Kouchi na Uso (An Elaborate Lie)
Written by Jeldi
Series: X/Tokyo Babylon
Rating: PG-13/R
Pairing: S/S
This fic has spoilers up to volume 16 of X. It also contains shounen-ai relationships (male/male relationships), so if that offends you, don't read any farther.
Disclaimer: We all know that these characters belong to CLAMP. And CLAMP, the gracious mangaka they are, even consent to us messing with the characters more so than they already are.
Kouchi na Uso – Chapter 1
Lights from the Tokyo high-rises illuminated the night sky, creating a surreal parody of day. Despite the damages the central area of Shinjuku had suffered from the supernatural tremors earlier in the year, the outlaying areas of the district had retained their lively nature. Even from the far-removed vantage of his apartment's windows, he could still see the rubble and building skeletons that had marked the site of the battle for Shinjuku's kekkai. Shifting his gaze to look out over the expanse of cityscape, Subaru recalled an exchange from his past, filling his heart with a pang of regret and sadness.
Subaru sighed, his breath frosting the glass before him. How loaded a statement that had been. Had Seishirou known about the city's fate in 1999? Subaru couldn't help but wonder at the older man's cryptic statement. It had seemed out of place at the time, but he had never questioned it. Now, with the Promised Day fast approaching, it was hard to believe that Seishirou had been referring to anything but the trials the metropolis faced for the fate of the world.
Shaking his head, Subaru looked back into the apartment, its shadowed features corresponding to his views on life. The dull shades of grey had replaced the bright pure colors of his innocent childhood. As a small child he was told that plants needed sunlight in order to survive, and that people needed human contact for the same reason. If a plant was given no sunlight with which to grow, what of an individual that had no contact with others? His emotions had curled up within himself like the leaves of a plant that had no nutrients.
He caught his reflection in the full-length standing mirror, illumination from the window glinting across its metallic surface. This mirror had replaced the one he had smashed in anger at seeing his sister's face staring back at him after she had died. Its newer design stood testament to the significant changes in his life. The metallic glass reflected his spare form clothed in simple black jeans and T-shirt; it pointed out the hollowness in his cheeks and the bags under his eyes. The last few weeks had not been kind to the Sumeragi. Since that night beneath the lights of Rainbow Bridge, he had been haunted by images and half-spoken confessions.
Shaking his head to clear his mind of that train of thought, Subaru looked out once more over the city he both loved and hated, and bid it a silent farewell. This would be the last time he would look over the lights of Shinjuku. Focusing on the task at hand, he pushed away from the glass of the window and walked over to face the ceremonial setup in the middle of the sitting room's hardwood floor. It was a low white clothed table with a circular mirror centered along its length. Vases of herb sprigs and single unlit taper candles flanked each side of the mirror. A narrow, half-meter long item set length-wise across the table's surface, wrapped in a purple and gold-embroidered cloth. With the grace and surety of a Sumeragi clan onmyouji he settled before the table. However, to anyone with an eye for the magical, his aura gave off an air of fatigue and ill-health that most mediums knew better than to practice in.
He took a moment to light the candles, holding his lighter briefly over each wick until the flame caught and flared. Their miniature fire did little to fight back the dimness of the room; they appeared as bright points of light on the verge of being swallowed by darkness. For a long time Subaru sat stalk still with eyes half-lidded gazing into those flames, as if in meditation; the glow drawing a vague shifting shadow out behind his form. To the casual observer it would appear as if he had fallen asleep; only his still posture belied this assumption. Seconds crept by into minutes and still he did not stir. The silence was utterly complete, interrupted only occasionally by the creaks of the high-rise as it settled.
The grandfather clock chimed the hour, its clang reverberating through the apartment, shattering the silence with its rhythmic metallic sound. As the twelfth and final clang died out Subaru opened his eyes fully, his mismatched gaze of emerald and opal stared back at him from the mirror's surface. Looking away from his glassy reflection, he focused on the wrapped object, reaching out with his right hand to lift it from the table's surface. Pulling on the woven tie with his free hand, the cloth fell away revealing the ordinate sheath of a ceremonial dagger.
Discarding the cloth and sheath, Subaru set the bare blade back on the table, a set of elaborately brush-stroked characters visibly written down its length. From beneath the table he produced a shallow dish of water and an elaborately scripted ofuda. In his right hand he held out the ofuda to the flame, letting the edge alight. He brought his other hand to reach out over the surface of the water in the bowl, intoning a low chant. As the ofuda began to burn down, he lifted his left hand away from the bowl allowing the talisman's ashes to dust the surface of the water. As the ofuda burned down to his fingers he let go, allowing the last vestiges of the paper burn to ash as it fell. With the talismanic water ready for the purification, Subaru lifted the bowl above the table, and tipped it as it passed over the blade. Setting aside the dish, he held out his hands over the blade chanting a different string of syllables in a low monotone voice. The characters along the blade flared briefly and then settled back to their inky black shade.
With the purification done, Subaru wiped the blade with a cloth that had been hidden under the table. He then picked the blade up, its surface flashing with illumination from the candles. A single tear traced its way down his cheek, the first he had shed since he had lost the one thing that tied him to his wretched existence. Mentally he apologized to his sister and Grandmother, knowing they would never have understood his actions this night. Though it had been his sister's intent that the spell would allow him to live, it had only succeeded in giving him a further reason to die. Placing the blade tip to his heart, he paused for a second, his subconscious mind's survival reaction trying to overpower his conscious mind's irrationality.
