Part Eight
Subaru was only aware, in his half-conscious state, that something was very, very wrong. He had woken up that morning feeling tired and sore. Seishirou had reminded him - gently but firmly - that he really was still injured, and should probably stay in bed. Subaru had grudgingly agreed, and drifted off to sleep again.
-- You’re late -
Subaru tossed uneasily, whimpering a little. “Ka . . . mui . . .”
-- I was just finishing up -
“No . . .”
-- Sa . . . i . . . ki . . . --
Subaru could only breathe in gasps, unconscious tears trickling slowly down his cheeks.
-- Fuuma . . . why -
He twisted the covers around himself, stirring uneasily.
-- If you want to kill me, try harder -
Subaru jerked and rolled out of bed, landing with a thud on the hard wood floor.
-- Don’t waste your time. It’s too late -
“KAMUI!” Subaru awoke with a wail, his body uncoiling from fetal position and launching him to his feet before he even realized what was happening. Then, just as quickly, the strength went out of his knees and he sat down with a whoosh, gasping for breath.
-- It’s too late -
“Ka . . . mui . . .” Subaru struggled to his feet, fumbling for where he’d left his clothes before going back to bed that morning. In his dazed state, it took him almost ten minutes to crawl into them, then he ran out to the street and hailed a taxi.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
Subaru had to stop to collect himself, still breathing hospital. “The hospital,” he guessed, voice barely audible. “CLAMP Campus Hospital.”
“You okay?” He pulled into traffic, giving Subaru a concerned glance over his shoulder.
“Yes, I . . . I’m fine,” Subaru whispered. He forced himself to breathe deeply, to be calm. Kamui had been hurt badly, he was sure of that, but he was still alive. Worrying wouldn’t help anything. He paid the driver, giving him a substantial tip since they’d gotten there in record time, and went inside. He didn’t know where to go, but a few seconds of careful concentration gave his steps direction.
“Subaru-san!” Sorata waved to him from a corner of the Emergency Room waiting area.
Subaru nodded and walked over. “What happened?” He tried desperately to keep his voice calm. “Is Kamui all right?”
Sorata nodded, then shook his head. “Well . . . he’s all right, physically I mean. But . . . Fuuma hurt him pretty badly this time.” His dark eyes held unusual anger. “And emotionally speaking, that can’t have been good for Kamui.”
Subaru rubbed his thin hands over his face. “Can I see him?”
“The doctor said he’d be unconscious for a while - ” Sorata began, then sighed. “All right. Want me to call Seishirou for you?”
“If you would,” Subaru said. “Thanks.”
“Don’t forget, you’re still injured,” Sorata said, then gave him a gentle shove in the direction of Kamui’s room.
****
“Hey,” Seishirou said softly. “I came as soon as I could.”
Subaru looked up, eyes dull. “You shouldn’t have left work. You just started there.”
Seishirou shrugged, obviously not giving a damn. His gaze flickered over Kamui. “How’s he doing?”
“He’ll be okay . . . physically speaking, that is. But we both know that the emotional wounds are often far more deadly than the physical.”
Seishirou nodded and stepped over to Subaru, putting his hands on the Sumeragi’s shoulders. “And how are you?”
“Tired,” Subaru answered. “I should have been there.”
“You’re injured, Subaru-kun. You can’t be everywhere at once.”
“I know . . . but this is one time I should have been there. I can never help when it matters.”
“Subaru-kun . . .”
“Please,” Subaru whispered, “don’t try to comfort me right now. Let me be miserable for a little while.” He managed a crooked smile. “I promise I’ll listen tomorrow. But for now . . .”
Seishirou leaned down and kissed the top of Subaru’s head. “Whatever you want, Subaru-kun. But you know I hate to see you unhappy.”
“I think you may want to get used to it,” Subaru said with a sigh.
Seishirou ignored that statement. “Are you going to stay here tonight?”
Subaru nodded.
“Do you want me to stay with you?”
