© 2002 Copyright Original Storyline by Gold

Disclaimer: Characters and pasts borrowed from CLAMP temporarily.

'Allo. Dedicated to angst-lovers. Also for Seishirou-lovers. Seishirou offers a starkly different point of view, and Fuuma is hesitant and despondent.

After The Fact (Version 3.0)
Part 9: Under Endless Skies

The skies were a clear, dark endless expanse by the time Fuuma finally left off circling Ueno Park like some lost soul. He made his way into the main streets, rubbing shoulders with the thickening crowds of the night. These were the citizens of Tokyo, descendants of those who had lived and died here a thousand years ago. Fuuma wondered just how many of them had been reincarnated, as he had. That young woman with the bright face, who had been gazing into a window display of the finest gems the shop had to offer; or the boys in the junior high uniform from another school, laughing as they exited a nearby café; or perhaps that man over there, looking up at the evening news?

"Hmmm."

Fuuma blinked at the man who had suddenly materialised before him. "Eh—Sakura…Sakurazaka-san."

"You're doing better," said Seishirou dryly. "At least you've stopped calling me by the other name."

Fuuma had nothing to say to that. It was difficult not to want to call this man Sakurazukamori. Whatever he might be now, Sakurazaka Seishirou in this life, apart from looking exactly like his old self, still bore very strongly many of the qualities he had in his past life. He had strength of character, and strength of will; he had a swift, sure intelligence and a quickness of observation; his wit was dry and cryptic, yet undeniably humorous; and there was something very strong, sure and certain about him. And above all, one did not mess with him. Yet he was also safe, Fuuma realised; in this lifetime, this Seishirou was human as the other one had not been. This one's smile was real; this one's eyes were kind and straight from the heart; this one, Fuuma suspected, was very much like the veterinarian the Sumeragi Subaru of yesteryear had fallen in love with.

"Have you eaten?" inquired Seishirou courteously.

"Ah, no. Have you?"

"No." Seishirou paused and turned his face slightly, facing the direction of the New Tokyo Tower.

"Not there!" Fuuma's voice was sharp.

Seishirou whirled back to face him, the wind picking up suddenly, and leaves swirled around them. He said nothing, but his eyes were gentle and understanding.

They stood there silently, as if they had carved out a space in time all to themselves, despite the people milling around them. Man and boy they were, one with shoulders still weighed down with a burden despite seven years of wrestling with it, and the other newly awoken to carrying it.

"How…do you get used to it?" Fuuma asked, his voice very low. He had wanted to ask Seishirou that question for a long time, but he had always refrained, for fear of giving Seishirou additional pain. –Their past quiet chats, accompanied by ice-cream of varying flavours and toppings, had revealed to Fuuma a man who had undergone exactly the same cycle of self-loathing, agony, comprehension and then weary resignation. Fuuma had not felt comfortable with asking such a question, but looking at Seishirou, who was the only other person who had been through it and who was still living in a hell like his—it was a question that had to be answered.

Seishirou shrugged. "For want of a better turn of phrase—you don't get used to it. You live with it," he answered quietly. He glanced shortly at the boy. "It's early days yet, Monou-kun," he said, not unkindly.

Fuuma looked up at the taller, older man. "You did this alone," he said slowly. "For seven years, Sakurazaka-san, you did this alone."

Seishirou was silent for a while, his eyes lowered. He breathed a soft sigh before he spoke. "It was very difficult." His face and voice were bleak with memory. "I thought I was going crazy at first. One does not easily dream of killing one's best friends…or of a life as someone gifted with supernatural powers used for killing." He drew a long breath. "But there was no other choice. This is my second lifetime; I think perhaps there is a reason for me to be given these memories—maybe a second chance. Subaru-kun and Hokuto-chan were not given such memories when they turned sixteen. I watched carefully…but nothing. I'm grateful for that," he added.

Fuuma brushed his hair out of his eyes, whence the wind had blown it. He swallowed. "The worst thing…" he whispered, and the wind carried his words across to the patiently listening Seishirou, "…the worst thing…is that I can't even tell them about it…can't ask them for forgiveness…because I can't…tell them…"

"Do you regret what you did the last time, then?"

Fuuma hesitated. He thought for a moment. Did he? If—

"Because I don't. And for me, that is the worst thing."

Astounded, Fuuma stared. Seishirou—didn't regret?

"Believe me, I'm really quite bitter about it." Seishirou's smile was, indeed, bitterly ironic. "I wouldn't do anything differently. Nothing—not a single thing. I'd make a bet with Subaru-kun again, and mark him, just so I could find him again. I'd go everywhere with them for one year, just to be with them. I'd protect him again, watch him as he did his jobs, guard his back again—because it means I would be there, and I would know that nobody could hurt him—save myself. I'd lose that eye for him again—lose my life, if it mattered. I'd kill Hokuto again to force him back into the living world. Because I didn't kill her simply to satisfy my own pride, Kamui. There were only two people who could bring him out; myself—and that was impossible—and Hokuto-chan—but she had too little power. And I'd invoke her spell all over again, no matter how much it's going to cost, because I owed Hokuto-chan that much, to let her brother live. It was the only part of her wish that I fulfilled." He gave a short, painful laugh, and the sound of it was a discordant chord that struck the air harshly and then faded away in a broken murmur. "At least now I know why I've always wanted to protect him—and Hokuto-chan. Do you know the worst part? I understand why I had to do what I did. –I'd do it all over again."

It was as if someone had turned the world inside out and then spun it a hundred and fifty-seven degrees eastward, before tilting it westwards. In a flash, Fuuma suddenly understood.

"We were given a set of circumstances," went on Seishirou, still in that hard, yet brittle voice. "We were there; we couldn't walk away any more than a president of a country faced with a nuclear disaster on his or her hands. We sacrificed everything so that we could leave something behind. In this lifetime, we've been given forgiveness. Those people we hurt don't remember how much we hurt them. That's enough. I think we chose to remember our pasts, Monou-kun, so in this lifetime we have a second chance to make things right. " The line of his jaw tightened. "I'm not going after Subaru-kun this lifetime. There's too much of my past inside me for that and I'm not half good enough for him…so all I'm going to do, is just to do anything I can for them."

There was nothing Fuuma could say in reply to that.

Seishirou turned to him with a softer look. "Monou-kun. We are two separate people; my decision is my own—"

"I know." Fuuma looked away. "I don't want to have to do again what I did back then…but I don't know, I don't know if I can understand what I did…not yet. I don't know, either, about Kamui. I—he's my best friend—" he stopped for a moment. "I can't tell…if I'm really in love with him…or if it's just part of my memories…how did you know…?"

Seishirou smiled sadly. "I didn't. It isn't so much about me, as it is about Subaru-kun. I know he's beginning to care for me again, and Hokuto-chan has been as subtle as a chainsaw over it. How much I care doesn't matter."

"I see," said Fuuma softly. He did see.

They remained there for a while in silence, whilst the stars overhead tried to compete with the glittering lights of Tokyo. In the distance, Fuuma caught sight of New Tokyo Tower once again, glittering blue, gold and red in the distance.

"Dinner?" Seishirou's voice cut into Fuuma's reverie.

Fuuma shook himself free of his thoughts. "No. No, not tonight," he said a little apologetically. For tonight, he wanted to be alone.

Seishirou nodded. He had merely been polite. "See you around, then."

And that night, two of Tokyo's loneliest souls wandered the bustling city streets, alone and separately, with only their memories and nightmares for company.