Chapter Thirty-Six
“I can carry that, y’know,” Fuuma said, giving Kakyou a pointed look. The Dreamgazer was carrying the bag of things that he had brought; blankets and clothes, mostly. “And I still don’t see why they had to wheel me out of the hospital. I can walk fine!” At the moment, he wasn’t walking; they were in the elevator on the way up to their apartment.
“Insurance policies,” Kakyou said complacently.
“Yeah, okay. But I can still carry my own bag.” Fuuma tried to grab it from Kakyou’s hands.
“No.” Kakyou turned away, putting his body between Fuuma and the bag.
“Why not?” Fuuma whined.
“Because,” Kakyou said, “the doctor said you weren’t to be doing anything. No lifting at all for the next four days. No heavy lifting for at least a week and a half after that.”
“It’s not heavy!”
“In that case, you can carry it around all you want in four days,” Kakyou said. “It can be your constant companion.”
“You’re mean to me, Kyou-chan.” Fuuma pouted. “So what are we going to do tonight?”
“Well,” Kakyou said, “the way I see it, we can either watch a movie at home, or go out and watch a movie.”
“You’re not going to let me do jack, are you.”
“No.”
“I’m all better now!” Fuuma protested.
“No, you’re not. What do you want for dinner?” Kakyou took out the keys to the apartment and let them in.
“I dunno. Whatever you want to bother cooking.”
Kakyou put the bag in their bedroom. Nataku emerged from his bedroom, where he’d been reading. “You’re back!” he said, a smile lighting up his face.
“Yup,” Fuuma said. “You can’t get rid of me.”
“That’s good.” Nataku nodded and smiled. “Why would anyone want to get rid of you?”
“Ask Takeshi,” Fuuma said dryly.
“Yeah, but he was weird. He doesn’t count.”
Fuuma snorted, then followed Kakyou into the kitchen. He was getting things out to make dinner. “I’ll help,” Fuuma said immediately.
“Nope.” Kakyou shook his head.
“Come on,” Fuuma wheedled. “I can stand in front of a stove. I can mix. There’s no lifting in mixing.”
“There’s moving of shoulders and injured muscles. Go sit on the sofa. Bunny misses you; get Nataku to get him for you.”
“I can’t even get the rabbit myself?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?!”
“Because it’s lifting. Not only is it lifting, it’s bending.”
“You really hate me, don’t you.” Fuuma pouted again.
“Yes. My concern for your welfare is rooted in a deep and unabiding hatred for you.”
Fuuma gave him a look. “First you say I can’t have sex for at least a week. Now I can’t even help you cook dinner. Next thing I know, I’m gonna be sleeping on the sidewalk.”
“No, that definitely wouldn’t be good for you. You can get a chair and sit in here, if you find the rabbit unenthralling.”
“Nah, I’ll just go pout in the living room.” Fuuma sauntered out and flopped on the sofa. Flopping hurt. A lot. He made a mental note to not do any more flopping in the near future. Or even the far future.
Nataku placed the rabbit in his lap.
“Thanks,” Fuuma said, though he was unsure of whether or not he meant it. He hated being an invalid. It was bad enough where he was in the hospital, and got waited on hand and foot. Being in his own apartment and unable to do anything made him extremely uncomfortable.
“Bunny missed you,” Nataku said. “I missed you too.”
“Yeah, same here.” Fuuma watched as Nataku sat down to read in the armchair, apparently wanting to soak up Fuuma’s presence. Then he stood up. Nataku watched to see what Fuuma was going to do, but apparently seemed to think that walking was okay. Fuuma wandered into the kitchen.
“Yes?” Kakyou asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Fuuma stuck out his tongue. “I wanted a drink. Is that a crime?” He was still carrying the rabbit.
“You’re carrying things.”
“It’s a rabbit! He weighs a pound!”
“You’re only carrying him to be contrary.”
Fuuma looked shifty-eyed. “I think I can manage a rabbit from the couch to the kitchen and back.” He put the rabbit on the kitchen counter and reached up for a glass. He couldn’t hide a wince as the muscles on his back pulled as he opened the cupboard.
Kakyou looked at the rabbit and held back a comment about the sanitary practices going on here. He gently pushed Fuuma’s arm aside and got the glass, then handed it to him.
“Thanks,” Fuuma said with a grin, and went over to the fridge. He poured himself a glass of iced tea, then blinked between it and the rabbit, apparently trying to figure out how to carry both at the same time.