“I’ll be all right. Oh, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“I told Johnny I would meet him around dinnertime tonight - can you call him and change it to lunch tomorrow? Just tell him I’ll swing by his apartment around one.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks.”
“Try to get some sleep tonight, okay, Subaru-kun?”
Subaru glanced up, and nodded. “I’ll try. I can’t really promise more than that, though.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“You should go back to work.”
“I could stay - ”
“I’ll be all right.”
Seishirou nodded, suspecting that Subaru just wanted to be alone and was too nice to say so. “Okay. I’ll drop by again when I get off, okay?”
Subaru merely nodded.
“See you later, then. Love you.”
****
If there was one thing Johnny hated, it was stupid people. Like this guy who was standing right in his path. Sure, he was hot, but he wasn’t moving out of the way. Johnny prepared to push past him, when he had a sudden strong suspicion that he did not want skin contact with this other man. After twenty-five years of being psychometric, Johnny had learned to trust his instincts, and he stopped dead.
“Are you Johnny Renfield?” the man asked, smiling cheerfully.
Johnny examined his options and immediately settled on the easiest one. “No.” Then he started to walk again.
“Funny, I could’ve sworn you were,” the other man said conversationally, easily keeping up with Johnny.
“They say everyone has a double,” Johnny replied.
“You are Johnny Renfield.” The man’s tone accepted no argument.
Johnny stopped again and looked at him, arms folded over his chest. “Well, you just won the genius prize for today. If you knew, why did you ask?”
“Some people might consider it polite.”
“I’m not some people.”
“That’s obvious enough.” The man attempted a disarming smile, which was enough to make Johnny’s skin crawl. “I want to buy your services.”
“I’m retired.” Johnny shoved past him and kept walking.
“I can offer a suitable sum.”
“It would have to be quite a bit to pull me out of retirement,” Johnny told him.
“How about your life?”
Johnny stopped yet a third time. “Excuse me?”
“It’s very simple. You come with me, and I won’t kill you.”
“Why?” Johnny was never one to be intimidated.
“Because I need you to help me.”
“Really.” Johnny couldn’t have sounded any less interested.
“Yes. Really.”
“With what?”
“I’ll explain later,” Fuuma said. He had apparently gotten tired of explaining things. He reached out towards Johnny, who flinched away. He was not quite quick enough, however, and Fuuma’s fingers brushed over the bare skin on his face.
The world went white as every empathic sensor in Johnny’s skin went on overdrive.
blood and darkness
. . . Fuuma, why . . .
and pain
Johnny blacked out.
****
Subaru breathed a sigh of relief as Kamui’s eyes flickered open the next morning. “Thank goodness . . .”
“Su . . . baru . . .” Kamui was breathing slowly, as if each movement hurt him. He tried to sit up, then slumped backwards as pain ripped through his body, letting out an involuntary cry.
Subaru caught him and eased him downward. “You’re still not well enough,” he said gently.
Kamui waited until he got his breath back to ask his next question. “Have I been here long?”
“You’ve been unconscious ever since Arisugawa-kun brought you here,” Subaru answered with a nod. “That was yesterday afternoon.”
“How are Sorata and Arashi?” Kamui asked anxiously.
“They’re both fine,” Subaru reassured him. “They weren’t injured.”
Kamui breathed a sigh of relief. Then he noticed that he had Subaru’s hand in a visegrip and loosened his fingers a little, trying not to blush. “Have you . . . been holding my hand all this time?”
“You did that for me while I was unconscious,” Subaru replied, smiling down at him.
“Thank you . . .” Kamui said faintly, almost glad he was in too much pain for his hormones to be running rampant.
There was a long moment of silence.
“I had a dream,” Kamui said softly. “In my dream, I met . . . the man with the golden eyes again. Kakyou. He asked me . . . if I would give up my Wish.” Kamui reached up and gently touched the bandage under Subaru’s eye. “You’re injured because of me. Saiki is dead because of me. Even so, I can’t give up on Fuuma . . .” His voice trailed off.
