Chapter Thirty-Seven
Keiichi was an unhappy camper. He found, upon waking up, that he hurt like a son of a bitch. His memory was fuzzy, which annoyed him greatly. He blinked awake and found he was staring at a very white ceiling. It only made his head hurt.
Kamui’s face hovered into view. Keiichi realized that he was tightly holding his hand. It was just about the only part of him that wasn’t hurting in some fashion. He blinked over at Kamui. “What happened?” he managed.
“How much do you remember?” Kamui asked him.
“I remember . . .” Keiichi closed his eyes. There was hair in his face and he wanted to get it out of the way, but he didn’t want to find out what would happen if he tried to lift his arms. He hurt, but the pain was faraway and unimportant. He realized vaguely that he was probably drugged to the gills. “I remember Fuuma,” he finally said. He remembered that Fuuma was in love with Kamui, but he didn’t want to say that.
“Yeah,” Kamui said, looking downcast. “Fuuma happened. He cut you up really badly. But the doctors say you’ll be okay.”
Keiichi smiled at him. “I remember when you came, too . . .”
“I’m really sorry,” Kamui blurted out, staring at the floor. “It’s all my fault!”
“It isn’t your fault at all.” Keiichi freed his hand and reached up to touch Kamui’s cheek. “You saved me. That’s all that matters. I’ll be okay.”
“I was supposed to protect you, not save you afterwards!” Kamui said, then blushed slightly. “And I shouldn’t be saying this. I’m supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way around.”
Keiichi still smiled. “I know, but that’s okay too,” he said. “Sure, I’m not thrilled to be in the hospital, but . . . it’s not like you had any choice in being the Kamui.”
“That’s it,” Kamui announced. “You’re just not allowed to leave my sight. You’ll have to move in with me.”
Keiichi’s eyes widened suddenly. “Oh, God, what am I going to tell my mother?”
Kamui reflected that it had to be one of the few upsides of being orphaned. “Car accident?”
“With what, a glass truck?” Keiichi asked, though he looked slightly amused.
“A mattress truck. You were attacked by the bedsprings.”
Keiichi considered it. “Nah, I don’t think she’d buy that. I might just have to explain it to her for real.”
“I suppose that’s one way to deal with it,” Kamui said.
“What’m I drugged on?” Keiichi asked. The world was still hazy. Like there was a layer of gauze between him and it.
“I have no clue.”
“But I am drugged, right?”
“Yes.”
“Oh good.” Keiichi’s eyes closed. “It’s okay . . . it doesn’t hurt that much. It’s just some cuts, right?”
“Stop trying to be manly on my account,” Kamui told him.
“I’m not, really,” Keiichi said. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Because you rescued me.” Keiichi grinned at him.
“I fail to see how my rescue has to do with your pain tolerance.”
“Well, you saved me before he could . . . I dunno. Do stuff that would hurt more than this does.” Keiichi closed his eyes.
“I suppose that’s true.”
“See? You’re wonderful. Can you get my hair out of my face, please?”
“Sure.” Kamui brushed Keiichi’s hair out of his face. “Anything else I can get you?”
“Nah. Think I’m gonna sleep some more.”
“Probably a good idea.” Kamui took Keiichi’s hand again.
“Should go home and get some rest,” Keiichi mumbled.
“Yeah, I probably should.”
“Just so we’re agreed on that.”
~~~~
“Konban wa, Subaru-kun,” Seishirou said, looking up as Subaru came in. “How are Kamui and Keiichi?”
“Well, Keiichi’s drugged to the gills and Kamui is staying with him,” Subaru said. “How are Kakyou and Fuuma?”
“Fuuma’s in pretty bad shape, but just peachy compared to what happened to him with Takeshi,” Seishirou said. “Last I checked, Kakyou was asleep in his bed. They’re at Atsuko’s.”
“Is Fuuma going to have to stay there for a few days, or are we going to have to take them home tomorrow?” Subaru asked.
