Chapter Thirty-Five
Hisoka spent the rest of the day in a valiant attempt to distract Tsuzuki by dragging him wherever he thought might catch the other man’s interest. Tsuzuki went along with it, mostly to make Hisoka feel better, but also because he needed the excuse to not wallow.
Hisoka made him go to bed around midnight, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to suggest it himself, and curled up in bed next to him. It was a long time before Hisoka fell asleep, and Tsuzuki didn’t sleep at all.
“So, uhm . . .” Hisoka said, the next morning at breakfast, “what are you going to do?”
“I have no idea,” Tsuzuki stated simply.
“Oh,” Hisoka said. “I suppose I can’t come.”
“Don’t think it would be a good idea.” Tsuzuki shook his head slightly.
“Well, I want to wait as close as I can,” Hisoka said, looking stubborn, like he expected Tsuzuki to try to talk him out of it.
“I’d appreciate that,” Tsuzuki said.
It was a long morning. Eventually, they went to Chijou. Tsuzuki used his Shiki to find Takeshi, and followed it to an apartment complex in downtown Tokyo. He stopped outside, looking up at the building.
“Do you know which apartment?” Hisoka asked. It was five minutes to noon.
“I’ll find it.”
“Should I come inside with you, or wait out here?”
“Wait out here. Please.”
“Okay.” Hisoka squeezed his hand. “Be . . . be okay, Tsuzuki. All right?”
“I’ll try.” Tsuzuki turned and went inside the building.
~~~~
“It’s five of noon,” Seishirou announced, checking his watch. Tsuzuki had called and told him where they were; they had settled on the roof of the building next door. They could see the room that Takeshi occupied quite clearly, though they couldn’t see inside. “I hate to admit this, but I’m nervous.”
“You get used to it,” Subaru said, flipping through a stack of ofuda.
“I hope so.” Seishirou gave him a hug. Then, for good measure, gave Seimei a hug too. “Let’s just hope we don’t die.”
“Nobody’s gonna -- ” Seimei paused and realized that statement was inaccurate. Takeshi was, in fact, going to die. “We’re not going to die.”
“Hai, hai.” Seishirou rolled his eyes. “Just put your wards up, Sei-kun.”
“Yes sir.” Seimei saluted, and went about his business.
~~~~
Tsuzuki stopped outside the door to Takeshi’s apartment and took a few deep breaths. He dispelled the wards with a wave of his hand, then knocked quietly. There was a long pause before the door opened and Takeshi peered out. His face split into a smile when he saw Tsuzuki. “Asato,” he said, his voice pleasant. “Come in.” He stood back to let the Shinigami into the apartment.
Tsuzuki went in, not bothering to look happy or try to lie. He shut the door behind him.
Takeshi saw the expression on his face. He kept his own carefully neutral, turning to him. “What brings you here?” From his voice, it was obvious that he knew it was not a mere social call. Of course, it helped that Tsuzuki had taken his wards down before entering.
“You,” Tsuzuki said. That was all he could manage.
Takeshi raised an eyebrow at him, obviously inviting further explanation. It was now exactly noon. Seishirou had told Tsuzuki that the spell would take about fifteen minutes to complete, and it would be about ten before Takeshi noticed it.
Subaru had also told him that if he could get Takeshi to stop what he was doing within the first ten minutes, the spell would still be reversible.
“I’m asking you to stop,” Tsuzuki said quietly. “I want the world to continue.”
“I know what you want, Asato,” Takeshi said, his voice just as soft. “Don’t you remember? I can see what you Wish for.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Because I didn’t spend eighty years suffering for what I had done to come back and watch you be happy with someone else,” Takeshi said, his voice strained. “I did that for you, Asato. I did that so we could be happy together. You say that me being here isn’t right? No. This is what’s not right. You . . . you and him together. That isn’t right.”
“I’m sorry,” Tsuzuki said. “I can’t change what I am or what I want. I tried the first time. I can’t be happy knowing this is going to happen. If it did happen . . . I . . . there’s no way to make me happy with this.” He surreptitiously checked his watch. Eight minutes before he had to give up on talking Takeshi out of it.
