Review replies:
Kamui Gaia 07: Oh, you didn't offend me! I'm sorry if I came off as snappish. It's just that I KNEW there'd be questions as to how I justified my portrayal of the characters, and before I had another person flail 'OOC' at me I'd break out ye auld manga and its plethora of evidence as to the familiarity between Kamui and Subaru, even from the onset. I know that the anime was more than a little lacking in its full portrayal of the characterization accomplished by CLAMP in its drawn odyssey. I can't blame you for quizzically scratching your head if the anime is all you've had exposure to! I, personally, rather disliked the anime – of course, I've been painstakingly translating X from its Asuka releases for years and jumping like a hyperactive child on the domestic release ever since that was started. :) A ten-year incomplete story, brought to a screeching halt by Kadokawa. Makes me want to slaughter publishers.
LadyofTheBlackWings: Thank you for your support! First person POV's a challenge, but actually rather fun. I'm glad you like the story!
Feather-chan: Heh, it would've been rather hilarious if Kamui HAD blasted Seishiro halfway across Tokyo, wouldn't it:) However, in the interest of not incurring the wrath of the Sakurazukamori with his many many ofuda and nasty mariboshi with eagle-heads and OMG BLACK DARKNESS (thanks, CLAMP, for making things obvious at all times), it couldn't occur. Hope you like this chapter! French fries. Yum.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own X or Tokyo Babylon, nor do I hold rights to any of the characters held within those works. They all belong to the four goddesses of Clamp. I'm just borrowing them for my own sick pleasure.
WARNINGS: Alternate timeline, Kamui-chan thrown into Tokyo Babylon. Terrible representation of Japan (well, I've never been there. Excuse the hell out of me) with no proper placement of important areas/buildings/etc. Arcades, McDonald's, pinball machines, and original characters at Clamp Academy.
Read at your own risk.
-BEGIN FIC-
I've always hated the way morning comes to me.
Artists and authors always paint the most beautiful descriptions of night's death in their works. Lovely sunrises painted lavishly over lush flora and fauna coated plains with tall and stately mountains erupting in the background to provide a cut distinction of the horizon, long shadows spilling across their rocky expanses. The wonderfully described songs of merry birds gaily greeting the rising day star and saying their farewells to the heavy curtain that coats the earth in its dark black shades pierced only by the pale light of the laughing moon and her accompanying stars. The blessedly serene scenes of people awakening as sunlight gently caresses their cheeks and lips like the tender kisses of a lover and a morning breeze rustles through the leaves of the ever flourishing green trees outside of the warm bedroom window.
Ha. I'd love to have just one of those mornings.
Instead I get my typical wakeup call rather than the kisses of sunlight I wanted to greet me – my alarm clock's ear-splitting voice pounds through my head so forcibly my ears ring and my skull aches. As the screaming banshee erupted into life on my nightstand that morning, my eyes snapped open to stare at the dark ceiling above my bed and the soft illumination that graced it, seeping through my window's heavy curtains from the street lights outside. Nearly falling off my bed in my desperate attempt to get my alarm clock in hand and silence the beast once and for all, I snarled as I snatched it up. I punched the power button harder than was necessary before tossing the devilish device across the room.
Grumbling and rubbing my eyes, I fought my way free of my invitingly warm sheets and burst into the cold atmosphere of my bedroom.
I shivered as I padded in my thin black slippers to the window and tossed the curtain open. I needed some sun desperately to warm up. And I needed to ensure that I remembered to open the curtain so my plants would get some much-needed natural light.
The morning routine flowed quickly as I ensure it always does. My plants were watered immediately from the watering tin I keep in the corner and fill every night. Digging through my closet granted me a pair of black jeans and an emerald colored polo shirt with the Clamp Academy crest embroidered and the school name written in script encircling that crest upon the pocket all in golden thread. The dresser gave up a pair of underwear, black socks and clean black leather gloves to replace those I'd worn to bed. I never bothered grabbing a hat – Hokuto-chan would always run into my bedroom and select one, or bring one herself to go with whatever she decided I would be wearing if my own decision wasn't up to her standards.