Seishirou poured a mug of tea and offered it to him. “If Kakyou’s stories about how awful an invalid Fuuma is are true, we’ll have to remove him from Atsuko’s care for his own protection.”
“I bet they’re true.” Subaru accepted the tea and smiled. “Kakyou-san isn’t one for exaggeration.”
“I don’t think Fuuma would have killed Keiichi,” Seishirou said.
“I don’t want to make a judgment either way,” Subaru said.
“All right. Kakyou asked me something, by the way. A favor from the two of us.”
“Oh?”
“Well, presuming that the two of them are both going to die,” Seishirou said, “which is seeming quite likely, they need someone to take care of Nataku for them. Mentally speaking, he’s still only about . . . oh, I’d say . . . twelve or so. He’s not capable of being on his own yet, and he’s very attached to Fuuma.”
Subaru blinked. “I was going to ask you about possibly taking Kamui in, when he’s not in school. He’s not going to have anybody.”
Seishirou raised an eyebrow at him. “What about the other Seals?” He wasn’t trying to disagree, but just wanted clarification.
“They all either have their own lives or are going to have their own lives.”
Seishirou smiled slightly. “Well, in that you’re no different.”
“That’s true,” Subaru said, “but we’re kind of attached to each other. It seems wrong to abandon him.”
Seishirou went over to him and put an arm around his waist, pulling him into a hug. “I never intended to say no,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were serious. You were always talking about how much your alone time means to you, and someone’s going to lose an office if we take them both in.”
“I’ll still have my apartment,” Subaru said, hugging back. “And Misako will lose her office.”
“Okay. Kamui can share with Sei-kun, right? I don’t like to think of Nataku sharing a room with anyone.”
“That sounds okay with me if it’s okay with them,” Subaru said.
“I’ll ask Sei-kun later,” Seishirou said, sitting down and pulling Subaru onto his lap.
Subaru leaned on him. “Okay. I haven’t actually said anything to Kamui yet.”
“If I were you, I would do it after the Final Day. It’ll probably comfort him.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
~~~~
Watari emerged from the stacks of his lab, looking smudged but satisfied. “It’s a success!” he crowed, waving a flask in the air.
Tsuzuki hid behind Hisoka. “What’s a success?”
“My new potion!” Watari cackled.
Hisoka sighed.
“Keep it away from us,” Tsuzuki said.
Watari smirked. “Don’t worry. I have a very special use in mind for it.” He wiped his hands off on his labcoat as 003 flitted out of a doorway and alighted on his shoulder. “What’d you two need?” he asked, putting the beaker on a table. Hisoka gave it a wary eye, memorizing its color so he wouldn’t drink it accidentally later.
“We wanted to talk to you about Minase Hijiri,” he said.
Watari blinked. “Oi, that was a while ago. What’s bothering you about it now?”
“Nothing’s bothering us,” Hisoka said. “But remember when he slit his throat, and we pulled him here in order to save him?” At Watari’s nod, he continued. “We were wondering exactly why that worked. I mean, by all rights he should have been dead.”
Watari thunked into a chair. “Well,” he said, “it’s kinda metaphysical. See, your body is closely tied to your mind, right? When you get pulled to the Meifu, even if you’re alive, it’s kind of like a mini-death. Your body, believing that it’s dead, stops dying.”
“Wait, wait,” Tsuzuki said. “Fuuma and Nataku have been here before. They weren’t dying.”
“You don’t have to be dying to get pulled over,” Watari said. “But if you’re alive, the longer you stay here, the more you start to lose your connection with being alive. You really shouldn’t let any living person stay here for more than a few days. Even the week or so Kazusa and Hijiri were here was more than is technically safe.”
“Well, if the longer you’re here, the more convinced you’re dead you become, how did you save Hijiri?” Tsuzuki asked.