Takeshi’s fists clenched. When he spoke again, his voice was so soft it was barely audible. “I just . . . want this to end.”
Tsuzuki reached out and took Takeshi’s hands in his own. “This?”
“This, everything . . .” Takeshi pulled his hands away. “I want everything to end. All the injustice and all the pain and fear . . . I want to stop it all.”
“This isn’t the way to do it,” Tsuzuki said. “You did what you thought was right. But now it’s time to let other people do what they think is right, because if you take their choices away, that’s just more injustice.”
“Like you had a choice?” Takeshi snapped.
“I did,” Tsuzuki said. “I did what I thought was right. It wasn’t easy and I didn’t like it, and now I’m not interfering with what Kamui and Fuuma are doing. It’s not my place.”
“You don’t understand.” Takeshi shook his head. “You never understood.”
“You’re right. I don’t. There’s a whole lot of things that I just don’t understand, there’s a whole lot of things that nobody understands.” Six minutes left. Tsuzuki put his hands in his pockets so Takeshi wouldn’t see them shaking.
“I love you,” Takeshi said.
“I love you too,” Tsuzuki said. “But there’s no way to make this work.”
“Because you won’t try,” Takeshi said harshly.
“It’s not that I won’t try, but that we want totally different things now.” Tsuzuki sighed softly. “And I can’t change your mind, or at least I don’t think I can, and you can’t change mine.”
“And if I did?” Takeshi challenged. “If I took all this back and promised that I wouldn’t hurt anyone, wouldn’t try to end the world? Would it work then? Or would you go back to your green-eyed friend?”
“It depends on what you would want from me,” Tsuzuki said.
“That’s all I would want,” Takeshi said. “You. To love me again. To . . . be with me again. To be mine. The way you were before all this happened.”
Tsuzuki pondered his answer for a long minute. “I would still love you,” he said. “I have always loved you and always will. But I can’t be with you. And neither of us can go back to the way it was. We’re not the same people.”
“Then how can you ask why I want to destroy the world?” Takeshi whispered. “I have nothing without you.”
“We can’t go back to the way things were,” Tsuzuki said. Four minutes left. “But I can still be here for you. You have an entire lifetime ahead of you . . . that’s something to look forward to.” Against his better judgment, he reached out and drew Takeshi into a hug.
“I can’t,” Takeshi said, clinging to him. “I can’t be without you. I don’t know how.”
“I promise I won’t abandon you,” Tsuzuki said, holding him tightly. “You can learn. Everyone can learn. You’ll have time.” Three minutes left. Tsuzuki was trying not to hyperventilate.
“I don’t want you as a friend, Tsuzuki,” Takeshi said softly. “That’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”
“I know you don’t want to,” Tsuzuki said. “But I think you could. And I think that someday, if you give it time, it will be enough.”
Takeshi shook his head. “It won’t work. If for no other reason . . . it’ll ruin what you have with Hisoka. No, don’t deny it. I’m right, and you know it. His self-esteem is so low that even this . . . even your friendship with me . . . would be too much for him.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Tsuzuki said. “I don’t want to hurt Hisoka, but I don’t want to lose you, either.”
Takeshi was quiet for a long minute. “They’re killing me, aren’t they,” he said, his voice distant. “I can feel it . . . my soul pulling away.”
“You still have time to change your mind.” Tsuzuki didn’t want to mention it was only a couple minutes.
Takeshi shook his head. “No. Maybe . . . maybe this is the right way for it to be. You said it yourself . . . I’m not supposed to be here.”
“I don’t know which way it’s supposed to be,” Tsuzuki said. “I’m sorry.”
Takeshi closed his eyes and rested his head on Tsuzuki’s shoulder. “How long . . .?”
“A few minutes before it’s over,” Tsuzuki said. “And even less to change your mind.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.” Takeshi wrapped his arms around Tsuzuki’s waist. “You’ll be better off without me.”
