Chapter Three
Seishirou glanced up as the phone rang. He’d been having a singularly odd day. As if it wasn’t enough to be both told off and kissed by Subaru, the phone in his apartment was rarely used. Usually it was only the fax machine that got any calls. “Sakurazuka desu,” he said, picking it up.
“Hi,” Seimei said.
Seishirou blinked. “Sei-kun?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you calling me?” Seishirou asked, puzzled. Definitely an odd day.
“Well, I had some questions and we’re not going to see each other until Friday,” Seimei said.
“Is this about that girl in your school again?” Seishirou asked suspiciously.
“Indirectly,” Seimei admitted.
“I told you, I don’t know any more about that than you do,” Seishirou lied.
“I said it was indirectly,” Seimei said. “So, tell me about the Shinigami.”
Seishirou blinked, then sat down on his sofa with a sigh. “What do you know about the Shinigami and how did you find out?”
“I ate lunch with one of them.”
Seishirou nearly choked. His day was getting weirder and weirder. “I see,” he finally said. “Then you probably know plenty about them.”
“Well, tell me what you know.”
“They’re people who have died and come back to aid the JuohCho in the investigation of mysterious or untimely deaths,” Seishirou said. “They work with us on occasion, but more often they go through the Sumeragis rather than us.”
“Oh,” Seimei said. “Well, they want to know about Monou-san.”
“They’re not going to get any information from us,” Seishirou said, “given that we don’t know anything. Remember?”
“Right-o,” Seimei replied.
“Anything else?”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Why did you let me get shocked by it? He sat down right next to me.”
Seishirou shrugged. “It doesn’t come up very often,” he said. “Usually they’re more than capable of doing their work without any outside assistance. I personally have never met one, because they usually go through the Clan elders if they’re going to contact us at all. I didn’t think it really mattered.”
“Okay,” Seimei said. “I was hoping for something a little more in-depth, but . . .”
“Ask him, not me,” Seishirou said.
“He didn’t seem very forthcoming.”
“Hardly a surprise.”
“Okay. I’ll leave you alone now.”
“I’ll see you Friday.”
“Okay.”
~~~~
Fuuma was bored. Not ragingly bored like he’d been the other day. It was a ‘waiting by the phone’ type of bored. And that was possibly the worst type. He couldn’t even go anywhere in search of relief for his boredom, and thus had resorted to reading a book. Fortunately for him, Muraki was prompt.
“Moshi moshi,” Fuuma answered cheerfully.
“Is this Monou-san?”
Even over the phone, Fuuma immediately disliked Muraki. His voice just grated on his nerves; it was too low and too smooth.
“Yeah, it is. Muraki, right?”
“That’s correct. I hear you were interested in hiring me?”
“Yeah, I got this bioroid here, he’s sort of a clone of this kid who died and a combination of his father’s former body or . . . something like that, anyway, he requires some maintainence and I heard you’re the man to see.”
“Where’d you hear that?” Muraki asked.
“I have a computer genius at my disposal. Would you be interested?”
“I wouldn’t have called if I wasn’t interested,” Muraki replied.
“Well, hell then, let’s actually meet face to face,” Fuuma said. “I’m in City Hall -- ”
“I know where you are,” Muraki interrupted.
Fuuma paused. “Yeah? How do you know that?”
“You’re not the only one with a computer genius,” Muraki replied. “Just tell the guards to let me in.” He hung up without saying another word.
Fuuma decided he really didn’t like that idea very much, so he hung up and went upstairs to meet Muraki himself. It wasn’t hard to find him; the man stood out like a porn star in a seminary. Fuuma walked over and smiled charmingly. “Hey,” he said.
“You could’ve let me in,” Muraki said mildly.
“Didn’t feel like it,” Fuuma said, ignoring the appreciative glance that Muraki was giving him. Really, that was the last thing he needed. Best to establish this early on, anyway. “And I never do anything that I don’t feel like doing.”
Muraki gave him a cool glance. “All right. In that case, where would you like to have the discussion?”
“I’ll have Yuuto get us an office. I think he was working late tonight.” Fuuma suddenly glanced at the ceiling. “Satsuki, would you care to join us? I know you’re watching, and I might need your input.”
Muraki raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about it. He did, however, look slightly startled when Satsuki made her appearance. To his credit, he made no comment about her age. Also she was carrying was a cell phone.
“Yuuto is working tonight,” she confirmed by way of greeting.
