Chapter Thirty-Nine
Seishirou was not surprised, upon opening his door, to find Hisoka and Tsuzuki standing outside. “Konban wa,” he said. “What brings you here? Isn’t your case over?”
Hisoka gave him a dirty look. “We came to check on Kamui and Nataku, if you don’t mind. And maybe say hi to you and your deranged family while we’re at it.”
“I’m not deranged!” Seimei protested, wandering up behind his father.
Hisoka raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe not, but your family structure definitely is.”
Tsuzuki cleared his throat. “Could we maybe come in?”
“Uh, sure.” Seishirou stood back to let them in, and closed the door behind them both. Since it was evening, everyone was gathered in the living room around a movie. Seishirou mumbled something about a poor excuse for a family activity and turned it off.
“Konban wa, minna,” Tsuzuki said.
Nataku blinked. “I was watching that.”
“I’ll turn it back on in a few minutes,” Seishirou assured him. “The Shinigami have come to check up on us and make sure none of us have dropped dead in the past few days.”
Hisoka gave him another dirty look.
“I don’t think I can drop dead,” Nataku said, looking at the Shinigami.
Tsuzuki turned a smile onto Kamui, who was sharing the armchair quite comfortably with Keiichi. “How are you feeling, Kamui?”
“Reasonably well,” Kamui said.
Tsuzuki looked at Nataku. “How about you?”
“I miss Kakyou-san and Fuuma,” Nataku stated.
Kamui cringed slightly, but said nothing. Keiichi hugged him tightly.
“I’m sure, wherever they are, they miss you too,” Tsuzuki said gently.
Nataku nodded slightly, accepting that.
Hisoka gestured to Seimei to follow him, and went into the kitchen. “I just, well, wanted to say that I’m supposed to stop seeing you now,” he mumbled, scuffing the floor with one of his shoes. “Since the case is over . . .”
“Why?” Seimei asked, frowning.
“It’s kind of a Shinigami rule. Since you’re human and I’m not, et cetera et cetera.”
“You’re human,” Seimei said. “You’re just a dead human.”
Hisoka winced.
“So come on,” Seimei said. “You’ve gotta come up with a better explanation.”
“Well, Shinigami aren’t supposed to interact with humans,” Hisoka said. “I mean, even on a case, we’re not supposed to let any unnecessary people know what we are. It’s bad for the human brain cells. Fries ‘em right up. And apparently prolonged exposure to us is bad for your health or something.”
“What are you, a cell phone? You’re going to give me cancer?”
Hisoka gave him a look, then burst into snickers. “You sounded just like Seishirou.”
“He knew about the Shinigami,” Seimei said. “I bet everyone in this family knows about the Shinigami. It’s not like -- uh, never mind.”
“What?”
“I was going to say that it’s not like any of their brains are fried, but it’s not like Dad is a prime example of unscrambled brains.”
Hisoka snirked. “Anyway, you didn’t let me finish.”
Seimei looked at him.
“I said I’m supposed to stop seeing you. I never said I was going to. I just wanted to let you know it was going to be a little less often.”
“What, is somebody going to stop you?”
“No!” Hisoka glared at him. “And they don’t spy on us, either. I just have an actual job to do most of the time.”
“I suppose I can deal with that.”
“Damn well better,” Hisoka grumbled.
“Don’t act so put upon,” Seimei said, smiling.
“Anyway, you should be a Shinigami when you die,” Hisoka said with a nod. “Because I don’t want to be friends with you for seventy years and then have you up and die on me.”
“But then I’ll be like old and shrivelly Shinigami.”
Hisoka coughed slightly. “You haven’t met Gushoshin.”
“Old and shrivelly?”
“A pair of floating chickens in blue and red clothes. They talk.”
“I still don’t want to be old and shrivelly, regardless of floating poultry.”
Hisoka stuck his tongue out. “We’ll figure it out later. Just promise not to up and die on me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’ll have to do, I suppose.”
~~~~
Kakyou’s sum thought upon waking was ‘ugh.’ He pulled the pillow over his face and yanked the blankets up. His head hurt and his entire body felt like jelly. His mouth was glued closed, and his eyes weren’t much better. It felt remarkably like the first time he had woken up after his coma.