Watari made a face. “Um, well, see . . .” He picked up a mug of coffee and stirred at it. “I’m explaining it all wrong, that’s the problem. See, let’s say you die. Like Hijiri did. You then become convinced you’re dead. So your body stops dying. It’s not only being in the Meifu that does it. It’s the human consciousness. But once you wake up and someone explains to you that you’re not entirely dead, that stops part of it.” He blinked. “Did that make sense?”
“Sort of,” Tsuzuki admitted. “Good enough.”
“Why do you ask?”
“We want to try to save Fuuma,” Hisoka explained.
Watari grimaced. “Well, there’s only so much I can do, y’know . . . if his head is chopped off, he’s out of luck. And if he’s stabbed through the heart, I can’t do much for that either. Hijiri had severed his jugular, but not his windpipe. So I was able to keep him alive long enough to fix the damage. But I can’t work too many miracles.”
“So, basically what you’re saying is that if there’s an instantaneous killing blow, we’re screwed,” Tsuzuki said.
Watari blinked. “In a nutshell.”
“Right.”
Hisoka glanced at Tsuzuki. “I don’t think we can just ask Kamui ‘hey please could you not kill him in an instantaneous way. Make it slow and painful for us.’”
“I think this is where we play the fact that karma, if not fate, is on our side,” Tsuzuki said.
“Well, we can hope,” Hisoka said, sounding a bit gloomy. “I don’t think we can afford to tell anyone what we’re doing, though. Not even after the fact. Maybe if Fuuma goes off for a vacation for a bit, Kamui will be less inclined to skin him alive when he comes back.”
“Maybe we should leave that up to Fuuma,” Tsuzuki said.
“Yeah, most likely.”
~~~~
“Home sweet home,” Fuuma said, allowing himself to lean heavily on Kakyou as he helped him inside and onto the couch. “Yo, Nataku.”
“Oh, you’re back!” Nataku brightened, then gave him a close look. “Your face is all bruised,” he stated.
“Yeah, I kinda noticed that.” Fuuma winced as he lowered himself onto the sofa. Atsuko, unlike the hospital, hadn’t insisted on keeping him until he was almost entirely healed. He was still in a great deal of pain, though he refused to admit it to anyone. Still, it was shown quite effectively by the fact that he didn’t argue about being confined to the couch.
“You should stop getting yourself hurt all the time,” Nataku said. “It’s not good for you. You want something to drink?”
“Yes, please.” Fuuma smiled at him. “Tea’s fine.”
“Okay.” Nataku went into the kitchen.
“By the way,” Kakyou said, quietly so Nataku wouldn’t hear, “I asked Seishirou about Nataku. He and Subaru-san said it sounded okay to them.”
“That’s good.” Fuuma glanced up as Nataku came back in, and accepted the tea from him. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Nataku said. “Do you want to watch a movie? I missed you.”
Fuuma smiled. “I missed you too, and a movie would be great.”
~~~~
“Yo, Satsuki!” Fuuma called a few days later, sauntering into her chamber. She emerged from Beast, looking interested.
“Haven’t seen you lately,” she said coolly.
“I’ve been busy getting my ass kicked,” Fuuma said. “Listen, can you do me a favor?”
She shrugged.
“I want to set up some accounts for Nataku and Kakyou for after I go,” Fuuma said. “Since, you know, I don’t think there’s a very good chance I’ll live, given that I die either way. Can you do that for me? Big ones.”
“Big as in big, or big as in never-ending?”
He paused. “How do you make a never-ending bank account?”
“You skim a dollar or so once a week from every bank account on earth,” Satsuki answered calmly. “No one ever notices. It’s a lot of money.”
Fuuma considered this. “Yeah, but it’s not never-ending, unless you continue to skim it for a while, is it?”
“It’s a perpetual thing,” Satsuki said. “I can set up a program that will keep doing it as long as the accounts are open.”
“Kick ass,” Fuuma said.
“Or,” Satsuki said, “I can set it up to be one large sum that simply never gets depleted. Every time some of it is spent, it replaces itself. People will think the bank account is just sitting there accruing interest. You just have to rig the bank cards.”