Kakyou picked up the glass. “Get the rabbit.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to carry it.”
“Are you trying to make me homicidal?”
“Nah, I’m just teasing.” Fuuma scooped up the rabbit and headed back towards the couch. He lowered himself onto it carefully, then stretched out with the rabbit on his stomach. Kakyou followed and put the glass down on the end table. “You do realize that the only way I’m going to survive being an invalid is if you pamper me, right?”
“Fuuma, I pamper you anyway.”
“Yeah, but not enough.”
“What do you want from me?”
“A kiss?” Fuuma blinked up at him innocently.
“I think I can manage that.”
~~~~
Subaru was sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea and reading the newspaper when an unexpected voice said, “Heyya,” and the Tree pulled out a chair across the table and sat down. Subaru blinked and looked around. Seimei was at school and Seishirou was out; he wasn’t sure how the Tree was even presenting itself.
“Uh,” he said, “how are you doing this?”
The Tree blinked innocently at him. “It’s an illusion.”
“Yes,” Subaru said. “I was aware of that. But I was under the impression that you could only react to the world when either Seimei or Seishirou was around.”
“It’s anyone that is close enough to the Tree for me to have access to the first layer of their thoughts,” the Tree replied. “You, my fine feathered Sumeragi, now qualify for that list.”
“How so?” Subaru asked, fascinated in spite of himself. “Is it because I’m close to Seishirou?”
The Tree gestured to Subaru’s hands. “Through those. It’s much easier now that you and Seishirou have come to an understanding.”
Subaru looked at his hands; more specifically, at the backs of them. The stars only showed up when Seishirou wanted them to. “Interesting,” he said. “So if you can get this close to me, why didn’t you just eat me all those years ago?”
The Tree sighed mournfully. “Misunderstood to the last,” it said.
“Unless you’re planning to get a terminal case of termites, this is hardly the last,” Subaru said dryly, folding up the newspaper and put it aside.
“I’m just anticipating my future,” the Tree said with a manic grin. “Anyway, I didn’t want to eat you, you numbskull. Oh, don’t get me wrong,” it added when it saw Subaru’s puzzled look, “you would’ve made a fine meal. That would’ve kept me up for weeks. But I’m never one to stop true love.”
“You and Seishirou weren’t doing a very good job of endearing yourselves to me,” Subaru said, glancing at it.
“How is that my fault?” the Tree asked indignantly.
“If anyone could have gotten through to that idiot, it would have been you,” Subaru said, his tone just slightly accusing.
“Correct. If anyone could have. But nobody could. Don’t think I didn’t try.”
“Is this a social call, or did he get himself in trouble?” Subaru asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“I guess you could call it social,” the Tree replied.
“Oh,” Subaru said. “I’d offer tea, but . . . why are you here?”
“Well, I thought you needed a well-placed lesson in the mechanics of soul-sucking,” the Tree replied, smiling angelically.
Subaru looked vaguely confused. “I’ll admit I’m baffled.”
“I wasn’t sure,” the Tree replied quietly, “if you had forgiven Seishirou for Hokuto.”
Subaru pondered that for a minute. “I’ve gotten over her death and I’ve forgiven him for killing her,” he said slowly. “Does that count?”
The Tree blinked at him. “What else is there?”
“I’ll go with it.”
“But, ah, in case you were wondering what happens to a soul fed to the Tree, I thought I would come here and enlighten you.”
“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” Subaru admitted. “Interests of tenuous sanity and all.”
“Ah, well, to begin with, Tsuzuki is a prime example.”
Subaru pressed one hand to his face. “I feel a headache coming on.”
“Quite obviously, his soul was not munched. See, it’s not the souls I feed on, it’s the psychic energy. Therefore, your sister was cheerfully seen off into her afterlife, though she was a touch grumpy at me for sucking all her power up, and made me promise to tell Seishirou he was a dickhead at least once a week. A promise I have faithfully kept.”
“That . . . sounds like Hokuto-chan,” Subaru finally said.
“Of course, she was probably also cranky at me for telling her what a dumbass she was for sacrificing herself, but I’ve never really minced words. You know, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Subaru blinked. “So . . . I’m not the only one who thought she was being weird? God, all these years I thought I was being a selfish bastard for being mad at her.”
