Chapter Six
Seishirou had the worst headache of his life. He could feel it pounding at his temples, throbbing at the back of his head. His neck ached with the force of it. He felt like his eyeballs were about to pop out of his skull. Well, it wasn’t as if he used them both anyway.
“Seishirou?” A light, concerned voice. Seishirou forced his eyes open and immediately closed them again as the light made dizzy spirals dance in front of him. “Seishirou, are you awake? Can you hear me?”
The voice was unmistakable; Subaru-kun’s voice. Seishirou tried to open his eyes again and felt like he might throw up. He highly suspected that he had a concussion. The feeling was very similar to the one other time he’d had one, on one of his earliest kills. His mother had had to carry him home.
Odd. Why was he thinking of that now?
That had carried with it the same sharp headache, the same dull queasiness. Seishirou cleared his throat and tried to talk. “Subaru-kun?”
“Yes, I’m here.” Slim fingers slid into his hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Like my brain is a few sizes too big for my skull,” Seishirou said, and nearly groaned as a fresh wave of pain hit him. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No . . .” Seishirou thought about it. He slowly came to realize that the last thing he remembered was waiting in his hospital room for Subaru to come see him. Unless that had gone horribly wrong, he was missing something rather big. He finally managed to open his eyes, but it didn’t help.
Subaru looked wrong. He still looked like Subaru, but he looked older. Years older than the last time Seishirou remembered seeing him.
“What the hell . . .?” he managed weakly.
“Are you okay?” Subaru asked anxiously. “You hit your head awfully hard when you fell.”
“Fell . . .?” Seishirou frowned. “I never fall.”
Subaru snorted. “Even unfeeling assassins lose their balance sometimes,” he said, his tone of voice a delicate balance between annoyance and amusement. “Especially when they’re dead drunk. Honestly, how much wine did you have?”
“What?” Seishirou asked, now even more confused. This was completely beyond his ability to grasp. The last thing he knew, he had been planning to kill Subaru at the next available opportunity. Yet here they were, and Subaru was quite obviously not dead, and looked like he was at least twenty years old. Subaru also knew that he was an assassin, and the last time Seishirou had checked, he hadn’t had any plans to tell the Sumeragi about his other occupation. At least, not unless he was going to die in the next five minutes or so.
“Honestly,” Subaru said, going back to being amused, “I know it was a special occasion, but you nearly got your head knocked off when you tumbled over like that. I would have taken you to the hospital, but you kept insisting you were fine like the jackass that you are sometimes.”
Also, when had Subaru started using profanity? His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, which he could clearly feel in his temples.
“I’m lost,” he admitted. “What was last night? When did I fall?”
“Last night. The party Hokuto-chan threw? You know, for our five-year anniversary?”
The world washed pale around his eyes, devoid of color and spinning in some very creative ways. “Anniversary?” he managed.
“Yes,” Subaru said patiently. “You know Hokuto-chan, she uses any excuse she can dredge up to throw a party. I tried to tell her that she shouldn’t since it’s not like it’s official or anything, but she grabbed the ball and ran with it. Anyway, there was a lot of wine, and . . . well, you know Hokuto-chan’s idea of a party. It was pretty loud, and we both got pretty tipsy. All right, maybe a little more than tipsy. And when we got home, we were, ah . . .” Subaru’s face colored a delicate pink, “playing around in the kitchen, and you fell and cracked the back of your head on the counter. You don’t remember?”
Seishirou lifted a hand to the back of his head. There was a spectacular bump there, that at least was certain. Something about the whole story seemed a bit off, but he just couldn’t place what. “I’m so confused,” he mumbled. His head ached too badly for him to think about what was happening.
“What are you confused about?” Subaru asked, blinking down at him innocently.
“The last thing I knew, I was going to kill you,” Seishirou said. He blinked up at Subaru in utter bewilderment.
Subaru blinked back. “Uhm . . . unless you had some plans I don’t know about since then, that was five years ago. In the hospital, right? After you lost your eye?”
Seishirou nodded, which was a mistake. Stars danced and exploded in his vision. How hard had he hit the counter, anyway?
