A/N: hello,

So this story is a spin off of my earlier fanfic: 'Underneath Our Rotten Shells' since it takes and completely shifts O.U.R.S. ending, opening a leeway for this multi chapter… I'd recommend reading that fic first. I'd want to think, that 'Ephemeral' could be read as a standalone too. Anyway, I really loved Shiki characters, and wanted to play around with a few on this larger scale… ^^

Warnings: medical experimentation in later chapters, mild BL, Toshin pairing. (if you prefer to see it that way, I tried to leave that matter vague)

-X-X-X-

At that time an old image sank into the crevices of his brain, a memory, of when both of them had been playing with kites near the temple grounds. That harmless nail was all it took to break Toshio's will.

"T-toshio?"

"I can't do it!" He grit his teeth at his own weakness. "I can't, not anymore!"

Seishin sat in place, staring blankly at the edge of the pure night's sky. It seemed as if he had fallen into a trance. The former monk couldn't grasp the notion, that he remained trapped inside this rotting cage of flesh and bones. After a silent moment Seishin's lips parted, releasing a hoarse tone from the pits.

"Leave..."

Abruptly the silver-haired male felt a grasp on both of his shoulders, his eyes traveled to meet the doctor's distressed eyes.

"It doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to die, none of us have to! Let's get out of here together." Seishin stared at Toshio. The former wordlessly parted his mouth, though the other interjected. "Seishin, please... Please, come back to me..."

"Toshio."

"Please..." He lowered his head, still clutching Seishin's shoulders. The crushing feeling came back again - Seishin wished to escape into his own mind, discard this scene. This reality was hopeless. He closed his eyes; however Toshio's whispery voice and the strengthening clutch remained. "I don't want to lose you again."

A silent minute crawled by after those words had dissipated and sank into the walls. Toshio wasn't intending to let go of his friend. He jabbed at Seishin's very soul, waiting for his friend to answer. He swore to wait like this for as long as it would take, although Seishin was testing his patience. No wonder, he was always better at feigning calmness. That was the exact emotion, that his expression portrayed too. Seishin had lowered his head, closed his eyes and kept his mouth tightly shut, whilst Toshio's teeth began to grit together under the facade.

"Alright..." An involuntary tone was let loose. "I'll go with you."

Toshio's eyes widened, they gazed at each other in silence, before Toshio clutched his friend's hand and jerked him up from the windowsill. Seishin wobbled.

"Are you..." Toshio halted, getting a hold of the other's upper arms.

"I'm fine."

The doctor gazed questioningly at Seishin, who leaned at him for support.

After a while they had made it to Toshio's car. The ride back had been quiet and this fabricated solitude wasn't something, Toshio was particularly fond of. It would've been better to drive alone. He felt a gnawing irk, which demanded answers from the monk. That would have to wait... He had to wait... Besides, Seishin did not seem in the mood to open up. He had set his eyes towards the shadowy aspens, in so the eerie ride continued.

After more than an hour the old silver car had made a pause in the entrance of a narrow, unlit street. Lines of crammed two-storied houses became apparent with a flare of the car's headlights. Toshio had spotted a single empty parking lot, which was on the right side of the road. Satisfied with his findings, he killed off the engine there and gave a small smile Seishin's way. The former monk lowered his head weakly as an affirmative motion, meanwhile his palms had been clutching the ebony rag, that had been covering his knees. His own last words in Nukimura's tower had recoiled into Seishin's perception. Did he make the right choice? What kind of whim prompted him to obey anyway? Did he actually want this?

"Seishin..." Toshio uttered, standing behind the parted passenger's door. The former monk reeled back at him fearfully. He was afraid, that the other had noticed his doubts. However Toshio's emotionless look did not falter, he extended his arm for the other man to take. "Come here, let's go."

Once again Seishin leaned on his friend for support. While Toshio's one arm had been wrapped around the silver-haired man's boney waist, his right one had delved into his jeans pocket, soon revealing the car keys. After that was settled, he threw Seishin's reluctant arm around his shoulders and continued the walk to the end of the street.