“How are you feeling?” an overly genki voice inquired.
“Like hell,” Kakyou replied, once he managed to pry open his mouth. His voice was hoarse and muffled in the pillow.
“You want some water?”
“Yes, please.” Kakyou pushed the pillow away from his face and was confronted with a rather concerned looking Watari holding a glass of water. He allowed the blonde to prop him up and help him drink.
“You had us worried,” Watari said, helping him lie down again. “We didn’t expect you to sleep for so long. When was the last time you rested?”
Kakyou looked shifty-eyed, trying to remember. “At least a month ago. The day before Fuuma kidnapped Keiichi.”
Watari nearly fell over. “I don’t know how you managed that . . .”
“Caffeine pills and sheer willpower.”
Watari sighed. “You’re lucky. You slept right through your caffeine withdrawal.”
“Well, that’s good.” Kakyou was not feeling very quick at the moment. He processed back over what he remembered. Everything was pretty blurry. “How’s Fuuma?”
“I’m insulted,” Fuuma’s voice floated over to him. “It took you that long to ask about me?”
Watari snickered, left the glass of water on the table, and left the room.
Kakyou wilted. “Don’t make me pull the pillow back over myself.”
“I love you too.” Fuuma turned his head so they were facing and delivered his most charming smile.
Kakyou smiled back and attempted not to melt. He hauled himself out of bed to totter over to Fuuma.
“No, no, no,” Fuuma said. “You get back in bed right this instant.”
“Shut up,” Kakyou said. He pulled the chair over and plunking into it.
“You haven’t slept in a month. Don’t make me get up and take you.”
“I won’t let you,” Kakyou said.
Fuuma attempted to sit up, realized that he was totally incapable of it, and lay back down with a slight hiss of pain. “Jerk,” he mumbled.
“So what exactly is wrong this time?”
“Oh, not much except for the foot long gash across my stomach,” Fuuma said cheerfully.
“Well, that’s just no good,” Kakyou said.
“None at all. Watari said I’m not to even sit up for at least a week. Of course, that was five days ago, but apparently I really do still have two days left.”
“I slept for five days?!” Kakyou exclaimed.
“You sure did,” Fuuma said. “I was worried. I guess I didn’t realize how much all that dreaming had taken out of you.” He reached out with one hand and played with Kakyou’s hair, twining the strands between his fingers.
Kakyou put his head down on the bed and looked up at Fuuma. “Five days . . . Someone should’ve woken me up.”
“You were tired,” Fuuma said. “No one wanted to wake you. You need your beauty sleep.”
“Are you saying I was looking bad?”
Fuuma stuck his tongue out. “Well, the bags under your eyes sure weren’t helping the image.”
Kakyou pouted.
“If you have to be out of bed, at least come up here with me,” Fuuma said.
“You sure that’s okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Just keep off my stomach.”
“Okay.” Kakyou climbed up onto the bed and lay down in the space next to Fuuma. The Shinigami didn’t believe in hospital beds; the infirmary beds were full-sized. It was cramped, but not unbearable. He leaned up and kissed Fuuma on the cheek. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too.” Fuuma put an arm around his shoulders. “And adore you. And think you’re one sexy kitten.”
Kakyou giggled. “Yeah, but I think we’re going to have to put our sex life on hold.”
“No kidding.” Fuuma sighed and smiled as Kakyou snuggled up to him. “Well, Watari said in a couple days he’ll transfer me down to a hospital in the real world. Not in Tokyo. And from there . . . wherever we want.”
“Wow,” Kakyou said, after a moment’s thought. “Complete freedom.”
“For at least a little while,” Fuuma agreed. “I talked to Hisoka and Tsuzuki about it some. They think it ought to be safe to go back to Tokyo in about six months or so. Once Kamui’s recovered some, and everyone’s settled in a bit. Nataku seems to be okay.”
Kakyou considered this for a long minute. “I’d like to go back,” he said. “I miss him.”
“Me too.” Fuuma closed his eyes. “Tsuzuki said that Subaru was going to explain things to Kamui. So maybe it won’t be such a shock when I show up again. Well, no more of a shock than it ever is to see someone come back from the dead.”
