A/N: Written as a Yuletide 2015 exchange gift for Cthonical (Nellie).
Beautiful emerald eyes stared at him without fear or contempt. Sunken, dull, and blank eyes. Eyes void of their once expressive shine and connection to the spirit of life. He looked like a precious little doll—an ornament sitting daintily in Seishirou's armchair with hands politely resting at his sides, unobtrusive.
Just like Subaru always was—polite to a fault. Innocent. Except right now, in his bubblewrapped mindset in the catatonic state, he less resembled the wide-eyed Subaru he had spent a year with.
Seishirou could not help but watch those once mesmerizing eyes. Those eyes once sparkled like the ocean currents and grinned with lustrous happiness. Foolish emotions had never swayed him, but Seishirou always appreciated a pretty thing, and Subaru had been just that.
Wrangling away his Subaru-kun from the Sumeragi estate had been child's play. Even so, the 12th Sumeragi head was not one to trifle with. She was not a woman fully underestimated in her own home. After all, her precious and only granddaughter died due to a blow from his hand. While it had been a mutual death (with Hokuto's silly assessment—her fondness for him, she had stated), that meant nothing. Based on the disturbed energies of the estate the 12th Sumeragi head was distraught.
Not that Seishirou particularly had an established interest in the 12th Sumeragi head's feelings. None of that mattered. All that had pressed him on revolved around Subaru's recovery. Aiding from the Tree and illusionary magic proved another daily venture, nothing new.
But for now. . . .
Subaru was unresponsive to everything he had attempted to wake him. Sarcastic commentary, quipping insults, reminders regarding Hokuto's death—not one thing penetrate the iron walls Subaru had built around his inner heart, his dreamscape.
Even for Subaru, the fuzzy images of Seishirou's face blurred in and out of his memory. Seishirou might as well have been a blurry and worn face in an instant photograph, a relic of a time that never meant anything but tragedy. He should have seen nothing. Felt nothing. Been nothing but a passing though. Subaru had never been anything but gullible.
Seishirou wondered if it were possible to keep Subaru situated like this in the armchair forever. Logically, that would be impossible, but he rather liked Subaru as a display item for the main room. Subaru would do finely rather than lackluster illustration of a portrait hanging on the farthest wall, or the greenery appeal of potted plants against the windowsill.
Yet again, Subaru's potential was far higher than a mere hanged puppet. It was truly a shame. Too bad Subaru had never fully utilized his advantages while the chance had been opportune.
Seishirou scooted closer. He practically loomed above the armrest of the chair, knees digging into the red carpet under him. He took one of Subaru's hands in his and cradled it. That hand. Cold, so cold. Cold like ice stretched too thin.
"Subaru-kun is beautiful, you know."
Seishirou inhaled his scent. It was almost heavenly—untainted like that of sunflowers, or a crystal waterfall. Part of Seishirou had missed this scent. Only sometimes had he ever gotten close enough to Subaru to even bask in it.
"I never should have failed to kill you. But, you know, I have this chance. Perhaps fate was on my side after all."
Every time he had tried, Subaru ran.
As Subaru should have, of course. There was no in between to waiting around; Seishirou would strike without fail.
But Subaru had never run too far from him, which had been his main downfall.
Pitiful, really. Just like his family "hiding" him out in Kyoto had proven worthless.
Over two months had passed since the bet's end. Tracking Subaru to Kyoto (at the famous Sumeragi mansion, no less) and bringing him to his apartment high-rise had taken minimal effort. Traveling with Subaru back from Kyoto to Tokyo was no small feat for someone wielding masterful illusions; all he had done was wrap them in magic and clutch Subaru against his chest so no one else would touch him. It was a trivial thought when Subaru was half dead to the world, but Seishirou never made mistakes. Never.
So far, Subaru had been here for about a day, give or take. Despite what Seishirou had hoped for, or may not have hoped for, Subaru had shown no signs to fight.
Subaru, meanwhile, stared into the Seishirou's face as he ruminated over his victory. Inside, just as his outside, stark and bitter numbness seized his body. Nothing felt reachable or worthy of considering in his absent state. Not even that Seishirou threatened to kill him again. He should die. Die. Die.
Subaru saw nothing but that grey of uncertainty. He did not want to live anymore. Not without Hokuto at his side cheering him on every day. Time had elapsed painfully in the time his wounds had mended. Now he only sought the numbness, the luring death taunted.
Even so, Seishirou's hands were like an ocean wave flowing over his skin—the anchor that chained him to a meager semblance of reality. It faintly registered in the back of his mind that, beyond his own wishes and his horror with the bet's ending… this sensation was Seishirou. Seishirou, Seishirou, Seishirou. Basking in that distant warmth was all he had.
Forget monster and spirits; warmth and love had once been the worst fairytales.
Even if he entered the real world again, all Subaru would have to look forward to would be searing pain. Not physically, mind, but emotionally. Who knew where he had gone? After all, Subaru had not been able to touch his heart in an entire year. It would be easier to simply give up. No point in trying.
"Wake up, Subaru-kun." Seishirou gently, a deceiving gentleness, traced a path across Subaru's cheek. Soft and pale skin met his fingers as he brushed the black hair on his forehead. "How about this? I'm feeling generous; I will allow you have the first attack. Anything you feel may kill me, I'll accept it."