She was going to be upset that I'd picked a polo shirt today as it left little room for accessorizing, but it was all I had that was clean and appropriate for school. I hadn't had the opportunity to do laundry in a few weeks, and even her supply of outfits for me was running low. And with Seishiro-san taking me out more and more often, I had burned through my clothing supply abnormally quickly.
Exiting my bedroom and making my way swiftly to my bathroom, my mind remained focused on my goal of quickly finishing my morning routines so I had time to double check what homework I'd completed and prepare myself for yet another day dwelling in the stifling environment that was my classroom. As I worked the shampoo I spread into my hair to a rich lather, I reminded myself that I also had to prepare for the evening that was to follow – taking Shiro-kun to Seishiro-san's clinic as I'd so abruptly promised to do last night would be quite a task, and I wasn't certain how the boy would react to my hasty decision. He seemed to have a near instinctual loathing of the veterinarian. Of course, supposing that what he 'knew' of the future was true, he had every reason not to hold any faith. I was unwilling to believe it. Seishiro-san deserved the benefit of the doubt at the very least – my full trust at the best.
I pondered that. I truly did trust him, despite his sometimes questionable behavior and Shiro-kun's abrupt revelations. My heart refused to acknowledge what my sister and I suspected.
After all, someone with so kind a heart couldn't possibly be so terrible.
As I finished my shower, the pain of the wounds I'd incurred on Wednesday caught up with me and nearly took me off my feet.
I'd quite forgotten about the Razor Winds and flying urns I encountered at Ise. With a sigh as the throbbing reminder of my job's dangers washed over me like the shower water I'd just enjoyed, I dug through the medicine cabinet and was soon rewarded with the discovery of a roll of ace bandages accompanied by a stack of gauze pads. Further rummaging revealed a tube of Neosporin and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
There wasn't any way I could possibly bind myself. Many of my wounds were on my arms, leaving but one hand to awkwardly handle the bandages I sought to wrap myself in, and a few of the gashes granted to me by that unhappy spirit were just between my shoulder blades in that ever so inconvenient part of the human body that a person can never reach without assistance.
I decided to ask Hokuto-chan to help me when she arrived that morning, and settled on throwing my terrycloth bathrobe around my shoulders. Binding it quickly at the waist, I left my clothes for the day neatly folded on the sink counter and made my way to the kitchen, intending to get my paper from my doorway and make myself a breakfast of toast and cereal before my sister arrived at my door so I could get out of the house and off to the bus in a reasonable amount of time. I was bound and determined to go to class that day, damn it all.
My shin solidly connected with the hard metal of the couch's hide-away bed.
I fell. I fell quite hard, as a matter of fact, sprawling across that bed with my leg wailing in pain and blaming me for my incredible stupidity. How could I have forgotten that I have a houseguest and that the couch's folding bed would be in use?
I whimpered as I tried to roll onto my back to get a hand onto my shin, intending to apply pressure to the point of contact upon my flesh in order to dull the throbbing ache that issued from it.
The bed wormed wildly under me with a muffled squawk of protest at my movement.
I froze, my cheeks instantly on fire. Shiro-kun wasn't exactly on the other side of the bed, was he? No wonder it had felt so lumpy.
Jumping off the bed, I bowed instantly. "Sumimasen!" I burst.
The sheets were flung back hastily. Shiro-kun looked stunned at first, then confused. A moment of depressed realization flooded his eyes before he looked at me again and allowed that sad emotion to be replaced instantly with giggling laughter that shined in the amethyst depths of his irises. "Eh, ohayo, Subaru."
I could feel myself blush even more fiercely. "O-ohayo," I responded. "I'm sorry about… uh…."
Shiro-kun smiled, a chuckle escaping his throat. "Subaru, it's alright. I'm just not used to being awakened like that."
Staring at my feet, I sighed as I continued to explain myself. "I'd forgotten that the folding bed would be out. Usually I run straight to the door to get my paper before making breakfast."
"Sorry for being in the way," he instantly replied, his voice soft and lackluster.
"No!" I immediately said, lifting my gaze and staring at him. "Don't say that. You're welcome here. I should be more careful and not wake you so early in your day. I'm sorry for my rude behavior."
The boy stared at me.
"What?" I said a few moments later, intent on breaking the discomforting silence between us.
"Nothing. I'm just not used to you being so apologetic. Or polite."
