Chapter 21: The Sweetest Dream Would Never Do

The Hotsuin estate is huge, divided into four wings and surrounded by gardens and courtyards, all encircled by a high wall. I don't know if the entire mansion heard us last night, but Yamato leading me around on a tour of the house with an arm around my waist is enough to have everyone we meet awkwardly averting their eyes to give us privacy.

Yamato's room is in the west wing, and he shows me the rest of it — his parents' room now a workspace with a computer and television screens displaying live feeds from JP's, the courtyard and gym he used for physical activities, a tearoom, a room for music practice, as well as the large library and study he was homeschooled in with a beautiful wooden chess set on a small table for two.

"You told me once that you completed a college-level education at a very young age." I run my fingers over the finely carved chess pieces. "What was that like exactly?"

"I'd study one subject or several at a time from the basics to advanced material, and a visiting expert would stay in one of the guest rooms for several months, answering my questions and recommending further reading."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Learning? Of course."

"What else did you do?"

"I received instruction in hand-to-hand combat, fencing, shooting and archery. Between subjects, I studied battlefield tactics and war strategies."

I'm torn between admiration and horror — his childhood sounds like a super soldier programme from an anime.

"And who did you play chess with?" I ask, wondering if he'll tell me about Alcor now.

"A very good chess player visited occasionally," he answers, truthful yet oblique, and I don't press.

The east wing is for guests, where the elders stayed until they left this morning. As the name implies, the elders are the most senior surviving members of the clan's main and branch houses, along with representatives from affiliate clans like the Kuzunoha. They often meet to confer on inter-clan affairs and supernatural phenomena affecting Japan.

The south wing, closest to the entrance, is where the household staff live and work. There are living rooms, a large kitchen and pantry, storerooms for equipment, a sizable laundry area and a first aid room. Mister Hakuo introduces his wife, Suzuya, his son, Nagahide, and his four daughters, Harue, Natsumi, Akiha and Fuyuri. They also have a chef, Yuuta, and a gardener, Kenji. I imagine Yamato must somehow earn a very high income to maintain this house and pay everyone's salaries, but the Hotsuin clan must have amassed plenty of wealth over the years, and JP's pays very well for the risks we take.

The north wing is the largest, reserved for official clan functions and rituals, and Yamato hesitates before entering — outsiders aren't allowed in except to participate in rituals. There are meeting halls, warded rooms for summoning, a library, warded storage rooms for ritual objects and mystical artifacts, a memorial hall filled with memorial plaques of his ancestors, as well as steps leading to an observatory on elevated ground with telescopes and a glass roof for observing astronomical phenomena.

In one of the courtyards, there's a familiar-looking magic circle "Just like the one below the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building…"

"I thought as much," Yamato says with a smirk. "It seems there are few secrets left between us."

I smile wryly. "Facing the end of the world, we had little time for secrets. But I'm thankful." I turn to face him fully, loop my arms around his neck. "It gave me the chance to know you, to love you. And I appreciate your willingness to share this with me now."

With a laugh, he tilts his head to drop a kiss on my inner arm. "You are hardly an outsider, Hibiki. Or are we pretending you don't already know my best kept secrets?"

I can't help a teasing chuckle as I step closer. "I don't know, Yamato. Do I? Tell me all of them, and I'll point out the ones I knew beforehand."

"Hmph." He leans in for the kiss, smirking. "You'll have to do much better than that."

"Oh, I know."

Our lips meet, and here, before the threshold of his family's memorial hall, it feels like a sacrament. "I love you," I whisper in a shared breath, and he tells me, "I know, Hibiki, I know," with a certainty I've waited too long to hear.

Eventually, he leads me back to the central waiting area where there are tables, chairs and ornamental display pieces for receiving and entertaining visitors.

"I kept my word and gave you the tour, but now we must be going. We've wasted too much time here."

"Of course. You don't have such a thing as free time."

Violet eyes cut to me at my teasing tone, and I kiss his cheek placatingly.

"Thank you for staying with me. I'll do my best to help with all the work that's piled up in your absence."

Yamato sighs as we walk back to his room. "I've increased security, but you need to be more careful, Hibiki. Don't waste your potential."

"I will. I'm sorry for worrying you."

He looks at me, opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, conflicted — he's never worried for an individual before, never feared losing anyone or anything, because he's always been alone. He only had his duty, and he's always been good at that. Now that he truly cares for me as more than just a means to an end, he's probably wrestling with the irrational desire to never let me out of his sight.

In the end, he only says, "Your uniform was ruined. I had a new one brought for you."

"Thank you," I tell him with a hug. "I'll be careful, I promise. They were aiming for you, you know? It's you I'm worried for."

"Don't," he says as he returns the embrace. "Of course I'll protect us both."

Makoto is waiting on the platform when we arrive in Tokyo, and Yamato's frown says, "You too?"