While it would be preferable Seishirou's apartment remained in pristine condition and without destruction overshadowing his preference for the refined, he would hardly complain if Subaru snapped out of his despair. Fighting would be the natural outcome between them. It was a ritual destined sooner than later for them. Seeing Subaru with a spark of life, and the thrilling need to kill him, would please him.
He would own that. Subaru's anger. Kindness had gotten nowhere, but Subaru's truest and rawest emotions would be reserved only for Seishirou.
Seishirou had won the bet after all.
Ne response. Not even a rustle.
Indeed, Seishirou was being unusually forthcoming today. Subaru rejecting him would prove just how weak he was.
Seishirou wondered if he saw something flash in Subaru's eyes. The wheels in Subaru's head were grinding, but in the way Seishirou wished for; Subaru's lips were pressed tight, lost in the images and valleys too far from him to cross. Revenge had all but been ripped from right underneath him, and those eyes were of someone dead to the world.
"No? Continuing where we left off in the hospital is inevitable, you know. Hokuto-chan would have wanted us to settle our differences. She pleaded for our fate, didn't she?" Seishirou continued. The silence of the dark room echoed every syllable of his underlying message. "I can't in good conscious kill you without a challenge. You present no challenge."
Would Subaru feel something if he changed up their pace? Perhaps things were getting too stale. Fingers drew a long line down Subaru's face and dropped to Subaru's lap. Seishirou circled his wrist. Ah, his hand, the hand that belonged to him and him only; the pentagram proved that. In a moment peaceful of respite Seishirou enjoyed the feeling of the vein in Subaru's hand and the pentagram. While it connected him to Subaru, it was also his mark of failure. The mark Subaru had triumphantly w—
Without warning, Seishirou twisted Subaru's wrist sharply to the left; a pop of bones shifted under the pressure. Despite his state, Subaru jolted in his spot. No bones broke, but Subaru's breath quickened, body shocked and alert to the sense of pain.
Not yet. Nothing would break yet.
Subaru was swimming towards the edge of consciousness. This was the goal.
"Such a disappointment. What should be done to pull you from those dreams? I never knew Subaru-kun could be this selfish," Seishirou told him, smirking. "At this rate, I fear you won't wake up for months. Where's the fun in that?"
Even this caused rouse in Subaru's curious condition. He had expected no difference in expression even though a sudden strike would turn the tables in a pleasant direction—Subaru could almost have the upperhand for just a moment in this state, blissfully out of tune from the world until he decided it was time.
Just for a minute, mind.
Seishirou would never be caught off guard from such a trick regardless.
Losing interest in his hand, Seishirou cupped Subaru's chin in palm. He ran his finger along Subaru's right eye. It was perfect and normal and everything Seishirou's stabbed eye no longer was.
Let me have him.
A lone cherry blossom floated in front of him. Swift and gentle, it materialized out of nowhere. Taking one moment to break away from Subaru, Seishirou caught the petal. He caressed it in response, and the slightest shake of his head explained all that needed to be elaborated.
Those words were not so much intelligible as an undercurrent of skin-deep attachment. The Tree could not talk coherently like a spirit, but neither did she have to speak. She had a will that demanded attention. A fierce insistence; she refused imprisonment by her beloved Sakurazukamori's wishes. The Sumeragi head's presence riled up those ancient misforgivings and stirred the Tree's thirst for a droplet of blood.
So Subaru wanted to play that game. Seishirou expected a degree of defiance. Subaru stared blankly at Seishirou still, face drooped and unfocused. He would not be detoured despite that hindrance.
Subaru really was a lovely doll—it almost made the whole situation worthwhile. Those joyous emotions he had shown so long ago were nothing but a nuisance.
Seishirou rested his head on Subaru's shoulder. He listened to the soft breaths that tickled his hair, the rhythm of low heartbeat. It beat benevolently nonetheless. Subaru had some purpose, and that was him.
Subaru should have wanted to revenge. He had suffered tremendously. Worse, he had humiliated Seishirou on another level when failing to eliminate his prey had become his major regret. Seishirou did not dwell on inadequate things—he made them right, no matter the cost.
Yet that catatonic state kept Subaru alluded from him; Subaru's mind drifted miles and miles away in a desert of nostalgic memories and a love stricken through with a rusted knife. That was the sentimental Subaru he remembered.
All Seishirou had to do was try harder.
But what will you do with him, the Tree prompted him, the voice distant but on the verge of impatience and amusement.
The whisper curled through Seishirou's ear, tickling him affectionately. If the Tree could not have its way immediately, it would simply submit temporarily.
For now, Seishirou could do little. There would be no point without prepping Subaru for a fight. Raising the scales would be the only way to get what he wanted, tip them until Subaru could take no more. Acting once again like the vet might shake him. Such an idea was stagnant like the water in a drying puddle without a proper end. Tending to Subaru gently, lovingly, like a warm-hearted husband... Would that make him break?
No, he decided. It would not.
So then. . . .
Carelessly dropping the petal on the carpet, Seishirou smiled. "I suppose the likes of which Subaru-kun allows me before he wakes from those dreams."
Something at the corner of his eye, a twitch maybe, caused to Seishirou to wonder if Subaru had reacted to that.
To Subaru, those dreams were reality. To him, nothing was real anymore. That voice. That was all that echoed through his brain, the baritone and rough tones of Seishirou's voice. While he talked—Seishirou had always said nice things about him before. Such nice things.
