . . .” He continued to murmur soothingly as Kamui sobbed.
“But I can’t even stand to be near him,” Kamui cried. “He tried to kill me! I wanted to have him back, and now that I do, I’m . . . afraid of him . . . I see him and I start shaking . . . I can’t do this, Sorata . . .” His words dissolved into more tears.
“It’ll get better,” Sorata promised. “You just need to give it time, that’s all. No one’s going to hurt you, Kamui. We’ll protect you. Stop worrying.”
Kamui’s sobs died to sniffles. He pulled out of Sorata’s comforting embrace, wiping his eyes and looking embarrassed. “Gomen,” he mumbled, looking at the floor.
Sorata ruffled his hair. “No apologizing. Feel any better?”
“A little.”
“Good. Now what I think you need is some rest.” He looked at his watch. “Take a nap. Subaru said he’d be dropping by this evening, so he should be here in an hour or so. You’ll be all right alone?”
Kamui nodded. “Alone isn’t the problem.”
“Okay.” Sorata gave him another hug. “Then get some sleep, okay?”
Kamui nodded again and closed his eyes. “All right.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Yuuto led Nataku down the hallway of the hospital, hoping that he’d explained everything properly, and hoping even more that Fuuma knew what was going on. He’d gotten Nataku some real clothing, so at least they weren’t drawing attention. Nataku obviously didn’t like the hospital. “What’s wrong, Nataku?”
“I don’t like this place,” Nataku stated flatly.
“Why not?”
Nataku’s nose wrinkled. “The smell. And too many people.”
“Smells like where you came from, huh,” Yuuto said. “Well, it’s not much further now.”
Nataku nodded and continued to follow him. Yuuto paused outside a door. “Now, remember what I said. His memory’s been damaged and he doesn’t know who you are, but he’ll still be nice to you and everything.” I hope, he added fervently.
Nataku nodded.
“Okay then.” Yuuto knocked on the door. When he heard a voice from inside, he pushed the door open. “Hi, Fuuma,” he said cheerfully, towing Nataku in the room. “Remember me yet?”
“No,” Fuuma answered calmly. “But at least now I know who you are.”
“Ah, so the others have explained everything to you? Good. This is Nataku.” Yuuto gently pushed Nataku forward.
Fuuma gave Nataku his patent reassuring smile. “Hi, Nataku. Sorry I don’t remember you. I’m a bit mixed-up about some stuff.”
Nataku hesitantly walked over and sat in the chair next to Fuuma’s bed. Yuuto breathed a silent sigh of relief.
“You seem different from before,” Nataku said, a faintly puzzled expression crossing his face.
“It’s been a long week,” Fuuma said. “How so?”
Nataku paused, searching for the words to express it. “Nicer,” he finally said. “On the inside. You were nice before, but it seemed . . . not you.”
“I hope you like me better this way,” Fuuma said. “Because this is the way I really am.”
Nataku considered this. “I do,” he decided. “What do I call you?”
Fuuma blinked. “My name’s Fuuma, so, that would be fine.”
“All right,” Nataku said.
Yuuto let out another sigh of relief. This was going better than he’d dreamed. He could finally relax. It amazed him that Fuuma was this nice. Nobody was this nice. Especially considering what he’d been acting like a few days ago . . . He shook the thoughts off. It definitely wasn’t worth thinking about.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“So that’s what happened,” Subaru concluded his account of the past few days. “He’s so different, but so . . . not.” He paused. “I’m making no sense.”
“You’re making sense,” Kamui assured him. He was sitting up in bed, looking much better after his nap. “You don’t know how to react around him anymore.”
Subaru nodded. “It’s not even as if he’s back to the way I remember him. It’s like a third person. I think this may be the real Seishirou-san.”
Kamui regarded him for a minute. “Do you like the real Seishirou?”
Subaru turned pink. “He’s not being very nice.”
“No, but neither are you, or so I hear, which is understandable on both your parts. I mean, you have been mortal enemies for the past nine years.” He paused. “And you’re blushing.”
“I am not.”
“Of course not, Subaru.” Kamui smiled, then became serious again. “What about your sister?”
Subaru twisted the bottom of his shirt in his hands. “I don’t know. I still feel that I should get revenge for her, but it’s not the same person. Taking it out on him wouldn’t be just. Besides . . . Hokuto was only part of my reason for hating him.” He looked at the floor. “He lied to me, betrayed me. And I believed him. I felt so . . . used. But that wasn’t really him either. The person who did those things is already dead.”
Kamui looked at him, a bit sadly. “The problem,” he stated, “is that you don’t want to kill Seishirou. You never did.”
Subaru gave him a sharp glance.
“Come on, you think you could fool me?” Kamui asked. “I know how powerful you are. If you’d ever really tried to kill him, he’d be dead, or at least you would’ve come close a couple times. And the same thing happened to him. He didn’t want to kill you. He would have by now. You were hardly making it difficult for him.”
