Omina Sol Temperat - Chapter 4
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Sumeragi-sama, leader of the Sumeragi clan of Onmyouji, I write to you now of what has been made taboo. A grave tragedy has befallen the clan. Never before in the 1600 years of the line of Onmyoujitsu has a member committed crimes against the balance of nature and sanctity of human life.
I am deeply scarred by the events of this past year, but I shall attempt to retell them in order as an accurate history of the Eleventh Year of the Edo Bakufu.
Here follows an account of the Sumeragi Hishihiro family.
My elder brother Akimoto and I are twin sons of Sumeragi Hishihiro, the previous leader of the Onmyouji. We had equal potential and equal training. Though we were similar in ability and training, my elder brother had greater insight into the use and creation of magical foci. My elder brother received the rites of clan leadership at the age of twelve, when our father unexpectedly passed away, and there was much expectation for his long and successful leadership.
He hypothesized that the simple relocation of antagonistic spirits relocates the damage from one area to another and does no good for the whole of the world because it preserves the balance of energies. My elder brother wished to benefit the world by eliminating unhealthy spirits.
Naturally, this practice is against the fundamental laws which balance the universe.
My elder brother Akimoto, from a young age, believed in temporary sacrifice for long term gain. He studied and trained for long years to the brink of physical starvation to develop a method which would dispose of unhealthy magical energy. He worked for eight years to create a method to expunge negative forces.
The day of our twentieth birthday, in the eleventh year of the Edo Bakufu, my elder brother Akimoto came to me with news of his horrific success.
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Subaru woke up the following evening with a tremendous headache. For a moment, he couldn't identify the source of the pain, but then he remembered the job of the previous night with sickening clarity.
Sometimes the government assigns horrible targets. Last night's job had him murder an innocent young woman who had accidentally witnessed a confidential transaction. She spoke very poor Japanese. Subaru swore he saw a flash of recognition in her eyes. Perhaps she saw Hokuto's face in his own. Perhaps the two of them had been friends, once.
Subaru made tea to cleanse the taste of stale vomit from his mouth. It wasn't fair. But dwelling on the subjects of life and death would only make him feel worse. He wasn't sure how long he'd sat staring blankly and thumbing the rim of his tea mug when he heard the apartment door open and close. Fuuma deposited his backpack at the entryway and entered the room smiling.
"Yo, Subaru!" The boy smelled of fresh air and sunlight. "I didn't think you'd be up yet. I guess I don't get to ask this often, but what are you hungry for tonight?"
Subaru forced a smile. "Nothing. I have tea. Thank you."
Fuuma just kept talking. "We could make anything you feel like eating. I picked up lots of things yesterday. Take your pick. I'm kind of hungry for beef and bell pepper, actually. Do you mind?" He was rummaging in the fridge already.
Subaru leaned back in his chair to peer at Fuuma, who was half obscured by the fridge door. "Make what you want. It doesn't matter to me."
"Are you saying you're not eating?" he asked in a dangerous tone.
"I don't feel like food."
Fuuma rolled his eyes. "Like you expect me to believe that? You're eating, even if I have to tie you to that chair and spoon-feed it to you. Alright?" He mumbled something under his breath as he turned back to scan the contents of the fridge.
"What'd you say, just now?"
Fuuma pretended not to hear until Subaru prompted him again. And even then, his response was a weak "…nothing."
"Fuuma."
"You're going to laugh. But I said that you might pass for sexy if you filled out your frame a little." He laughed, refusing to be embarrassed. "Admit it, Subaru. You're barely more than a stick figure." He winked and smiled.
Since the smile looked genuinely concerned, Subaru couldn't resist any further. He was in no mood to a fight with his housemate over something so trivial.
"I'm glad you see it my way." Fuuma nodded, smiling brightly. "Want to help me cook?"
"Sure. I'll dial if you talk..."
Fuuma laughed aloud. "Deal."
Dinner of "Beef and Bell Pepper Special #28" passed uneventfully, and Subaru found that his headache diminished slightly when his blood sugar rose. Subaru reluctantly made a mental note to stock some granola bars in the pantry. Fuuma had been talkative, and in a way, his company was relaxing. Fuuma made them both large mugs of instant cappuccino, with real milk and real chocolate, and the pair of them sat comfortably discussing Fuuma's classes at Clamp Campus.
Fuuma talked excitedly. "I did take a week of self defense with Suoh-sensei, but that didn't really interest me."
"Only a week?"
"Would you believe it? Suoh-sensei wouldn't fight me!"
Subaru nearly choked on a sip of his coffee. He looked at Fuuma's build appraisingly, the corners of his mouth turned upward. "Do you even need a class in self defense?"