She bows in greeting, then hands him a dossier. "Welcome back, Chief; Kuze." She nods at me before turning back to Yamato as we start walking together. "The documents you requested, sir. I was about to take them to your office when I heard you'd arrived."

He flips through. "Good work, Sako."

"Thank you, sir."

Makoto proceeds to brief me on what she's taken care of and what remains outstanding till we arrive at the junction.

Yamato turns to me. "Well then, I'll see you tonight?"

I don't know that we have any plans tonight, but he looks so reluctant to part with me despite his usual cordial tone.

I offer him my most reassuring smile. "Of course."

He still hesitates a beat before leaving, and I watch him go for a few seconds before heading the other way with Makoto.

"Thank you for covering for me while I was away, Miss Makoto. I'll head down to Okinawa for the operation right away." And bring some local specialities back for Yamato.

"I—I'm glad I could be of assistance. Perhaps you should assign someone else to Okinawa," she suggests. "You've only just recovered, after all."

"Ha… You know our Chief. He doesn't do anything by halves. He micro-managed everything from my medical treatments to my diet. I think I'm healthier now than before I was shot."

It's almost the truth, and it gets a laugh out of her.

"That's good to hear." Suddenly, she stops in the empty corridor, and I turn to ask what's the matter, only to find her looking like there's something she's hesitating to say. She opens her mouth, closes it, then finally, "Kuze, permission to discuss something personal?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Of course. Go on."

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then bows deeply. "I'd like to express my deep gratitude for what you did in Kyoto. JP's would be lost without Chief Hotsuin, and I with it. JP's gave me purpose — without it, I might still be lying depressed in a hospital somewhere…" She straightens, laughing it off. "Is that surprising?"

I laugh along. "It's more surprising to hear that you used to be a synchronised swimmer. You never seemed the type."

Her eyes widen. "Did I mention that before?"

Oh, oops. "Didn't you?" I feign confusion. "I can't imagine where else I would have heard…"

"Hmm… Nevertheless, it is the truth. I didn't know what to do with myself after the accident, and I might have remained at a loss if JP's hadn't scouted me. They even helped pay for my medical bills. I am greatly indebted to them. That's why I am also relieved to hear you are well. JP's is a much better organization today than it was when I joined, and I believe your changes have a lot to do with that. I… used to question some of our decisions and policies. They…" She trails off, searching for the right words.

"They weren't always in line with your personal beliefs? I felt the same way. But Chief Hotsuin was surprisingly willing to listen," I reply in an attempt at professionalism. "He has given me so many opportunities. I'm happy to be of use to him and the organization he takes such pride in."

Makoto smiles with sincere feeling. "I'm glad I met you, Kuze, but more than that, I'm glad that Chief Hotsuin met you." She chuckles, a little awkward. "Recently, when I reported the breakdown at Takamatsu, he said to review the procedures with the team and implement more stringent controls, then look into reassigning their roles because they could be more effective at a different task. He even ordered me to send them for community service on their next two off days as punishment because 'if they can't be competent here, they can at least contribute to society,' he said. In my years at JP's, I've never heard anything like that from the Chief. I believe it's thanks to you. Your influence has changed him and JP's for the better. So thank you."

She holds out her hand, and I shake it.

"No problem at all." To hear that Yamato is giving people second chances and sending help to civilians brings an adoring smile to my face. "I'm happy to hear you think he's changed for the better. It means a lot, coming from you."

She averts her eyes, a bit embarrassed. "The Chief doesn't interact with anyone outside of work, so he's always alone. He's a great leader and a superior anyone would look up to, but sometimes I think… people aren't meant to live like that. Someone so young shouldn't have to make such hard decisions… heh, what am I saying? You're only a year older than he is."

"No, I agree," and perhaps I can secure her support now. "Miss Makoto—"

"I've been meaning to tell you… You needn't be so formal."

I grin. "You're one to talk. I've told you before you can just call me Hibiki."

"Right. I—in any case—"

"Makoto, above everything, Yamato is my friend. I only want him to be happy," I tell her earnestly. "But sometimes, what he seeks only brings himself and others more suffering. Like the Special Forces project. He is not one to shy away from necessary sacrifices, and yet I cannot imagine that a needless war would have brought him any happiness."

"Yes." Her smile is one of relief. "Your handling of it was rather masterful, I must say."

Chuckling, I reply, "Had it been more so, he would have been less displeased."

"He seems to have forgiven you."

I suppose that shows how well she really knows Yamato. He's not the type to dwell on an issue, but he rarely forgives and never forgets.

Still, I only say, "It worked out for the best, that's all. I hope you will continue to help me as you did with that, even when it seems to run counter to his wishes."

She nods. "I will do what I believe is best for this organization, of course."