Now the waves washed away the line Subaru had written in the sane. He had always wanted what Seishirou had wanted. If Seishirou wanted, then. . . .
Fingers hooked on Seishirou's shirt. At first Subaru's grip was weak and clumsy, unable to properly keep the fabric in his hand. But then he clutched at him, as if Seishirou were a flimsy lifeline.
"Sei. . . ."
The whisper was almost inaudible. If anyone other Seishirou had been listening, hearing would have been impossible.
"Seishi. . . ."
Seishirou chuckled. He should have given Subaru a tad more credit. Maybe he was not fully awake. Not quite yet. Subaru still had the willpower to evade succumbing to the promise of death in a dream.
"Excellent, Subaru-kun. Good morning." Glancing out the curtains to the neon lights dancing across Tokyo's skyline, Seishirou reconsidered that sentiment." Or, rather, middle of the night."
For a respectable and young clan head to bow to another so easily, especially one older—it would have been a shame of one's dignity. Not to mention, Tokyo's protector brought to the darkness, the flip side of the coin he hated... Seishirou would not have stood this recklessness from the one person that had managed to escape under farfetched pretenses.
Subaru would be a part of the darkness. Soon, soon. With just a little more time.
Seishirou fanned his palm along Subaru's neck. The calm hum of his soul indication he was in that husk—the skin, the bones, the blood dripping through his veins. Alive. Any movement did well for Seishirou. Luckily, Subaru's body was too willing to cooperate with his touch; Subaru involuntary shivered, the warmth of his skin tickling Seishirou's fingers.
"Yes? If you have something to say, you should say it instead of keeping me in suspense,' Seishirou encouraged.
Subaru's lips opened before closing. He did this a few times before giving up. His eyes, though, seemed the gather some of the shine Seishirou remembered.
Things were getting somewhere.
"Now I see you won't permanently live in your dreams. There's a lot that needs to doing." Seishirou rested his head against the crook of Subaru's shoulder. His skin was so clammy, white. "You're cold. What should I do to warm you up?"
Even with a simple white shirt and pants on (which, indeed, fit him despite that black was not his color), Subaru's skin imitated marble. Seishirou supposed Subaru had had not heard... yet Subaru clung to him, and this time he drew Seishirou closer with a tug. There was a whimper of protest against something, but Seishirou only took it as inspiration.
"Always so cute," Seishirou said. He laid a light butterfly kiss to the skin between Subaru's collarbones and his throat. "Remember, Subaru-kun? I would never do break your will, or hurt you."
Just like that, he was the trusting vet. The remainder of what existed of that.
Subaru's fingers closed around Seishirou's black shirt. Tighter. Stronger. Angrier. He tried to angle his neck away on reflex.
Perfection.
Could Subaru even differentiate between him and the vet persona? Perhaps not. Subaru must have only been in this state for as long as Hokuto death.
Seishirou had only been able to see most of his catatonic state's progression, but the thoughts underneath that exterior were what captivated him. He had been able to spy with the Tree, or glance in through the window himself with his shikigami. Seishirou should know so many things about Subaru that still seemed elusive.
Maybe the more he talked, the angrier Subaru would just become.
"You don't want to leave me, do you? I feel like you're leaving me. Just like Hokuto-chan told me not to take you away, you're the one who's here with me now," Seishirou told him with the upmost patience in his tone. A fingernail dug in the soft skin of Subaru's neck.
Subaru gasped. His head tilted the slightest bit back in shock. His eyes were still unfocused. He clasped Seishirou's sleeve and refused to let go
"Hokuto-chan," Subaru whispered. This dawned on him on repeat as it had for the last month, and the emotion was no less than murder. "I lost Hokuto-chan."
"Now you have me," Seishirou said.
"Seishirou-san abandoned me." The words were clipped, meandering, dark and cruel. "Seishirou-san isn't here anymore. He left me. He left me . . . . to die. . . ."
The glimmer of hope drained from Subaru's expression again. No, he would not retreat into himself that easily.
Seishirou pressed his cheek to Subaru's, leaning close. Subaru did not move.
"That's not true. I'm right here beside you," Seishirou reminded. Yes, he once upon a time had wanted to see Subaru blood drip on his hands simply for witnessing the little girl's murder under the Tree nine years ago. He still wanted that. With time, with time. But now. . . . now. . . . "Hokuto-chan isn't here. She abandoned you because of a silly wish. A silly ideal she wanted granted."
Only one word seemed to make it through to Subaru's foggy brain. "Wish?"
Seishirou sighed. "It doesn't matter. You're here with me, aren't you?"
Subaru could hear it. The deceptive gentleness of Seishirou's voice never ceased to take hold of him like a curse. The words that he wanted to hear. He had always wanted Seishirou to take care of him like this, even if he had never let those feelings come to the forefront of his heart. Seishirou was . . . was. . . .
Seishirou was there. Hokuto was not.
And just like the year of the bet, he was so nice. So nice. Maybe . . . maybe it had all been a nightmare shrouded in mist.
Maybe Seishirou really was kind.
"You. . . ." Subaru trailed off.
A heartbeat passed as lips met Subaru's. It was an inviting kiss for him to forget everything, just know him, not question. Something in Subaru almost wanted to respond. And Subaru did not, seemingly shocked from the little he understood.
