Disclaimer: Blue Exorcist is not mine.

The autumn came with a swirl of colours, followed by a downpour of gray. Pale strands of mist clung to the cobblestone and clutched at morning windowpanes. Hazy sunlight kept chasing away these at sunrise.

Rock-a-bye little one, thought Juzo, feeling the warm weight and shifting it gingerly in his lap. Rock-a-bye. Your mother is gone. She left with a promise, a fading flower in a swamp of your parents' mistakes. Now promises are all you have left, promises and your father's arms.

(How do they fall apart, shed like lies with a whisper of scales. He could hear them, the snakes slithering over his father's dead body.)

The house was silent, save for the rustle of leaves and sighs of his sleeping son's breath. Hojo household was finishing its daily rites. The keepers of the flame, they were now called, risen from temple's ashes and Myoda's disgrace. The sect was no more. All what was left of it was a Shima, married into Uwabami's family. Spared like a keepsake of old friendship.

(How does the dust gather around the rows of relics, half-forgotten in past sentiments. The bell tolls and the door is closed, abandoned halls turning to graves.)

Karura's flames glowed in the distance, dimmed by sandalwood smoke swirling to faraway chants. It will never feel the same again, not with Todo's vicious presence, barely constrained by empty sockets of eyes.

Somewhere in the distance, the doors slid open.

oOo

BSC 24-678-4B.

He paused to look at the screen, hand reaching blindly for pen.

The paper was thick and yellowish in places, years of forgetfulness staining the pages. With some luck, he won't need these address ever again.

With some luck, he will be able to forget it.

oOo

A gray cat trotted into Juzo's view, not even sparing a glance in his direction. It came to a stop by the window, it's short tail twinging. The household seemed to be overrun by them lately.

Konekomaru quickly became an excellent archivist for Vatican and refused to see Juzo ever since. Juzo watched the tabby hesitate before the glass barrier to finally sit down before it.

The quiet steps drew from behind. Juzo looked down at the sleeping child in his arms. The evening rites were over and so was his watch.

"He's asleep," he muttered. The knowledge of infants' noise tolerance levels was still fresh for him, born from hours of vigil. "Been for the las-" Black washed over him mid-sentence and he only got a flash of bare feet before someone flopped down beside him. Juzo looked up at newcomer and met his dead brother's eyes.

"Yo," smiled Kinzo.

oOo

She lit the candles, watching the dusk recoil from beacons of light. The smoke curled upwards, drifting lazily towards the ceiling despite the howl of wind outside. Dust and grime covered the floor. Her footmarks marked uneven trail of raindrops over discarded scrolls, crumbling with decay of neglect.

Myths and lies. Lullabies for restful minds.

oOo

"What are you doing here?" A voice, calm was deceptive – Juzo's own, he realized. Blonde hair, scarred hands… This form… Such audacity…

The autumn came with a blanket of mists and ghosts of forsaken roaming the outside.

"Just dropping in to see my nephew. Hold on-" Kinzo held out hand before the next question came."-there are rules. One: you can't ask questions. Two: I can't answer them."

For one to enter a human settlement… Juzo let the feeling bubble and churn inside, quiet and inconsistent.

"Well," he leaned forward, eyes crinkling in so familiar smirk. "it doesn't mean I can't come up with some questions of my own, right?"

The number of times such lax attitude got him into troubles with elders was astounding. Juzo kept silent. Across from him, seated cross-legged, Kinzo cast curious gaze at the bundle in his brother's lap. Instinctively, Juzo felt his arms tighten around the child.

"So," Kinzo looked around the gloomy room, seemingly unfazed by distrustful silence "this is the proud heir to Uwabami's fortune. Luckily he got his looks from the father's side. Not that I belittle your life choices, mind you," he added quickly. " She's a real fighter, isn't she?" he muttered, and there might be even a wistful note to his voice. Mist was already setting in behind the window, casting refracted light as eerie glow over the room. Nothing felt true and such it was, except for a warm weight in Juzo's arms. "Chasing Todo is one hell of a job, but she wouldn't let the chance slip. Is her revenge really worth it? What business can Sabutora have with descendants of the fallen clan?"

Guilt, thinks Juzo. And the retaliation that follows.

oOo

She needed none of it.

oOo

"…and you? What're you doing these days?"

Strike first and leave no one behind. It took a night and a day for the Temple fires to die out, seventeen hours of righteous accusations thrown from under Vatican's banners. Ten hours for Hojo to find the bodies and two for the Vatican to sweep away the evidence.

Renzou did a good job. Had he arrived later, a whole of Kinzo's face would have been scarred beyond recognition.

Juzo blinked. He has been spacing out.

His brother's wraith visits him and Juzo is not even paying attention.

You need something to take your mind off of this. Juzo's sister dark rimmed eyes came to his mind. Her visits were a muffled moments of concern and questions and learning.

Lessons for the dead ones and questions to the living.

Kinzo was watching him, searching eyes over hands folded in a pyramid propping his chin. Almost sad.

So unlike him.

"How empathic do you think younger Okumura can be?"

This was not a question Juzo wanted to ponder. Not with the scars before him.

Executions were not meant to be forgotten.

The question hung unanswered. Behind Kinzo, an early mist started to set onto the windows. Somewhere in the distance outside, the sound of bells carried over the ashen forest. A bell and a chant to disperse presence of the forgotten. The rites were over.

Kinzo leant in, dropping his hands from his chin.

"It sucks to be the oldest one, doesn't it?" he sighed, standing up. "Gotta go."

He looked down at Juzo with strange, serious expression. In the dusk of the passing day, he seemed older.

Not the way Juzo wanted to remember him.

Outside the doors, the wet footprints started to fade.

A/N: This was supposed to be posted for Halloween, which only shows what happens when I'm left with a posting schedule on my own ;)

Anyway, the last chapter of Blue Exorcist pretty much undermined my foundations of this story, therefore it will be labelled canon divergence from now on.