“Oh, I think people ought to be getting used to that by now.”
Fuuma laughed.
“We’ll have to buy a new camera.”
“No, we won’t,” Fuuma said. “The apartment is held indefinitely. All our stuff will still be inside it when we get back.”
“Yes, but we can’t go get it now. You expect me to go six months without a camera?”
“Good point. New camera it is.”
“Oh God. I left the pictures over at Seishirou’s house.” Kakyou blinked. “I expected us to be dead.”
Fuuma shrugged. “So we’ll go get them. It’s not like it matters. I think Subaru would have explained things to Kamui even without that. And as much as I wanted to go without hurting him . . . or at least hurting him as little as possible . . . I’m glad. That he’s going to know.”
“I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end,” Kakyou said.
“I think I kissed him,” Fuuma confessed.
“You kissed him?” Kakyou raised an eyebrow.
“I was kinda sorta dying at the time. It seemed like a good idea.” Fuuma looked guiltily at the wall.
Kakyou laughed a little. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Nah. You’re a way better kisser.”
“Well, thank you.”
~~~~
Subaru resisted the urge to start the conversation with a stiff drink. He waited until Kamui was alone in the bedroom he shared with Seimei, then went inside with the box. It had been a week since Fuuma’s death, he figured that would take the worst of the sting out of it. He handed the box to Kamui. “We all agreed we thought you should see this,” he said, sitting on the edge of Seimei’s bed.
“What is it and who are ‘we all’?” Kamui asked, not yet opening it, but looking at it as if he expected something nasty to come out of it.
“Seishirou and Seimei and I,” Subaru said. “They’re photos of Fuuma, mostly.”
“Oh.” Kamui took the lid off the box and began to shuffle through in silence, looking at each one carefully, reading the caption, and then putting it aside. “Well,” Kamui said after nearly five minutes of total quiet, “I guess Keiichi was right.”
Subaru sighed. “Keiichi knew.”
“Did everyone know but me?” Kamui asked softly.
“No. None of the Seals knew except for myself, and I only found out because Seishirou told me.”
“So Fuuma did know about the two of you,” Kamui surmised.
Subaru nodded slightly. “He was coordinating everything through Seishirou and I.” He paused, then added softly, “Well, after Rainbow Bridge. He wanted you to win.”
“I don’t know if I should feel horrible for killing him, or feel better that he wasn’t an evil monster.” Kamui continued to leaf through the photos, so he wouldn’t have to look at Subaru.
“Well, I don’t think you should feel bad,” Subaru said. “He knew what he was doing, and you did what he wanted. What was right.”
“Actually, I feel really bad for him,” Kamui said. He was still staring at the pictures. He had stopped flipping through and was staring at one of Fuuma and Kakyou sitting together on the beach. “Maybe I did know,” he said. “I think my first hint was when Tsuzuki said he loved Kakyou.”
Subaru stood and walked over to him, then sat next to him on the bed. “I think they were happy together,” he said thoughtfully. “And if this hadn’t happened, they never would have met.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Kamui said, still looking at the picture. “But I’ll never be able to ask them if they thought it was worth it.”
“I think they thought it was worth it,” Subaru said. “Or they wouldn’t have done it.”
Kamui put the pictures down. “It also makes all the horrible things he did worse. It wasn’t a monster, it was Fuuma, and . . . and he killed his own sister, and . . . and Daisuke . . .”
“And if he hadn’t?” Subaru challenged, though he kept his voice gentle. “Would you have been able to do what you needed to?”
Kamui leaned on Subaru. “I don’t know.”
“He couldn’t afford to take that chance,” Subaru said quietly. “He did what he thought was best. You shouldn’t hold that against him.”
Kamui started to cry, pressing his face against Subaru’s shoulder. “I miss him,” he managed. “And he kissed me . . .”
Subaru pulled him into a tight hug. “I have no explanation for that one,” he said.
“And how much of that was actually an act?” Kamui asked. “I was away for so long, I hardly even knew him . . .”
“I don’t think he was cruel,” Subaru said. “I got the impression he was rather . . . free-spirited . . . but not cruel or destructive of human life.”
“Well, I’m glad he at least found some happiness . . .” Kamui appeared to have calmed down. He wiped his eyes and sniffled, then pull away from Subaru.