“Let’s go find him then,” Fuuma said, not seeing any reason to make introductions. Since it was evening, there were plenty empty offices, and Yuuto quickly found them one to sit down in, without asking any questions.
“Satsuki, could you explain to Muraki-sensei exactly what Nataku is?” Fuuma asked. “’Cause I was sure as hell never clear on that. And I haven’t read the files on him either.”
Satsuki nodded and gave a brief, textbook description of who Nataku was and how it was created. Muraki listened in interest; he had heard about the project when it was first begun, but (unsurprisingly) had not been invited to join.
“So that’s the deal,” Fuuma said brightly. “We don’t want any experiments or anything, and if I catch you doing any I’ll kick your ass. Just . . . make sure he doesn’t fall apart or anything.”
“I have a question,” Muraki said. “Who are you and why are you running this show when you obviously don’t know what’s going on?”
Fuuma grinned. “I’m ‘Kamui’, and I’m in charge because I say so.”
Muraki considered this for a long moment. “All right,” he finally said. There was a brief discussion of payment, then he said, “I’ll need a lab to work in.”
Fuuma shrugged. “If there’s room for Beast, there’s room for a lab. You and Satsuki design it and I’ll see that it gets built.”
“Agreed.”
“You’ll have to meet Nataku, but . . . let’s not do that now. He’s still all tweaky about having blown up the last lab anyway.” Fuuma frowned.
Muraki raised an eyebrow. “He blew up the last lab?”
“Well, yeah, that’s why he needs a new one,” Fuuma said. “And why I hired you, seeing as his previous caretakers are all dead. Except for that one guy, but I don’t think he real inclined to work for me.”
“Why did he blow up the last lab?” Muraki asked.
“I dunno. I think he said they were mean to him.” Fuuma smiled cheerfully. “Let this be a lesson to you.”
“Duly noted.”
~~~~
Tsuzuki yawned and stretched, hanging up the nurse’s lab coat he’d been wearing all day. He didn’t really consider white to be his color. He straightened up his desk, then opened the door, nearly walking into Hisoka. He jumped backwards, startled, then smiled. “Hey, Hisoka. You startled me.”
Hisoka nodded. “Sorry.” He could practically feel Tsuzuki’s surprise, anyway. He was still somewhat twitchy and skittish after what had happened in Kyoto; Hisoka didn’t particularly blame him. Even though it was months ago, this was the first assignment they’d been put on. Hisoka was guessing Kachou had started them with this because it was a relatively simple case.
Then again, it was starting to look like it might not be anywhere near as simple as they’d thought it would be.
“You ready to go?” he asked, handing Tsuzuki his coat.
“Yeah, I was just leaving,” Tsuzuki said, looking at his coat and blinking as he realized he’d nearly left without it. He smiled. “I think I’d lose my head if it weren’t for you,” he said.
“Nah, that’s attached. Find out anything interesting today?”
“I learned that the previous nurse exploded,” Tsuzuki said.
Hisoka blinked. “Exploded? In a manner similar to, shall we say, Monou Kotori?”
Tsuzuki nodded. “According to what I read. Though it was more . . . um . . . exploded that that.”
“So why didn’t we get sent down for that?” Hisoka wondered, frowning.
Tsuzuki shrugged. “I assume because she was in the Kiseki and did what was appropriate. No matter how odd it seems.”
“It seems pretty odd, all right,” Hisoka replied, pinching his lower lip and thinking.
“Did you find out anything?” Tsuzuki asked.
“Quite a bit, none of it useful,” Hisoka said. “There’s a Sakurazuka here, he sits next to me in class. We saw through each other in about five seconds, so I explained why I was here to him. He said he would try to get more information for me.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess,” Tsuzuki said. “An actual clan member?”
Hisoka nodded. “To judge by the amount of magic he had, a fairly important one too. He’s still young, though.”
Tsuzuki grinned at him. “You seem like you like him.”
Hisoka shrugged. “He was nice.”
“Hisoka made a friend!! Waiiiiii~!” Tsuzuki bounced forward a few feet.
Hisoka turned red. “Ah, shuddup,” he muttered.
“Let’s go out to dinner!” Tsuzuki declared. “Can we? There’s this great place that serves this really great chocolate cake and -- ”
“Just as long as we only spend today’s allotment of money,” Hisoka said firmly. “I don’t wanna get yelled at by Tatsumi-san . . .”
“Awww . . .”