The apartment situated on the second floor was rather small, but cozy. The kitchenette had shared the space with the over crammed living room, which was the first room, leading after the miniature corridor. There the bookshelves had been mostly emptied and all their contents had littered the sofa or the coffee table, some of the newspapers or folders chose to frequent the wooden floorings instead, as if trying to spare themselves from the suffocation. As Seishin took in the overcrowded surroundings, he saw Toshio idly stroll into the middle of the room.

"Take a shower. I'll bring you a change of clothes."

Seishin nodded weakly, before complying. After that was done, he haltingly walked out with wet hair, that now gladly fell over his shoulders in knots. The monk himself was constantly pulling on the edge of Toshio's t-shirt - it looked baggy on his starved complexion. The dark jeans were loosely hanging too. When Toshio took a peek at him from the boiling pots, he grimaced, spotting his friend's uneasiness and the awkward squirming: tugging on his shirt, rubbing, scratching his elbows, partially hiding his arms behind the back, before revealing them again - Seishin seemed like a lost animal, which had been forcefully dragged out of his habitat. The numerous damages on his arms were exposed in proud display, perhaps that was, why he portrayed such anxiousness.

"Hold up..." He uttered, before marching away from the counters of the kitchenette. The man disappeared behind the ebony bedroom's door, it was as if the darkness inside there had swallowed him up with a tasty bite. Seishin could hear Toshio rummaging. The silver-haired male gulped, after he noticed ugly steam pouring out of one of the sooty pots. The red metal lid began to jitter, as if it had hidden a nasty daemon beneath loosening clutches.

"Toshio..."

"Hold up."

Seishin swallowed heavily again, yet he made no move to save the whimsical daemon from overflowing. The contents bubbled joyfully, then spilled with a loud hiss, more terrifying than a snake. Seishin bit on his lower lip and right at that time Toshio emerged. His eyes widened.

"Agh, crap. I left the pot unattended." A curse was let loose. He hastily saved whatever was left from meeting a demise on the unforgiving ivory surface. He turned the knob, closed the fire, whilst muttering curses behind his foul breath. Toshio's eyebrows frowned, building up more wrinkles, that unveiled like roots, meanwhile he stared at the burned disaster, that will be prematurely called dinner. Anger had accumulated inside of him, however there was little reason to burst out... Even so Seishin could've done something about this, instead of standing there like a damned statue. Toshio swiftly whirled around, parting his mouth, yet froze at the sight of Seishin, hunching his shoulder from an anticipated attack. He sighed, he couldn't yell at him - even if the blame solely fell on the silver-haired priest - he could not do that, certainly not today.

"Whatever..." Toshio sighed, throwing a light button-down Seishin's way. He flimsily caught it, before raising his eyes again. "You can wear that. But you'll need to let me treat those wounds. I think there's an infection."

"Is there?" Seishin cocked an eyebrow, raising one of his arms for inspection. Instantly he was greeted with dark blotches and a dozen of pooling bubbles, that surrounded the coagulated cuts.

"Hey, don't you dare scratch that! Have you lost your mind or something?!"

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize... I'm being rough with you tonight..." He rubbed the back of his head, releasing a heavy sigh. "You'd also need a haircut."

"I suppose."

"Let's eat first." Toshio swiftly closed the previous topic. He took two bowls, poured the Miso soup, which could hardly classify as something similar, since it lacked most of the vital ingredients - would be better to call it, miso paste with cooked vegetables, since there had been no signs of broth or tofu. They cleared the coffee table, leveled it with stacks of books and took two senile wooden chairs from a corner. Once everything was set, they sat down with their respectful meals in front of them.

"I'm sorry, this is probably not the best. Not saying I'm a better cook than this, but it's all we got for today." Toshio apologized, bringing a piece of carrot to his lips. "I don't like supermarkets, so I tend to run out of ingredients from time to time."