I arched a brow.
Getting the hint that I wanted further clarification almost instantly, he continued to explain, "To me, you're usually polite and fairly accommodating. Most everybody else gets your infamous silent treatment, or worse gets the bland stare of 'I really don't care,' or even more drastic, the 'you don't exist in my world' walk-by."
It was my turn to stare in confusion. That certainly didn't sound like me.
But he was speaking of a person he'd supposedly encountered nine years in the future. A lot can change in such a span of time, enough perhaps to craft an entirely different personality into a man. All the more reason to check his claim of where he should be in my time and my Tokyo, to validate or disprove his wild claim of futuristic heritage.
The door opened.
"Ohayo, Subaru!" the call instantly rang.
Turning I smiled and replied, "Ohayo, Hokuto-cha-"
I stared.
Hokuto-chan in a mini-dress is not a sight I'm entirely unused to seeing. Hokuto-chan in clothing created from odd materials is not an entire oddity in our combined households.
But she was dressed in tinfoil!
A tinfoil mini-dress!
A tinfoil mini-dress, who's hem was decorated with little blue bows with pink puffy balls decorating their centers and who's back was garnished with a gigantic replica of those bows. A tinfoil mini-dress without shoulders, clinging desperately to the delicate curves of her breasts and ending just under her groin, hugging her body as tightly as her own skin does. A tinfoil mini-dress that had its inadequate coverage of the shoulders compensated for by a large fluffy pink satin sash. A tinfoil mini-dress which was topped by a hat also crafted of tinfoil which appeared to be a funnel placed upside-down on her head in reminiscence of the Tin Man from the classical 'Wizard of Oz,' its hollow tip topped by yet another pink puffy ball.
And she had strapped silver sandals to match.
She grinned as she sat down and started the long process of getting her intricately tied shoes off her feet. "Neh, can you bring me my gray slippers, Subaru?"
It took only a second for my mouth to answer with the appropriate "Aa," while my brain still remained in stunned shock at the sight I'd seen.
As I returned with her slippers from the hall closet, I looked carefully at my sister. She hadn't brought any parcels with her. I heaved a sigh in relief as my brain realized that she wouldn't be decorating me in a similar fashion that day.
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I'd escaped with an ordinary black hat, this one decorated with an emerald green ribbon to match my polo shirt, placed upon my head. The outfit I'd selected was actually still on my body. The only changes that had been added were a multitude of chains Hokuto-chan insisted I wrap around my waist, my jeans being tucked into a pair of combat boots rather than my comfortable sneakers covering my feet, and a black denim jacket tossed around my shoulders.
I knew I'd be overheated before the day was through, but it wasn't that much of a bother. After all, I've been through far worse than wearing a jacket on a bright and sunny day. There was a slight breeze to stir up the air anyway, so it wouldn't bee too much of an inconvenience.
It was already noon and with the sun high in the sky I was beginning to feel the weight of his heavy waves drowning me in their light and warmth. Shrugging my backpack to rest its weight entirely on my left shoulder, I lifted a hand to wipe sweat from my brow even as I approached the lunch line those few companions from my classes that I could refer to as 'friends' were standing near. Arching a brow as I approached, I took account of their situation. They were standing by the line rather than in it. This, of course, meant that since our after lunch period was a self-study hall, that we were going to follow tradition and escape from campus for the time we had freedom bestowed upon us.
"Yo, Sumeragi-kun!" Kyoshi called out.
Smiling brightly to him, I returned his greeting. "Takama-kun," I called even as I stepped up to his side.
Takama Kyoshi sat in front of me in class. A Tokyo resident his entire life, he was one of those kids well versed in the ways and mysteries of the city he called home. He himself lived near the Ginza district of the vast city we both laid claim to. Slightly shorter than myself and a little more stocky, he carried a heavily mussed mop of black hair and dark, inquisitive eyes that missed nary a detail of every event that occurred around him. Looking completely cool and relaxed in his short-sleeved uniform shirt and slacks, he smirked. "Your sister got you again this morning, eh?" he called with a chuckle.
"What else is new?" laughed the boy standing beside him.