"Indeed. I'm sure we will agree on that." I resume walking. "In any case, we should get back to work. Despite all your help, for which I am deeply grateful, I still have a backlog to clear. Yamato doesn't like it when we're behind."

She laughs as we reach the command centre. "True enough. Well, I'll return to my duties. Do take care on the mission."

"Thanks. I will."

But first, I need to look up Okinawan specialities.

It's night when I knock on Yamato's office door in Osaka with a bag full of snacks and souvenirs from Okinawa.

"Come in," he calls, tone neutral, then, "You're late," a bit tersely when he sees it's me.

A typhoon damaged the sealing equipment on Hel, so everything in the surrounding area had begun to die. I led an offensive team to subdue her with back up from another group of Special Forces recruits while a technical team replaced the equipment. The highlight of the mission was being led to where Hel was holing up by a group of very cute, but very disgruntled Kijimuna — her presence was killing their banyan trees.

"Well, you didn't specify a time," I tell him matter-of-factly, "but I'm sorry. I stopped to buy a few things once Hel was securely resealed."

He raises an eyebrow. "What did you need?"

Grinning, I set my bag down on his desk. "Local specialities. I wanted to try them with you."

Yamato smiles with a hint of fond exasperation. "We could just go together next time."

I'm happy to hear that, and "we still have plenty to try. Not many things can be brought back."

There's sata andagi, natsukashi no kantengashi and Okinawa Beans, as well as passion fruit awamori, mango juice and shiikwaasaa juice. I also bought us a pair of matching yachimun pen holders and a pair of highball glasses made from hand-blown Ryukyu glass.

The pen holders have been glazed with Shiisaa motifs, and I hold them up. "They look a lot like the real thing, don't they?"

"Yes… I wonder if people actually saw them or spirits simply take the form eminent within our collective consciousness."

"Perhaps it's a bit of both." I swap out his plain black metal pen holder. "A few see one form and propagate it through their stories and art. More people see the art and read the stories, the form becomes widely accepted, and the spirits stick with it even if they had other forms before." I hold up the pair of glasses — there are violet swirls throughout the glass. "These reminded me of your eyes."

"Hmph." He puts his work away. "I much prefer you looked at the real thing."

"Well, if I did that as often as I wished, we'd never get anything else done." I giggle, filling the glasses with ice from the nearby dispenser. "Plus, I washed them, so we could use them now." I pour in the cocktail I learned and stir it with the chopsticks I snagged from the kitchen. "Here, to us."

Yamato takes the offered glass, clinks it on mine and tentatively takes a sip. "It's delicious."

"That's why I wanted you to try it. It's a quarter passion fruit awamori, half mango juice and a quarter shiikwaasaa juice — sweet, tangy and fragrant all at once. Shiikwaasaa is this amazingly fragrant citrus fruit I've never seen before." I open the snacks. "These are fried balls of dough made from purple sweet potato flour and brown sugar, this bean snack is supposed to taste like goya champuru, and this is an agar snack made from local fruits."

He tries a piece of each — he seems to enjoy the pastry and the agar snack, but he grimaces after some Okinawa Beans and washes them down with a gulp of the cocktail. I'm not surprised — I agree that a crispy bean snack tasting like a pork and bitter gourd sauté is pretty disconcerting.

We finish the drinks, eat all the sata andagi, and decide to save the rest of the agar snacks for another day. The beans I think I'll offer to Fumi. If she likes Misovitan D, perhaps she'll enjoy Okinawa Beans too.

Suddenly, Yamato stands and sways. "Hibiki…?" He presses the heel of his palm to his brow. "What did you… What did you give me?"

I blink. "G— Are you…?" He's gone all red, and I hurry to his side. "Awamori is Okinawan liquor. I thought you knew it was alcoholic."

He shakes his head, sways worse, and I catch him, hold him so he can lean on me. "I don't drink. It impairs your health and judgment."

"I'm sorry. I should have asked." If anyone else had offered him the drink, he probably would have had it poison-tested first. "Your trust means a lot to me."

Nuzzling my neck, he murmurs, "You smell amazing."

Relieved, I chuckle. "You've never said that before. Maybe you should drink more."

"Hmph, you're the worst."

Laughing, I help him through the door to his personal quarters and up the stairs to his bed. Once I've made sure he's comfortable, I move away, but he catches my hand.

"Don't leave me."

The raw plea in violet eyes leaves me blinking the sting out of mine.

"Of course not." I comb my fingers gently through his hair. "I'm just getting you a glass of water."

"Mm…" He lets go. "Alcohol is dehydrating."

"Yeah."

I pour some into a glass from a pitcher on the nearby table before coming to sit beside him on the bed. In the meantime, he's removed his coat and tie. I prop him up and help him drink it; he drains the glass and lies back down.

"Do you want more?"

"No."

"Well, let me refill this anyway in case you wake up thirsty later." I cover it on the nightstand.