Glass shattered everywhere but there was no noise. No noise but the screams in Subaru's head banging on his skull.
"I'm here with you, right, Subaru-kun?" Seishirou asked him. He stared deep into those eyes, and yes, marveled at how he still wanted to be closer to him. "I may have hurt you, but I'm still here with you."
Subaru's eyes shut, and he breathed in deeply. "Seishirou-san is here."
Seishirou smiled. His hand dropped, and he pulled away, allowing Subaru's hand to drop from his shirt. Subaru reached out to an empty and solid nothingness.
With this kindness, if he continued on this pain, Subaru's anger would boil over. All he would crave was his blood.
"I wonder how much you can handle?" Seishirou was captivated with this idea. Just to see how long he could hunt these emotions down. With touches Subaru would acknowledge that he was there. Yes, he would bring those emotions to light; he would witness their finest, rawest intensity.
Beautiful. Subaru was beautiful.
The idea intrigued him. So many times during the bet, Seishirou had touched Subaru constantly. His hands, the pentagrams, his blushing face, or a hug once or twice when Subaru needed one the most when he was crying about a case. In those moments when Seishirou had touched him, Subaru had been jerky and unsettled. Yes. But they were alive, as Hokuto had crowed over and over again.
Subaru only lived when he was touched. Whenever Seishirou had poured attention on Subaru, he had been truly and magnificently alive and selfish. Not the shell that robotically helped every person in need, nor was passive.
Just like two months ago, the touch of love had disappeared. Subaru had all but retreated into himself for that touch of the imagination. Now, sought out that approval he craved from the one person that mattered. That had been a cocoon too frozen for even the bravest of souls.
Seishirou wanted to crack that cocoon. He wanted to bring that person back—the only person that had gotten away. The only person that had given him a purpose for anything was him. Seishirou's purpose was his only real commitment to anything.
Subaru was his.
If Subaru was not alive without touch; Seishirou would bring him to life.
Seishirou encircled his arms around Subaru, picking him up. Subaru once again clung to his arm. Ah—he barely had a healthy weight. Hokuto would have been out of straights, irate with how much weight he had lost this time.
"Honestly, Subaru-kun, you mean to tell me the Sumeragi house's servants didn't bother to feed their leader properly?" Seishirou shook his head, remorseful that such beauty had gone to waste on people who could not appreciate it.
But if he really was Seishirou's doll, he would fix that in a jiffy. For the better. So much like a doll. A petite china doll that would shatter with the right strength.
You wouldn't miss— the Tree began.
Seishirou shook his head again. This time he was more forceful, not in the mood for another attempt at his younger companion's life. "I won't miss him when he's gone, if I do kill him," he agreed. He shifted Subaru in his arms and rested his head higher on his chest. "Until then, I must keep my guest entertained."
Cherry blossoms floated past him. Based on this reaction Seishirou knew the Tree was sullen about his denial, but she said nothing more and became silent.
Now alone with the only distraction that mattered, Seishirou was satisfied.
Sweeping Subaru off to the bedroom, Seishirou deposited him on the satin sheets. Breath trailed against Seishirou's neck, and Seishirou pried Subaru's hands from his shirt as just to enjoy the thrill. Dropping him, Subaru flopped on the covers, carelessly tossed. Subaru's chest evenly rose and fell, some of that alertness from earlier having faded.
To be intimate . . . for Seishirou to be intimate with something, even if it was not purely sexual in nature . . . it was not common sense. A thing should not have meant any semblance of attachment. In fact, all Seishirou wanted was Subaru's breakaway from that shell; killing him was the logical reasoning. Seishirou would pull from the reservoir he had been swallowed into. If he could not have that, he refused to kill Subaru outright.
Subaru's eyes went in and out of focus. He blinked slowly at the faint glitter and luminous lights pouring in through the red curtains. He blinked once again rapidly, then winced as he realized. . . .
. . . realized where he was. . . .
Yes, he knew where he was and was not in theory. Maybe the world had played a cruel and vicious prank on him out of spite.
Subaru's voice croaked, sore and airy. "I hate you," Subaru whispered. His lips quirked into the grimace of agony. As he regained his senses, his throat felt like dried glue sticking to cotton. His tongue was heavy and weak like a low wave, his thoughts dogpaddling to the catch up with his own insecurities.
Seishirou decided this was self-explanatory. He would not deny it. "I am after all your sister's killer." All pleasantry and smiles dominated Seishirou's face. Finally Subaru had realized the truth that was the unbalance between them.
Subaru's lips twitched. He reached out a hand in search of something. Eventually, he found his target when brushed Seishirou's pants leg, gripping on tight.
It was cute that Subaru had so much determination left, Seishirou decided.
Something vital still seemed off about him. Subaru breathed rapidly, shaking.
"I can't help it." Subaru stared at the ceiling past Seishirou's shoulder. He refused to acknowledge that Seishirou was hovering over him, or at least he could make out no other sights, He was beginning to slowly recede from the depths of his own mind. It was a slow-burning process. "Even when you hurt me, I can't help my feelings. . . ."
"Realized what, Subaru-kun?" He would humor him. Until he had his sights on revenge, this was all he could hope to achieve. And even then, he would know how to keep Subaru under his control.
While this was news to Seishirou, he was not going to wait for explanations.