He blinked at her. “Satsuki, you’re awesome. If you don’t already have one for yourself, set it up.”
“You kidding?” Satsuki smiled wryly. “How do you think I paid for all this? You think that pizza buys itself?”
Fuuma laughed. “Hey . . . I was sort of wondering . . . are you lonely down here? No one’s ever here anymore since . . . since Kanoe died.”
“Not usually,” Satsuki said.
“Well, if you want company, you know where I live.” He winked at her.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Seen Yuuto recently?”
“He still comes every day.”
“Okay. That’s cool. Don’t go destroying any Kekkai on me, okay?”
“I already figured that out.”
~~~~
Keiichi got out of the hospital a couple days after Fuuma was released from Atsuko’s care. He had managed to explain it all to his mother, who had somehow taken it all in stride and then spent the next six hours hugging Kamui at every available opportunity. Kamui was understandably a little alarmed at this, but then came to the conclusion that he rather liked it, and stopped squeaking.
“So how long do you think we have left?” Keiichi asked, the day after his release. He had spent the afternoon at Kamui’s, and the younger boy was now walking him home. Keiichi was no longer allowed to go anywhere alone. If Kamui had gotten his way, the blonde would have moved in with him.
“The way I figure it, we can’t have any longer than the end of the month,” Kamui said, sounding morbid. “The end of the year and all.”
“1999 and all that jazz?” Keiichi surmised. His arms were still wrapped in bandages. The rest of them were hidden by his clothes.
“More like a funeral dirge, but yes.”
“I love it when you’re cheerful.” Keiichi looped an arm around Kamui’s waist and grinned at him.
“I try,” Kamui said. “I just . . . impending doom!”
“I don’t think so,” Keiichi said with a grin. “You’ll win.”
“Well, I can hope so.” Kamui was silent for a long minute. “If Fuuma’s really a monster, how can he love Kakyou?”
Keiichi considered the question. He thought he knew the answer, but couldn’t give Fuuma away. “How do you know he does?” he finally asked.
“Well, it’s come up twice now, rather dire circumstances both times,” Kamui said, recalling when Fuuma had tried to strangle Hinoto. He hadn’t heard any of what Fuuma had said, but he later put things together and figured out that he had been protecting Kakyou.
“I’m not sure I’d call him a monster,” Keiichi said with a shrug. “But . . . he obviously isn’t your Fuuma, is he?”
“No,” Kamui said. “But I was hoping I could think of him as a monster. It would be easier.”
Keiichi considered it in silence for a minute. “Kamui, if someone told you, and you knew they were right, that humanity was doomed, but all you had to do to save it was die . . . what would you do?”
“Probably walk out into traffic,” Kamui said, after a moment’s thought.
“Do you think that your Fuuma would have done the same?”
“I don’t like where this is going,” Kamui stated.
“I know.” Keiichi shrugged. “But you can’t avoid it. It isn’t supposed to be easy, Kamui. I wish I could make it so it was, but I can’t. Fuuma would want you to do this. Wherever he is now . . . I’m sure he’s cheering you on.”
“I just need to stop thinking about it,” Kamui stated.
“Yeah, you can do that too,” Keiichi said.
“Why do I feel like I gave the wrong response there?” Kamui asked.
Keiichi hesitated. “Because I’m worried about you. You’re avoiding all of this . . . and I can tell that it’s going to hit you hard when it’s over. I wish there was some way I could help you deal with it now, instead of waiting.”
“I think it might be better to have the crisis of conscience once it’s too late,” Kamui said.
“I don’t want you to have a crisis of conscience at all,” Keiichi said. “I want you to believe you’re doing the right thing . . . because you are.”
“I know I’m doing the right thing, and I will do the right thing, and . . . and somehow I still feel like a total asshole.”
Keiichi stopped him, taking him by the shoulders and kissing him gently. “Why?”
“Because regardless of why I made the choice I did, I did this to him.”