Tsuzuki just held him. There was nothing he could say.
A few minutes of silence passed. Takeshi began to shiver. “Tell . . . tell Hisoka that I said I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Tell everyone that.”
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Tsuzuki said. “You did what you thought was right.”
Takeshi laughed slightly. “Even now, you’re trying to make me feel better.”
“It’s in my nature.”
“I know.” Takeshi shuddered. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Don’t let go.”
“I won’t.”
~~~~
Hisoka was leaning against the wall of the building, his eyes closed, the whole time. He was concentrating his empathy on Takeshi, for two important reasons. The first was that he wanted to know when it was over, so he could go get Tsuzuki. The second was, if Takeshi truly changed his mind, Hisoka was the one who had to go make sure Subaru and Seishirou stopped what they were doing.
He felt the succession of Takeshi’s emotions: surprise, anger, hurt, fear. He could feel that Takeshi had come to a decision, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that he had simply decided to die. Hisoka pressed both his hands against his face, not wanting to feel it, but not wanting to pull away. He could feel the spell concluding, and Takeshi’s soul starting to pull away.
And then it was over, and Takeshi was gone, but for just one brief second, he thought he felt --
he didn’t know exactly what it was, but --
surprise, then bewilderment, then an overwhelming tide of joy and love that quieted down within a second to forgiveness, understanding, and peace.
Hisoka opened his eyes and realized that he was on the ground. He took a few shaking breaths, trying to collect himself. He wanted badly to tell Tsuzuki what he’d felt . . . but no. Not until he’d checked with Tatsumi to make sure he hadn’t imagined it. Tsuzuki’s pain and guilt were drawing him like a beacon. He practically ran up the stairs and into Takeshi’s apartment, where Tsuzuki was cradling his body in his arms.
“Tsuzuki . . .” That was all he could say. He walked over and put a hand on Tsuzuki’s shoulder, letting him know that he was there, if Tsuzuki needed anything from him. He didn’t want to interrupt.
Tsuzuki made no move to acknowledge Hisoka’s presence. He buried his face in Takeshi’s hair and began to cry.
Hisoka stood frozen in indecision for a long minute, before sitting behind Tsuzuki and putting his arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. It took Tsuzuki a few minutes to regain control over himself. “What am I going to do with his body?” he asked nobody, his voice trembling. “I can’t just leave him here . . .”
“Let’s just bring it to the Meifu,” Hisoka said. “We can . . . bury it . . . or something.” His voice cracked.
“I want him to have a proper funeral,” Tsuzuki said softly.
“We can do that,” Hisoka said, still clinging to him.
“Thank you,” Tsuzuki said.
Hisoka’s cell phone rang. He cursed vehemently, then let Tsuzuki go and answered it. “What?”
“It’s me,” Seimei said. “How are things?”
“Things royally suck. How are things on your end?”
“Limp.” Seimei looked around. Both Subaru and Seishirou were lying on their backs, staring up at the sky. “Dad and Subaru-san are, uh, useless.”
Hisoka forced himself to think clearly. “Can you get them home all right?”
“Yes, that’s not a problem,” Seimei said. He had already called Senichi to come pick them up. And, well, help him get the two of them off the roof. He suspected they’d be able to walk if they really put their minds to it, but they didn’t look like that was going to happen any time soon. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Hisoka bit back any sarcastic comments he might have made. “No,” he finally said. “No, I don’t think so. I’m going to try to get Tsuzuki home. Maybe get him drunk.”
Seimei wanted to know exactly what had happened. Seishirou had mentioned, before falling over, that it seemed extremely odd that Takeshi hadn’t fought back in the slightest. However, he could tell from the tone of Hisoka’s voice that questions would be both unwelcome and in extremely bad taste. “That sounds like a good plan,” he finally said. “Give me a call when things have settled down, or if you need something.”
“Aa.” Hisoka hung up the phone without saying another word. He knelt next to Tsuzuki. “You want to go home?” he asked.
Tsuzuki nodded.