“We choose our own paths, Kamui,” Subaru said. “Saiki knew the risk, as did I. If that’s the wish you’ve chosen . . . we’ll stand by you. My sister used to tell me, the happiest moment in a person’s life is when his or her Wish comes true.” He paused. “What makes a person happy is different for everyone. Even if others see it as misfortune, or selfish, or wrong.”
Kamui was silent a long minute, then asked in a small voice, “The only one who can make you truly happy . . . is Seishirou-san?”
That’s it, let his heart break gently, Subaru thought, half-sarcastically, half-depressed. “ . . . Yes.”
Kamui was saved from having to reply as the door opened and Sorata came in. Subaru kept glancing at his watch. After a brief conversation with Sorata and Arashi, Kamui fell back asleep.
“Will you stay with him?” Subaru asked. “I need to go meet a friend.”
“Of course,” Sorata assured him.
“Thanks,” Subaru said. “I’ll be back later.”
****
Subaru waited impatiently outside Johnny’s door, knocking for the second time. “Johnny? Are you home?” He pressed his ear against the door and tried to listen.
“He’s not coming, you know.”
Subaru spun in his tracks to see Fuuma leaning against the wall, half-finished cigarette dangling from his fingers. “What?”
“Your friend. He’s not coming.” Fuuma looked at Subaru and smiled. “He had somewhere more important to be.”
Subaru choked back panic and managed to face Fuuma with some semblance of dignity, though he could barely speak through his fury. “What. Have you done. With Johnny.”
“Done with him? Not much, really. He’s just in my safe-keeping . . . of course, I can’t guarantee that nothing’s going to happen to him.”
Subaru tried to breathe, tried to stay calm. “Was there a purpose to this?”
“Nothing I do is without purpose, Subaru-kun,” Fuuma answered with a smile. “You, of course, can’t really do anything about Johnny. Seishirou, on the other hand . . .”
It clicked. Subaru stared at Fuuma in undisguised horror. “You’re going to hold Johnny hostage until Seishirou agrees to work for you?”
“You’re close, but you’re still wrong,” Fuuma said amiably. “I’m going to hold Johnny hostage, period. Whether or not any harm comes to him . . . that’s what depends on Seishirou.”
“And how long do we have to decide?” Subaru was concentrating only on staying calm. Decisions would come later.
“Oh, I’ll give you . . . two days or so. After that, Johnny may find himself in some . . . bad situations.”
“And how can Seishirou find you?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Fuuma smiled. “I’ll find him.” With that, he turned and walked away.
Subaru slumped bonelessly against the wall, battling shock and panic. After a minute, he started looking around for a phone.
****
Consciousness came to Johnny slowly. The first thing he was aware of was the throbbing pain in his head, then the fact that his skin was still burning from the contact with Fuuma. He pried his eyes opened and found, much to his displeasure, that his hands were tied behind his back, and his feet were also tied. He was sitting next to what looked like a gigantic computer.
“I see you’ve joined us,” Fuuma said pleasantly.
“Is that the royal ‘us’?” Johnny asked, sounding a little less pleased.
“Of course not. Don’t forget Satsuki.” Fuuma gestured upwards, to where a girl in an extremely short skirt was sitting in a computer chair.
“Well, Christ, an electric slut,” Johnny said, glaring at both of them.
Fuuma glanced up as Satsuki’s hand snaked for her computer. “Now, now, Satsuki, I’m sure Johnny isn’t trying to insult you. He’s just in an understandably bad mood right now.” He looked at Johnny. “Keep in mind that further comments might not be good for your health.”
“I’ve made a fine art of risking my health, you unmitigated puss bucket,” Johnny snapped.
“I’m sure you have. But don’t worry. I don’t think you’ll be here longer than a few months.”
“Oh. That’s good to know. And may I have the very dubious pleasure of knowing who you and the electric slut are?”
“You’ll probably recognize my name,” Fuuma said. “I’m ‘Kamui.’”
“You’re Kamui and I’m well-adjusted,” Johnny replied. “Mind not lying?”