Seishirou unbuttoned the top of Subaru's shirt. Creamy, warm skin; skin pure and lovely but so incredibly pale from not visiting the outdoors and sunshine. His chest rose and fell in rhythm. Seishirou watched, transfixed, not allowing a single second to pass him by. So much life in something that should not be alive. . . .
Subaru did not continue where he had left off, and he only seemed to pay attention to the hands on him.
Subaru, for his part, could hear the faintest sounds of Seishirou's voice. It was like a waterfall in his ears still, but he still heard it, the baritone of his voice low and dark against his ear. All he wanted was to fly towards it. For whatever reason it meant whether to hurt or seek the truth.
Maybe love and hurt were one and the same entity. Maybe that was what he had signed up for this whole time—happiness through pain without ever knowing.
An unpleasant notion, that.
The bedsprings creaked under Seishirou's weight once he joined him, fuzzy blue slippers kicked off to the side thoughtlessly. With Subaru's neck exposed, Seishirou's lips pressed to his skin and rapid pulse point. He could feel that reminder of life redundant and sluggishly moving in his veins, but Subaru exceeded being the ordinary doll he had attributed him to be early on.
Time to speed that up a notch.
"Subaru-kun may need a reminder of who I am, I would expect," Seishirou decided. "You do need a little push."
Teeth sank in the soft skin of Subaru's neck. The skin was almost paper thin, too supple from the lack of nutrients he consumed. Seishirou could feel the blood in his veins throb under his teeth; the taste of salt and liquid as rich and vital as the tang of a fruity wine as the spurt of blood spilled on his lips.
Subaru would still be richer, stronger, and lovelier than all blood combined.
Subaru jolted from the sharpness—this seemed rouse him higher out of his delusions. Somehow, instinctively, he arms wrapped around Seishirou's waist. It was the lightest of hugs; just a need for something, anything to hold onto, the comfort of the closest warm body.
And for once, Seishirou was there.
Subaru could feel it, something in the outside world trying to claw its way into his consciousness. All he could tell were the cherry blossoms, the strong and familiar scent. And then . . . him. Over the years he had become so adapt to detecting what was outside in the spiritual realm. And this . . . the familiar spirit so close to him—it was intoxicating, a fresh breath of air in the springtime. In fact, it was completely unmerciful like he had been that day.
That was what Seishirou was to him now. He was a spirit that had come back to him, claiming him body and soul. Perhaps the vet Seishirou he had known would not have been this immediately brutal. But Subaru had nothing to complain about. Yes. . . .
And suddenly he was awake again. The world of sensation crashed down like the rays of sunshine after the hurricane. There was pain, and light, and even the warmth he had just sought out. Even the scent of cherry blossoms mixed with musty cigarette smoke was like home.
"Sei... shi..." Subaru started, shaky. He panted slightly and twitched violently. He gripped the small of Seishirou's back, seeking support. "Seishirou-san."
Despite his non-immersion in reality, a flicker of thoughtfulness flickered across Subaru's face. Subaru was able to fully recognize him. What would come of that, Seishirou himself did not know. Maybe he was just too lost in fantasy to honestly care. Not that it made a difference in this state.
"Impressive," Seishirou observed. Subaru spoke his name. Subaru was pushing himself out of his languid daze, swimming through the riptides that endlessly washed over his logic to stay clear of him. He was quite stubborn.
The bloodflow was not too much, but enough. Blood curled over his tongue, and Seishirou lapped it up, the vein in Subaru's neck throbbing with the rough treatment. Even when he pulled away the blood pooled in one neat circle.
Blood meant life. Subaru was alive.
A perfect chance wrapped in a gift bow.
Going too far might rock the boat a little too far—Subaru might break just a little too soon, and he rather liked the idea of dotting on him for a while longer. No; Seishirou would take this slowly exactly as he pleased, and he would see if this was satisfactory.
Through all this, Subaru could not help but envision Seishirou standing in front of him. A bright smile. Seishirou had hugged him during the year of the bet like this, too, and everything had been crystal. Not a blemish, not a lie—except the lies underneath. Lies buried deep.
And now it hurt . . . but he liked that.
Perhaps he truly had the lines blurred between the kind vet and a sociopath. But then, what was Subaru's own reality?
Subaru tasted iron and blood as lips descended on his. Seishirou kissed him, passionate, wanting to hear those pants and breaths only Subaru could make.
Seishirou's fingers continued their dance over Subaru's buttons, unpinning them one at a time, leaving slow but deliberate pokes along Subaru's chest. He finished unbuttoning the remainder, and lifting Subaru briefly at the waist, pulled the shirt over his head. It was tossed in the engulfing darkness. Like a curtain the expanse of Subaru's chest was revealed. Feasting his eyes on the main course, he was both amused and irritated with Subaru's state. The flat and pallor skin resembled nothing like the ruddy and muscled contours of own broad chest. Subaru's ribcage was more prominent while Seishirou's had healthy weight. Seishirou traced a line up the curve of that ribcage; the skin was softer here, warmer from the warmth of his shirt.
"Would you let me have you, Subaru-kun? Is that what you're thinking right now?" Seishirou's fingernail scraped across his skin then and snagged in the skin, leaving a light but redden trailed in its wake. "You are awake, aren't you? You want to feel alive like every other human being; that's how people make it through this city every day. The ones that strive for their goals. Those people are not like ones that have presence."