~~~~
Kamui wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but somehow he had wound up at Keiichi’s for dinner. Really, the blonde boy did everything so quickly that Kamui wasn’t sure he could be followed by the human eye. Nor could he be listened to by the human ear. Kamui had heard something like “heyshirou-kunwannacomeoverfordinner” at which point he’d given a rather dazed nod, and then gotten whisked away.
It had been more of a nod to indicate that he’d heard Keiichi speak, rather than to agree.
Still, he didn’t regret ending up at Keiichi’s for dinner. His mother was a great cook, far better than the meals that Sorata and Arashi threw together. And apparently Keiichi was winding down, which meant that he was only moving and speaking about three times as fast as a normal person.
Keiichi’s mother, for her part, was practically a carbon copy of her son. She moved and spoke just as quickly, with the exact same genki smile. Kamui could hear the Twilight Zone music coming on. It just couldn’t be right. To be technical, he supposed that Keiichi was a carbon copy of her, not the other way around. But he’d met Keiichi first, so he seemed like the original.
Still, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when Keiichi’s mother left the room, carrying a bowl of the food she’d made.
Keiichi caught Kamui’s questioning look. “She’s bringing it to Father,” he said, his face a bit more serious than usual.
Kamui blinked. “He doesn’t eat with you?” He paused to examine this statement. “Is he working? Or . . .” His voice trailed off.
“He’s dead,” Keiichi confirmed quietly, and went on to explain the earthquake he’d been killed in. Halfway through, he caught Kamui’s distressed look. “Sorry!” he apologized immediately. “Mother and I are fine now!”
Kamui stammered a little, letting Keiichi babble on. A few seconds later, his mother came back in and apologized for interrupting the meal. Then she, like pretty much everyone Kamui knew, started trying to get him to eat more.
He zoned out for a while, letting them ramble on cheerfully, thinking back to the earthquake. That had been Seishirou, he was fairly sure. He felt a sudden upsurge of anger that didn’t seem to matter in the face of how depressed he was.
I couldn’t save them, either . . .
After dinner, Keiichi offered to walk him to the station. Kamui accepted gratefully, though he was fairly sure he’d be all right on his own. Phenomenal cosmic power and all that. Still, though he would have rather stuck his tongue into a beehive than admitted it, he rather enjoyed Keiichi’s company.
“I’m sorry to have kept you so late,” Keiichi said ruefully as they walked down the crowded streets.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kamui said. “I’m grateful.” He said it purely out of polite reflex, then realized that he actually meant it. As was to be expected, his immediate reaction to this was to turn the color of a ripe tomato.
“Then come again!” Keiichi offered, bouncing a little. “Because I’m the only kid, mom’s glad when the house is more lively. What about you? You’re always hanging out with an upperclassman with spiky hair, a pretty woman with long hair, and a cute middle school kid. Are they relatives of yours?”
“Nope,” Kamui said, inwardly wondering how Keiichi possibly thought he might be related to Yuzuriha.
Keiichi went wide-eyed. “Siblings then?”
Kamui had to stifle a giggle. “Nah.”
“Oh.” Keiichi pondered these facts. “Friends?”
Kamui blinked, slightly startled. “I guess you could call them that,” he said with a slight shrug. He stared at the ground, considering this.
Keiichi smiled. “Well, if you aren’t related, and you all live together, and that makes you happy, doesn’t that make you friends?”
“Hadn’t really thought about it,” Kamui admitted. He lived with the others because they were his Seals, really. No other reason. He liked them all right, sure, but hadn’t really considered any of them friends until this moment.
Keiichi gave him a wide grin. “I want to be friends with Shirou-kun too.”
Kamui felt himself starting to blush, then saw the opportunity and found himself unable to pass it up. “Oh, so you want to move in with us?”
Now it was Keiichi’s turn to blush. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant . . .”
“Then what did you mean?” Kamui asked, still smiling slightly. It was fun to needle people. He hadn’t gotten much practice lately. And Keiichi was so cute when he blushed; that shade of pink suited him very nicely.
“Just that I want you to stop being so scared of me,” Keiichi said with a wink.
Kamui looked chagrined. “Who said I was afraid?”
“I dunno, maybe the fact that I could count the number of times you’ve spoken voluntarily tonight on an amputee’s fingers,” Keiichi replied.
Kamui wondered vaguely when he’d stopped needling Keiichi and Keiichi had started needling him. “But you’re so . . . genki. I wasn’t sure I could get a word in edgewise. You talk faster than is capable! Honestly, I think you’re an android.”
“Nah. I just got raised that way. You met my mother.”
“She’s an android.”
“What’s your thing with androids all of a sudden?”