Because of that moment's hesitation, Subaru never completed the action. A piercing screech echoed through the apartment and a dark form dived down at Subaru, ripping through his outer apartment wards as if they were rice paper. The attack on the shield momentarily stunned him and in that moment the dark form wrenched the dagger from his slack grasp. Subaru fell back from the attack, defensively holding his hands before him. His movement had upset the table arrangement, causing both mirror and vases to shatter as they hit the floor. Mentally gathering the frayed edges of his wards, Subaru tried to reform something of a defense in case of a second attack. The fatigue, however, was taking its toll and the harder he tried to redirect the failing barrier, the more it frayed.
The shikigami glided back toward to balcony's sliding door and deposited the knife into an outstretched hand. The glass door was now open, a human form silhouetted against the moonlight. Once more the shikigami circled that end of the room, then swooped to alight on the figure's shoulder.
Subaru stared in incredulity, frantically thinking, This can't be...I must be hallucinating due to lack of sleep and stress. This can not in any scope of logic be anything other than a figment of my imagination. The cold air blowing in from the balcony doorway prevented him from completely believing that sentiment. He attempted to stand up and face the illusion for what it was. However, the motion to stand caused his vision to swim and he slumped back to the ground. Redirecting the wards had drained what little reserves he had had left, leaving him with nothing more than the determination to not pass out.
Bracing himself on his arms, he stared hard at the hardwood floor trying to regain his center of balance. It was becoming difficult to focus, and the room was beginning to appear rather peculiar. His ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps, but his mind was unwilling to process that information into anything resembling action. It wasn't until a pair of classy dress shoes came into his range of vision that he looked up, wide-eyed, disbelief still evident in his expression. For a brief second, the sixteen-year-old Subaru had surfaced in that eye; the look his face he had had when his life had been turned on its end.
"What is this all about, Subaru-kun?" Shaking his head as he looked down at the Sumeragi, Seishirou smiled reassuringly, his expression a mirror of those from their days of the bet. Subaru looked downward again and mumbled something unintelligible, the words muffled by tears he was trying so hard to hold back.
Seishirou knelt beside him, tilting his chin back up causing the room to sway suddenly in his vision. Not needing to hear what Subaru had said, he clearly saw the pain and suffering swirling around in that mismatched gaze. "Why won't I just let you die? I think you know that answer to that." Cupping Subaru's cheek, he smiled, one much softer than any of his fake smiles, "Besides, what would Hokuto-chan think of this? She would not be happy with either of us if you had succeeded."
Subaru's consciousness was fading; he found it hard to latch onto Seishirou's words and form any sort of coherent meaning with them. Though it was impossible to concentrate, he was vainly trying to find reason as to why Seishirou was actually before him…Seishirou-san had died at Rainbow Bridge….hadn't he?
As Subaru's vision darkened further, he strangled out a halting and weak, "S-Seishirou-san". Though he tried to fight it, his fatigue and ill-health finally caught up with him; his eyes glazed over and his supporting arms gave way. Seishirou caught him as he crumpled to the ground; he was looking worse off than when he had been awake. His breath was shallow and slow, his skin becoming pallid and clammy.
Seishirou shook his head and shifted to scoop up the prone form of the Sumeragi, cradling Subaru's head against his shoulder. He noted that, while most people looked relaxed and calm in sleep, Subaru was tense. It was also obvious by his slight form that he had not been taking proper care of himself. He is far past both reasonable physical and emotional limits for using spells, Seishirou thought.
Turning his attention toward the chaotic mess of shattered glass and upturned table, Seishirou's deep voice echoed in the nearly empty apartment, "Perhaps this has gone on long enough. It should never have gone far enough for you to contemplate this, Subaru-kun." A look of regret passed through his good eye, a momentary flash of gold through honey brown that could have easily been missed.
Picking up the unconscious onmyouji, Seishirou carried him from the sitting room and settled him onto the bed, drawing the covers up. He sat on the edge of the bed, a silent watchman over his younger counterpart's slumber. Subaru's brow was already creased into a frown, no doubt due to nightmares his subconscious mind was creating.
Seishirou reached over and brushed the hair away from Subaru's eyes, the tension in his face relaxing at the contact; though he noted from that brief contact Subaru was already coming down with a fever. He should never have been practicing in this state, Seishirou thought, recognizing the fever as one of the most common signs of sakanagi. If it is this bad from a simple purification spell and maintaining his wards, it is a good thing he didn't try anything more creative than that. He is worse off than I first thought.
Shaking his head once again, Seishirou reached into his pocket, fishing out his cell phone. He had always found it vaguely amusing that he carried one, since he had no need of it. He did have to admit it came in handy at times. Like now...
Flipping the phone open, he dialed a number that he would have never dared forget, a number that brought bitter memories of arguments and strained agreements to mind. The digital buzz rang several times before a tired, elderly voice picked up on the other line. "This is the Kyoto Sumeragi residence."
Smiling to himself he idly wondered at the reaction he was about to receive. "Lady Sumeragi, it has been a while has it not?"
tsuzuku…