Subaru's eyes glazed over. He titled his head, but something like anger seized his heart. That sounded like even his old Seishirou would have said—how people destroyed themselves in Tokyo through living. The others were forgotten. It was . . . by saying this, it was almost like this crueler Seishirou had killed the kind one.
So he had his interest. Seishirou traced his tongue along his skin again. This time he paused to admire the texture of his nipple, flicking his tongue over it. "We could be intimate, yes, but I don't believe Subaru-kun's ready to make it worthwhile."
Seishirou enjoyed this pleasure. Life was all about pleasure, and if he could not have that, then there was nothing else worth living for. Subaru had been a bland face in the crowd, even as his enemy, before meeting him as a child.
But now...
Seishirou was mocking him. All over again, he mocked him again. His power and his ability for manhood were in jeopardy simply because Seishirou said, and Subaru agreed.
And then Subaru did something he did not expect. He propped himself up on his elbows, pushing away Seishirou in the process. He struggled to sit up but, with effort, he leaned close to Seishirou.
Subaru placed his head on Seishirou's chest next to Seishirou's heart on his suit shirt and listened to it beat through the cloth. It was kind, after all. That was the kind of gentle murmur his Seishirou's heart would make. Seishirou had made him feel that way so many times.
Bewildered somewhat, Seishirou did not bother to push him away. From an outsider's perspective, Subaru had simply given up to his will. "Are you accepting that you'll just never beat me?" Certainly, that was a logical conclusion.
Something still seemed strange.
Subaru sighed and buried his face in the shirt. He breathed in, the acrid cigarette smoke as strong as ever. The cologne under that was worse except sweeter—no, the cigarettes were always sweeter. He nuzzled his cheek against Seishirou's shirt with renewed happiness. He blinked once, twice, still completely out of reality but floored. Seishirou was in front of him, maybe his old Seishirou. He even dared put his arms lightly around him.
"This is the closest I'll get to Seishirou-san's heart," Subaru murmured. He folded his fingers in Seishirou's shirt just the way Seishirou had done. "Haven't you known? No, I never told you."
This was unsettling. Subaru was talking gibberish now, and Seishirou had no idea what he meant other than his persona. The vet's heart no longer existed in this time and space Subaru knew, nor the life Seishirou had taken up since. Having him believe it were real would just not do.
Seishirou roughly pried him off his shirt and held him in his arms. He bit him on the ear, fully as a distraction and testament to his intentions. Subaru gasped, now unsteady that he had lost his balance. Seishirou pinned Subaru down by the hips despite the struggle. Subaru did not look at him, but his words lingered in Seishirou's head. A heart. His heart. It would be all too easy to destroy Subaru's real one with his chest exposed to him. But yet his hands did not move to do so—all because of Hokuto's infernal wish, and Seishirou wished in return he had bothered to stop her curse rather than seeing it as an obstacle to conquer.
"Tell me?" Seishirou echoed.
Subaru made a motion with his lips. His lips curled back forth over his teeth as he hesitated, and he sighed, smiling with an almost broken crook of his mouth. "I was the most important person I ever had; I loved you more than anyone else."
Seishirou stared at him blankly. To be surprised would be foolish; Subaru did not feel an emotion for him such as that, and he already knew it was a lie. But for love to have existed at all—yes, he had deluded himself into thinking that the end of the bet had been about him all along.
Subaru had missed the entire point.
A look of bliss overshadowed any anger, and he smiled anyway. "I wasn't stabbed, but. . . ." Something hardened in his gaze then just as quickly as his face had softened. "I didn't know lies could become knives, too." He blinked at the phrase and stared at Seishirou in the eyes. A voice unashamed but firm. "But you're not him, right? You're not the Seishirou-san I fell in love with. You're an imposter. I'm just dreaming. Dreaming everything."
Frowning, Seishirou decided against asking again. A stabbing. Of course he was referring to his eye, the one that could no longer see. After all he had done not to make his injury out as a problematic inconvenience, Subaru could not ignore those thoughts.
On top of that, he accused Seishirou of not being real. As if he were not flesh and blood. Subaru had truly said that.
"But I'm right in front of you, Subaru-kun. Can't you see me?" Seishirou reasoned.
Subaru shook his head. He raised his hands and put them on Seishirou's, gently pulling them away from her shoulders. "You're here. But you're different." Subaru's eyebrows scrunched up as he thought. His eyes widened, alarmed. "Are you possessed by a spirit?" A burning pit of resentment bubbled in Subaru's stomach. He was the cause for Seishirou's transformation from a gentle soul to someone vicious. "I told you coming with me on all of those jobs would be bad, Seishirou-san. See? I told you. I was too weak to protect you on a job, or get close enough to you."
Seishirou watched as a tear slid down Subaru's eye and landed on his shirt.
Yes, Subaru was completely confused. He had lost control of his sensibilities. But that was fine—Seishirou would just iron them out for him in due time.
Subaru had snapped. Short, simple, and sweet. He could handle that.
After all, Subaru would not be going anywhere else besides his apartment rooms, especially the Sumeragi estate.
"I'm no spirit. But I'm not who you remember." No use in sugarcoating that much. Seishirou was baffled with that assumption only because it was so absurd. He would have been possessed a long time ago if any spirit were as powerful as he was. "You would know, Subaru-kun. Even you're that strong."