Kamui shrugged. “I was trying valiantly to distract from the original topic.”
Keiichi laughed. The two of them had, at this point, reached the subway station. “Well, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, right?”
“Sure,” Kamui said, with a slight smile. “G’night.”
“Night!”
~~~~
Fuuma still wasn’t quite sure why Nataku had felt the need to blow up his home tube, so he was rather grateful that Muraki hadn’t pressed for more of an explanation. Really, Nataku just hadn’t liked them. And, well, the kid had a relatively short temper. Fuuma was a bit disappointed; he would have liked to come along on the outing. But Nataku had gone without him.
He knocked on the door of the room Nataku had been given, with Muraki in tow. Satsuki had gone off to pull up the blueprints from his old lab so Muraki could take a look at them. Fuuma, for his part, was creeped out by the situation in general and Muraki in particular.
For one thing, that man had one Fucked Up Wish.
Nataku opened the door. “Oh,” he said. “Hello, Daddy.”
Fuuma forced back a shudder. He was not the right age to be anyone’s father. He also noticed Muraki giving him a rather odd look.
Nataku’s room was bare except for a bed, desk, and chair. There were no spare clothes lying around. The only thing other than furniture were the books that other people had brought him. It was an interesting variety. Satsuki had been convinced to give him a few old computer manuals. Yuuto had thoughtfully brought in some children’s books. Fuuma, with nothing better to supply, had given Nataku his old manga collection.
One of the computer manuals was lying open on the bed, so Fuuma could only assume that he’d been reading it. “Hey, Kazuki. Mind if we come in for a few minutes? I’ve got someone you need to meet.”
“Okay.” Nataku stepped back, eyeballing Muraki with an air of distrust.
Muraki was eyeing him right back with interest. There were very few succesful cloning experiments around, and it was rather fascinating to be brought face-to-face with one of the few.
“This is Muraki-sensei,” Fuuma said. “Muraki, this is Nataku.”
Nataku executed a brief bow. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Muraki glanced at Fuuma. “Is his name Nataku or Kazuki?”
“Nataku,” Fuuma said firmly. “Kazuki is just a little pet name that I have for him. I advise you to treat him well.”
Muraki looked back at Nataku, surveying him carefully. “He seems to be in good condition.”
“I know that,” Fuuma said impatiently. “And I’d like to keep him that way. That’s why I brought you here.”
Muraki nodded. “I know.”
Nataku looked back and forth between the two of them uneasily.
“Well,” Fuuma said brightly. “Unless there’s anything else you need, you can go talk to Satsuki about the lab now.”
“Lab?” Nataku asked nervously.
Fuuma shot Muraki a glance. Muraki smiled his extremely creepy smile, bowed slightly, and left the room.
“Hey, it’s no biggie,” Fuuma said to Nataku. “We just don’t want you wearing out on us or anything. I mean, they had you in that tube for a reason. So I got Muraki to consult with and maybe one or two nights a week you’ll go in your little tube for maintainence and it’ll be good. Okay?”
“I don’t like it,” Nataku stated.
“Yeah, I know you don’t,” Fuuma said sympathetically. “But I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“It was lonely,” Nataku said.
Why this had caused him to kill everyone was beyond Fuuma. “It’s only for a couple nights a week,” he said reassuringly. “The rest of the time you’ll sleep in a bed like the rest of us.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise. What do you think of Muraki?”
“I don’t like him. He has a funny eye.”
Fuuma bit his lip to avoid laughing. He’d noticed Muraki’s ‘funny eye’ -- it was almost impossible not to -- but had thought it best to not bring it up. “Yeah, I know. I’m not too fond of him either. But you won’t have to see him very often.”
“Promise he won’t hurt me?”
“Promise. And I’d kick his ass anyway.”
“Okay.” Nataku looked dejected.
“Hey, cheer up. I’ll take you out for ice cream tomorrow, how’s that.”
“Okay,” Nataku repeated, apparently satisfied with this compromise.
Fuuma reached out and ruffled his hair. “Night then.”
“Good night.”
~~~~
Subaru reflected as he pulled on his clothes that his life was really quite boring. He performed the same routine every morning, went out and worked on whatever job was required of him, then came home, read, and went to bed. Lately, the jobs had all been going to other members of the family, thus freeing his schedule to be a Seal. The problem was, Kamui was at school for the majority of the day, so unless something came up, this left his hours very empty.
That, more than anything, was the reason that he had taken up tutoring Kamui. It wasn’t the most fun thing in the world, but at least it gave him something to do.