"I thought you weren't leaving."

"I'm not. You know I'm more afraid you'll send me away."

"Over a drink? What nonsense, Hibiki."

Well, no, but that's not a conversation for now. I move his clothes to a nearby rack and undress as well before helping him with his pants and socks. When we're both in nothing but our shirts and underwear, I slide under the covers. He snuggles close, and I wrap my arms around him.

"You should just move in," he mumbles, tightening his hold on me.

I scoff. "You're right. It is impairing your judgment."

"I'll kill anyone who has anything to say about it."

"Please don't."

"Still so soft. You should only be like that with me."

"Hah." I shake my head with a fond smile. "I am only like this with you, Yamato. You're the one that's not making any sense now."

"Mm…"

His breathing evens out as he drifts off, and I kiss his brow. Move in, huh? Maybe someday, after we've changed the world.

"Hotsuin Yamato was different once."

My head snaps up in shock — Alcor is sitting weightlessly beside Yamato on the bed. Horrified, I glance down.

"Oh, you need not fear, Shining One. At present, only you can perceive me."

True enough, Yamato doesn't react, and I relax, rubbing soothing circles into his scalp. Yamato smiles in his sleep, and I can't help but mirror that contented expression.

"How long have you known him?" I mouth the words.

"I first met Hotsuin Yamato when he was… by your reckoning, seven years of age. He was a child of unrivalled possibility, the first Shining One I found in your time, and perhaps it was his family's teachings, perhaps it was innate to his personality, but he possessed a strong desire to protect humanity."

"He still does," I correct silently. "He believes that his ideals will preserve humanity, not realizing that what they preserve is merely the form, but not the substance of being human. It is our choices that define who we are — if they are made for us, we would cease to be ourselves."

Alcor smiles wistfully. "My warnings made him anxious. His environment, the environment you now live in, Shining One, made him bitter. It was not long before he came to see human liberty as a threat to your continued survival as a species, believing your nature had become corrupt and your potential either wasted or turned to destructive ends."

"He's not wrong. It's just his method of eradicating the corruption defeats its purpose."

"Unfortunately, his ideals are in line with the will of Polaris." The Septentrione rubs his chin, pensive. "Yet, as you have before, I believe you can sway him now."

"As you could have, once. Had you reasoned with him instead of leaving, he would at least have listened. You were his only friend in all the world." I kiss the crown of Yamato's head. "Alcor, Yamato didn't join me because he had faith in my ideals or abilities. He had every intention of evaluating the result. No, he gave my way a chance because he wanted to believe in me. And I believe he once felt the same way about you."

He covers my hand on Yamato's back, leaning closer with a look of deep sorrow. "I gave the Hotsuin clan knowledge, and it upset their fate. I gave Hotsuin Yamato information, and it warped his ambition. I gave him company, and it twisted his heart. Shining One, I gave you power, and it trapped you in this endless struggle."

I lace our fingers, meeting his gaze earnestly. "From which only you can free us." Maybe we're running out of time, maybe we're not, maybe Izanami meant something else, but I'm starting to think… is this how we want to live? In constant fear of judgement and destruction?

Grey eyes widen. "Free you…? From… Polaris? That is… unthought of. And how would you control the Akashic Record?"

"I wouldn't," I say meaningfully, and he gasps.

"I… need to think on this, Shining One. Truly, your freedom is… enlightening. Still, I… cannot turn against Polaris. And even were it possible… every gift I have given mankind has also been a curse. Knowing this, you still trust me with the creation and fate of your new world?"

I squeeze his hand. "In your imperfection, you are like us. What Administrator would understand us better? Alcor, it is enough for me that you are our friend, that your fondest desire is to help us."

Alcor smiles, eyes bright, floating to my side. "Your words give rise to such beautiful emotions in my heart, Shining One." He touches his lips to my cheek — no doubt he has been watching us. "Very well. If that is your wish, I will aid you in any way that I can. Till that time, allow me to strengthen my resolve."

He disappears just in time — Yamato opens his eyes.

"Hibiki, have you not slept?"

I offer him a goofy smile. "Well, if I close my eyes to sleep, I'd miss you." I peck him on the nose.

He scoffs with deep exasperation. "You are completely absurd." Resigned, he sighs. "Sleep, Hibiki. We have much to do." Then he smirks with promise. "I'll wake you up properly."

"Oh, now I really won't be able to sleep."

Still, we settle in, and again, Yamato drifts off before me. In truth, I suspect the earlier conversation may have cut our deadline, and yet…

I'm tired.

I'm tired of having a deadline.

I'm tired of looking over my shoulder and seeing the signs of impending invasion.

It hasn't even been a year. It's not fair — the human zeitgeist is not so quickly or easily changed.

I tighten my arms around Yamato.

I swear it — if we must fight Polaris again, this time, I'm fighting for keeps.