"Ah... It's alright." Seishin's eyes lazily regarded the food in front of him.

"When was the last time, you had an actual meal?"

"When was... Agh, when I was with Sunak... Uhm, I mean a few months ago. Maybe more."

"And what did you eat in Nukimura?"

"Berries, leaves, whatever I could find in the forest."

"Basically scraps."

"It wasn't that bad." Seishin interjected.

"You've seen yourself in the mirror, right? There's a big one in the bathroom, if you missed it." Toshio smirked, earning a grimace from his friend. There was a moment of quietude between them, in which clinging of chopsticks manifested in full glory. In bare minutes Toshio's bowl was emptied. The brown-haired man then regarded Seishin, seeing his bowl being nearly full. He conjured a weak smile.

"No appetite?"

The monk nodded. The ripples inside the soup emerged into Seishin's vision, eating away at his concentration. Suddenly he shot up, mentally kicking himself out of trance.

"What?"

"I said, that you have no appetite."

"No. It's not that."

"Then why aren't you eating?"

Seishin hid his gaze. A moment passed with both of them sitting immobile like this, no movement or sound penetrated the dreary, rotting atmosphere. Finally, Toshio stood up, taking his bowl and leaving Seishin to his own devices. He won't speak. Well, that was alright. Seishin hadn't been much of a talker anyway. The brown-haired man proceeded to wash his plate, as he usually did, going about his routine, as if there had been no significant change. His movements were automatic. Bread, butter and the remaining tip of a sausage, were gathered - an after dinner sandwich, not the healthiest solution, but it had stuck with him over these years regardless, along with smoking in the balcony just before bed. Throughout these monotonic actions Toshio's lower lip was tightly pinched. The knowledge, that Seishin had sat there a few steps away, ticked him off. It made him feel awkward in his own home. Perhaps he could kick Seishin out? No, no, that won't do... There was no way, Toshio could get back the mundane peace, because he ruined it, when he decided to return to Nukimura, to seemingly kill his childhood friend. He should've noticed, how absurd that resolve sounded.

Toshio bit harder into his lip, while slicing the sausage. The sharp tip of the blade resolutely clinked, meeting the wooden board beneath, it chopped a small piece of frozen meat in the process. Toshio's eyes widened suddenly. That was it! He chuckled.

"I think, I know, how to fix your appetite, Seishin."

"Wha-what?" He lifted his eyes at Toshio's back, perplexed. In that very instant the doctor cut into his finger. With his right hands' digits he squeezed the root of it, then gradually moved the compression to the top, to force more blood out. Seishin's nose wrinkled for an instant. He did not say anything, until Toshio turned around with a teaspoon filled with blood. There was an odd glimmer in his eyes, while a side of his lips moved upwards mockingly.

"Come on, say - ah."

Seishin shut his mouth with his palm.

"What's the matter? You are an okia-gari after all." He smirked, uttering the name as if it was venom. The former monk's eyes had lost their white membranes, converting into an abysmal black, so Seishin shut them tightly in order to hide those urges. Sweat had begun to trickle down his forehead, the muscles in his arms and legs constricted involuntarily, clenching themselves and searching for escape, where there was none. He lowered his head to lie on the table.

In the meantime Toshio watched the man's struggles in sick fascination. He managed to discard that emotion, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Seishin, just take it. I won't give you more, this one will be a treat. You said, you didn't drank blood for eighteen years or so." He came closer, shaking Seishin's shoulder slightly. "It probably isn't that healthy to refuse your own nourishment."

"Toshio... Don't do this..." He pled through a covered mouth, feeling saliva pooling out of it. Alas the brown-haired man didn't seem to listen, instead he trailed a hand to the front of the Seishin's neck, attempting to rise his head. "Stop... Please..."

