And From The Ashes...
Author’s Notes: And here I go, attempting to write a fic when I have no idea what’s going to happen. All you kids watching, I’m a professional. Do not attempt this at home.
Warnings: Yaoi. And, uh, yaoi. And weird pairings. This is *technically* a Subaru/Kamui fic, but it’s also a Seishirou/Fuuma fic. And of course has many other pairings thrown around, primarily Subaru/Seishirou and Kamui/Keichii... probably at least a little Fuuma/Kamui... and maybe some Subaru/Fuuma is Murasaki begs enough. There will also be angst, violence, blood, and probably a lot of sex, even if very little of it will be graphically portrayed. And yes, it starts with Kamui introspectiveness. Bite me, all you Kamui-hating peoples. ^_~
Disclaimer: This fic is entirely Murasaki’s fault, so if you’re going to sue anyone, sue her. ^_^;;
Please leave feedback, I will write much faster that way.
Prologue
Shirou Kamui had never really thought about ‘the day after.’ He had been so concerned with getting to the day in question, not to even mention living through it, that he had never stopped to ponder what life would be like afterwards. Now, he was quickly discovering, life from ‘the day after’ onwards was going to be hell on wheels.
It had been a busy day, if nothing else. Started bright and early with getting out of the hospital. Walked to CLAMP Campus to find out if the Shinken had been recovered. It had, but, funny thing -- it had dissolved as soon as someone touched it.
Kamui breathed a slight sigh of relief. Despite what had happened, it really seemed to be over.
Downtown was a mess, so he avoided it. Even the best of kekkai hadn’t been able to keep small parts from collapsing, and of course the explosion at Tokyo Tower had probably killed hundreds of people.
He didn’t try to find out if Fuuma’s body had been recovered. There was no point. Not really. And the rescue workers had enough to do.
He was aware, on some basic, fundamental level, that he had classes to attend the next day. Homework to do. Quizzes to study for. Dishes to wash. Laundry to do. Arashi had done housework when he’d made large enough puppy dog eyes, but . . .
He didn’t want to go home. The apartment was large enough for six people to live in. Far too large for just one.
But he had nowhere else to go.
He knew he should be glad he had survived. He certainly hadn’t expected to.
He went home, for sheer lack of anything better to do, and began packing away everyone’s belongings. Sorata’s would be sent to Mount Kouya. Arashi’s to the Shrine of Ise. Yuzuriha’s had already been taken care of. Karen and Seiichirou had never lived there. Which only left Subaru’s room, untouched since the day he had left over eight months before.
Kamui hadn’t seen him since then.
Sorata had tried, more than once, to get Kamui to pack up Subaru’s belongings and send them to his Clan’s home in Kyoto -- surely they would know what to do about his disappearance. But Kamui had never done so, and when Sorata wasn’t paying attention, he snuck into Subaru’s room and slept in his bed. It smelled faintly of stale cigarettes, even now. Kamui had learned that you could never really get the smell of tobacco out of fabric.
He lay down and rested his face against the pillow. He knew about Subaru’s decision to become the Sakurazukamori and take Seishirou’s place on the opposing side. Fuuma had told him. Despite this, the former Sumeragi Head had never sought him out, nor had he appeared in the Final Battle. Apparently Subaru wasn’t very concerned with his ‘duties.’
Really, Kamui reflected, he never had been. He had been intent on avoiding his fate as a Seal altogether, as far as Kamui had been able to tell. He had gotten wrapped up in it anyway; sometimes destiny moved too fast to be avoided.
Small wonder that Subaru had abandoned them. He had never really cared at all.
Tear after tear slid down Kamui’s cheeks, silent, soaking into the pillow. Subaru had only just agreed to move in before Seishirou had died. He had stayed there a total of three weeks.
Kamui realized with a slight shock that he didn’t even know whether or not Subaru was alive. A small part of him hoped not -- surely Subaru deserved the peace of death after everything he had been through.
He doubted that Subaru would have allowed himself to die, though. Subaru felt it was necessary to atone for killing Seishirou; he wouldn’t die before he felt that he had done that. Kamui knew that Subaru had willingly condemned himself to a life of self-torment.
Finding him would be quite simple. All he would have to do would be to go to the Sakura and wait.
Kamui didn’t move.
He didn’t know if he was afraid to go, or respected Subaru’s wishes, or simply lacked the motivation to even breathe.
He was struck by the sudden desire to get up, pack his things, and leave. He didn’t know where he would go. He didn’t want to know. He just wanted to leave, to get out of Tokyo, to escape all the memories and all the pain.
He still didn’t move.
The sun was beginning to set; he could see it through Subaru’s lone west-facing window. Sunset over Tokyo, the day after the Promised Day. Humanity had continued. Shirou Kamui had been offered up as a sacrifice. He had none of the glory that his name implied. He had simply lost everything precious to him, so humanity would not have to lose what was precious to it: existence.
And now the sacrifice lay on the altar, still alive, but only in the most base way possible. Heart still beating. Lungs still drawing in air. Neurons still firing.
Slowly, very slowly, so slowly that not even the most experienced person watching would have noticed, Kamui’s eyes went dull, then flat, then blank. He withdrew, and kept withdrawing, until he was safely locked away in the ruins of his own soul. Lying on the bed of a man who might have been alive, or might have been dead, in an apartment inhabited only by shadows and memories. A place where no one was likely to come, where no one would find him in time.
The sun set, and darkness blanketed the room.
The door opened. There was no noise, not even the sound of footsteps as the unseen figure walked across the room. Nothing was visible except the thinnest curl of smoke that rose from the cigarette in his hand, filling the room with the fresh scent of tobacco to cover the old smell.
Sumeragi Subaru leaned over Kamui. He checked his pulse. Checked his breathing. Looked into his eyes.
He finished his cigarette and left the ashes in the tray on the bedside table.
Then he turned and left the room.
Twenty miles away, on the other side of Tokyo, monitors flashed and machines beeped. They signified change. Everything was changing all at once. Tokyo had reached the other side of destiny.
Sakurazuka Seishirou opened his eyes for the first time in over eight months.
~~~~
Chapter One
TB/X Fics