The one who'd spoken was a tall southern boy with bright brown eyes and a shock of black hair barely held in place against his skull by heavy hair gel named Shioji Yukio, standing with an easy and lazy posture, arms crossed over his t-shirt clad chest and jean-covered legs crossed at the ankles from his position between Kyoshi and Nioshima Sumiko, who was giggling behind her prettily painted fingers. She with her bright blue eyes telling of her foreign heritage and her long black hair granted by her Japanese mother was dressed in the proper school uniform of a puffy-sleeved shirt over a loose, long skirt with Mary Jane shoes. Both were in different classes than Kyoshi and I, Yukio being our senior by two years and Sumiko our junior by one.
"Really, Sumeragi-kun, you ought to grow a spine," Sumiko laughed, "otherwise your sister is going to walk all over you for the rest of your life."
Shaking my head as I walked over to them, I smiled faintly. "Hello to you as well, Shioji-san. Nioshima-chan."
Yukio smirked and clasped a hand on my shoulder. "Neh, Sumeragi-kun, what say you that we ditch this place?"
"Planning on going to the arcade?" I asked, arching a brow.
"Got that right!" the two boys chirped in unison.
"Going to accompany us?" Sumiko inquired, winking slyly.
I debated the wisdom in following them for a few moments. After all, lunchtime was always a great time to get homework done – those three were really the only people who would bother me during lunch, sitting with me and trying to engage me in conversation.
They, as before mentioned, were the only ones I could really consider friends. Everyone else I dealt with seemed to respect me, but befriend me? Hardly.
Kyoshi, Yukio and Sumiko treated me as an ordinary person. They didn't regard me as a title, an epitaph of Sumeragi. They didn't respect me because of my clan, my position within my clan, my job or my power. Indeed, Yukio was just as likely to grab me by the back of my shirt and haul me about like a sack of potatoes as bow to me, and Sumiko was one who took joy in punching my arms as often and as hard as she could whenever I started being too 'traditional and stuffy,' as she referred to my behavior at times. And Kyoshi was always one to lead me about with an arm slung around my neck much like an older sibling.
Their company, thus, was always welcome. I've always been quiet, and as a result of that personality trait have always been rather alone. Hokuto-chan, before, had always been with me to chase away any impending clouds of isolation that would dare to hover over me, but with me attending Clamp by myself her rescue was entirely unavailable now. But those three took her place in that small function, keeping me company in an otherwise lonely situation.
However, they did wonders for keeping me from the homework I could get done during my lunch period.
Without them there, I'd be able to get a considerable amount of work done, possibly saving a couple of hours of my weekend from the monsters my books and my papers had become.
But it would be one heck of a dull lunch and an even more boring study hall, dedicated to my books and nothing else.
Yukio decided upon the answer to my dilemma for me, grabbing me by the front of my shirt and hauling me along with him. "Come on, Sumeragi-kun. The longer you take debating, the more quality game time we're missing out on! Whatever you were planning to do during study hall can wait."
Kyoshi shook his head and grinned. "Your homework can wait till tonight, right? I know you've got a lot of it, but damn it all, everyone needs a break. Take a bit of fun in your life!"
"After all, it's Saturday. Relax for lunch, hit the books for the rest of the day, and cram your homework this weekend," Sumiko offered with a wink.
Well, I didn't have any choice in the matter as it was, staggering after the taller boy who dragged me without mercy off of the school grounds.
At least it was a short walk to the arcade.
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We'd very nearly missed class after study hall.
Out of breath and covered with perspiration, Kyoshi and I barely managed to slip into our chairs as our instructor walked into the room, his Anatomical Sciences books in his hands.
We'd been a bit distracted at the arcades. I was wondering if Sumiko and Yukio managed to reach their classes on time or if they were being sent to the director yet again for their tardiness.
Sumiko had managed to get her foothold on the Super Mario Brothers Three machine in the arcade. It was her favorite game, I think, namely because it was one of the few she could defeat with only a few tokens. She played it every time we came, and had become so proficient with the machine that we no longer really watched her play. She didn't care – she was decent and she knew it.
Yukio and Kyoshi were in the Battle Cars simulator, each seated in their seats with their fingers curled around their small steering wheels, each glaring at the other with manic grins on their faces as they prepared to race around the virtual track.
