Warnings: The long awaited field trip. ::giggles::
Chapter Six
Seishirou pulled up his car in front of the house where Seimei lived most of the time with Misako and honked the horn. He never bothered to come in; seeing Misako wasn’t awkward per se, but it was definitely strange.
The deal they’d made had been relatively simple. Seishirou had needed an heir, but was gayer than sin and had no interest in women. Therefore, he had gone to the first reasonably attractive and financially unstable young lady he had found and made her an offer: have my kid, give me the kid, and I’ll make sure you have enough money to roll in for the rest of your life.
Misako, not being stupid, had taken him up on the offer. They’d had sex twice, and Seimei was the result. For reasons unbeknownst to Misako -- in fact, pretty much unbeknownst to Seishirou as well -- he had decided to let Misako raise the child. He himself hadn’t even seen Seimei until he was six, when his magic had started to show up.
She’d never asked what Clan he was part of, and Seishirou assumed she had no idea. Still, from the few times he’d met her, he realized that she was a fairly sharp young woman and might have gotten some idea. That was the main reason that he was uncomfortable around her; he always felt like he was going to give something away.
Besides, it wasn’t like Seimei ever took long to come outside. Seishirou watched as he bounced past the front window, which perfectly framed him as he hugged his mother, then walked sedately out the front door. He had a backpack of things for the weekend as well as his school bag.
“Ohayo, Sei-kun,” Seishirou said with a smile.
“Ohayo, Dad.” Seimei tossed the bag into the back and got into the front seat. “Thanks for being a chaperone,” he remarked as Seishirou pulled out of the parking space.
Seishirou shrugged. “No trouble.”
Seimei glanced at him, but decided not to call him on the obvious lie. The ride passed in almost total silence, until Seimei directed him to where to park and they got out. “You need to, uh, go talk to the teacher,” he told him, motioning towards where the teacher was standing.
“All right.” Seishirou walked off with Seimei on his heels. He introduced Seishirou to the teacher, and everything was going fine until Seishirou refused to go on the bus. It was hastily agreed that he would drive and meet them there.
Seishirou turned to him. “Are you going to go in the car with me, or on the bus with everyone else?”
“Whichever you want,” Seimei said with a shrug.
Seishirou blinked, apparently not sure how to deal with this statement. He was saved from having to reply when Hisoka walked up. “Ohayo, Seimei,” he said, giving Seishirou a curious look. He was not overly impressed with the man, but Hisoka had a tendency to get nervous when he couldn’t see someone’s eyes.
Seimei smiled at him. “Ohayo, Hisoka. This is my father, Sakurazuka Seishirou. Dad, this is Kurosaki Hisoka.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Hisoka said, still looking mildly curious. Seishirou didn’t give off much of an empathic impression; but the little he could feel made him nervous.
“Likewise,” Seishirou said, giving Hisoka the same measuring look he gave everyone. “I’ve never met a Shinigami before.”
“I’ve never met a Sakurazukamori before,” Hisoka replied.
Seimei looked between them somewhat nervously. “Should we be discussing this in public?”
“Probably not,” Seishirou agreed. “Would you two like to ride with me on the way to the museum?”
“Er,” Seimei said, trying to pretend that this was everyday behavior and he wasn’t totally unnerved. “Sure. If that’s okay with Hisoka.”
Hisoka merely nodded. Seishirou started towards that car and Hisoka hung back slightly. “Don’t feel so loud,” he muttered to Seimei. “Take deep breaths and calm down, for crying out loud.”
“Right-o,” Seimei said, taking Hisoka’s advice.
Hisoka climbed into the car, noting that it was an extremely nice car and Seishirou obviously had loads of money. It reminded him slightly of the car his parents had, and did not endear Seishirou to him any further. Seimei climbed in back next to him.
“So why are you here?” Seishirou asked, pulling into traffic and making his way towards the art museum.
“Investigating the death of Monou Kotori,” Hisoka said, and smiled slightly as he felt Seishirou’s recognition. “You know something about it, I take it?”
“What makes you think that?” Seishirou asked, lighting up a cigarette and cracking the window.
Hisoka glanced at Seimei, noting that he was inwardly perking up with interest, though he gave no outward sign of it. However, he and Tsuzuki had done some research since meeting Kamui, and Hisoka was more armed than he would have otherwise been. “As I remember it, the Sakurazukamori is one of the players in this. Was I incorrect?”