Subaru decided he might as well do the whole thing in one go. He pulled out the piece of paper about the bank accounts and handed it over. “He left this for you, too.”
Kamui read it, his eyes growing wider with every line. “Holy shit,” he managed at the end.
“So, apparently being the savior of humanity does pay off,” Subaru said with a slight smile.
“Holy shit!” Kamui repeated, his eyes bugging out of his head. “That’s it! Seishirou’s getting an addition put on the house!”
“And I think that’s how Fuuma wanted you to start thinking,” Subaru said with a smile.
“Right,” Kamui said, and blinked. “Being happy. Supposed to be happy. I can do this.” He paused. “I can go shopping!”
“You can do a lot more than that,” Subaru replied. He poked Kamui in the ribs. “You can take me out to dinner.”
Kamui laughed. “Maybe I’ll take everyone out to dinner. Keiichi and his mother, too.”
“That’s the spirit.” Subaru smiled at him.
“Should I feel bad that this is thievery?” Kamui asked.
“One dollar from every bank account on earth?” Subaru asked dryly.
“Actually, it’s two,” Kamui said. “But I don’t think Nataku cares.”
“Just call it your fee for saving everyone’s life. They can afford to give you a couple hundred bucks over the course of their lifetime.”
“Right.”
~~~~
“I don’t own any suits,” Subaru observed, peering into the closet he shared with Seishirou. “Can’t I just wear a nice turtleneck and slacks? Maybe comb my hair for once?”
Seishirou shrugged, buttoning the last of his shirt buttons. “You could go stark naked for all I care, but somehow I don’t think Meiri would approve. And Sei-kun might have a slight heart attack.”
“I’m not asking for naked. Just a turtleneck.”
“I think you look fine in a turtleneck, Subaru-kun.”
“Well, good, because that’s what you’re going to be looking at in the photo for the next fifty years.”
Seishirou got a tie out of his closet. “The photo shoots are every other year, Senichi said.”
“Okay, you’ll be looking at the turtleneck for the next two years.”
“That’s more like it.” Seishirou wandered out of the room to find Seimei in the kitchen with Misako. Seimei, amusingly enough, was wearing a cream-colored turtleneck and nice slacks. Misako was in a relatively tame dress. It was about as risqué as she thought she could get away with. “Subaru-kun will be out shortly,” Seishirou reported, and took out a cigarette. A burning glare from Misako had the cigarette very quickly back in his pocket.
Subaru emerged from the bedroom, still running a brush through his hair. Seimei glanced at him, then blinked. “I’m going to change,” Seimei announced.
Seishirou blinked at him, then grinned. “Whatever for?”
“Because I don’t need to look like your boyfriend’s younger sibling or something.” Seimei went into his room, coming out a minute later in a sweater instead.
“You look very nice,” Seishirou told him gravely.
“Thank you.”
The four of them got in the car and drove to the photo studio that Meiri had put on the card she’d given Seishirou. Almost everyone else was already there; Seishirou and the others had taken a while to get organized. Meiri was cold, but polite. Seishirou decided he couldn’t hope for more than that, and he’d go with it.
The photographer had quite a fun time trying to cram all fourteen of them into a reasonable semblance of order. It was complicated. Everyone had their preferences on who they would be next to, and none of the preferences seemed to match.
After the main family photo, smaller ones were taken. Meiri had one taken of herself with her three remaining children. Senichi and his family got a separate one, as did Kaiji and his two children.
“Aren’t you going to?” Senichi asked Seishirou.
Seishirou blinked. “I suppose.” He glanced around for Subaru and Seimei, and nearly had a heart attack as the Tree popped into existence right next to him. “Don’t do that,” he hissed. “You’re lucky the photographer wasn’t paying attention.”
“So sorry,” the Tree said cheerfully. “Yo! Seimei!”
Seimei grinned ear-to-ear and walked over sedately. He might have run, if not for his nice clothing. “I didn’t know you could be photographed,” he said. “Or are you just here for the show?”
The Tree blinked. “Actually, I don’t know if I can be photographed. It’s never been tried.” He shrugged. “Oh well, I’m willing to give it a go. I’m a member of the family, right?” he added with a wicked grin.