~~~~
Fuuma looked up as the phone in his room rang. He wasn’t accustomed to getting calls. In fact, he thought this was probably the first time it had happened since he’d gotten to the hospital. He couldn’t reach it, so he was lucky that Nataku and Kakyou were both there. Kakyou reached over and picked it up. “Moshi moshi,” he said.
“Kakyou? It’s Seishirou. Is Fuuma awake?”
Kakyou thought that Seishirou sounded rather tired and fuzzy around the edges. He decided not to torture the man. “Yes, here he is.” He handed Fuuma the phone.
“Yo,” Fuuma said.
“It’s Seishirou.”
“So I gathered from Kakyou’s look of distaste. What’s up?”
Kakyou looked indignant at this.
“I thought someone should probably tell you that we took care of Takeshi without any problems except Tsuzuki’s large-scale nervous breakdown. How was your day?”
“Peachy. So he’s gone? Like, gone gone?”
“As gone as he could get,” Seishirou confirmed. “I’m sure Hisoka will confirm it later today.”
“Cool,” Fuuma said. “I take it Tsuzuki’s freaking out?”
Seishirou sighed slightly. “As always, your eloquence astonishes me.”
“Hey, it astonishes me, too. You sound like shit.”
“Well, it was one of the most complicated onmyoujitsu spells out there,” Seishirou said dryly, “especially when you take into account that I had to synchronize it with Subaru-kun’s equally difficult spell.”
Fuuma coughed. “You’re the man, Seishirou.”
“I hate you, you little prick.” Seishirou hung up.
Fuuma handed the phone back to Kakyou. “I don’t think Seishirou likes me very much, ya know?”
“Why would that be?” Kakyou asked, raising an elegant eyebrow.
“Maybe because he said he hates me.”
“Ah.”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m rather impressed that they got rid of Takeshi. Wasn’t like I was having much luck in that department. But he’s still an arrogant bastard, and lord is he ever fun to tease.”
“It takes one to know one.”
“Love you too.”
~~~~
The Seals had gathered in Sorata’s hospital room to wait to hear back from Subaru on what had happened. Sorata still wasn’t exactly up to par, but he was scheduled to be out of the hospital by the end of that week. Everyone jumped a foot in the air when his phone rang, then Kamui snatched it. “Subaru?”
“I think so.” Subaru’s voice, like Seishirou’s, was foggy with exhaustion.
“How did it go?”
“Well . . . um . . . well, Takeshi’s gone. There were no explosions!”
“Um, that’s good,” Kamui said nervously. “Are Tsuzuki and Hisoka okay?”
“I’m guessing Tsuzuki’s not, from Seimei’s reaction to talking to Hisoka on the phone . . . you know, that made no sense.”
“Go to bed, Subaru.”
“Right. G’night.” Subaru hung up the phone without another word.
Kamui put down the phone and turned to the others, after giving the phone a rather funny look. Subaru not only got loquacious when he was tired, he also got bizarre. “Takeshi is no longer a problem,” he stated. “And there are no big craters anywhere in the city.”
“As a result of this, you mean,” Arashi said dryly.
“Well, naturally.”
~~~~
“So . . .” Teiji glanced around the apartment. “Seishirou-san and Subaru-san are sleeping. Misako-san is out torturing her editor and will probably be hours. And my dad went back home, leaving us here . . . allllll by ourselves.” He turned to Seimei with a smirk. They were both sitting on the couch in the living room.
Seimei smiled. “What should we do with our newfound solitude?”
Teiji put an arm around his waist and kissed him. Seimei was more than pleased to return it.
“Yeah, that’s what I had in mind,” he said, when Teiji came up for air.
“Is that all you had in mind?” Teiji asked, with his usual devilish grin.
“Well, no . . .” Seimei firmly pushed him down on the sofa, going in for another kiss.
“Ooh, feisty.” Teiji wrapped his arms around Seimei’s waist, pulling him closer. “Just the way I like it.”
Seimei just laughed and continued to kiss him.