"It's for your own good..." Toshio muttered sweetly. Quickly he abandoned the former plan, lifting Seishin up by a tuft of hair. The silver-haired male winced at the sudden pull, meeting the edge of the spoon in front of him. His eyes widened, he threw his hands, shoving Toshio away.

"Stop it!"

The utensil clinked, falling to the floor, thus splattering the drops of blood onto the edge of a green faded carpet. Seishin's bloodshot eyes ogled the drops. They gradually sank into the fabric until there was nothing more than a crimson smear. Now those uneven blotches could mock him, imitating enraged eyes or even worse - a memory. Even if the liquid morphed with the carpet, the faint smell of blood lingered in Seishin's nostrils. The silver-haired man took a few needy breaths, before he clutched a palm against his mouth, convulsing.

"Hey, Seishin!" Toshio wanted to console him, but the other male abruptly whirled away and hobbled to the bathroom, in order to expel contents from his stomach.

X X X

Morning came quicker than both of them expected.

Toshio slowly parted his eyes. They were met with the same blindfolded room, only a few outlines could be visible between the shadows: a japanese style table and a few drawers. He lay still for a while, blinking heavily at the plain grey ceiling, as if attempting to force something out. Regrettably, sleep wasn't coming back for a visit. In the end, he rolled over on his stomach, checking for the clock, that had been set on a drawer right after his bed. 5:43 AM... Not exactly the time to get up. Toshio did so anyway. He didn't trust his phone to wake him up, since he had recalled instances, that could mirror this one and in those previous occasions Toshio would fall back asleep, only to wake up late for work. In the mornings a deep slumber would crash on him like a pile carelessly thrown rocks, the bleeping of alarms would be unheard and the man's body would direct the wake-up call instead.

He lazily shambled to the ebony door, that led to the living room. The man was rather cautious, since he did not wish to wake Seishin up so early in the morning. The latter did not have an abominable job like him anyway. Toshio narrowed his eyes, pushing the handle and hearing a creaking answer from the senile door. Alright, perhaps calling his work in the hospital - abominable had been an exaggeration. Things used to go rather smoothly there, of course, if he disregarded several nurses, who had been and still were the hospital's eyes and ears. Their annoying company only made the sudden increase of workload less bearable.

When Toshio was in the main room, he paused near the sofa, where Seishin's frame laid, slumbering soundly. The doctor overlooked the silver-haired male, spotting, the grey cover nearly fallen off of him and crumpled between the legs. Seishin's chest, which was masked by Toshio's shirt, rose and fell in the same rhythm. The former monk seemed truly peaceful, sleeping this way; his tranquile expression struck the man like a replica of their youth. If not for a definite fact, that he had been an okia-gari, Toshio could never distinguish the human and shiki Seishin... This was not the childhood friend, that he had adored though - he changed and that certain alteration of his could not be fixed or mended... Toshio covered Seishin's upper body with a blanket, tucking him in. It was only a stupid wish of his - he hoped for his friend's revival... Inner revival, since as far as he knew, there was no way to reverse a shiki into a human being. However the doctor had very little means to say, it couldn't be done. He never tried, did he now?

Toshio halted, leaning over the silver-haired male. Something inside of him clicked open, a new possibility, perhaps even a way out... He smiled to no one in particular. After a few seconds the brown-haired male left his friend's side and went to the bathroom.

Toshio saw Seishin's eyes flutter open, after he had finished his shower, upon noting that, he made a pause in the doorway.

"Did I wake you?"

"Not really..." Seishin admitted, sitting up sluggishly. Toshio stood inert, taking sight of the silver-haired male's exposed arms, the mere image unnerved him, yet his mind wasn't too proud of his upcoming words, fearful of Seishin's negative response. In time the former monk spotted his prolonged interrogation. He enquired a bit defensively. "What's the matter?"

"Your wounds. I forgot to clean them yesterday. If I could..."

"F-fine. Thank you..."