Seishirou gave him a disgusted look. “Yeah. Uncle Tree.”
The rest of the family was staring at them. Of course, the last and only time they’d seen the Tree, he’d been forcibly bitching Meiri out. Now he was smiling cheerfully, and his eyes weren’t glowing anymore.
“Seishirou-san,” the photographer called over. “You’re next!”
“Oh goody.” Seishirou walked over and allowed the photographer to position him, Seimei, Subaru, Misako, and the Tree. “If there’s a blank spot in this picture, I’m blaming you,” he said to the Tree under his breath.
“That’s why I’m on the end,” the Tree replied, grinning like a maniac.
“I hate you, you know that?”
“Suuuuuure you do, Seishirou.”
The picture was taken (three times, the photographer was taking no chances) and the Tree immediately swept Seimei into a hug and whirled him around. Seimei grinned as the Tree set him on his feet. “Didn’t want to try that before the photo,” the Tree said. “I messed up your hair.”
“That’s the only part of it that I don’t like,” Seimei said, trying to smooth his hair back down.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?” the Tree asked, with another smirk. “And your mother?”
“Uhhh . . . sure.” Seimei waved them over. “Mom . . . this is . . . the Tree.”
“Uncle Tree,” Seishirou corrected.
Seimei closed his eyes in disgust. “Teiji, the Tree. He’s not anyone’s uncle. Sort of. Except maybe mine. Tree-san, my boyfriend and mother. Are you happy?”
“Immensely,” the Tree said, with a satisfied smile.
“I didn’t know we had an anthropomorphic tree in our family,” Misako said.
“Live and learn,” Seishirou told her.
“That’s it, I’m writing about this.”
“Go ahead.” Seishirou lit up a cigarette. “No one would believe you.”
“I’m not interested in them believing me,” she said with a wink. “I’m interested in the paycheck.”
“People would pay for this?” Subaru asked skeptically. “God, what is the world coming to?”
“They pay for a lot less,” Misako said. “As long as I can throw two people, three sex scenes, and some nakedness into a book, people will pay for it.”
Seishirou gave her an alarmed look. “Whose sex scenes are you putting in?”
“I don’t know,” Misako said. “You’ll have to buy it and find out. If you can figure out what my pseudonym is.”
“Sakura Aya,” Seishirou said, and smiled. “I don’t get paid for nothing, you know.”
Misako gave him an evil look. Seimei was looking gleeful. He’d been trying to find that out for years.
“You’ll pay for that,” Misako informed him.
“I’m sure,” Seishirou said. “Are we going to make the announcement today?”
“What announcement?” Seimei asked. He looked suspiciously at his mother and Seishirou.
“I don’t know, do you want your grandmother to have a heart attack?” Subaru asked, and then hastily added, “don’t answer that.”
Seishirou snorted. “Misako, did you talk to Kaiji about it yet?”
“Of course. He’s okay with it. As long as I have kids with him afterwards.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Seimei interrupted. “Kids?”
“Yes, dear.” Misako patted him on the head. “You’re going to have a younger sibling. Probably more than one. Aren’t you lucky?”
“I don’t know.” Seimei appeared to ponder this. “Why do you need to announce that you might be having kids with Kaiji-nii in the future?”
“Because it’s not going to be with Kaiji,” Seishirou said, when he saw that no one else was going to speak up. The Tree was quietly laughing its ass off.
Seimei put his hands on his face. “Straight answers. Please.”
“Subaru-kun needs an heir and he’s going to bang Misako to get one,” Seishirou said. “That straight enough for you?”
Subaru groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. “I would have preferred the term ‘she is going to have my child,’” he said.
“Then you should’ve spoken first,” Seishirou informed him, smiling. Misako was now also laughing her ass off.
Seimei turned to Seishirou. “We will have an addition.”
Seishirou rolled his eyes. “The theory behind this was that if Subaru’s child and mine were raised as siblings, to respect and understand each other, that would quite effectively end the feud, and pretty much end the chance of any future feuds as well.”
“That’s a good theory,” Seimei said with a nod.
“And as loath as I am to give up Subaru-kun to someone else . . .” Seishirou began, smiling. He was cut off as Subaru grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged it.