“I am Kamui,” Fuuma said coldly.
“Right. The cute little kid suddenly gained a foot of height and turned into Charles Manson, Adolf Hitler, and all four Teletubbies rolled into one. With a nice exterior of course. Tell me a new one, asshole.”
“Let me rephrase,” Fuuma said calmly. “I am one of the Kamui.”
“Okay, there’s a union of Kamuis,” Johnny replied. “Mind explaining in clear Japanese, please?” By this point he knew exactly what Fuuma was talking about, but he was going to do his damndest to try to piss the man off.
“I could,” Fuuma said, with a yawn. “But it’s boring me. I’ve got better things to do.”
“That’s okay. You’re boring the hell out of me too. So if we are done with this most inspiring of conversations, please, just leave me to make myself comfortable.”
Fuuma smirked. “You haven’t even asked why you’re here.”
“Oh, that I figured out on my own. All those questions were just to piss you off. Not because I need the information.” Johnny grinned a manic grin.
Fuuma appeared to consider this for a moment. “You’re quite clever. It’s too bad your little plan didn’t succeed.”
“That’s all right. It’s not like I was going to get anything out of it besides a little amusement. No big deal, really. Thanks for trying.”
Fuuma shook his head. “The only thing I’m left to wonder is what that pathetic Sumeragi sees in you.”
“It’s my wonderful charm,” Johnny replied.
“If you two are quite finished,” a new voice interrupted, “I’d like to speak with you, Kamui.”
Johnny looked over to see, if it was possible, someone wearing tighter clothes than Satsuki. He looked at Fuuma with a sneer. “Hey, ‘Kamui.’ You might want to loosen up on your dress code. First the electric slut. That was bad enough, but she - ” He nodded to Kanoe with his chin - “is gonna fall out. Hey, lady, how much are you paid to dress like that?”
Fuuma walked over and, quite calmly, slapped him across the face.
Johnny’s head reeled from the contact, added to the force of the blow. He shook himself, trying to make the world clear and settle back into its normal place. Fortunately, he managed to stay conscious this time, glaring up at Fuuma.
“So tell me, Johnny,” Fuuma said conversationally, “what do I feel like to you?”
Johnny said nothing. His skin was crawling. It was all he could do to keep from straining to scrub it off.
“I know all about your little talent, you know,” Fuuma said. “Came in very handy earlier.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Johnny said, voice dripping sarcasm.
Fuuma smirked and turned to walk away.
Johnny waited until they were gone, then curled up as best he could and tried to ignore his burning skin. He wanted nothing more than to lose consciousness.
****
Seishirou’s office phone was turned off, and Subaru knew that Liam wouldn’t be home from work for another five hours at least (though he definitely wasn’t looking forward to explaining the situation to Johnny’s boyfriend of nine years). Therefore Subaru took the only option that was left to him; went straight to Nokoru’s office, where he knew he would find Suoh, the head of CLAMP campus security.
It took the older man about ten minutes to decipher Subaru’s hysterics. Nokoru listened in a silent mix of horror and concern. For once, the chairman was apparently struck both speechless and out of ideas. Subaru finally wound down, ending with, “And I tried to call Seishirou but he’s not answering his phone.”
“To begin with, calm down,” Suoh said firmly. “Johnny isn’t in any immediate danger, that’s clear enough. I’ll see what I can do about figuring out when and where it happened . . . maybe something will turn up.”
Subaru just shook his head. “Fuuma’s too careful for that.”
“In the meantime, keep trying to get in touch with Seishirou,” Suoh said. “Do you want us to tell Liam?”
Subaru was sorely tempted, but shook his head again. “No. He’d take it better coming from me.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know if we find anything.”
Numb with shock, Subaru wandered out of Nokoru’s office and asked the secretary to use the phone. He had written Seishirou’s office number down and started keeping it with him, since the older man changed jobs so often that it was hard to remember what the new number was all the time.
“Sakurazuka.”