Seishirou craned his neck to the side, accessing the bite mark he had left. That would stay for a while, and as he gazed at it, he realized how many more he wanted to leave; a whole trail full of bite marks that claimed Subaru as his. He began where the red pool of blood still rested on Subaru's neck. He licked a bloody kiss down his throat, and then the top of chest, and right back up again.
Subaru had done nothing to stop him, and he in fact seemed at peace with this. But it was a change—his expression looked different, he seemed... happy.
If that's what he wanted... Seishirou would play that game. He could be kind and gentle until Subaru resurface in the world. He would see to it that Subaru knew that he was the only one there, the only one who would matter if his life. Yes, he would be the one who would be the closest to every killing him in his entire life. He would fail.
Subaru was not okay.
Betrayal hurt in a perfect way beyond that of the physical body. Betrayal bled in one's eyes, over the fabrications of happiness that had once seemed so real. Seishirou telling him he had loved him; that had been one happy moment that stood out from the rest. It was the icy rake of betrayal clawing down in one blow. It hurt Subaru like an explosion quietly ripping his skin to shreds. It was a slow-burning, all-consuming fever that lingered forever and maddened him.
Subaru was touching him, and it hurt.
Those gentle touches hurt.
Subaru did not stand for this.
When he moved, Subaru was quicker than lightning. While he was not fully himself, it was less languid and precise. Seishirou saw him move without having to defend himself and dropped back on the covers before the punch landed.
Honestly, a little punch? He could do so much more damage than that for his position, and Subaru a chose a mere punch as his best weapon. Weak.
"It's going to take a lot more than that to kill me. I assume that is your intention." Seishirou's eyes glinted in the dark. He elbowed his way higher on the blankets, waiting for Subaru to strike again.
Anger boiled up inside Subaru. Thoughts of Hokuto rushed back at him all at once. How dare he kill her...? How could Seishirou kill her after everything the three of them had been through? All of it had been act, but... Seishirou had gotten along with Hokuto the best out of their little comfortable and lively trio. Sometimes, Subaru had wondered, if he was even on par with Hokuto over the man he claimed love. For Seishirou to commit such an atrocity . . . and dare be so near Subaru after what he had done. . . .
To Subaru, that was unforgivable.
Fueled by the furthest vestiges of rage, Subaru reached into his pants pocket. With a flick of his wrist and a silent command, an ofuda morphed into a white dove. The dove soared high above the bed, lighting the room in a majestic glow. The shikigami's wings beat furiously in tune with its creator's command. A trail of light followed the shikigami as it dived at Seishirou's head.
A shikigami. Was Subaru serious?
Seishirou rolled on the bed and dodged the dove's onslaught. Easy enough. If he had thoroughly inspected Subaru and relieved him of any weapons earlier this whole fiasco may have been avoided, true. That defeated the point. Without the reel of danger there was nothing for Seishirou as amusement. This proved Subaru was listening and hearing—and most importantly—thinking about him.
The dove shrieked. It returned and aimed for the crown of his head, wings stretched gracefully in its fell swoop. Seishirou pulled out a leaflet of black ofuda from his breast pocket and chucked it at the dove; black and white collided, leaving the room in a blinding flash of light. Both vanished a moment later in a flash of sparkling mist.
Seishirou relaxed, sighing deeply. Taking care of Subaru's childish ill-temper had been nothing more than a stroll through Ueno Park, A stroll, mind, on a bright, sunny day near the cherry blossoms.
Far too underwhelming. Yet again, he had anticipated little in Subaru's current state. Was this the best he had at the moment? It was a joke for Seishirou.
Seishirou cupped Subaru's face in his hands. He smiled, stroking his chin with such gentle fingertips Subaru only relaxed. It was humiliating, Seishirou could see, but this was all he had in him. "You'll have to do much better than if you're upset next time. Nothing was even broken, and I believe we have a tradition to keep going," Seishirou chuckled.
Broken. Everything was broken. The mirrors of fate reflecting Subaru's life; the life he had wished to have. What was one single bedroom appliance or worldly memento worth in comparison?
Subaru's resolve completely crumbled. Even in the dark, the tiredness and horror of expending himself had taken its toll on Subaru's energy reserves. Just waking up, that was completely natural. Subaru sagged against Seishirou. He caught him and held him for a moment before dropping him back on the covers.
Subaru did not move much after that, but he allowed Seishirou to do the work. The pain in his neck dully throbbed with his sudden movements. Subaru had been still for so many days and nights in a chair that with even the slowest movement his body ached in retaliation. But, like Seishirou noticed, the formable challenge of caring about himself meant little to Subaru's affection-starved brain. To him... to him in this reality-dream, Seishirou had once again fled. He had run away and did not plan on returning. Once again his attacks had done nothing, just like every other time he had tried to attack him in his dreams.
This Seishirou was a fraud. No, he really was the genuine article. All along, he had known Seishirou was not possessed by anything other than the position of the Sakurazukamori. The darkness to his brightness, the blood to his healing. But it hurt. It hurt so much to even believe; the kind vet might as well have died.
Sometimes dreams could be crueler than the fiction of reality. And whatever Subaru was seeing, Seishirou could make it work for him in the long run.
Subaru was waking up. Not quite yet... he was not prepared to see the world as Seishirou saw it. Grey—everything in the world was grey to him, and not even the dark shadows playing against the ceiling of the dark room gave away that it was the middle of the night. It would take him a few days to recover. In the meantime, he would have to betray himself on top of Hokuto; he would have to stay, because he did not want to be anywhere else.