I'd watched them for a while until the flashing lights of my own favorite attraction blinking hypnotically from the arcade's back wall drew my own attention.
Bored with watching Yukio continually pound Kyoshi's small blue car into the barriers of the race track and zoom by only to lose the race to the computer simulated opponents that tore past them when they were intently trying to destroy one another, I wandered over to those flashing lights that demanded my money.
I've always loved pinball.
In fact, I was proficient enough with the machines that I was able to last nearly all of lunch and study hall on one token.
Kyoshi's breathless cry of "Oh my god! Sumeragi-kun, we've got to run! Class is in ten minutes!" was all that broke my concentration enough to draw me away from the machine.
I wanted to scream in frustration as I ran from the machine. Space Cadet was my favorite one. I'd made my way to the rank of Colonel and was half way to the next rank, right in the middle of a nearly impossible time-challenge involving the battle bunkers. I'd also had the times five multiplier on, had shattered the previous high score of fifty six million points that I'd set last week, and had the wormholes activated all while in triple ball play. I'd gotten Compensation level three, meaning that I could replay the final ball of that trio that was zipping about the field with each flick of my flippers and each hard beat of the bunkers and springs twice more after it had dropped beyond the reach of the flaps into oblivion. And I was only on my second play of three.
Damn it all!
As a group we'd run, splitting only when we reached the courtyard between the massive buildings that made the scholastic conglomeration that was Clamp Campus with Yukio running towards his Senior Class' hall, Sumiko tearing as quickly as her little feet could carry her towards her own class and Kyoshi and I keeping pace with one another through the double doors of our building, up the stairs, down three hallways and into our room.
I let my head sink onto my desk as our instructor took his position at the front of the room, lifting a hand to idly rub at the sweat-soaked and itching bandages that were wrapped around my head.
"Sumeragi-san, pay attention," our sensei scolded.
"Hai," I sighed, leaning back in my chair even as I prepared myself for the final classes of the day.
I couldn't help but snigger under my breath as Kyoshi turned his head and rolled his eyes at me before passing me a note with a picture depicting our teacher as a stick figure with a road pylon jammed into a rather censorable area of his anatomy.
Another note said, "Damn, I wish you could have finished that game! We're going to have to go back there after school."
We were caught as Kyoshi read my reply telling him that I was going to be busy, and tomorrow would be better.
As our instructor took our notepaper away from us and stalked to the front of the classroom, my friend leaned back and chuckled, "I want lunch period again."
So did I.
It was such a welcome break.
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Shiro Kamui was sulking as he tromped along behind me, his hands stuffed deeply into the pockets of the bright red jacket he'd been forced to borrow from my wardrobe and his feet, clad in shoes a size too big for him, scraping along the ground.
He was still trying to get over the indignation of hearing Hokuto-chan proclaim that she was done babysitting him for the day and I was taking him off with me to Seishiro-san's clinic that very moment.
Glancing back at him, I smiled brightly. The boy was clad in a pair of my black jeans that were probably very uncomfortable for him, being as they were too tight across his hips and waist and were a couple of inches too long. The shirt he wore fit a bit better, but a black t-shirt doesn't leave much room for an improper sizing. It was hanging loose over the waistband of those jeans as he had proclaimed that if he were to tuck it in there'd be no room for his body. His head was free of a hat, very unlike my own, and his hands bare.
Of course, he had no need for gloves. Plus I doubt they'd fit him anyway.
Hokuto-chan had proclaimed that he was thickheaded as determined by his ostentatious behavior displayed while I was at school and she was suffering his presence in my apartment, obviously quite drawn from his flailing as she'd attempted to dress him as both had confirmed he'd done.
Catching sight of my smile, he blinked once then ducked his head again and sighed softly, a blush coloring his cheeks. "I just wish she wouldn't have said it so harshly," he grunted, his voice just as surly as the rest of him.
"You realize she was joking," I light-hearted chuckled.
"She doesn't even know me. I don't know her. How am I supposed to know when she's joking?" he snorted.
A small sigh in lieu of a laugh escaped me. The poor boy did have a point. My sister can take an incredibly long time to get used to, I do suppose. How Seishiro-san had managed to so quickly adjust to her ways was still quite the mystery.