“You had no idea this would happen,” Keiichi reminded him gently. “Nobody did. It’s not your fault.”
“I know,” Kamui said, “but Fuuma is paying for my mistake. I didn’t know it was a mistake at the time, but it was.”
Keiichi pulled him into an embrace. “But if Fuuma was here in your position, he’d be saying the exact same thing. There was no way to avoid this ending in tragedy, and that isn’t because of you.”
“Life sucks.” Kamui sagged against him. “This was all totally unfair.”
“Yeah,” Keiichi agreed, kissing the top of his head. “Yeah, it is.”
“Here I go moping again.”
“It’s okay. I love you anyway.”
“Thank you. I’m not sure there’s anything I can do about it. I’ve been a moper since childhood.”
“Let’s go back to my house and I’ll make you forget all about it.” Keiichi let go and winked at him.
“Why, Keiichi . . .” Kamui smiled innocently. “You cad.”
“You know you like it.”
~~~~
Christmas approached so rapidly that it took everyone by surprise when it was only a few days away. Seishirou awoke one morning to a flurry of activity that terrified him. Seimei and Misako were decorating the house. At first he thought they had gone insane.
“What is this?” he asked, nearly tripping over garlands to get a mug of coffee. His usual mug had been replaced by one with Christmas trees on it. He poured the coffee and blinked around, confused.
“It’s Christmas!” Seimei reached over and hung a glass globe off Seishirou’s pocket.
“You can’t decorate me!” Seishirou protested, trying to hand the globe back to him.
Seimei grinned. “If you hold still long enough, sure I can!”
Subaru was sitting on the couch watching the activity. Seimei had plunked a boxful of ornaments in front of him and had him unwrapping them. ‘Be useful’ had been his exact words. Subaru found this extremely amusing.
“We need to decorate the tree tonight!” Seimei said enthusiastically.
Seishirou blinked at him. “I think it would kill you.”
“Not that tree!” Seimei gave his father an affectionate whap upside the head. “That tree!” He pointed to the one in the corner.
Seishirou started visibly. “When did that get there?”
“This morning!”
“I give up.” Seishirou sat down on the couch next to Subaru.
“Probably wise. Help Subaru-san unwrap those ornaments.”
“Uh . . . sure.” Seishirou turned to Subaru as Seimei bounced out of the room, presumably to help Misako, who was outside stringing the lights. “I go to bed and everything’s peaceful. I wake up to find a conifer in my living room.”
“Shut up. You’re enjoying it. I can tell by the look on your face.”
“Fine, but you’re cleaning up the pine needles.”
“That’s what vacuums are for.”
Seishirou suddenly looked horrified. “Where’s Patch?”
“Oh God!”
A frantic search ensued in the house. Eventually, they found the cat clinging to one of the branches of the tree. Seishirou proceeded to sit on his ass and laugh. Subaru gave him a dirty look, then got Patch down and placed the cat on Seishirou’s head. Seishirou just laughed harder.
~~~~
Christmas itself was a huge bout of chaos. Everyone seemed to be trying to have dinner with everyone. Since this was impossible, a lot of people had breakfasts and lunches instead. Subaru dragged Seishirou to the Sumeragi brunch, which went well for the most part, though several of his relatives gave Seishirou suspicious looks. At least three fourths of them were congenial, however.
Then Subaru went off to have lunch with the rest of the Seals, and Seishirou went to have lunch with the rest of the Angels.
After lunch with the Seals, Kamui went to have dinner with Keiichi and his mother. Seiichirou returned to his family, bringing Karen with him. Sorata and Arashi were left to have a romantic evening alone, which Kamui got a huge kick out of.
The Angel lunch was similar, though Fuuma had no idea where Yuuto and Satsuki went afterwards. He was left with his own rather bizarre family. They had Christmas decorations. Seimei had brought over a box. Nataku had insisted on a tree after seeing the one at Seishirou’s house. Kakyou, of course, had gone through at least three or four rolls of film since the escapade had started.