Seishirou looked slightly put out by this, not really wanting to have this discussion in front of Seimei.
“What?” Seimei asked, and glared at his father. “You totally said you knew nothing about this.”
“I don’t know how Kotori died,” Seishirou said calmly.
“But you know who killed her,” Hisoka replied, just as calmly. “Don’t deny it; I know you do.”
Seishirou didn’t reply.
“You said it didn’t concern us!” Seimei said, sounding indignant, his anger and hurt rolling off of him in waves.
“I said it didn’t concern you,” Seishirou said, his voice slightly sharper. “And it doesn’t.”
“Fine,” Seimei snapped. “I’ll just sit here in my little corner.”
Hisoka put a hand on his shoulder momentarily. “It does concern Seimei,” he said quietly. “Because it concerns everyone.”
Seishirou sighed. “All right, fine. Sei-kun, I’m sorry I lied to you. I just don’t want you involved in this.”
Seimei didn’t reply, staring out the window.
“He’s telling the truth,” Hisoka told him softly. “If you care.”
“I don’t know if I care,” Seimei replied flatly, still not looking at either of them.
Hisoka sighed and turned back to Seishirou. “Do you know where I can find Monou Fuuma?”
“Yes,” Seishirou replied evenly.
“Where?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“You were sent here to investigate Monou Kotori’s death. You’ve done that. You’ve found out the manner of her death and the name of her murderer. Your job is done and this is none of your business. You’re not allowed to interfere with this.”
“What is ‘this’?” Seimei asked. “I’m hearing a capital T there.”
“The end of the world,” Hisoka remarked calmly. Seishirou turned around slightly, just enough to glare at him.
“Maybe I’ll just walk to the museum,” Seimei replied.
Hisoka sighed. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know. I only found out yesterday. It’s a battle that takes place between fourteen people to determine the fate of humanity; Shirou Kamui and Monou Fuuma are the leaders of the two sides. The Dragons of Heaven protect humanity, the Dragons of Earth work to destroy it. Your dear old dad here is one of the Dragons of Earth, and he didn’t want you involved because you could get hurt.”
Seishirou didn’t reply.
“Oh, right,” Seimei said. “And the world ending won’t matter at all. That’ll be fun.”
“I’m not fighting,” Seishirou said quietly.
“Why not?” Seimei asked.
“Because I don’t want the world to end any more than you do,” Seishirou said with a shrug. “I’m rather fond of it.”
Seimei didn’t reply to that.
Hisoka sighed. Seimei was practically vibrating with alternating waves of misery, anger, and hurt. It was enough to give him a headache. “If you’re not fighting, then why won’t you tell me where Monou Fuuma is?”
Seishirou shrugged. “Because, as I said, you’re not allowed to interfere.”
“And who made up that stupid rule?” Seimei asked, looking like he was about to pop.
“If it’s up to the fourteen to fight the battle, it sort of stands to reason that other people aren’t supposed to get involved,” Seishirou replied.
Hisoka sighed. Again. “Fine. We’ll find him eventually anyway, so I don’t really care.”
Seishirou parked next to the museum and got out of the car without another word.
Hisoka looked at Seimei. “I’d ask if you were okay, but you’re not.”
“My head’s going to explode.”
“He was afraid you’d get hurt.”
“Why, he doesn’t want to pay the hospital bills?” Seimei asked bitterly.
Hisoka sighed for what felt like the millionth time. He wanted to knock Seimei and Seishirou’s heads together. Both of them seemed convinced that the other didn’t like them, when as far as he could tell, this was anything but the truth. He had no idea how this misconception had started, but they were both clinging to it now, and it was enough to make his head ache. Seishirou by himself gave off enough of a confusing impression. “Who’s the empath here, you or me?”
“You.”
“Then trust me. He doesn’t want you involved for your own good. He’s afraid for you.”
“No offense, but it all means very little coming from you.”
Hisoka shrugged. “Well, I don’t know what the hell his problem is. And I’m sure he wouldn’t take well to a lecture from me, so his neurosis will have to go untreated for the time being.”
“Right-o.” Seimei followed him out of the car and into the museum. They followed a tour guide around for about an hour before being left to their own devices to explore the rest of the museum as they saw fit.
“OI! Seimei! Seishirou!”
Seishirou paled. “Oh no.”