“That’s the last thing you remember?” Subaru asked, his voice rising with alarm.
“Yes,” Seishirou said. “Why didn’t I kill you? Why are you here?” He struggled to sit up and felt his lunch (dinner? when was the last time he had eaten?) rising in his throat. Subaru pushed him back down and he went without resistance.
“Don’t try to move, you idiot,” Subaru said sharply. “You might have hurt yourself really bad. I’ve never heard of a concussion causing amnesia this bad. Maybe I should take you to the hospital . . .”
“No hospitals,” Seishirou said firmly. “I’m fine.”
“But Seishirou, if you don’t remember five whole years, that’s brain damage or something. You’re going whether you like it or not.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Seishirou said, and his cold eyes fixed on Subaru’s for a few seconds. The younger man stopped moving, caught like a deer in headlights. Finally, he shrugged a little, and looked away.
“You never talk to me like that anymore,” he said, a hint of resentment in his voice. “But I guess that’s the amnesia talking.” He sighed. “Look, Seishirou . . . I went to see you in the hospital. You swept me into your mabaroshi and you were going to kill me. I told you that I loved you and, although I’m not proud of it, I begged you for another chance. I thought that you were going to kill me anyway, but then you stopped and said all right. You told me a few years later that you had realized then that you didn’t really want to kill me. I had just given you a way out of the Bet, that was all. You couldn’t break it because the Sakurazukamori always keeps his word, but . . . anyway, we extended it to five more years. And that was last night.”
“And you won?” Seishirou presumed.
Subaru smiled down at him, then pressed his lips against Seishirou’s in an infinitely tender kiss. “Of course I won.”
Seishirou was very confused.
“You sure you shouldn’t go to the hospital?” Subaru asked anxiously. “I mean, five years, that’s an awful lot of memory to lose because you whacked your head against the counter. What if something’s really wrong?”
“Tell you what,” Seishirou said, completely unable to fathom why he was offering a compromise instead of just giving a flat refusal, “if I haven’t remembered in a week, I’ll go to the hospital and make sure my brain is all still in its proper container.”
Subaru’s eyes radiated gratitude and love, and Seishirou suddenly knew why he had offered the compromise. “Thank you,” Subaru said, and kissed him again.
“I have a headache,” Seishirou managed.
“Well, concussions plus hangovers generally aren’t fun,” Subaru said lightly. “I’ll get you a glass of water. Oh, and I should call Hokuto-chan -- she was worried. You’ve been unconscious nearly all day, so I called her to ask what I should do, and she said as long as you were still breathing to just wait for you to wake up. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”
Seishirou nodded again, and the backlash wasn’t quite as bad this time.
Subaru smiled at him and left the room. As soon as he had closed the door behind himself, he stopped and took a few deep breaths. Things were going well, but he absolutely could not afford to be careless. Seishirou was confused, and right now he would pick up any inconsistency that Subaru offered.
He poured a glass of water from the pitcher that Seishirou kept in the fridge and dialed Hokuto’s number.
“Moshi moshi, Hokuto desu!”
“It’s me,” Subaru said.
“Oi, Subaru, you should have called last night,” Hokuto lectured. “How’s it going?”
“It’s fine,” Subaru said, his breathing still slightly irregular. He wanted a cigarette, but he wasn’t sure that Seishirou would ever believe his cute, innocent Subaru-kun smoked, so that was out. “The memory spell worked perfectly. The last thing he remembers is the day he killed me. Only without the actual killing of me part.”
“Good. How’d you explain it?”
“Too much wine and a nasty fall.”
Hokuto paused. “Won’t he notice the suspicious lack of actual head injury?”
Subaru couldn’t help but blush slightly. “No. I, uh, took the liberty of applying some once the spell had knocked him unconscious.”
Hokuto snickered. “Cruel. All right. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?”
“Probably. I may want to postpone it if his headache hasn’t gone away by then. I need to baby and coddle him.”
“Need to or want to?” Hokuto asked, amused.