“You know,” Teiji said, when the kiss was over (or at least had come to a pause), “When you were . . . uh . . . kidnapped . . . I was really worried. And Seishirou-san told us what Muraki was like . . . I was scared of what he would do to you.”
“It made me really leery of large, creepy men,” Seimei confirmed. “You’re not creepy. And my own age.” He paused. “And I think you’re hot.”
Teiji laughed. “I just wanted to make sure. I don’t know anything about traumatized people.”
“I think it has to do with how bad things actually got,” Seimei said. “I’m not that traumatized, but nothing too horribly bad happened. Okay, I was scared at the time.”
“Well, I didn’t know how much happened the . . . the second time. Or if anything happened at all, for that matter.”
“Remarkably, less than happened the first time.”
“Okay.” Teiji sat up. Being on a couch, it was far easier to flip-flop in order to change positions than to roll. He continued sitting until Seimei was also sitting up, then pushed him back over. “Feisty or not, I think it’s more fun this way.”
“Yeah, okay,” Seimei said, putting one hand on the back of Teiji’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss.
It was about five minutes later that they heard footsteps. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to separate in time to prevent Seishirou from seeing what they were doing. He stopped in the door to the living room, raising an eyebrow at them.
Seimei blinked at him from where he was pinned beneath Teiji. “Uh, hi Dad. Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I think it has something to do with brain waves,” Seishirou said dryly.
“You have brain waves when you’re asleep, too . . .”
“I came out for a mug of tea,” Seishirou said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He walked out of the room and into the kitchen, taking an inordinate amount of time to get his tea, hoping it would make Seimei nervous. He really enjoyed torturing his son.
“Should we be embarrassed?” Teiji muttered, not moving from where he was. “Or should we continue?”
“Why is it taking him so long to get tea?” Seimei wondered aloud.
“Because he’s a weirdo?” Teiji suggested.
“That doesn’t usually mean he needs to take a long time to get -- mmph.” Seimei’s words were cut off as Teiji kissed him again.
It was another minute before Seishirou walked in and cleared his throat.
“Yes?” Seimei asked, looking up.
Much to their chagrin, Seishirou took a seat, smiling benevolently at them. “So how long has this been going on?”
“Eight minutes?” Seimei guessed.
“I meant in general.” Seishirou sipped his tea.
“Longer?”
“How much longer?”
“I thought you didn’t mean to interrupt,” Seimei protested.
Seishirou smiled again. “By all means, go ahead.”
Seimei looked around for something to lob at his father. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find anything. “We can’t kiss with you watching.”
Seishirou shrugged. “That isn’t my fault, nor is it my problem.”
“Do I need to just go to my room?”
“You could, I suppose, but then you wouldn’t hear the door when Misako got home, and if she walked in on you, she’d throw a far bigger fit than me. Thus you choosing to make out here rather than in your room in the first place, or so I would assume.”
“Daaaaad . . .” Seimei wilted.
Seishirou continued to sip his tea. “It’s my house too. I’m allowed to sit here and drink my tea, right?”
“That’s it!” Seimei sat up, pushing Teiji off him, and marched over to Seishirou. He snatched the mug and put it in the kitchen. “You are done with your tea,” he announced. “If you aren’t done with your tea, you can take it back to your bedroom, because it’s my house too and I was here first.”
Seishirou blinked at him. His lips started to twitch.
“Oh, go ahead, laugh.”
“You are fully aware that I was just doing this to torture you, right?”
“Don’t make me dump the tea over your head, Dad.”
“But then I’d have to make another mug,” Seishirou said innocently.
“Dad . . .” Seimei’s voice warned of imminent murder.
Seishirou laughed, reached out, and tousled his hair. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” he said. “That leaves you a world of options.” He paused. “Actually, I would never have dared have sex on my mother’s couch. Then again, she was a bit more formidable than your mother . . .”
“What’s wrong with you?” Seimei protested. “We’re not going to have sex! We were kissing!”
“While lying down on a couch, one person firmly on top of the other.”