"Just take everything she says in stride, Shiro-kun," I suggested. "If she means something seriously, she'll take on a different atmosphere than what she was exhibiting when she pushed you at me and threw us out."
"Really?" he gruffly grunted.
"Really," I reassured him.
Kamui sighed then grumbled as he tugged at the jacket that hung loosely around his shoulders. "I just wish she wouldn't have accosted me."
"Accosted you?"
"She dressed me," he bit with a blush instantly lighting his cheeks. "Doesn't she have any respect for a person's privacy?"
I laughed in spite of myself. "Hokuto-chan's a bit… forward like that, I do suppose."
"Tell me about it," he huffed, his face still bright cherry red. "All she did was proclaim that she'd seen boys before, she has a twin brother for God's sake, blah blah blah, and then grabbed me and tore my clothes off."
"Did she leave you the decency of underwear?" I asked, arching a brow as I glanced over at him.
He flushed even deeper. "Yeah."
"At least she gave you that!" I teasingly shot. Usually I don't tease or joke, but that boy had a very odd way of putting me completely at ease. I'd only really known Shiro-kun for a day or so, but he was already so familiar….
A very odd phenomenon, indeed. Perhaps it had something to do with the Dragons of Heaven.
I doubted that. He simply put my mind at ease and let me – actually, encouraged me – to be myself.
As he flushed and grumped along a step behind me, we finally arrived at Seishiro-san's clinic. Opening the door, I smiled brightly as I was greeted with his cheerful voice shouting for me to head on into the back.
Walking around the counter and ducking into the examination room, my eyes widened.
A small kitten was sitting on the table, growling as it glared at the cast that encased its back leg. Orange fur still faintly tinged with blood, tabby lines lost in the mangled tangles that twisted those silky strands together, the small animal was a veritable mess.
The veterinarian who'd apparently just finished tending the animal grinned cheerfully as he walked over and laid a hand upon my shoulder. "Ah, so you did decide to swing by after all! Wonderful, wonderful. And where is your delightful sister, Subaru-kun?"
I returned his smile as I looked up into his eyes, my gaze locking upon those crescents of dark lashes behind his glasses lenses. "She's staying at home to eat bon-bons and watch 'Romancing the Stone' on television tonight. Hokuto-chan said she needs some all alone girl time."
"Ah, so that's why your houseguest is with you, neh?"
I was about to remind him that he'd expressed concern as to who would be watching Shiro-kun while I visited him and that he'd been relieved when I'd suggested bringing him along with me, but stopped before my mouth began to move. Shiro-kun hadn't known that Seishiro-san had stayed so late last night.
I didn't want to give anyone any reason to be suspicious of our activities. All I needed was for someone to figure out what we were up to, tell Hokuto-chan, and get her going on the rampage she'd promised to deliver should Seishiro-san break time honored tradition and sully her little brother before she was able to design our virginal honeymoon suite.
Every time I recalled that time she'd made her promise to castrate my dear companion and feed him his own testicles after blending them with strawberries and ice to make a tasty smoothie out of them and her proclamation that she was going to design the best suite ever, I wanted to ram my forehead solidly into a nearby wall. She had the most devious imagination, and enough of a vicious streak to follow up on it. I've always wondered where she gotten them from.
Perhaps if we'd known our parents a bit longer before their tragic end, I'd know.
Driving my thoughts instantly away from the depressing turn they were threatening to run along, I shook my head. "Yes, that's why Shiro-kun's with me," I stated, catching the glimmer in Seishiro-san's eyes as he opened them that acknowledged my fib and congratulated me on keeping our activities cleanly disguised.
Shiro-kun, meanwhile, was staring around the clinic, his mouth slowly moving.
I listened carefully, barely catching the last half of his whisper – "and he has a vet clinic? What the hell? A man like him?"
Shaking my head, I walked back to the examination table with its little kitty inhabitant, Seishiro-san's hand dragging him along with me. "What happened to this little one?" I asked even as I offered the kitten my fingers.
As it sniveled me then decided to scent mark me, Seishiro-san's voice quietly sighed from behind me. "The poor little thing was trying to cross the road to battle for the scraps I put out for the strays every night. It got hit rather badly, but it should be fine in a month or two."
"It got hit by a car?" I whispered, aghast.