The Tree rolled its eyes. “Commiserate with Kakyou sometime on that. He shares the sentiment. Anyway, I suppose it must have become a little clearer after you found out about her last spell, ne? I ripped her a new one for that. Seishirou didn’t need more excuses to act like an idiot.”
“I don’t even know where she got that spell,” Subaru said. “I bet my grandmother gave it to her.”
The Tree shrugged elegantly. “Anyway, so, she’s off . . . probably shopping or something like that.”
“Well . . . thank you for telling me,” Subaru said.
“I tried to get Seishirou to, but he’s too much of a wuss. He was afraid if he brought it up, you’d remember that you were mad at him for it.”
“It’s not worth it to be mad at him,” Subaru said. “At least about big things.”
The Tree raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“If I couldn’t get over it, I couldn’t be happy,” Subaru said.
“Ah, but you’re the one who was talking about doing things for yourself and for other people,” the Tree said. “Maybe, at least a little, you should forgive him for his sake, too.”
“I wouldn’t have forgiven him if I didn’t think he deserved forgiveness. That’s part of the reason I did it.”
“Just checking.” The Tree smiled. “He misses her, you know.”
“I missed them both.”
“Well, hell, one out of two ain’t bad,” the Tree said, standing up and then ruffling Subaru’s hair.
“Trust a walking topiary to sum up one’s twin sister as a statistic.”
The Tree shrugged. “Are you sorry about the way things turned out?”
“I wish we could have skipped some of the agony.”
“I guess,” the Tree said. “But some people have to hit rock bottom before they can start making their way back up.”
“Are you referring to him or me?”
The Tree grinned. “That, my fine feathered Sumeragi, is going to remain my little secret. Jaa ne.” And with that, he disappeared.
Subaru leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. “I give up.”
~~~~
All in all, it was a week before Kakyou judged that Fuuma was capable of going out to ‘celebrate’ his freedom from the hospital. Fuuma immediately decided to drag him clubbing. Hopefully, he said, this would culminate in more drunken sex. He was very fond of drunken sex, especially given that they hadn’t had any for over two weeks at this point.
“Careful drunken sex,” Kakyou corrected, but went along with the idea other than that.
~~~~
“Hey, Dad?” Seimei poked his head into the room where Seishirou was ‘helping’ Subaru make dinner. The two of them had barely managed to keep their hands off each other since their little vacation. Seimei didn’t want to ask. He figured it had been a really good vacation. Maybe ‘honeymoon’ would be a better term for it. “I’m going out.”
“Where, with who, and when will you be back?” Seishirou asked, actually looking away from Subaru for at least point three seconds.
“Clubbing, with Teiji, Kamui, and Keiichi,” Seimei said. “We’ll be back . . . before dawn.”
“Okay.” Seishirou paused. “Did you tell your mother? Because I’m sure as hell not.”
“Yes, I told Mom. I have my cell phone and everything.”
“Have fun, then. Wake me when you get in, no matter how late it is.”
“Okay.” Seimei bounced out of the house. He was a little leery of going into Seishirou and Subaru’s room, even if it was quiet and they’d obviously been asleep for quite a while. He was always afraid of catching them in some state of undress. Fortunately, Seishirou usually managed to pull the sheets over them before they fell asleep.
“You look good,” Teiji greeted him, giving his T-shirt and khakis a look.
“This is what I always wear,” Seimei reminded him.
“And you always look good.” Teiji gave him a quick kiss.
“Flatterer.” Seimei paused, then return the compliment. “You look good too.” Teiji was dressed in a similar outfit, though his T-shirt was tight and his jeans were more hole than cloth. “How’d you get out of the house in those jeans?”
“No one’s home,” Teiji said. “They all went to have dinner with . . . somebody. I dunno who. I can’t keep my relatives straight.”
“Are we meeting Keiichi and Kamui there?”
“Aa. Let’s go.”
~~~~
“I don’t think this can go well,” Keiichi said thoughtfully, giving the club a glance. “I mean, we’re already hornier than weasels, and now we’re subjecting ourselves to an evening of dancing and rubbing up against each other. This has disaster written all over it.”
“How can this go wrong?” Kamui asked, winking.
“Well, for one thing, I think your T-shirt is going to cut off circulation,” Keiichi said, giving the extremely tight black shirt consideration. “And I’m not sure there’s room in your jeans for my hands, so I can’t even give you a good grope when no one’s looking. I like your boots, though.”