“With our clothes on.”
“That could have been remedied in about three minutes.”
“With my mother who could come in any minute.”
Seishirou snorted. “And you obviously weren’t paying enough attention to get your clothes back on before she saw you, either.”
“Get out!” Seimei said, and started pushing Seishirou towards his room.
Seishirou picked up his tea, looking as dignified as was possible under the circumstances. “Have a good time, Sei-kun.”
“Don’t make me poison your breakfast.”
“I’ll switch plates with you. Oyasumi!” Seishirou disappeared into his bedroom.
Seimei flopped to the floor. “Why must my family be so strange?” he asked the ceiling.
“I’m over here,” Teiji reminded him.
“Well, come get me.”
~~~~
“How’s Tsuzuki-san?” Tatsumi asked, toeing off his shoes as Hisoka stood back to let him in.
“For lack of anything better to do with him, I got him totally plastered,” Hisoka said wearily. “He passed out about a half hour ago. You made sure the . . . the body got to the shrine okay?”
Tatsumi nodded slightly. “Has Tsuzuki-san decided what he wants to do?”
“Aa.” Hisoka led Tatsumi into the kitchen and gave him a mug of coffee, then thudded into a chair. “He said he wants to cremate him and scatter the ashes from Tokyo Tower. I said sure, what the hell.”
Tatsumi raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”
“Yeah. He was so drunk I could’ve suggested he summon up Suzaku to do the cremation and he wouldn’t have cared.”
Tatsumi sighed slightly. “I take it you’ve been drinking too.”
Hisoka gave him a look. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Most likely.”
“God . . .” Hisoka slumped forward, rubbing his palms over his face. “I felt it, Tatsumi-san. What it was like for Takeshi. I had to be there empathically so I could be sure everything was going all right, and . . .” He shuddered slightly. “It was like dying again.” He laughed harshly. “Well, I suppose it was.” He looked up at Tatsumi, sudden hope in his eyes. “Did you check? To see where he ended up?”
Tatsumi nodded. “That was a truly selfless act that he did,” he said softly. “Sacrificing himself for Tsuzuki-san’s happiness.”
“Then he is . . .?”
He nodded again.
Hisoka drooped forward onto the table. “Aa. I felt that too. I’m glad . . . it will help Tsuzuki to know that he’s truly at peace now.”
“But?” Tatsumi prompted, hearing the hesitation in Hisoka’s voice.
Hisoka smiled slightly. “Just makes me think about what we’re all missing, that’s all. But I’m happy here . . . or will be, once I get Tsuzuki back on his feet.”
“You really are helping,” Tatsumi said. “Just in the two years that you’ve been here, I’ve watched him get better. You give him confidence in himself . . . I think it’s something he’s never had before.”
Hisoka managed a smile. “I know. I just keep hoping someday he’ll be all right, and that’s about all I can do.”
Tatsumi nodded slightly. Then he sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Where’d you say that liquor was?”
“I didn’t. Let me get you a glass.”
~~~~
The ride up to the top of Tokyo Tower passed in silence. It was late at night the next day (Tsuzuki having spent all morning in bed with his hangover, and Hisoka wasn’t doing too great either) to avoid crowds of people. Tsuzuki was carrying a carved wooden box in one hand. Hisoka wanted badly to reach out and touch him, but wasn’t sure whether or not it would be welcomed.
He stood in silence while Tsuzuki shook the ashes out over the side of the tower, watching them scatter in the wind. Tsuzuki stood there for a long minute afterwards, then closed the box and turned around. He reached out for Hisoka’s hand. “Let’s go home.”
“One thing first.” Hisoka took his hand and moved a few steps closer. “Takeshi . . .” He had to swallow hard, to get rid of the lump in his throat. “Takeshi’s death was judged as a truly selfless act.”
Tsuzuki blinked at him. “Uhm . . . you mean he . . .”
“I felt it.” Hisoka smiled, though tears were running down his cheeks. “I felt him get into Heaven. I wanted to share that with you.”