"Aa. Neh, Subaru-kun, however do you do that?"
I arched a brow curiously at Seishiro-san then looked down. The kitten had all but crawled onto my hand and was mewing for me to pick it up. I happily obliged.
A smirk crossed the veterinarian's lips as he held aloft his other hand. Blood still coursed from the deep gouging scratches that coursed its fine length and oozed from the pinprick bites he'd received. "Because the little darling is quite a feisty little beast," he stated.
I stared at his hand. "Seishiro-san! You should wash that out!" I cried in concern.
"Oh, if I let it bleed a bit, it will keep the infections down," he stated happily. "However, I should be cleaning it up soon. Would you mind watching the micro-terror?"
A chuckle escaped me as I hugged the bandaged kitten to my chest. "No problem," I replied.
Shiro-kun approached as Seishiro-san left my immediate vicinity. "What's this?" he asked as he held his finger to the kitten for it to sniff.
I shook my head as the tiny tabby hissed and took a swipe at the boy's fingers and as he withdrew them with a startled squawk. "It got hit by a car. It's one of the strays that Seishiro-san provides for."
"Provides for?"
"Aa," I said. "He feeds them and if they become tame enough he takes them in, vaccinates and spays or neuters them, and gives them to good homes."
Shiro-kun's eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding me. Him?"
"He's not really so heartless as you seem to think he is."
Amethyst eyes narrowed slightly and he huffed. "Subaru-"
"Ah, hydrogen peroxide! My favorite. Bubble, bubble!"
We both turned as one towards the small bathroom at the back of the veterinarian clinic, Shiro-kun's eyes staring as if he was catching sight of a madman, my own shining with amusement.
Seishiro-san can be so strange at times, but it's relaxing. It's human. It's a confirmation that he's the sweet man he's been proving himself for the time since I met him after my wild shikigami chase rather than the cold-blooded killer his clan is led by.
"So, Subaru-kun, have you had anything to eat yet?" Seishiro-san's voice called from that bathroom moments later.
"Not yet," I replied even as I shrugged my backpack off. If he was asking about dinner, he was very likely hungry himself and ready to send me on a McDonald's run, as his clinic didn't close on Saturdays until late in the night.
"Would you-"
"Teriyaki Sandwich and a Fish Burger, right?"
Seishiro-san's voice laughed heartily. "And some fries as well! Take your little friend with you. Dinner's on me. My wallet is in my jacket in my office."
"Arigato, Seishiro-san," I said as I shook my head. He didn't need to always be purchasing dinner for me. I could afford it myself.
I grabbed Shiro-kun's wrist after putting the injured kitten back onto the examination table and dragged him away with me.
"We're going to McDonald's?" he asked.
Why did he sound so surprised? "Aa," I said after a few moments. "His clinic won't be closing until ten tonight. We're going to eat here, and I'm going to see about getting some of my homework done."
"Oh…. That's it?" Shiro-kun questioned.
"Aa. Afterwards we might do something, but until the close of the business day I've got to keep busy somehow. And while I'd rather play with the animals as I was intending to do, I really should try to get my homework done so I have tomorrow free."
"Oh. Planning on doing something tomorrow?"
I nodded even as I wove my way through the crowds that flooded the evening streets of Shinjuku. "A few friends and I were planning on going to the arcades." I blinked a few times then glanced back. "Want to come along?"
His smile was impossibly bright. "I'd love to, Subaru," he chirped.
I smiled back at him for a moment before returning my attention to the streets we were walking and the crowd we were navigating our way through. After all, I had a mission – to get dinner and meet with Seishiro-san before it got cold, to finish that diabolical homework packet and play with that antisocial little kitten.
And Shiro-kun was smiling beautifully as he followed me, his spirits lifted by the promise of going out with my friends and myself on Sunday.
After getting our food and returning to the clinic to dine, I sighed with delight as I watched Shiro-kun play with a newly born puppy from the corner of my eye, his suspicions about Seishiro-san apparently forgotten for the moment with the arrival of the fluffy bundle of squirming excitement being dropped into his lap by the cheery veterinarian who had fries hanging from between his lips like golden cigarettes.
The peaceful atmosphere was making this one lovely, wonderful Saturday evening.
tbc...