Seimei spun in his tracks, turning to see a grey-haired man waving at them from the other side of the room. Everyone else in the room was staring, given that the Tree had a surprising bellow when it really put its mind to it. He bolted over to the Tree, then skittered to a stop, uncertain.
The Tree gave him a wide grin, then grabbed him around the waist in a huge hug, and swung him around in a circle. Seishirou and Hisoka walked over, the former looking long-suffering and the latter confused. The Tree immediately attempted to try to hit Seishirou with Seimei’s feet. Seimei pulled up his legs just in time. The Tree set him down on his feet. “How’s it going?”
“Crappy,” Seimei answered brightly.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” the Tree asked, still grinning.
“Uh . . . sure . . . Hisoka, this is . . . er . . . uh . . . uncle . . .”
Hisoka raised an eyebrow at him.
“This is Tree-san,” Seimei said, giving up.
Hisoka gave the Tree a look. It definitely wasn’t what he had expected, taking the form of a tall, willowy man with soft, light grey hair that reached his shoulders and wide grey eyes that were tinged very slightly pink. His skin was dead white and he was dressed in a grey button down shirt, black slacks, and a long grey trenchcoat. “I didn’t realize you could take human form,” he said suspiciously.
“Can’t, technically,” the Tree said. “It’s an illusion.”
“Oh, that would explain it,” Hisoka said. “Most people I at least get some impression of, even if they have mental walls and I can’t read them, I can still sense them. You just gave off nothing.”
“I’m not really here,” the Tree said with a nod, then ruffled Seimei’s hair. “But I’m extremely good at what I do.”
Hisoka looked between Seimei, Seishirou, and the Tree. It was, without a doubt, the most bizarre family dynamic that he’d ever seen. Seimei was practically glowing under the Tree’s attention; any bystander would have thought that the Tree was his father (if not for the obvious resemblance between Seishirou and Seimei). Seishirou, meanwhile, was standing apart and looking on in an odd mixture of jealousy and longing.
As soon as he caught Hisoka looking at him, however, he looked away, his face going blank of emotion.
“What are you doing here?” Seimei asked the Tree curiously.
“Well, you needed chaperones, right?” the Tree asked.
Seishirou let out an undignified snort.
“That is totally not it,” Seimei accused, half-smiling.
“I know, but if I told you the real reason, I think your father would refuse to feed me for a week. Military rations. Nothing but boring old men.”
“I’m just not touching that,” Seimei said.
“Probably for the best. I just felt like being a pain in the ass, really.”
Seishirou rolled his eyes. “And this is different from your normal state of being in what way exactly?”
“Hey, who’s responsible for you having all that magic?” the Tree asked, half-joking, half-serious. “I gave it to you, I could take it away.”
“It’s not all yours,” Seishirou said defensively.
“No, but trust me, I could do nasty things to you.” The Tree smirked.
“Speaking of nasty things,” Seimei interrupted, “Did you know about this whole end-of-the-world deal?” He lowered his voice so as not to draw any more attention than was strictly necessary.
“Yup.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Simple. You didn’t ask me.”
“I asked you about Kotori,” Seimei replied. “And as far as I can tell it all leads to the same place.”
The Tree shrugged. “When you asked about Kotori, I said I didn’t know exactly what had happened and at the time I didn’t. Then I found out, and didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you involved. And don’t give me that look.”
“Why not?”
“Because you, like any other teenager, have no idea what’s good for you. This is a battle in which there’s a likelihood that everyone involved might die. That’s something that you shouldn’t be a part of.”
“Oh, no, the end of the world, I should let it go without caring at all.”
The Tree shrugged. “Be angry if you want. It’s not going to change my mind, and I still don’t want you involved. I’ve already gotten Seishirou here to uninvolve himself as much as he possibly can.”
“I suppose that’s good,” Seimei said grudgingly.
“Oh, of course,” Seishirou said. “Because I’m sure you’d be heartbroken if I died.” Without another word, Seishirou turned and walked away, saying “I need a cigarette” over his shoulder.
Hisoka thudded his head against the wall.
“And there goes the world’s biggest idiot,” the Tree said, with a bizarre note of fondness in his voice.
Seimei sputtered incoherently for a few second. “Does he ever pay attention?” he finally asked.
The Tree considered it. “Yes. And then he takes everything in the most wrong way possible, because he’s neurotic and stupid.”
“Does he really think I want him dead?”