“The pants are not as tight as they look,” Kamui informed him.
“Well, good.” Keiichi was also wearing jeans, though his were quite loose. With them he was wearing a white ribbed tank top, and a blue button down shirt over it. The buttons weren’t done, however.
Kamui blinked into the crowd. “There’s no bare skin,” he said, giving Keiichi’s outfit a look.
“Not unless you make some,” Keiichi teased.
“Don’t give me suggestions like that.”
Keiichi grinned. “Oi! Seimei-kun! Teiji-kun! Over here!”
Seimei and Teiji parted from the crowd and walked over. “Hey,” Teiji said. “You two were about to start making out, weren’t you.”
“Not yet,” Kamui said defensively.
“Suuuuure,” Teiji said. “Come on, let’s go.” He put an arm around Seimei’s waist and pulled him towards the entrance. Seimei, who had never been in a club before, was trying not to stare at all the bizarre outfits around him. Teiji paid both their cover charges and dragged him inside.
Keiichi and Kamui followed; Keiichi paid Kamui’s way, seeing as saving humanity apparently didn’t pay very well.
The club was crowded and loud, though there were parts where voices could be heard over the music, and thus conversations had. It was also very dim, except for some flashing lights and the occasional strobe light. “Having fun yet?” Teiji yelled to Seimei.
“Uhhh . . .” Seimei stared around, his eyes popping. He could swear he saw couples making out in every corner. “Still in culture shock.”
“C’mon, let’s dance,” Teiji said, pulling him towards the floor. Keiichi and Kamui followed. They had been clubbing a few times since they had met, and were fairly good at dancing together. Seimei watched them, blinking and blushing and wondering how on earth he personally was ever going to get the hang of this.
Teiji raised an eyebrow at him, then grinned and put his hands on Seimei’s hips and began to teach him how to dance. Seimei finally figured it out when he realized that it was a lot like making out, but without the kissing.
Forty-five minutes and four sets of raging hormones later, they took a break and headed for the quieter part of the club. Teiji departed briefly to get some sodas for everyone. There were very few tables, and they were occupied, so they stood near the walls and watched everyone else.
Seimei was the one who spotted them first. He blinked, then frowned, then peered closer. Kakyou was wearing almost entirely white; he was hard to miss. On closer inspection, though it was harder to tell in the club’s lighting, it appeared to be cream, not white. His cargo pants were loose, but above that he was wearing a tight tank top and mesh shirt over that.
Fuuma had, unfortunately, had to forego on the shirt he’d bought. It was mesh, and the scars (the largest of the cuts still had stitches) would have shown through it. Therefore, though he was stunning enough in his tight leather pants, he was wearing a simple cotton shirt. It was ripped in many places and held together with safety pins.
He spotted them almost as soon as Seimei spotted him. At first, he only saw Seimei and Teiji, so he gave a friendly wave and walked over, with an arm around Kakyou’s waist. “Oi, Seimei-kun,” he said. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”
Kamui whirled around at the sound of his voice. He blinked in astonishment. Not only was Fuuma practically hanging off Kakyou, they both appeared to be extremely drunk.
Fuuma stared at him. “Oh. You’re here too. Oops.”
“Oh dear,” Kakyou said, and giggled. “Say fish,” he added, and took a picture of the four of them. Then he aimed the camera up at Fuuma and took what was likely to be a very crooked picture of him.
Very drunk.
Kamui just continued to blink at them.
“Don’t worry,” Fuuma said, wobbling a little. “Neutral ground tonight. ‘m too drunk to fight anyone anyway. And I still have scars from Takeshi. So it’s all good. We’ll just dance and drink and hopefully we’ll all get laid.” He nodded and nearly fell over.
Kakyou caught him before he fell over and draped Fuuma’s arm over his shoulder to support him.
“I should kill you now while I have the advantage,” Kamui said, though he sounded like he was joking.
Fuuma blinked at him. “You could do that, I guess,” he said, sounding a little bewildered. “But please don’t. I really wanted to have sex tonight.”
Kamui nearly fell over as he started laughing. Everyone else was just blinking between the two of them. “Yeah, me too,” he finally said.
Fuuma blinked over at Keiichi. “You,” he proclaimed, “are a lucky, lucky man.”
Keiichi grinned. “Yeah, I know.”
“Banging the Kamui . . . I mean . . .” Fuuma paused. “Does that give you an electric shock or something?”