Seishirou was once again on top of him. Hands assaulted him, hands everywhere. Warm and rough hands that asked no permission. Hands unhurriedly followed skin and lengths of skin: his lips, his cheek, his chest, arms, legs through his pants (the one breach he would not gap—no, not tonight). Subaru found himself surprised it was not enough, and it never would be, because Seishirou did not cross that one border Subaru had thought he would. That one defining moment "lovers" (any couple besides them, because Subaru would never be loved by Seishirou) Subaru wondered if he could even handle.
"Seishirou-san," Subaru mumbled. The words were now not so choppy and discarded. Subaru finally sounded as though he had risen above the water. His voice was smoother, honed and firm.
Seishirou surveyed him only for the briefest of seconds. He shook his head and pushed Subaru down into the sheets so the satin swallowed him in. Subaru stared up at him, bewildered. Seishirou hovered over him, breathing deeply and all too willing to break the envelope he had sealed but restraining it. He had no emotions; he could control himself.
"You'll never stand up to me with how weak you are, Subaru-kun," Seishirou sighed. He rubbed his cheek against Subaru's chest once more, close to his heart, just to hear his heart beat. Subaru shivered underneath him, skin rippling with need for that touch. "Tonight was a valiant effort, but you failed to hurt me." He straddled Subaru's hips, suggestively running his hands down his legs. But he did nothing further. "So, tell me—tell me you'll be mine until I kill you, won't you?"
Whether that meant his or Subaru's demise, there was ground for them to cover. For it to end so soon would be shame. A bloody shame, especially when Seishirou could see the promise of such beauty in growing in Subaru in every second he strained against fate's wishes.
Seishirou was in rush to die. He valued his life above the people in Tokyo. He still could take risks, and just live.
Subaru blinked, confused. Perhaps his mind was too muddled with the jumbled mess of anger and confusion. He might be insane. All he wanted was to say one word. One word that would reaffirm whatever Seishirou had asked, because he could never deny him. Not at all.
"What choice do I have?" Honestly, there was nothing more to say. Subaru could not help how his heart seemed to beat in tandem with Seishirou's as he touched him; Subaru could not help that he hated Seishirou as much as Seishirou wanted to finish his job. For now, that was all that needed to be said between them.
Subaru loved Seishirou, after all. Both his vet and this screwed-up sociopath.
Subaru leaned his head on the pillow. Restlessness and hopelessness drained his nerves again, and the prickles of tears threatened to overflow and soil Seishirou's bedsheets with their sin. He was exhausted, all too conscious of how fighting Seishirou had depleted what meager energy he had stored. Right now, he was even defiling Hokuto's memory wanting Seishirou.
Fair enough. A trade-off like that would be fair enough, and Seishirou found this satisfactory. A wolfish smile that, even in the dark, revealed that he was pleased.
Pinning Subaru down to the covers, Seishirou sealed that with another kiss. Seishirou's tongue pushed apart his lips and invaded every inch from tongue to teeth. Subaru choked, digging his nails into the bedsheet with all his might. Subaru's mouth burned with the taste of lies and smoke and horror. Subaru found, even to his astonishment, that it was the sweetest taste in the world.
Subaru hated himself beyond words.
For today... again, yes, Seishirou would have to let Subaru go. But not completely. No, not completely. He loathed to think he would ever bother trudging back to the Sumeragi and offering him to them as a peace offering. Keeping him here would be the ultimate option for them both.
Seishirou felt a pang of irritation. This had been a slower process than he had hoped for, but Subaru truly had dug himself deep in the own recesses of his mind, enclosed himself in the prisons of fake smiles and love and cute puppies.
Subaru enjoyed his betrayal, in any case. At least, tonight had proved that much.
Seishirou scoffed. To be that weak in the first place was troublesome, but that was Subaru. He still had no idea how he would kill someone who meant so little to himself. To kill him, after so much, would spoil everything, including his pride.
Seishirou sighed and laid on his back. The pillow was like a cloud, and the world seemed a lot less dangerous against taking Subaru away from him. Subaru would come around to his mindset eventually and break out of his minor insanity.
One day...
Seishirou drew Subaru against his side, his arms tight. That seemed fine like a fine place—Subaru did nothing to counteract, and he simply curled into the heat of the blanket and placed his cheek against Subaru's chest. Seishirou could feel the tension in his companion's shoulders nonetheless. No... no, he was not comfortable. Could not be comfortable as according to what he should feel, obviously. But he was content. Just as he should not be. He was . . . Subaru was hopeless like this and it was ridiculous. Contracting Seishirou's viewpoint every once and while might have its perks.
Seishirou closed his eyes and joined Subaru in the realm of dreams. He inhaled his scent and rubbed against his hair, delighting in how soft and silky every strand was. Boring or not, Subaru had proved some fight still threatened to break from his soul. Maybe he did have something to look forward to when he opened his eyes. If Subaru would finally fight him back, that was.
For now, Subaru was adorable, and Seishirou tracing Subaru's hand was the absolutely perfect way to fall asleep.
Maybe tomorrow would be the day Subaru would die. Maybe the next. Seishirou was not going to count; the days did not matter as long as the job was done. But for now, rest called.
Until then, Subaru's heart was his, and perhaps Seishirou's could still be his.