A relieved smile emerged on the doctor's face and he grabbed a first aid kit from a drawer in the bathroom. He sat down on the sofa near Seishin, who seemed rather reluctant to give up his arms, intertwining his fingers together like a pair of locks. His eyes kept jumping to corners and avoiding Toshio's, until Seishin took a deep breath through his nose and fixed an emotionless stare onto the exit of the apartment.

"It might hurt a bit. I'm warning you before-hand. " The brown-haired male said, holding up the pallid arm and jabbing at Seishin's oblivious expression. "But afterwards it'll be better, trust me. I've seen a fair share of infected cuts in the hospital. Good thing those weren't my patients."

"You..."

"Ah, I work in Osaka's national hospital. I'm a consultant doctor. So it's a bit of an easier job with more paperwork than actually ill patients, I had it easy for a while. Uhm... Unless I'd have to substitute someone in nightshifts."

"Well- Mhh..." Seishin his teeth shut, after the alcohol pad touched an opened wound. The arm's muscles tensed and Toshio strengthened his hold on the elbow, afraid of Seishin yanking away.

"Hold still."

The former monk nodded uncertainly, whilst Toshio ran the alcohol pad over the many injuries on his friend's arms, before he could wrap them up in bandages. His expression was set into an involuntary stone. Beneath this mask he was angry, that Seishin took such means to hurt himself, to kill himself. It made Toshio nauseous. Perhaps there was no actual need to for his fervid emotion? Seishin was a shiki, not an ordinary human anymore, he was supposed to be dead long ago by nature's standarts. Yet he stood there, alive and breathing. So was it actually right for him to wish for oxygen to fill his lungs? Was permanent death an answer to this blasphemous life? However until that night Seishin wasn't able to kill himself and Toshio surely did not aid him in that process. He couldn't, he was too weak... And if Toshio would have actually killed Seishin, that would probably set another row of nightmares and guilt to poison his rest. No, he was not the person for this... And while he couldn't do it, he sincerely wished for Seishin's company, despite all the glaring differences between them or the conflicts back in Sotoba.

"Say, Seishin, where did you live before Nukimura?" Toshio cleared his throat, facing his friend fully now. Seishin handed him a weak smile and a tilt of his head.

"A lot of places. It'd be hard to recount them all... Shimamoto, Kumatori, Iga, Nagata, Yoshino's town... Hmm, there might have been more than that."

"So you've been travelling for these eighteen years, eh?"

"Yes?" Seishin cocked an eyebrow at Toshio's slightly accusing tone.

"It's nothing. I suppose it's good, that Sotoba didn't scar you that much..."

"What are you talking about?"

"There... Done..." Toshio muttered absentmindedly, discarding the last pad of alcohol from the arm and ignoring the former monk's dumbfounded question. He swiftly gathered the trash from the sofa, then languidly stood up, leaving Seishin confused and smelling like ethanol. The silver-haired male vigorously eyed the other's movements, as if prompting the doctor to add anything to the previous statement. It had faded inside his psyche, before he could fully grasp its meaning. Meanwhile Toshio threw out the unused contents in a trash bin below the kitchen sink, then turned around, meeting Seishin's gaze. The silver-haired male flinched slightly from the sudden eye-contact.

"I need to get ready for work. Do you want breakfast?"

"No. No, thank you."

"Suit yourself." Toshio smiled warmly, then started rummaging in a cupboard near the fridge. "You should probably go to sleep then. It's way too early."

Seishin averted his eyes from the doctor. And as the latter was dragged back into his silent routine, Seishin dived under the covers, whirling his body away from the commotion. He wasn't intending to fall asleep, didn't thought, he could do so, honestly. In so he feigned it, clouding his mind with the events from these past few days. Seishin clutched his crossed elbows. He felt naked, bare... The man revealed way too much to Toshio that first time they met, alas he could not foresee this accursed future. The unknown frightened him, sending an eerie chill to slither inside his empty soul. Seishin curled his toes under the heavy cover.

Was this the right decision?