Fuuma blinked several times. "Of course I need a class in self defense," he deadpanned, "how else would I fend off the swarms of college women after my body?" He flexed demonstratively.
Subaru paused for a second. He then smiled back, playing into the gag. He said flatly, "You're right – you're incredibly attractive. How could anyone resist you?"
Fuuma grinned. "That's right, I'm irresistible." He laughed loudly. "Irresistible, talented, brilliant… what am I doing without a special someone in my life?" He chuckled loudly.
Subaru abruptly stopped laughing.
"In case you forgot, Fuuma, you killed him two years ago."
Subaru then calmly rinsed his plate in the kitchen. Odd how he didn't need to see his hands to know what they were doing. They were shaking. And something just below his throat hurt and twisted. His eyes burned, too.
"Subaru – wait."
Something caught him by the forearms when he turned blindly from the sink. Subaru struggled; he didn't feel like talking. The grip then forced him against the countertop, presumably to keep him from running, and a thumb found his chin, lifting it, but he refused to meet Fuuma's eyes.
He took a deep breath. "Fuuma, let me go."
"Look at me, Subaru. Just look at me. Okay? …It'll be alright."
"NO!" He tried to wrestle out of the grip on his shoulder, but failed. It just tightened to the point of pain. There would be a nice bruise the next day. "It's NOT just 'alright'!" Fuuma killed Kamui. Fuuma took his eye. Fuuma took out entire sections of Tokyo. Fuuma hurt everyone he'd ever been close to. This was the same Fuuma who stabbed a young girl, his only sister, through the heart. And laughed.
"Subaru! Damn it, it's not like I'm being an asshole, here. I'm trying to fucking take care of you! What the hell is wrong with you, Subaru?"
Subaru's voice was streaked with pain as he struggled. "You're asking what's wrong with me? You're the demented one! You're the one who came for my help, aren't you?" I don't need your help! You killed Kamui, and now you're making sick jokes about it. He was taking blind kicks at Fuuma's legs. "You're a cold-blooded murderer… you barely feel sorry for it!"
One of Fuuma's eyebrows raised. "You're worse. You get paid for it."
"SHUT UP!" Fuuma dodged a weak swing of his. "You have no idea what it's like, do you!? Living every day disgusted with yourself. You killed innocent people! Lots of them! Scared ones! You have no RIGHT to tell me I need you! Leave me the HELL alone, Seishirou-san!!"
Subaru coughed, heaved, and doubled over to vomit on the floor.
"Just… leave me alone… Seishirou-san…"
Fuuma picked him up by the arms and looked straight into Subaru's blank, mismatched stare.
"In case you forgot, Subaru, you killed him two years ago." Subaru was shaking, his face was blanched. "Now, let's get you back to bed, okay? I'll get you some water."
Subaru was talking to no one. "You're changing the subject again. You always change the subject…"
Fuuma looked at him squarely. He wiped a little from the corner of Subaru's small mouth. "Subaru…you have issues. You know that? Seishirou's dead."
"But you… looked… like him…just now. And it's happening all over again," Subaru sobbed. "Get away from me… just go away… Fuuma…"
"That's where you're wrong. I'm different now. And you asked me to take your eye, remember? Fuck it, Subaru. I'm just trying to help. Why can't you accept that?"
Subaru was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"Will you let me clean you up at least, Subaru?"
Subaru nodded weakly again. He couldn't remember why he'd taken Fuuma in to begin with, and he couldn't remember why Fuuma was still living with him. The latter question he asked aloud.
"Why are you still here?"
"…because you'd die of starvation and alienation if I weren't?"
Subaru supposed that answer was good enough. He really didn't feel like thinking very hard about anything. Nothing made sense enough to deserve attention. What he really wanted was a good, hard drink. He realized this as Fuuma was pulling the covers up to his chin. Maybe, if Fuuma really was trying to help him…
"Wallet… end table… take 5000 yen and get some… alcohol… please?"
Fuuma actually laughed. "On an empty stomach, so early after you've woken up, and risk seeing you get even more depressed? Nope. Sorry, I refuse."
"I just want to pass out… maybe kill some brain cells… the ones that make me remember…" He curled into the fetal position. "It just hurts… too much."
Fuuma looked at the floor. "And I make it worse," he said, under his breath. "But all I can do is try to make things better for you." He brushed bangs from Subaru's forehead. "Sleep now. You'll feel better later."
When he was sure Subaru was asleep again, Fuuma left the man's bedside and went into his own room. A full length mirror greeted him.
Fuuma pulled off his shoe and shattered the glass.