The Sakurazuka Clan had a large midday meal that Seishirou managed to catch the end of. After that, they all adjourned to their smaller family groups. Chimori invited Seishirou and his ‘family’ over to have dinner with them.
“Dad?” Seimei asked at the midday meal, edging over to Seishirou. “What’s Mom doing?”
Seishirou glanced over at Misako and blinked. “Uhm. If I’m not much mistaken, she’s flirting with my uncle.”
“Oh.” Seimei blinked. “Interesting.”
“Kaiji is unmarried, right?” Seishirou asked Senichi, who was looking on in amusement.
“He’s a widower, actually,” Senichi said, smiling. “I’m glad. Misako will be good for him; he’s been lonely since Junko died. He’s not even that much older than her . . . maybe six or seven years.”
“Oh,” Seishirou said.
“Well, Mom’s been looking for someone she can’t scare away,” Seimei said.
“Actually, they’re remarkably similar,” Seishirou said, thinking of Kaiji’s easy-going, joking manner. “I think they’ll get along splendidly, and when she moves in with him, Kamui can have her room.”
Seimei blinked. “Wait, wait. Kamui’s moving in with us? When did that happen? Why does no one ever tell me anything?”
“It’ll be after the Final Day,” Seishirou said. “And he’s going to share your room, because Nataku’s moving in too. Merry Christmas, you get siblings.”
“Wait, if Mom moves out, doesn’t that mean there’s two free rooms?” Seimei asked.
“Well, yes, but I don’t think she’s planning on doing so in the next week.”
“Why don’t we just have an addition put on?” Seimei knew better than to suggest moving again. It had been enough of a hassle the first time.
“I’ll consider it.”
“Yay!” Seimei hugged Seishirou. Seishirou groaned. It seemed that Seimei had finally realized he was wrapped around his little finger. No good could come of this.
They gathered for dinner at Chimori’s. Seimei had invited Hisoka and Tsuzuki, who were only too glad to come. Apparently, the Shinigami had a lunch party, but nothing in the evening. No one was very hungry, since they’d all eaten a lot at lunch. For the first time in eons, Tsuzuki seemed to be in a genuinely good mood. He giggled insanely while wrapping garland around Hisoka’s head. Hisoka just stood there with a long suffering look on his face.
Of course, this resulted in him getting decorated even more, by both Seimei and Tsuzuki. “I give up,” he announced.
“Watch out,” Seishirou advised him. “He’ll decorate anything that stands still long enough.”
“So I noticed,” Hisoka said, picking tinsel out of his hair. He settled for cuddling on the couch with Tsuzuki, which everyone found extremely cute.
“What are you looking at?” Subaru asked, seeing the envelope that Seishirou had been staring at for a few minutes.
“It’s my Christmas present from Meiri,” Seishirou said dryly. “I’m afraid it’s a chain letter.”
Subaru laughed. “Just open it. Be a man.”
Seishirou gave him an offended look, and pulled the letter out. He read it and frowned. “I don’t get it.”
“What is it? In Swahili?”
“It’s an invitation to a photo shoot,” Seishirou said. “For me, you, Misako, and Seimei.”
Subaru blinked. “Lemme see that.” He took it, but it was exactly what Seishirou said it was.
“What is it?” Chimori asked.
Subaru handed it to him. “It’s Seishirou’s Christmas present from Meiri.”
Chimori read it. “Wow.”
“Wow what? I’m missing something here.” Seishirou frowned at him.
“It’s not for just any photo shoot,” Chimori said. “It’s the family photo shoot. They do it every other year. Meiri, her children, their spouses and children. By inviting you, it’s sort of like a formal acceptance into the family. So in a way, it really is a gift. Especially since she invited Seimei and Subaru as well as Misako.”
“Wow,” Seimei said, overhearing this.
Seishirou just stared at it.
“Somehow I think I should apologize to her or something,” Seimei said.
“Don’t you dare,” Seishirou said absently, still blinking at the invitation.