Subaru sighed, redirecting his gaze to the floor. “It’s strange to be near him,” he said softly. “He tried to kill me.”
“Fuuma tried to kill me,” Kamui pointed out. “Let me tell you, I’m sure you’re doing better than I am. You don’t shake like a leaf whenever you see him. If I can handle it, so can you.”
“Uh,” Subaru answered, not being able to think of anything better. “I come here to visit you and you give me a counseling session.”
“You needed it.” There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Kamui called.
The door opened and Seishirou poked his head in.
Subaru gave him a tired look. “Are you stalking me?”
“No, I think we’ve gotten over that phase in our relationship.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Seishirou ignored him. “May I come in?”
“Sure,” Kamui said, with the hint of a smirk. “But don’t piss me off.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Why are you here?” Subaru asked as Seishirou walked into the room. “There’d better be a good reason.”
“I came to check in on Kakyou and I figured I would come in and pay my respects to Kamui, and I noticed you were here . . .”
“Seishirou-san, you’re just making this up.”
“I am not,” Seishirou said indignantly. “I fully plan on visiting Kakyou.”
“You just happened to come here first.”
“Precisely.”
“You’re really reaching.”
“You know what I think?” Seishirou asked. “I think you left your coat in my apartment on purpose.”
Subaru turned red. “Or maybe because I’d been concussed,” he snapped.
“Of course, Subaru-kun.”
Kamui was fighting to hold back laughter. “Subaru, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Subaru shot him a death glare, then said, “Of course. Kamui, this is Sakurazuka Seishirou, former veterinarian, former assassin, and current bastard. Seishirou-san, this is Shirou Kamui.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Seishirou said dryly.
“You two seem to be old friends,” Kamui said, feigning innocence.
“Oh, yes, I’ve known my Subaru-kun for about ten years now.”
Subaru mumbled something under his breath.
“What was that, Subaru-kun?”
Subaru said nothing. Kamui chipped in, “I think he was irritated with your use of the possessive.”
Seishirou laughed. “A lot of things irritate my Subaru-kun.”
“I think he might be getting ready to kill you,” Kamui said calmly. “You might want to go visit Kakyou while your head is still attached to your body.”
“Surely.” Seishirou stood. “I’ll drop in again before I leave.”
“Please do,” Kamui said.
“Please don’t,” Subaru snapped.
Seishirou offered him a disarming smile. “Don’t be like that, Subaru-kun.”
“How else am I supposed to be?” Subaru asked irritably.
Seishirou considered. “You could be cute and charming again.”
“When you start being the nice veterinarian I used to know, I’ll start being the quiet sixteen year old.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” Seishirou turned and walked out of the room.
Subaru held his head in his hands.
“You like him,” Kamui said, smiling. “No, you more than like him.”
“I do not,” Subaru said flatly.
“You do too. You think he’s the best thing since steamed rice.”
“Kamui, be quiet.”
“You were staring at him the whole time,” Kamui said. “You were blushing continuously. And only the people you care about can irritate you that much.”
Subaru made no response.
“And more than that, he likes you,” Kamui continued. “I could tell from the way he watched you. And picked on you.”
“I said be quiet.”
“Okay.”
There was a long pause. Kamui waited until Subaru gave in. “You really think he likes me?”
Kamui burst into laughter, then gasped in pain.
“You all right?” Subaru asked.
Kamui nodded. “Laughing is a bad idea. Makes my ribs hurt. But the look on your face . . .” He stifled snickers. “So, what are the two of you waiting for?”
Subaru glared. “Nothing. We’re not waiting because there’s not anything for us to do.”
“Uh huh.” Kamui looked unimpressed by this. Then he sighed. “Subaru, you’re just hurting yourself more by trying to hold it all inside. You should know that. Just let whatever happens . . . happen.”
“Easy for you to say,” Subaru said. “I’ve been trying to get revenge . . . or at least half-trying . . . on him for nine years. Old habits die hard. I still want to punch him.”
Kamui shrugged. “So do it, and get it out of your system.”
Subaru blinked; this was obviously not the answer he’d been expecting.
There was another knock, then Seishirou came back in without waiting for an answer.
“How’s Kakyou?” Subaru asked dryly.
“Comatose. Really quite boring,” Seishirou answered.
“I see.”
Seishirou smiled at him. “Have you eaten dinner, Subaru-kun?”
Subaru considered lying, but his honest nature won out. “No.”
“Then you have to let me take you out to dinner,” Seishirou decided.
“No I don’t.”
Kamui poked him in the shoulder. “Yes you do. Don’t make me zap some sense into you.”
Subaru glared at him. “You want me to go out to dinner with him.”
Kamui nodded, smiling.
“You want me to go out to dinner with him.”
“Let’s go,” Seishirou said.
“Seishirou-san?”
“Nani?”
“I hate you.”
“It’ll make dinner more interesting.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++