“I dunno,” Kakyou said, still snapping pictures randomly. “I never got one.”
Fuuma looked at Keiichi. “You’ll have to let me know.”
Keiichi looked mildly afraid. “Yeah, okay.”
Fuuma redirected his gaze to Teiji and Seimei. “Hey, I don’t know you,” he said, as if this was just now dawning on him. “Are you Seimei-kun’s boyfriend?”
“I like to think of myself that way,” Teiji said with a nod.
“Good,” Fuuma said. He looked at Seimei. “Don’t have sex. You’re too young.”
Seimei looked vaguely insulted. “That’s none of your business.”
“Well, yeah, and I s’pose with the world ending and all . . .” Fuuma smiled at Kamui, “or at least that’s what you’re thinking, right?”
“When did this turn into a conversation about personal philosophy?” Kamui asked.
Fuuma’s brain couldn’t cope with the big words. “Uh,” he said. “Uhm, well . . . look, go have sex. You’ll loosen up and you need it.”
“Go sit down before you fall down,” Kamui told him.
“Right. Jaa ne, everyone,” Fuuma said, and wandered off with Kakyou in tow.
“That was . . .” Keiichi stopped. Words failed him.
“Strange,” Kamui said.
“Odd,” Seimei supplied at the same minute.
“He was very drunk,” Teiji observed.
“I think they both were,” Kamui said. “None of you have ever met Kakyou before, have you. He’s not . . . he giggled!”
“I met Kakyou,” Seimei volunteered. “You’re right. He was drunk.”
“So were you serious about the sex?” Keiichi asked, poking Kamui in the ribs.
Kamui blinked. Then he latched onto him, kissing him fiercely.
“I think he meant that as a yes,” Teiji said. “Want to go dance?” he added, seeing Keiichi plop down into a chair and pull Kamui onto his lap.
Seimei just nodded. He looked over into another corner. “It’s contagious,” he said, and motioned to it. Teiji looked over to see Fuuma and Kakyou similar occupied, though much more occupied. Seimei thought he saw Kakyou still holding the camera and attempting to take pictures.
“It is indeed,” Teiji said with a smirk, pulling Seimei towards the dance floor.
Seimei went along with it, having discovered a new definition to the word bliss.
~~~~
Kamui woke up very slowly the next morning. The night before was a bit hazy, even though he hadn’t had anything to drink. He chalked that up to having had all his synapses fried after getting home. At least they’d managed to keep quiet. He had enough problems.
He snuggled up to Keiichi contentedly. He didn’t wake up, but put his arm around Kamui’s shoulder and buried his face in Kamui’s hair. “Mmph,” he said, inarticulately.
“I agree.” Kamui closed his eyes and let his head rest on Keiichi’s chest, allowing himself a moment of perfect contentment. It was quickly broken by a knock on his door. Kamui let out a disgusted moan, that clearly conveyed ‘leave me alone’, but not loudly enough for the person outside to hear.
The door opened and Arashi stood there. She blinked at the situation before her eyes, then shut the door again without another word.
“Oh, good, it was only Arashi.” Kamui fell back to sleep.
He was rudely awoken about a half hour later by muffled yelps. He blinked over to see Sorata, turned as red as a brick. He sighed and pulled the blanket over himself and Keiichi.
“I know I can’t lecture you anymore,” Sorata said, still sounding displeased, “but -- ”
“You’re gonna try anyway, aren’t you,” Kamui said, sleepily, but still sounding amused.
Sorata thunked his head against the wall. “No. I give up.” He wandered out of the room with a bewildered air. He even shut the door after him.
“That went way better than I thought,” Kamui said wearily. He had only just fallen asleep again when the door opened yet again. Karen began to giggle and quickly closed it. Kamui thought he saw Seiichirou’s face behind her. Everyone who lived there had now bothered him. He was safe to go back to sleep.
The door opened again. “You know,” Subaru said conversationally, “it is quarter after one.”
“I might’ve gotten up earlier if I’d gotten more sleep if people would stop bothering us!” Kamui said, ignoring the fact that Keiichi was still sound asleep.
“I could point out that you might have gotten more sleep for other reasons, too,” Subaru said, smiling at him.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of Sorata getting some and not me.”
“Understandable.” Subaru gave him a look. “But you really should get up, you know.”
