DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters that arise herein.

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful comments. Please enjoy this latest update.

Devil Delusion

He followed behind, his ever watchful eyes never leaving the ebony hair of the other. His shoulder-length dark blonde hair whisked side to side as he hunkered past the faceless crowd, hands stuffed in his pockets, feeling something small and smooth inside. He had an understanding of the small plastic's content and its use and he knew what it does to people. But he had no interest in it though rubbing the plastic pack between his fingers seemed to lessen the tension that had built up inside him. His eyes darted sideways, briefly catching his reflection as he passed a window display. He stooped lower and shuddered with unease.

It's been so long since he last stole an identity. He hoped no one would miss a drug addict who had just died the night before. He didn't feel sorry. Especially for the weak who had to resort to physical pleasures. Hiding in the shadows had been too inconvenient for him so when he stumbled upon the drug addict's body—still slightly warm to the touch—he took that opportunity and dived right into it. Now he could walk freely, not as Fuuma anymore—for now—but as...

No matter, he thought. No need to know his name. Fuuma is my name. No... that's not my name either. My real name is...

Before he could finish his thought, the ebony head swirled around without warning, revealing a pair of violet eyes. They stared at his direction, wide with shock and Fuuma's world turned into a cold void stopping him dead in his tracks. He wanted to hide, having the sudden fear that he had been recognized before remembering he was not Fuuma.

Then why is he staring at me like that? he wondered and the answer came in the form of men hurling angry words that rang in his ears like an oncoming freight train.

"Segawa!" someone snarled behind him.

A hand gripped his shoulder and twisted him around. Before he could react, a fist swung into the right side of his face, shocking him. He tried to catch himself before his awkward stumble would lead to a full fall. Around him, men watched him like a pack of hungry wolves. His cheek was starting to throb.

So, someone did miss a drug addict after all, he thought with morbid amusement.

"Segawa, you bastard! Pay me now or I'll break your leg!" the same voice threatened, accompanied by the grating sound of metal being dragged across the rough pavement.

"Hey are you fucking deaf!"

He clenched his fists and behind his fallen hair, his eyes remained shut as he felt the heat of his source raging inside him. Behind his closed lids, he knew his eyes were glowing crimson red. He knew if he opened them, he wouldn't be able to contain his powers and...

No... he thought as an image of a pair of violet eyes hovered in his mind's eye, watching him. He imagined the fear in those eyes and gritted his teeth, willing his rage to subside.

Not when Kamui's watching...

"Go on," he finally said, reopening his eyes, revealing only hazel brown irises. "Go on and break my leg," he finished with a slight sneer in his voice.

"Bastard!" the metal rod was lifted off the ground.

So... Segawa, is that your name? Tell me, what would you have done? You should be thankful that I'm doing this for you. At least now you can die with some dignity and be remembered for it.

He stuffed his hands back in his pockets with a smirk riding on the edge of his lips as he waited for the first hard blow of metal against his skull when a shadow whooshed! past him.

"Stop! Please stop!" a clear voice rang in the air and everything came to a standstill.

A head full of ebony hair ruffled in the wind, pale hands spread out like the protective wings of an eagle. The smaller figure stood before the attackers whose expressions were somewhere stuck between anger and shock.

Kamui! Fuuma thought almost madly, too stunned to move.

"I-I'll pay you!" Kamui stuttered as he struggled with his wallet. He could feel all eyes burning holes through him especially from the one he just saved.

"He owes me 50,000 yen!" the leader of the mob demanded lowering his weapon, striking it back towards the rough pavement.

Kamui was appalled. 50,000 yen! But that's all I have left for the rest of the month!

He turned around and looked at the man he had just saved from a brutal beating. His eyes were partly covered by his dark blonde hair and they were staring back at him with a profound look. The only movement coming from him was the movement in his pocket where his hand was stuffed inside. With a deep frown, Kamui marched towards the man and dived a hand straight into the depths of his pocket. He was expecting some kind of resistance from the other while he grabbed the content inside. After realizing in a split second that he was getting none, Kamui flicked the plastic pack towards the mob's leader who caught it absentmindedly.

"That's worth at least 15,000 yen," Kamui told him as he grabbed some notes from his wallet and stuffed it in the leader's shirt pocket. "And here's the rest of it! Now buzz off!"

The mob watched the strikingly beautiful young man drag the dirty drug addict they knew as Segawa away from their sight. The plastic pack was in the leader's hand, its contents glittering like magic dust. It was indeed worth 15,000 yen.

But...

He could hear the notes crinkle in his shirt pocket. As he stared at the backs of the two who were turning into mere shadows in a distance, he felt shame stinging at his ears like hot irons.