“I suppose a little of both,” Subaru admitted. “And he didn’t question for an instant that it was me, so I suppose that’s good. I’ll call you again later tonight, okay?”
“All right. Be careful, Subaru.”
“I will be.”
Subaru hung up the phone and headed back into the bedroom. He hesitated outside, his hand on the knob. Would Irishido want an update? Did he need one? He considered, then decided against it. His cousin could ask for one if he wanted it. He opened the door and went back inside.
“Here,” he said, helping Seishirou sit up and letting him drink the water. “That’ll help the hangover, at least. And I’ll get you some aspirin for the headache.”
“Great,” Seishirou said. He had come to the conclusion while Subaru was gone that he couldn’t possibly believe this. It was some crazy dream. Subaru would never have consented to come live with him, knowing he was an assassin who had at one point planned on killing him. The Sumeragi wasn’t that stupid.
He tugged. The marks were still there, and the mind was definitely Subaru’s. But they weren’t as strong.
“Stop it,” Subaru said, annoyed. “You know how much that irritates me. It’s like a mental version of tickling.”
“They’re not like they should be,” Seishirou said. His mind felt slow, almost drugged.
“Well, obviously,” Subaru said. “I wasn’t going to wander around in gloves for the rest of my life. You said it could work with them just on my mind and you removed the stronger ones.”
“When?”
“About a week ago. Not much more than that. The same day that you admitted to me that you had lost the bet.”
“Oh,” Seishirou managed weakly. No, this made no sense. Subaru wouldn’t stay with him like this. He wouldn’t forfeit so much of his life trying to get through to an emotionless assassin. What would be the point? Not seeing much else to do, he mentioned these questions aloud.
“Silly,” Subaru said fondly. “I love you, remember?”
“I know, but -- ” Seishirou cut himself off abruptly. No more questions. No more protests. He would wait and he would watch. Sooner or later it would make sense. That was the way he did everything.
Well, one last experiment. When the water was gone, he put his arm around Subaru’s waist and pulled him down for a long, involved kiss. Subaru giggled but went along with it, kissing back with passion and skill Seishirou would never have imagined the Sumeragi had in him.
Subaru pulled away first and beeped his nose. “Get some more sleep,” he said. “It’ll probably help the headache.”
Bewildered, confounded, Seishirou could only think to obey.
~~~~
Seishirou blinked awake with no idea of how much time had passed. The massive headache had receded to a manageable amount, so he was able to open his eyes and look around with no trouble. The green LCD clock informed him that it was two forty-five. He glanced over at the warm presence at his side.
Subaru was sound asleep, curled up in a ball with his back snuggled firmly against Seishirou’s chest. Seishirou stared at him for a moment. This, more than anything, was compelling evidence that they had in fact come to some sort of agreement. That Subaru would sleep in the same bed with him, and actually sleep, leaving himself completely vulnerable to any attack Seishirou might choose . . .
Seishirou shook himself. That was a point. He could just kill Subaru now and get it over with.
He ground his teeth. If he did that, he would never figure out what was going on, and that was unacceptable. Curiosity was eating him alive. He carefully crawled out of bed. His headache throbbed for a minute, then receded again.
Subaru moved a little in his sleep, but didn’t wake.
The room was dimly lit by the street lamps outside, as the apartment was only on the third floor and the curtains were thin. Seishirou didn’t like complete darkness. It was too easy to be taken by surprise.
He used the dim light to explore the room. Half the dresser was filled with clothes that were easily recognizable as his. The other half had clothes that, while he would not have pegged them as Subaru’s, were far too small to be his own. He supposed that Subaru’s fashion sense had changed in the past five years. Actually, that wasn’t too surprising. This wardrobe was much more mild. He could easily imagine that Subaru would wear clothes like this once out from underneath his sister’s thumb.
The closet was the same. Extra pairs of shoes were neatly lined up. Seishirou did not see any way this could have been done hastily -- nor could he think of any possible reason why Subaru would have gone to all the trouble of arranging it if it wasn’t true.