Subaru looked at him. “Just be happy. That’s the appropriate response here. Or at least pleased.”
A slow smile started to grow on Seishirou’s face. “I am happy,” he said, and put an arm around Subaru’s shoulders. It looked as if it was somewhat of a revelation for him. “I’m very happy.” He leaned over and kissed Subaru.
Subaru kissed back. “See? I knew you’d figure it out.”
~~~~
Hisoka was sitting on the bed in his and Tsuzuki’s room, watching the other Shinigami jitter. He wasn’t quite nervous enough to actually be jumpy, but he was definitely uneasy about the situation. Hisoka got the impression that he’d be double-checking plans if they had any to double-check.
But really, all the plan they had was to be waiting, scoop Fuuma up and haul him to the Meifu, then let Watari work his miracles. Once they were sure Fuuma would be all right, Hisoka was going to go get Kakyou and bring him to meet them.
Tsuzuki was sitting next to him, massacring a bag of jelly beans. Hisoka was trying not to giggle as Tsuzuki very carefully bit each one in half and examined its insides. “Is that really keeping you distracted?” he finally asked.
“It’s better than anything else I’ve come up with.”
Hisoka leaned over and put his head on Tsuzuki’s shoulder, leaning against him. “It’ll be all right, Tsuzuki.”
“God, I hope so.” Tsuzuki fed him a jelly bean.
Hisoka wrinkled his nose. “Ew. Banana.”
“I think I have a peach one in here . . .” Tsuzuki started to rummage through the bag.
Hisoka laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Save your jelly beans to distract yourself.”
“It’s amusing me to feed them to you . . .” Tsuzuki waved the peach one in his face.
Hisoka ate it with a long-suffering look on his face. “You know, you’re ruining my reputation. I was supposed to be sarcastic and abrasive. If someone saw you feeding me jelly beans, I’d never hear the end of it.”
“You’re the only person I know who can be disgruntled about eating candy,” Tsuzuki told him.
“See? I’m supposed to be disgruntled! You’re ruining it.” He poked Tsuzuki in the ribs.
“It’s an act of love. This one’s strawberry.”
Hisoka sighed and accepted the jelly bean. “There are better ways to distract yourself, you know.”
“Oh?”
Hisoka tilted his face up and smiled.
Tsuzuki kissed him. “You taste like strawberries,” he told him.
Hisoka face-faulted. “Well, whose fault is that?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Tsuzuki kissed him again. “I think jelly beans are better second-hand.”
“I think kissing is just better than jelly beans,” Hisoka replied, putting his arms around Tsuzuki’s neck.
“I think you’re right.”
~~~~
“So are you going tomorrow?” Seishirou asked, watching Subaru pace around the kitchen. It was late, nearly past midnight, but he didn’t think anyone would be getting much sleep. Seishirou was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, outwardly looking quite relaxed, though his eyes were following Subaru back and forth.
“Yes,” Subaru said. “Of course. Are you?”
“I’m not sure,” Seishirou admitted. “I’m technically on the side of the Angels, but I’m afraid if I went, somehow I’d end up fighting someone I didn’t want to.”
“Do you have any idea how wrong that statement is?” Subaru asked.
“No.” Seishirou looked blank.
“Generally, on the side of the Angels would mean you’re doing good things.”
“Ah.” Seishirou sipped his tea. “Why don’t you sit down, Subaru-kun? You’re wearing a track in the floor.”
“We can afford to have it replaced,” Subaru said, but he sat down anyway.
“Do you think I should go tomorrow?” Seishirou asked.
“I think if you go, you should go with me,” Subaru said. “Because if you don’t, Kamui will see it as a betrayal.”
“In that case, I think I won’t,” Seishirou said. “Because I don’t want Nataku to see it as a betrayal, either. Maybe I’ll just wait in the elevator.”
“That’s probably a good plan.”
“I’ll want to be nearby, anyway,” Seishirou said. “In case you get in trouble.”