“Oh, fine . . .” He gave Subaru a pointed look. “You know I’m naked, right?”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Subaru snickered and left the room, pulling the door shut after him.
“What was all that about?” Keiichi asked sleepily.
“Everybody and their brother deciding to harass us. Sleep now.”
Keiichi propped himself up on one elbow. “You know if you go back to sleep, they’ll just come in and harass us again.”
“But . . . you’re so warm . . .”
“It’s okay,” Keiichi said, smirking. “I have a better idea.” He pulled Kamui in for a kiss.
“I like this idea,” Kamui said, melting into it. Keiichi rolled him over, pinning him to the bed, pushing the sheets and blankets aside. Kamui wrapped a leg around him, pulling him down.
“You should barricade the door,” Keiichi remarked, kissing his way down Kamui’s throat.
“If they get an eyeful, it’ll teach them to not walk in,” Kamui remarked, tilting his head back.
“But what if they enjoy the site of my beautiful ass?” Keiichi asked.
“Keiichi!” Kamui snickered.
“What?” Keiichi was the picture of wounded innocence.
“Everyone else has somebody.”
“Oh, that’s right . . .”
~~~~
Fuuma had come to the conclusion that there couldn’t possibly be too much time left. It was nearly December, after all. It had to end within the year, so that left him with a month left, or maybe less. Kakyou was of the opinion that it would end on the last day of the year. Thus the term ‘the Final Day’, because when you thought about it, it wasn’t really the final day of anything except the battle. And apparently the year.
So with about a month left, he decided it was time to put his last plan into action. He didn’t want to be laid up for the last battle, after all. He had to give himself time to recover after he got his ass kicked, and he figured that this was going to hurt.
He had to tail Keiichi for nearly two days to get the opportunity. He was spending an inordinate amount of time with Kamui. Especially, from what Fuuma could tell, banging Kamui. They really shouldn’t leave their curtains open. He had gotten a couple pictures that would make Sorata faint.
Eventually, Keiichi walked Kamui home and then left on his own. Fuuma fell into step beside him, once he was about ten minutes away and Kamui would no longer be able to rescue him. “Konnichi wa, Keiichi-kun,” he said with a grin. “I see you’ve been having some fun with Kamui.”
Keiichi blinked at him. “You didn’t seem to be discouraging it in the club last week,” he said mildly. He didn’t look in the least afraid. Fuuma wanted to pout. What the hell had happened to his image? Somehow, it had to be the fault of that stupid rabbit.
“Yeah, but I was drunk,” Fuuma said.
“I had noticed that,” Keiichi said.
“Well, look, I’m really sorry about this,” Fuuma said cheerfully, “but I have to kill you now.”
Keiichi looked at him. “Oh, do you.”
“Yeah, ‘fraid so,” Fuuma said. He lifted a hand and set Keiichi hurtling backwards into a brick wall. Keiichi looked faintly surprised for a second before he hit the wall and was knocked unconscious. Fuuma scooped up his body and jumped onto a nearby building. He left him there, then bounced back to Kamui’s. He left the pictures on his front doorstep, with a small note attached.
~~~~
Subaru frowned as he stopped on Kamui’s doorstep, leaning down to pick up the envelope. The only thing written on it was Kamui’s name, scrawled in nearly illegible characters. He opened the door and went inside, calling Kamui’s name.
“Hm?” Kamui poked his head out of his room.
“This was on the doorstep,” Subaru said, and handed it over.
Kamui blinked and took it. He pulled out the pictures first, and then turned them over quickly so Subaru wouldn’t see, blushing slightly. Then he pulled out the note and read it.
‘Ne, Kamui, you should shut your curtains. There are trees outside your room, you know. By the way, the only reason I haven’t killed him yet is because I want you to be there when it happens. You know, like a family thing. You can find us before then, right? I’ll wait for you. Just to be nice. -- Fuuma’
Kamui dropped the note and bolted out the door.
Subaru scooped it up and read it. No one else was home. He didn’t want to believe that Fuuma would do it, but the teenager had killed people before when it suited his purpose. He decided it would be best to follow Kamui, and try to catch up.
~~~~
“Yo.” Fuuma prodded Keiichi in the ribs. “Wake up, kiddo. Time for the fun to begin.”