He left the bedroom. The house was equally occupied by both of them. His books were where they’d always been, but there were additions now; things he hadn’t read and didn’t have any interest in reading. One of them was sitting on the couch with a bookmark in it. There were two house plants.
It didn’t look arranged. It simply looked lived in.
His headache returned with surprising force, and for the first time in his remembered life, Seishirou felt frightened. How could he have lost five years? Why would Subaru be living here with him, in absolutely no fear of being killed or harmed? How had he allowed this to happen, and why?
“Seishirou?”
He jumped, then felt like an idiot for doing so. He was shaken, that was all. Shaken by the sudden, inexplicable changes in his life. Except they weren’t sudden. They were five years of changes that he didn’t remember. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was,” Subaru said, and yawned. “But I woke up and you weren’t there. I thought you might have wandered off with your concussion.”
“I just got up to get a drink,” Seishirou said.
“Mm, okay.” Subaru stretched, which quickly drew Seishirou’s attention to the fact that he was not wearing much of anything. All he had on was a pair of black boxers that Seishirou suspected were silk, but he couldn’t tell from where he was standing in the dim living room. He tried not to stare blatantly at Subaru’s bare chest. “Well, come back soon,” he said. “It’s chilly in there without you.”
He turned and went back into the bedroom. Seishirou stood there, puzzled. Subaru (the Subaru he remembered, in any case) would have been blushing tremendously to be seen shirtless in front of anyone, let alone his beloved Seishirou-san. Yet there he had stood, completely nonchalant in his near nudity. As though it were a position they had been in many, many times.
He stared out at the Tokyo skyline for a few minutes and then decided to get some more sleep. He nearly tripped over the fax machine as he turned around. There was a new fax. He picked it up and glanced at it. A new job.
Seishirou turned and went back into the bedroom. Subaru was already half-asleep again, and he curled up next to Seishirou as the older man lay down. “How’s your headache?” he asked drowsily.
“It’s better.”
“Okay.” Subaru yawned and appeared to fall back asleep. Seishirou turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling, and sleep was a long time coming.
~~~~
Irishido glanced up as Subaru settled on the ground next to him. He was grateful for the versitility in his imagination. While Subaru controlled his body, Irishido could go to once-visited and well-remembered hot springs. He supposed it was better than being shoved out completely. “So?”
“So?” Subaru countered, dipping his feet in the warm water.
Irishido rolled his eyes. “You know what I’m asking, you jerk. What’s happening? Is it working?”
“It’s working,” Subaru said, and stared moodily into the pool.
“You don’t sound too pleased,” Irishido observed cautiously.
Subaru shrugged. “I said it’s working. Why wouldn’t I be pleased? I’m fine. Seishirou’s an asshole, but I’m fine.”
Irishido snorted. “You say that like it’s some sort of revelation. You always knew he was an asshole. Why, what’s he done?”
“Nothing. It’s just . . .” Subaru’s voice trailed off and he moved his feet back and forth in a rhythmic motion. “It’s just I can tell he’s waiting to catch me in the lie. He’s looking for any piece of evidence that this might be a trick. I can’t afford to make even the slightest mistake.”
Irishido considered that for a minute. He was submerged in the springs up to his shoulders, and feeling surprisingly relaxed. Maybe he had just needed a vacation. “I can see why that would make you stressed, but why are you so unhappy?” he asked.
Subaru shrugged, his thin shoulders hunching inwards. “Is he . . . is he that reluctant to love me?” he asked quietly.
“Ahh,” Irishido said, more of a slow exhalation than a word. “You thought that he would just accept it.” He shrugged. “You expect too much of the man, Subaru. He doesn’t know how to love. You’re going to have to be damn convincing to make him learn that. I’ll admit it’s probably easier to start backwards -- convince him that he’s already in love, rather than making him fall in love the hard way -- but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be simple.”
Subaru shrugged again.
“It’s not you,” Irishido said patiently. “You have to remember that. He’s not reluctant to love Sumeragi Subaru. He’s just reluctant to love.”
“Reluctant?” Subaru asked thoughtfully. “Or incapable?”
“I don’t know,” Irishido said. “But I presume that sometime within the next few weeks or months, that’s what you’re going to find out.”
