Disclaimer: Fairly standard. I'm borrowing Gravitation characters from Maki Murakami for fanfics and fun. Gravitation is shonen-ai and for that reason, (and a bit of swearing) it gets a PG-13 rating. I appreciate all criticism, so please read, enjoy, and review. To those who do review: THANK YOU!!

Bad Luck for Bad Luck?

Part 9: Reflections

In the days following the funeral, Eiri's predictions about keeping busy came true. He wrote thank you notes until his hands burned like they did after marathon book signings. Shuichi was there for him, to massage feeling back into his fingers. Eiri put Mika in charge of thank you gifts. Tatsuha arranged the purification ceremony, the hon-ihai 1, the placement of the tombstone, and a schedule for graveyard visitations. Eiri and his siblings met with the lawyers several times. It seemed as if they needed dozens of copies of death certification. There were all kinds of legal documents that had to be dealt with: property title transfers, car registration, billing name changes, banking records, life insurance, their father's will and the intended inheritance, and the corresponding inheritance tax.

Only three and a half months ago, their father had changed his will, acknowledging Tatsuha as heir to the temple. It had been done exactly after Eiri's last visit home. For Eiri, it was a bittersweet win to an old argument. Before meeting the lawyers, he had wondered if he was going to have to extra trouble by denying his father's will and ceding the temple to Tatsuha or by accepting it and later transferring the temple to his brother. He certainly didn't want it.

Eiri took care of all the funeral expenses. He had the money and he could afford it. It was easier, too. . . Most of Mika's money would be tied up with connections to Tohma and divorce settlement issues. Tatsuha was technically still a minor; his personal savings were not enough to cover the costs and it would take a little time to complete all of the financial inheritance transfers. As far as Eiri was concerned, Mika and Tatsuha could split the condolence money. They had the greater need.

While they were at lawyer meetings, or otherwise occupied, Shuichi and Ryuichi kept each other occupied. Eiri suspected they had written two CDs worth of music, at least. They could usually be found in back, by the pond, singing and tumbling around on the grass like kids— if the weather was fair. He and Tatsuha liked to watch them from the back porch, while they smoked cigarettes together. Their lovers' cheerfulness, while not precisely contagious, was . . . good to see. Eiri wondered ironically if his parents had watched his siblings and him play like that. The two men romping in the yard were not children, though. Technically, they were adults in adult relationships and both were capable of being fathers! Scary thought, Eiri chided himself. Very scary thought.

The house felt very strange. Mika, Tatsuha, and Eiri were the adults now. There was no more parental supervision to tell them to 'stop', 'behave', 'be quiet', or 'stop running'. At the same time, with all three of them (temporarily) living here, it was easy to remember childhood. It was . . . just strange.

Eiri spent time in the temple in meditation and prayer. He thought about his father, making his spiritual journey. He thought about his father in life. He hadn't gotten along with the old man in years. When Eiri turned his back on his early training . . . no, it had begun earlier than that. The old patriarch had never liked his blond hair and odd golden eyes from the start, but Eiri was the eldest boy. The old man probably felt it necessary to mold Eiri into the proper son.

When Eiri had returned from New York, that time, the temple was no longer what he wanted. He hadn't been interested in pleasing his father anymore. That was when the real problems between father and son had become apparent. Eiri had struck out and done exactly what he wanted to do. Only a few months ago had Eiri really felt like the old man had come to terms with the difference between what Eiri was willing to give and what the patriarch had wanted out of his eldest son.

Eiri thought about Mika and Tohma, too. Mika had a great deal of inner strength. Her wounds would heal and scar. Eiri thought this week must be extra painful for her. Besides the obvious troubles of death and divorce, everyday she watched her brothers and their lovers. They were warmed and supported. It must feel like salt in fresh wounds to climb into bed at night and hear soft, loving sounds down the hall from where she slept alone. Mika had no one's arms for company and she wasn't accepting comfort from any of the four men in the house.