Keiichi’s eyes cracked open. He was suspended from something a few feet above the ground. After a minute, he managed to focus, and realized that he had been hung cruciform on two wooden supports. The top of the building he was on was mangled; he assumed Fuuma had done that in order to erect the cross. He was suspended to it by wires that were wrapped tightly around him. He searched for something to say, and came up with, “Who are you calling kiddo?”
Fuuma grinned, though he looked oddly pale. He was tossing the Shinken from one hand to another. “You are younger than me, y’know. But Kamui will be here soon, so you’d better say your prayers. I don’t want to kill you before he gets here. That would take all the fun out of it.”
Keiichi gave him a long look. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. The wires tightened around him, cutting into him. He let out a surprised cry of pain.
“Hey, sorry,” Fuuma said. “All’s fair in love and war, you know.”
“Which is this?” Keiichi asked softly.
Fuuma laughed to cover his hesitation. “Battle for the end of humanity, you know.”
He had hesitated a few seconds too long. “You love him,” Keiichi said, looking at Fuuma curiously. “That’s why you’re doing this, isn’t it. I thought so . . . when I first met you. That you didn’t really want to do this, but you had no choice.”
Fuuma blinked at him for a minute. “Man, you’re sharp.”
Keiichi managed a tiny smile. “I’d like to think so.”
Fuuma shrugged. “All right, so I love Kamui. So what?”
“So you’re not going to kill me,” Keiichi said, with confidence, though the wires were still tightening. “Because that would hurt him too much.”
Fuuma gave him a long look, then shrugged again. “Game’s up, I guess. No, I’m not going to kill you. But I’m going to hurt you a lot.” He managed a crooked smile. “See, if I don’t make him hate me, he won’t kill me, and the world will end.” The smile faded and when he spoke again, he sounded surprisingly vulnerable. “You won’t tell him, will you?”
“No, I won’t tell him.” Keiichi wanted to wipe the blood off his throat, where one of the wires was digging in very slightly, but his arms were pinned. “I’ll scream a lot when he gets here, though,” he offered. “You know, make it seem worse than it really is.”
“Don’t struggle,” Fuuma advised him. “It’ll make the wires cut deeper.”
“Okay.”
“He’ll be here in a minute.” Fuuma closed his eyes. “I can feel him. He’s on his way.” He paused, then looked at Keiichi with a painful smile. “Ne, Keiichi . . . take care of him for me, okay?”
“Yeah,” Keiichi said softly. “I will.”
They both turned slightly as Kamui alighted on the roof. Immediately, more wires wrapped around Keiichi, cutting him again, and he let out a yell that was not entirely fake.
“Yo, Kamui,” Fuuma said pleasantly, firmly keeping the Shinken in one hand and grinning at him. “You got here just in time for the grand finale.” He flew up to stand on the arm of the cross, right next to Keiichi.
Kamui wasted no words. He raised his hands and let out a blast aimed to knock Fuuma off the cross.
He jumped down before it could hit him. “Better be careful,” he advised him. “You’ll hit lover boy over there.” The wires tightened more, especially around Keiichi’s throat. He let out a strangled noise.
Kamui examined his options. If he ignored Fuuma in favor of rescuing Keiichi, that would leave him free to keep tightening the wires. If he left Keiichi in favor of kicking Fuuma’s ass, he would choke to death. He settled for a middle course and aimed another blast at Fuuma. He dodged again, but not quickly enough. It hit him squarely in the chest, and he went flying backwards, nearly skidding off the roof.
Kamui gestured sharply at Keiichi, loosening all the wires at once, so he could breathe, but not enough to free him. He didn’t want Keiichi dropping the ten feet to the roof without help. Then he pressed his advantage, trying to knock Fuuma right off the roof. Fuuma did fly right off, but had regained his inner balance and just hovered in midair.
“Forget that you can’t kill me that way?” Fuuma asked, his voice taunting. He floating up above Kamui and back over to the cross. The wires abruptly let go, dumping Keiichi to the ground. He let out another cry as he hit, then a slight moan as he passed out. “Hm. Think he’s dead?” Fuuma nudged Keiichi in the ribs with his foot.
Kamui marched over. With Fuuma that close to Keiichi, he couldn’t afford another energy blast. But an old-fashioned punch to the stomach was nearly as effective. Fuuma sagged, nearly going to his knees, then flew backwards as Kamui delivered an uppercut to his jaw.
“Nice,” he said, getting up and wiping the blood off his chin. “You’ve really gotten better. And grown a spine, while you were at it.”