“Thank you,” Tsuzuki whispered.
Hisoka squeezed his hand reassuringly, and let down his shields, letting Tsuzuki feel what he had felt. He skipped Takeshi’s surprise and let Tsuzuki feel only the joy and the peace that he had felt. Then he gently closed off his mind.
Tsuzuki closed his eyes, tilting his head to the sky, trying to keep the emotions alive inside him for as long as was possible. Then he began to cry. Hisoka drew him into an embrace and the two of them sank to the floor, clinging to each other.
When they finally stopped crying, there was a long minute of silence as they held each other. “C’mon,” Tsuzuki finally said, rubbing his eyes. “Let’s go.”
Hisoka nodded. “Aa.”
~~~~
Seimei walked into the living room, where Seishirou was comfortably slouched into the armchair, and stopped dead. “Where did that shirt come from?” he asked, staring. “And whose sick idea was it?”
Seishirou smirked. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt that said, in black letters, ‘It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye.’ “What, this thing?” he asked, still smirking. “Fuuma gave it to me. Subaru-kun has one too. The back of his says ‘then it’s just fun.’ Want to see the back of mine?”
“Sure,” Seimei said, though he wasn’t sure at all.
Seishirou stood and turned around. The back of the shirt said, ‘Then it’s just games: Find the eye!’
Seimei blinked. Then shook his head. He opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again. “No, I’ve got nothing.”
Seishirou sat down again, looking inordinately pleased with himself. “Don’t you like it?”
“Dad, you’re strange.”
~~~~
“So let me get this straight,” Seishirou said. “Why am I going to a Clan dinner tonight?”
“Because you’re the Clan Head,” Subaru said.
“And why are you coming to a Clan dinner tonight?”
“Because I’m the Clan Head’s significant other,” Subaru said, sounding a little less patient.
Seishirou considered this for a minute.
“Because if I didn’t go, there would be nobody to drag you,” Subaru added dryly.
“Oh, I don’t know. I think Sei-kun is fairly capable of dragging me.”
“Dragging you, no. Pushing you out of the living room, yes.”
Seishirou smirked. “You would have done the same thing as me if you’d walked in on them making out.”
“I have done remarkably the same as you,” Subaru said, thinking back to varying scenes with Kamui and Keiichi.
“Then let’s go and get this over with.”
“It’s not like you’re having your teeth pulled.”
Seishirou paused. “Is Meiri going to be there?”
“I have no idea. But I think at this point you’ve sufficiently cowed her, so it can’t matter that much.”
“Yes, it can,” Seishirou said. “All she has to do is look at me, and I end up feeling guilty.”
“If she looks at you funny, we’ll take her out back and have her shot.”
Seishirou blinked at him. “Subaru-kun, such violence in my name.”
“Makes you proud, doesn’t it.”
“Makes me more than that.” Seishirou pushed him up against the wall and kissed him.
Subaru returned the kiss, then squirmed free. “I’ll have to remember that next time we’re in bed together.”
“Yeah, I love it when you talk dirty.” Seishirou rolled his eyes.
“Just come on.”
“I’d much rather stay here with you . . .” Seishirou got him around the waist and tried to pull him back into the bedroom.
“Afterwards. If you can sit through this and be congenial, we can have all kinds of sex after that as a reward.”
Seishirou considered this. “Yeah, okay.” He held the front door open for Subaru. “You said that Sei-kun was over at Teiji’s and was going to meet us there, right?”
“Yep.” In truth, everyone else had been told seven. Only Seishirou had been told seven thirty. They wanted to make sure even the latecomers got there before Seishirou. Seimei had still insisted on no shouting, however. They walked hand-in-hand to the main house, about ten minutes away from Seishirou’s house, and went inside. Everyone was sitting at the table, quite sedately, as if it were a normal dinner. It was smaller than most of them, though. Chimori and his family were there, as was Senichi and his, Kaiji and his two children, Misako, and Atsuko.
Seishirou blinked at them. And at the large pile of presents at one end of the table.