When Tatsuha and he had been unsuccessful, Ryu and Shu had tried to help console her. Shu, in particular, had tried to get her to talk. The two of them wound up screaming hurtful things at each other. Eiri wondered if Mika knew how much that had helped her. Eiri was pretty sure that Shu had no clue how helpful he'd been. Since the funeral, Mika had refused to cry. Instead, she bottled up her complex grieving. If screaming at Shu was her only outlet . . . so be it. Eiri would continue to offer the kid up for his sister to yell at. It seemed to be the only way to make Mika feel better and release her emotions. Besides, it was easy for Eiri to cheer Shuichi up and the singer was quick to forgive.

Thinking about Tohma, on the other hand . . . Eiri wondered why people believed that man's friendly smile and soft words. He was, and always had been, a shark. Maybe Seguchi was happy with Sakano? Eiri hoped so, because Tohma had burned his bridges behind him. Eiri didn't like how Mika had had to get burned in the process. He reluctantly decided that he could forgive Tohma for finally following his own desires, but would not forgive Tohma for his sister's pain.

Eiri thought about his own life and Shuichi's place in it. He could never keep his mind from Shu for very long. The singer was indelibly tied into everything Eiri did now. In the events following his father's death, Eiri had been feeling a kind of compulsion to formalize the bond between Shu and himself. It could not be done between two men under Japanese law. He smirked, thinking Shu might— hell, definitely would— be willing to cross-dress again for the sake of a wedding, but that wasn't what Eiri really wanted. He loved Shuichi as a male. On the couple of occasions the idiot had cross-dressed, it was just another form of hiding, or masking the truth; it was a lie. Eiri didn't want lies between them. He never did. This was no exception. He would try to find an honest way.

On the seventh day after the old man's death, the family held the purification ceremony. It was sort of an oxymoron, since Buddhists did not believe that death was 'impure'— death was simply one stage of the life process. Nevertheless, the custom was probably one that was older than Buddhism in Japan and had been co-opted as a part of funerary traditions. As with the kamidana-fuji, 2 they still practiced the purification ceremony.

It was a simple ceremony, primarily for the family and those who dwelled in the house of the deceased person. It consisted of washing hands, using the kiyome-shio, or purification salt, and reading sutras. Tatsuha lead the ceremony. To Eiri, it signaled freedom to return to his own life in Tokyo.

He would have to return to Kyoto again on the forty-ninth day after death for the kiake, to signal the end of the mourning period. On that day, their father's spiritual journey into eternity would be complete. Then, the final memorial service would take place. The mourning banners on the house and all the other trappings of bereavement could also be taken down that day. Eiri was glad he was not going to be living under those banners for the next 49 days. It would be bad enough wearing unrelieved black for that time period.

Until then, Eiri had a life in Tokyo waiting to be picked up. He hadn't touched his laptop all week. He hadn't even been thinking about the book that had begun so easily. He knew Shuichi was eager to go home, too. The kid wanted to get inside a recording studio again. Shu was inordinately proud of his latest lyrical drivel. Even Eiri had to admit that Sakuma had been a good influence on Shu's song writing. Eiri still told his lover it was crap, but he didn't think Shu believed him, since the kid had leaped on him with hugs and kisses when he'd spoken. I can only blame myself, Eiri thought, for smiling when I gave him my opinion. Tone of voice gave me away, too. Eiri wondered what might have happened if he had actually said Shu's lyrics were good? He was usually Shu's worst critic. He sighed.

Eiri reflected on the tarot card reading. He had to admit that that woman had been turned out right about a few things. . . It couldn't be denied that Shuichi and he were lovers and they did indeed have a strong relationship. Eiri remembered the Death card with its gruesome skeletal warrior and black flag. He could picture the disaster-struck black-brick Tower card, too. Misfortune had certainly come to pass, and several changes. Shuichi was still a constant, though; he continued to plow through life foolishly, without thinking too hard about consequences and he kept reaching for the world. He would keep traveling, working hard, and inspiring others. Eiri was still the Emperor; the decision maker. He smiled wryly. It didn't really matter. The past was the past; the future ahead of them. I don't believe in fate, he reminded himself.

1 Hon-ihai this is the permanent plaque which replaces the wooden ihai.

2 The practice of covering the family shrine with white paper to protect it from the impurity of death.

Author's Notes: Yep, this is a wrap. It's a good place to stop. I'm going to go onto the next story-line. . . I hope you all enjoyed it.