“No,” the Tree replied. “But he thinks you wouldn’t care if he was. Which is almost worse, if you think about it. Indifference is always worse than hatred.”
“But I’m not indifferent! He is!”
“Seimei, I’ve had this conversation with you more times than I can count, and I’m not about to have it again,” the Tree said, calmly watching Seimei bang his head against the wall. “I’ve told you what your father thinks. I’ve told him what you think. Neither of you seem to care, therefore, I have given up.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Seimei asked. “He doesn’t like it when I’m polite. He doesn’t like it when I act my age. He doesn’t like it when I show any sort of affection towards him. What am I supposed to do?”
“Try punching him,” Hisoka suggested.
The Tree snerked. “That might work, actually.”
Seimei groaned and leaned against the wall.
“You don’t perservere,” the Tree pointed out. “The first time he shows even the slightest sign of disapproval, you stop whatever it is you’re doing and hide in your little shell again. That’s hardly going to work.”
“He shows disapproval, so forgive me for not wanting more of it. He shows disapproval even when I don’t do anything.”
“I can only explain so much,” the Tree said. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
“Go? Why?”
“Because the thirteenth head of the Sumeragi Clan just walked in that door and I don’t think I should stay.”
Seimei whimpered.
“Oh, he won’t hurt you. He’s a rather nice guy, really. Ta.” The Tree turned and walked briskly out the nearest doorway.
Seimei again began to thunk his head against the wall. He glanced up as a man in a white trenchcoat started examining the painting they’d nominally been looking at. He glanced over at them. “You two here with the school field trip?” he asked curiously.
Seimei managed a weak nod.
Subaru turned to them and his eyes widened slightly. “Shinigami.” He bowed slightly. “I’m Sumeragi Subaru. What brings you here?”
Hisoka bowed in return. “We’re investigating the death of Monou Kotori.”
“And what have you found out so far?” Subaru asked, giving no outward sign of recognition.
“That we need to find her brother, doublequick,” Hisoka said with a slight smile.
“Afraid I can’t help you,” Subaru said, turning back to the painting.
Seimei suddenly blinked and stared. He’d been trying to figure out exactly why Subaru looked familiar, and he had recognized him. Hisoka glanced at him, feeling his surge of emotion.
Subaru glanced at them. “And you are?” he asked, mostly for the sake of being polite.
Seimei gave a very polite bow and figured there was no use in lying. “Sakurazuka Seimei.”
Subaru turned and looked at him, and for the first time, actually looked. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed the resemblance between him and Seishirou. “I wasn’t aware that Seishirou-san had a son,” he finally said.
“Yeah, I’m not sure he’s aware of it either,” Seimei replied.
“That sounds like Seishirou-san,” Subaru said pleasantly. “My condolences.”
“Let’s not discuss it,” Seimei said. “Please.” He paused. “Are you, uh, here on business?”
“No. I just got bored.” Subaru continued to study Seimei. He supposed, theoretically, that Seimei was his enemy, being the next Sakurazukamori and all. But still, he was an incredibly cute kid, and Subaru didn’t care much about his duties anymore. “I like the museum, because it’s so quiet.”
“I think you picked the wrong day,” Seimei said. “High school students and all.” He paused. “Are you and my dad . . . friends or something?”
“Or something. Yes.”
“Oh. I just wondered because my father has a picture of you on his desk.”
Subaru stiffened. “He does?”
Seimei nodded. “Just a small one. That I don’t think I was supposed to see, because he nearly closed my fingers in the desk cover when he saw me looking at it. He’s not very big on pictures.”
“I see,” Subaru managed.
“You really don’t like him, do you,” Seimei surmised.
“I’m not quite sure that’s the way to put it.” Subaru frowned suddenly. “I don’t suppose he’s here, is he?”
“Yeah, he got mad at me and went out to have a cigarette,” Seimei said. He wondered briefly why Subaru, when taking an apparently relaxing day off, somehow wound up where Seishirou was. It was altogether odd.
“Ah. Well, it was nice meeting you.” Subaru bowed briefly, then walked in the direction of the door outside.
“That man is totally following your father,” Hisoka observed.
“I don’t understand anything anymore,” Seimei replied.
