Omina Sol Temperat - Chapter 2


Usually, when he woke in the early evening, there would be an encouraging note under a cold bowl of stew or rice, urging him to eat so he could continue with his research. If not for the meal tray left at his bedside, Subaru wouldn't have known he shared the living space with another soul. Subaru smiled a little at that gesture, wondering at the fact that he still needed a caretaker at his age, though he didn't object.

On his nocturnal schedule, Subaru didn't have much time in contact with his housemate, but he actually preferred it that way. Fuuma was free to do as he wished, and if there was any major problem, he figured that Fuuma would alert him so he could intervene before anything disastrous happened.



Tonight, on the fourth evening Fuuma would be a guest, Subaru could only poke at the curry that was left for him. Something felt different, and the unfamiliarity of the atmosphere made him somewhat anxious.

Where was Fuuma? Subaru padded from room to room, but it seemed Fuuma was out. The apartment was dark and empty. Subaru had never asked about his schedule, and he didn't expect that the kid would stay locked indoors all hours of the day. Fuuma slept at night, which was when Subaru was most active. After ten in the evening, Subaru was either out of the apartment or locked into his room with books until the sun rose.

Restless, he decided that he wouldn't be able to decipher much tonight in his state. He thought about going for a walk, though he realized that he was using quite a bit of ofuda lately, and it would be best to create some more before his next engagement.


Subaru dressed in his white and blue shikifuku, splashed cold tap water on his face, and set about measuring and cutting the white typing paper to the correct proportions, using the fine blade of the Onmyouji dagger. He knew that technically he should have used traditional paper and appropriate water, but he found that anything worked equally well, and special adherence tradition didn't seem to bother him much anymore.

He ran the pliant wolf-hair tip through a saucer of ink, soaking each bristle, running off the excess on the edge. He held the bamboo brush carefully, and breathing deeply, set about instilling power into each stroke he wrote. Making ofuda was calming, in a way. He would enjoy this. The action let him clear his mind and clarify the connection with his onmyoujitsu. When he'd made two dozen, he set the slips out to dry.

He then changed to another set of shikifuku and splashed his face with scalding water. Subaru held his palm above the saucer, and there was a flash of power, a stinging light, and the ink was ready. Generally, Sakurazukamori ofuda weren't any more difficult, but they required more concentration and were more exhausting to make. Black paper, for one, was harder to obtain, and he couldn't afford to waste any at the rate he was using it.

When his work was complete, he glanced at the wall clock and flinched. He'd been productive, but he hadn't been watching the time, and it was nearly midnight.

Fuuma still wasn't back yet.

'Apparently, Fuuma has a social life,' Subaru thought to himself less bitterly than absently. Subaru thought his life was more than enough to handle on its own; he didn't need friends to make demands on his scarce time.

But lately, Subaru had missed being around people… The events of 1999 had softened him until the hollow feeling flowed like molasses through his veins once more. Perhaps even the proximity of another person, even if that person happened to be the old Dragon of Earth's Kamui, would help purge a small amount of the loneliness he wouldn't let himself admit to.

'Stranger things have happened,' Subaru reflected. 'Being in the company of an enemy…' But he shook his head to clear it from the path his thoughts wanted to travel. He wanted to believe that the year he spent with Seishirou, the man who had tried to murder him, had been the happiest of his life. But Seishirou had shown him the naiveté of trusting someone, and at the moment, he didn't feel like drawing parallels between Seishirou and Fuuma.

Seishirou was Seishirou, and Fuuma was just some child he was taking in as a favor. They weren't actually that similar in character or circumstance. Not really.

Subaru gathered the fresh ofuda into their respective piles. He rinsed out the opaque white ink into the sink, hoping it wasn't toxic to groundwater or anything… one never knew.

He checked the clock one again; he still had nearly an hour before he wanted to take care of tonight's business, and he was already dressed. Subaru wondered if he should eat, just to pass the time. He could make ramen, so he set about filling a pot with water.

A phone rang, and Subaru wondered when he'd gotten a phone. He located the source of the noise and picked up the cell – it had to be Fuuma's.

Subaru stared at it, weighing the options. Answering someone else's phone would be rude, but the call was probably important, because no one makes social calls in the middle of the night.

Subaru answered, issuing a tentative greeting. "Moshi moshi?"

The voice on the other end was gasping, hysterical, and rough with exertion. "Sumeragi-san! Th-thank God you're awake."

"…Fuuma?"

Subaru bit his lip. "Fuuma… where are you? What's going on?"

"At-at a pay phone." The answer was shaky. "I'm in Shinjuku... Do you think… Would…"

"What do you need?"

There was an extended pause. "Come pick me up? I don't think I can make it back on my own." The voice sounded nearly lifeless over the line.

"It's good you left your phone here."

"Yeah. Forgot it."

"You blacked out again." Subaru wasn't accusing.

Fuuma said nothing, then whispered, "I'm really sorry for asking this of you… Can you find me?"

"Yes. I'll be there in a minute." He didn't like subways, and his current state of dress eliminated any form of public transportation. Rooftops would be faster, anyway.

"Aah… thank you, Sumeragi-san."


Within fifteen minutes, Subaru had located Fuuma huddled in an alleyway between a manga store and a sports outlet. There seemed to be no physical damage to his body; he hadn't been attacked. It's possible he was simply scared when he 'woke up' in a different location.

"Fuuma."

The form didn't move.

"Fuuma, let's get you back. It's all right now."

When Fuuma didn't respond a second time, Subaru knelt and placed a hand on Fuuma's shoulder. "Tell me what's wrong?"

The timbre of the response told of all the emotion he kept himself from showing. "The people… all these people…" He gasped for a breath. "I was on the roof. The roof would have…"

Subaru waited for him to continue.

"Sumeragi-san… all these people would have died." He nodded to the busy street. "They would have all been dead right now. And it would have been my fault."

"Why?"

"…I was about to destroy the building. Again." Fuuma's shoulders started to shake. "Take me back… please…"

Suabru frowned slightly. The last time Shinjuku had been in danger was three years ago, when a girl named Satsuki wanted to destroy it, along with the protective kekkai. The last time Fuuma had been to this building, it had been to fill the "wish" of a girl named Yuzuriha Nekoi by taking her life.

Subaru wondered how much had really changed in three years.

He helped the boy get to his feet. Fuuma finally looked up, but didn't say anything at the black ceremonial kimono of the Sakurazukamori. He must have at least assumed this turn of events.

"Prepare yourself. Since you're taller than I am, you will need to grasp my hand. I cannot lift you." Fuuma nodded slowly, doing what he was asked. He obviously remembered the Seals' method of transportation.


Subaru dropped him off at the apartment before immediately going out again. "Will you be all right, for a few hours? I have business."

"Aah." The 'business' was fairly obvious.

"Get some sleep, Fuuma. If you're up in the morning, I'd like to talk to you about some things."

Fuuma nodded again.

"De wa," he turned, dark shikifuku fluttering.


Fuuma didn't sleep. He lay in the guest room for a long while, trying to piece the things he remembered into some kind logical form.

"I didn't want them to die," he moaned into the sheets. "I didn't want them to die…"

But then why had he stood on the roof of the tallest building, palm pressed to the cement and stinging with power?

He didn't remember. It didn't make any sense.

And the longer he waited the more panicked his thoughts became. Hopefully Subaru would return quickly. Hopefully Subaru knew something he did not. Something horrible was wrong with him. He wanted to figure it out before something worse happened. Unless it already had. He didn't know, he didn't remember.

He needed Subaru to come back quickly.