“I’m glad you’re there,” Subaru replied. “You weren’t answering an hour ago.”
“I was busy,” Seishirou said. “What’s wrong?”
Subaru felt his voice choking up and fought to stay calm. “It would take too long to explain over the phone. You shouldn’t leave again, but can I come to your office?”
“Sure,” Seishirou said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Subaru reassured him, though it was somewhat less than true. “I’ll be over soon.” He hung up before Seishirou could ask any more questions and got a taxi.
“What’s wrong?” Seishirou greeted him as he walked into the office. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” Subaru said.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. Fuuma kidnapped Johnny.”
Seishirou blinked. “Excuse me?”
“He says if you don’t work for him, he’ll . . . well, he didn’t say that he would kill Johnny, but he implied it very heavily.”
Seishirou stared.
Subaru slumped into one of the chairs in the office. “I don’t know what to do,” he said faintly. “I just . . . I can’t let him kill Johnny . . . Johnny is my best friend . . .”
“But I can’t work for Fuuma,” Seishirou said, reasonably enough.
“I know, but he’s going to kill Johnny . . .”
“Is there any way we can get Johnny back?” Seishirou was determined to be reasonable at all costs.
“We don’t even know where he is,” Subaru said miserably, staring at his feet. “And I’m sure Fuuma’s keeping an eye on him. Besides, what’s the use?”
Silence.
“If it’s not this, it’s something else. He’ll never give up on you; you’re too powerful to lose. He’ll find some way to do it eventually.”
More silence.
“I’m tired of this, Seishirou. We fought destiny for so long, but we ought to have known we could never win in the end.”
“Subaru-kun.” Seishirou’s voice was very soft. “Shut up.”
Subaru looked up.
“I will not,” Seishirou stated, “give up. After this is over, we may have a real chance to be together, and that is something I won’t let go of. We can make it through this, Subaru-kun.”
“But he’s going to kill Johnny . . .” Subaru whispered.
Seishirou knelt in front of him. “What do you want me to do, Subaru-kun? We can’t get Johnny back, but I can’t work for Fuuma, but we can’t let Johnny get killed. All you’re doing in presenting me with impossibilities.”
“I don’t know!” Subaru cried. “I don’t know what to do, I just want . . . I just don’t want to have to do this anymore . . . please don’t let Johnny die . . .” He reached forward and pulled Seishirou closer to him. “Please, don’t let Johnny die . . .”
“Subaru-kun, if I worked for Fuuma, that would cause hundreds of deaths,” Seishirou said slowly. “I don’t want to be the cause of that much pain.”
“But . . .”
“I don’t think Johnny would either,” Seishirou interrupted him. “And I know this hurts, but sometimes you have to sacrifice the one for the good of the many. I - ”
“No!” Subaru stood up, pulling away from Seishirou. “Not when my friend is the sacrifice!”
Seishirou just looked at him.
Subaru turned away. “You never liked him anyway,” he said, voice muffled by tears.
Seishirou sighed. “Subaru-kun, that has nothing to do with it and you know it. Losing him would hurt you, and you know I would do anything to keep you from being hurt.”
“Except this,” Subaru whispered.
“I can’t, Subaru-kun.”
Subaru stared at him for a long second, then turned and left the office. Seishirou sat down with a thud, pulling out a cigarette.
-- my greatest fear . . . is that you would hurt me again -
Seishirou lit up and smoked in silence, trying not to think.
-- you never liked him anyway -
“It’s not that, Subaru-kun,” Seishirou said softly to himself. “I don’t like Johnny. But I owe him. We both do.”
He stubbed the cigarette out and left his office, walking in the direction of Ueno Park.
What I said wasn’t true, Subaru-kun . . . Seishirou thought, sighing. Johnny isn’t the sacrifice. We are.
Fuuma was waiting for him.
“That was quick,” he said with a smile. “Come to a decision?”
Seishirou pulled out another cigarette and made a mental note to buy more. “Yes,” he said. “I’ll work for you.” ***