~~~~
Seishirou didn’t mope very often, but every once in a while he decided it was time for a good long mope, and took these as he pleased. They usually involved a lot of cigarettes. It didn’t help that the Tree had just come outside and chewed him up one side and down the other for lying to Seimei. Seishirou didn’t really consider this very fair; the Tree hadn’t exactly been divulging the information either. However, from long experience, Seishirou knew that the Tree just didn’t think like that. It could honestly use the ‘you didn’t ask so I didn’t tell’ excuse, because it never divulged information without being asked. It thought in a very linear manner.
It came of not being human, Seishirou supposed.
He glanced up as Subaru walked over, wondering suddenly how long the other man had been standing there. He hadn’t not been paying a particular amount of attention; he could have been there for ten minutes at least.
“May I have a cigarette?” Subaru asked him.
Seishirou took one out, lit it, and handed it over wordlessly.
“Thank you. Cute kid.”
Seishirou blinked up at him. “You met Sei-kun?”
“Yeah. Unless you have any other kids.”
“No. He’s the only one.” Seishirou lit up another cigarette (his fourth since coming outside) and took a long drag on it. This was really going down as the mother of all shitty days.
“Is he really as nice as he seems?” Subaru asked.
“I have absolutely no idea,” Seishirou replied. “I barely know him at all.”
“And why’s that?” Subaru was operating on the principle that he would needle Seishirou over whatever he could, and was taking perverse delight in the man’s relatively obvious misery.
Seishirou just shrugged.
“Don’t give me that,” Subaru said, sitting on the stone bench beside him. “You never just not know.”
“I don’t know him because he doesn’t let me know him,” Seishirou said. “Seems fairly obvious to me.”
“He said you came out here because you were angry with him.”
“I’m not surprised he thinks that.”
“And what, pray tell, made you decide to come to a museum with a bus full of high school students?”
Seishirou glanced at him. “And why, pray tell, did you happen to end up at the same museum on the day I came?”
“I thought that was obvious.”
“Ah yes. The hunter turns hunted.”
“I hardly give myself that much credit.”
“How about the stalker turns stalked?”
“I’ll consider it.”
Seishirou rolled his eyes and stood, beginning to walk around the small gardens that were planted around the museum. “So you’ve come out here to enjoy me wallowing in my self-pity, is that it?”
“Actually, I’m wondering what caused it,” Subaru said. “You’re not a pity type of any sort. I wasn’t aware pity was in your vocabulary.”
“Yes, well, that all comes down to how little you really know about me,” Seishirou said calmly.
“I don’t know you because you don’t let me know you,” Subaru said, mimicking Seishirou’s tone from earlier in the conversation and pulling his leg up onto the bench, still smoking the cigarette.
Seishirou blinked at him for a long second, then shrugged. “You don’t want to know me, Subaru-kun.”
“How would you know that?” Subaru asked.
“Common sense. You don’t want to know the real person I am.”
“Shows you how well you know me,” Subaru replied.
“I get the feeling we could circle this topic for hours,” Seishirou remarked dryly.
“Most likely.”
“Then let’s call it quits. The field trip will be leaving soon and I need to go with Seimei.”
“Have fun,” Subaru said. “If you’re lucky, your kid really is as nice as he seems.”
“Lucky?” Seishirou asked, then shrugged. “Yeah, right. Because the nice people always make the best assassins, after all.”
“Well, it’s fairly obvious that cold people don’t make the best assassins either.”
Seishirou smirked. “Cruel, Subaru-kun. Someday I’ll win your heart.”
“Is that emotionally speaking, or would you like it on a plate?”
Seishirou walked over and put one finger underneath Subaru’s chin, tilting it up so they were eye to eye. “Never on a plate. I’d need a bowl to collect the blood.”
Subaru reached up and tugged his sunglasses off. “If we’re going to look eye to eye, we’re going to look eye to eye. You can’t intimidate me by hiding behind them. And when I die, I’ll be sure to have my heart sent to you in a bowl. If you’re not present at the event itself.”
Seishirou smiled at him. “And to think you used to be so uncomfortable at the sight of my blind eye.”
“How do you know I’m not uncomfortable?” Subaru asked. He didn’t give Seishirou a chance to reply, but simply kissed him -- more thoroughly than the last time -- and then turned and walked away, taking the sunglasses with him.
Seishirou sighed and turned back to the museum, just in time to see Seimei skittering away from the door, where he had been watching.
“Lost your sunglasses,” Hisoka observed coolly.
“Shut the hell up,” Seishirou replied.
~~~~
Chapter Seven
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