“If you say another word, I’ll choke you with your own clothing,” he said pleasantly.
“Ah. All right.” Seishirou just smiled.
Subaru let him go. “Now I just have to tell my grandmother.”
“I’ll stay out of that, thanks,” Seishirou said.
“Maybe I’ll send her a letter.”
~~~~
Tsuzuki looked skeptically at the two boxes that Hisoka had left on the floor in his living room, then the backpack that Hisoka was currently wearing. “And you’re sure that we got all your stuff?” he asked suspiciously. “This is really all you own?”
“Really,” Hisoka confirmed, picking up one of the two boxes and carrying it into the bedroom. “I’m not big on belongings.”
“Guess not,” Tsuzuki said, looking bewildered.
Hisoka put down the box, then poked him in the ribs. “You can’t talk. You wear the same suit every day.”
“Different copies of the same suit,” Tsuzuki replied indignantly. “Stop mocking me.”
Hisoka smirked. “Well, you do have that one black shirt that I saw you wear . . . once. I think. Maybe twice. You should wear that more often. It’s not like we have a dress code.”
“I suppose. If it’ll make you happy.”
“You look good in it,” Hisoka said, looking steadfastly not at Tsuzuki as he said that. He opened the first box and began to pull some clothes out.
Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around Hisoka from behind, leaned forward, and kissed his cheek. “Sankyuu,” he said.
Hisoka turned a bright crimson. “It’s no big deal,” he muttered.
Tsuzuki took hold of his shoulders and turned him around so they were facing, then kissed him gently. This resulted, as he had hoped, in Hisoka turning even redder than he already was. “Tsuzuki,” he protested, pulling away. “I’m trying to mmmmmphh . . .” His sentence was lost as Tsuzuki kissed him again.
“Unpack,” he managed, a long, breathless moment later.
“You don’t have much,” Tsuzuki said. “We can do it later.”
Hisoka giggled.
“What are you laughing at?” Tsuzuki asked innocently.
“You, trying to be seductive.”
“Am I doing that badly?” Tsuzuki asked him, smiling slightly.
“Hell no. Let me get this box off the bed.”
~~~~
Fuuma, knowing the bank codes for both Nataku and Kamui, and also knowing that the accounts would continually replenish themselves, had no problems living quite the lifestyle while he and Kakyou were on their ‘vacation.’ It was nearly a month before he was back on his feet, and almost two before he felt entirely up to par again.
They traveled aimlessly, whenever the urge took them. They saw a good portion of the world before they finally decided to go back to Japan.
Fuuma was twitching with nervousness.
“You’re going to wear out your clothes,” Kakyou observed as they drove out to the Sakurazuka compound, watching Fuuma’s free hand tugging on the bottom of his shirt.
“Quite likely.” Fuuma paused. “He probably won’t be there now, I guess . . . I mean, it’s school hours and all that.”
“It’ll give you time to calm down,” Kakyou said with a smile.
“Right,” Fuuma said. “Do you think he’ll freak out?”
“No,” Kakyou said.
“Really?”
“Okay, I’m lying.”
Fuuma parked the car. “Good to know.” He got out and walked up Seishirou’s front walk. “Is it just me, or is this house bigger than when we were last here?” he asked suspiciously.
“I think it’s bigger,” Kakyou confirmed.
“Oh good. I’m not going crazy. Er.” He reached out and rang the doorbell before he could lose his nerve.
Kakyou reached out and took his hand, just in case he tried to bolt.
“I don’t think he’s going to forgive me,” Fuuma said, and tried to bolt.
Kakyou yanked him back.
“This is a bad idea,” Fuuma said. “I mean, what reason does he have to forgive me?”
“The fact that he wants to,” Kakyou said firmly.
Before Fuuma could come up with a decent reply, the door swung open. Seishirou was standing there in jeans and a T-shirt. He blinked, then stared. Then he shut the door.
Fuuma kicked it. “Let us in, you asshole!”
It opened again. “There’d better be a good explanation for this,” Seishirou said, obviously not intending to let them in until he had gotten it.
“Who are you squawking at?” Subaru called from the kitchen.
“Come over and see,” Seishirou called back.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” Fuuma began.