“I’m not sure what I’ll do if it doesn’t work,” Subaru admitted, sounding embarrassed. “I think that’s rather sad . . . I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t make him love me.”
“I’m still trying to figure out what you’re going to do if it does work,” Irishido said dryly. “I mean, we can’t really talk long-term, stable relationship here. There’s a small problem involving your current status as being dead.”
Subaru laughed, seemingly good-natured about this. “But that’s the whole point. I’ll make him fall in love with me, then make him remember that he killed me.”
Irishido blinked at him. “That’s vicious,” he observed, in a mild tone of voice.
“It was Hokuto-chan’s idea. Not mine.”
“You know,” Irishido said thoughtfully, “I’ve thought of a slight hitch which I’m not sure is something you would have considered.”
“Uh oh,” Subaru said with a sigh.
“Sex,” Irishido said succinctly.
“What about it?” Subaru asked cluelessly.
“I presume, at some point, you intend on having it?” Irishido asked dryly. “With my body that you’re currently residing in?”
“Yes . . .” Subaru said, slowly, suspiciously.
“And I’m also presuming that you don’t think Seishirou would believe the fact that you’ve obviously been living with him and that you haven’t already slept together, right?” Irishido asked with a slight sigh.
Subaru blushed a little. “Uhm . . . you presume correctly.”
“Then there’s a problem,” Irishido said. “I’m not a virgin. But I’ve never had that sort of sex before. And, well . . . it rather hurts the first few times, or so I’ve been led to believe.”
Subaru was now the color of a tomato. “Oh,” he said. “I . . . oh.”
“Exactly,” Irishido said. “Oh.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“He really won’t believe that we weren’t sleeping together,” Subaru said, staring into the pool. “I mean, we’re living together. I made it very obvious that we were living together. I moved in your clothes, and books, and other things. I mean, Seishirou’s not a lech . . . I don’t think . . . but . . .”
Irishido just sighed. “Please don’t suggest what I can tell you’re about to suggest.”
Subaru lifted his hands in surrender. “You have any better ideas?”
“No,” Irishido admitted. “But for my sake, be careful. That’s my body you’re going to be taking out for a spin. If you get me some weird disease, I’ll be really, really pissy about it.”
“I’ll be careful,” Subaru promised. “And I’ll be discreet. Ne . . . you don’t have any friends in Tokyo, do you?”
“You mean friends that might have gay sex with me?” Irishido asked dryly.
“No!” Subaru’s blush returned. “I just want to make sure no one’s going to call out to me on the street thinking that I’m you. That could get awkward. And also could be really bad if Seishirou-san is with me at the time.”
Irishido rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re in luck. I only came to Tokyo about a month ago, and I’ve been so damned busy between working and dealing with this mess that I haven’t had an ounce of time to socialize. The only person I know is Hokuto and her boyfriend Kakyou-san, and I’m sure she’s going to tell him what’s going on.”
Subaru nodded. “Aa. Okay, that’s good.”
“Subaru, when are you going to manage to go sneak off somewhere and have sex with someone?” Irishido asked, suddenly amused by the entire conversation. There was a point at which he could simply no longer take it seriously, and they had just reached it. Everything abruptly seemed ridiculous.
“I have no idea,” Subaru said. “Maybe I’ll abandon him at Hokuto’s for a while. Or maybe I’ll go while he’s working. If he asks where I’ve been, I’ll say I was with her . . . she’ll back me up on it.”
“I somehow sincerely doubt that if he was going to get suspicious, he certainly wouldn’t think of this,” Irishido said dryly.
Subaru’s cheeks tinged pink. “Oh, be quiet. You’re the one who brought it up.”
“Only because it seemed like something damned silly to ruin the entire scheme. It’s too bad that I’m not gay. Then you’d be all set.”
Subaru sighed and stood. “Enjoy your hot springs, Irishido,” he said.
“I’ll be sure to,” Irishido said. “Enjoy your Seishirou.”
Subaru smiled wickedly. “I will.”
~~~~
Chapter Seven
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