He meditated every morning on the meanings of peace, love, and life. He usually got sick of that after about thirty seconds. It was all a lie anyway. Unfortunately, meditation honed his skills, so he was forced to meditate on other things.
Such as how much his life sucked.
And on this particular morning, how much he really would have liked to beat Seishirou’s head in. If, that was, he could ever get the guts.
Still, this was a particular day, so at least he had something to do. He gathered himself together and left his apartment. After a brief stop at the florist, he was on his way to the cemetery where Hokuto was buried. At least, he assumed she was buried there. He hadn’t really been in the real world at the time of her death or her subsequent funeral, so he wasn’t positive that her body had been recovered. But this was where her headstone was, so he considered it where she was buried.
“Ohayo, Hokuto-chan.” He knelt and placed the flowers at the grave. Gladiolas. She’d always been particularly partial to those. “Don’t know why I keep coming here, after all this time.” It had been nine years since she had died. To the day.
He continued to kneel there, with one hand on her headstone. “You’re not even really here. I just think I need somebody to talk to. And your headstone is better than nothing.” He reflected for a minute on the utter patheticness of that statement before moving on. “Why does life have to suck so much? I just don’t get it. It was all going so well . . . you know, for a few years . . . and then for a year it was just perfect . . . and the next thing I know, the love of my life kills my sister and rips out my heart. Figures.”
He didn’t cry. He never did, not anymore. Any tears that he had shed, either for Hokuto, for Seishirou, or for himself, had all dried up a long time ago.
“Ohayo, Subaru-kun.”
Subaru spun around to see Seishirou standing a few feet away, holding a large bunch of cala lilies. “Hello, Seishirou-san.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Seishirou said with a polite smile. “I usually manage to avoid you.”
“You lie like a rug,” Subaru stated.
“God’s honest truth,” Seishirou said. “I’ve come here every year, same as you. Have you ever seen me here before?”
“In all honesty, no, but you knew I’d be here. Because you know I’ve come every year.”
Seishirou checked his watch. “You’re late,” he stated. “Every year, you have come at precisely ten o’clock, and left after about a half an hour. Now it’s almost noon. I meant to avoid you. You were late.”
“For starters,” Subaru said, “I’m sorry I disrupted your precious schedule. It’s good to know that you still pay attention to me. And secondly, it’s my sister’s grave. I’m not late. I can come whenever I choose. And as her murderer, you are interrupting.”
Seishirou stepped over and set down the lilies, then smiled benevolently. “I’m not allowed to come pay my respects?”
“You would be welcome to,” Subaru replied, “if you had respect for anyone.”
“That’s not terribly fair, Subaru-kun,” Seishirou said. “If I had no respect for either of you, I wouldn’t have spent as much time on you as I did.”
“That wasn’t respect,” Subaru snapped. “It was indulgence on your part. And I don’t have to be fair!”
Seishirou smiled. “I don’t indulge just anybody, you know.”
“No. You only indulge yourself.”
Seishirou still smiled, apparently unfazed by this. It annoyed Subaru terribly. Even when he got the upper hand in their arguments, Seishirou never seemed to care. He just always stood there with that same fake smile. It made him want to wipe it right off his face. “Subaru-kun, you say that like it’s a bad thing.”
That was it. Subaru smiled back, drew back a fist, and punched Seishirou squarely in the jaw. Seishirou was not at all taken off guard, but he made no attempt to block it or dodge. Subaru backed away a few steps, satisfied, as Seishirou stumbled backwards.
Seishirou straightened up, rubbing his jaw. “I’m impressed. You’ve gotten a lot stronger.”
“I’m disappointed. I didn’t break your jaw.”
Seishirou took a few steps forward, backing Subaru up against Hokuto’s gravestone. “Maybe I want to use my jaw for other things.”
“You most likely do.” Subaru took a step around Hokuto’s gravestone, still backing up.
Seishirou took a few large steps, getting an arm around Subaru’s waist and pulling him close. “Subaru-kun, I get the feeling that you don’t like me anymore.”
“I don’t like you at all,” Subaru replied, not flinching.
Seishirou leaned very close. “Then why, when we fight, do you not actually try to hurt me?”
Subaru shrugged. “That’s none of your business.”
Seishirou laughed and released him. “Sure it isn’t, Subaru-kun. You go on telling yourself that.”
“I think I will. Thanks.” Subaru turned and began to walk away. “Have fun talking to Hokuto’s empty grave.”
“I’ll be sure to.”
~~~~
Chapter Four
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