Segawa had only owed him 20,000 yen!

"Ho-hold on a sec! Hey!"

But they were already gone.

Kamui struck his heels ahead, the man with the dark blonde hair following behind. He was still trying to recover from the stunt he just pulled and as the adrenaline wore off, he was starting to shake with disbelief.

Why did I just do that?

"Why did you do that?"

Kamui stopped abruptly at his tracks, an angry chord struck within him and he struck the floor with his heels. Turning around, his face was contorted with lines of contempt as he drove an accusatory finger forward.

"I just saved you and you asked why?"

"Saved me? How did you save me?"

Kamui was knocked back speechless. Is he serious?

"Those guys were gonna kill you!"

"And what has that got to do with you? Who put you in charge of other people's lives?" his voice was as emotionless as the deep cold icy waters Kamui recalled plunging into as a young boy back in Okinawa.

"What makes you think that a drug addict can be saved? If it's not the mob, it's the drugs that will eventually kill me. By saving me, you've merely delayed my death. It doesn't change the fact that I'm going to die and not only did you not help me, you've put yourself in a spot. Don't you think so?"

Kamui could not believe what he was hearing. He bit his lips, trying very hard not to snap. He realized he was not being himself, losing his temper and all. But he was not interested in finding out what was causing him to be so riled up. Too many things have been happening lately and now this.

Trembling, he kept his eyes on the ground and remarked, "Well, forgive me for delaying your death mister! But I believe that when someone saved your life, he deserves at least a 'thanks'! Don't you think so?"

But that question was meant to be rhetorical and he turned around.

No!

Don't leave!

Kamui felt a pull on his sleeve before he could. He swung his head back, annoyance breeding all over his soft features. What now! he wanted to scream. But his anger dissipated like a cloud of smoke as he caught himself staring into the other man's eyes which he noticed for the first time were soft hazel brown and they were looking different. No longer was he carrying the face of the man who had been insulting Kamui earlier, accusing him of being nosy. Instead, all Kamui was seeing right now was a man who was sorry for what his words and actions had caused. And that wasn't all, Kamui noticed. There was something about him, the way he looked into his eyes, the way it seemed to reach deep into his soul. A familiar feeling washed over him and all of a sudden he was back at the club where the floor dappled with dance lights, listening to the slow sway of the music as he remembered the touch of the one whose eyes looked at him the same way. His lips tingled, remembering the kiss.

"You alright?"

Kamui snapped out of his reverie and blinked repeatedly. He was back out in the street and a car horn blared past him. He shook his head. It's been three weeks and he still couldn't forget the man who had only left him with a name. A name that had meant—still meant—the world to him.

Fuuma...

You left me a promise too...

Kamui did not notice the other standing before him tensed up. He did not know that the one he missed was in fact standing right before him, hiding behind a different face, listening to his thoughts.

"Home... I gotta go home," Kamui's voice barely escaped his lips but the devil's senses were extremely keen. As he turned around, he felt an arm wrap around his smaller frame and for a moment he felt safe. The same way he had felt with Fuuma.

Stop it. They're not the same person.

"You don't look well. Let me walk you back to your place," the taller one offered. Kamui looked back up at the taller man and gazed into his honey-coated eyes.

They're not the same person, he told himself one more time but for some reason, he didn't feel convinced. He looked back down and nodded, utterly disappointed that those three weeks of waiting had resulted in him being in the arms of another.

The man tightened his grip around Kamui's shoulders and quietly they strolled back to Kamui's house.

"I'm home," Kamui called from the front door. A deafening silence hummed back. As he entered his house, he noticed a white cup on the kitchen table, its edge stained by a red mark.

"My mother won't be home till late at night," Kamui said to the other who still stood a foot behind him, at the entrance of the door. He felt the man gazing down at the back of his neck, perhaps waiting for some sort of signal, giving him permission to enter.

"Please come in," Kamui said as he stepped aside, allowing the other to take the first step into his domain. This was the first time he had allowed any other man into his home other than Subaru and that realization made him shiver slightly. Was he anticipating something? He was not sure and he was afraid to venture further into his inner world, afraid of what he might discover.

"Is it just you and your mother?" the man asked, breaking the silence.

Kamui nodded.

"No siblings?"

The ebony hair flew slightly as it shook from side to side.

"I had a sister. She's..." the man paused. What the hell am I saying? Quickly changing the subject he asked, "Where's your father?"

Kamui shrugged, "he left when I was little." Then he walked towards the kitchen, "please make yourself at home. Is beer okay with you?"

The man said yes and Kamui grabbed the used coffee cup his mother had left and dumped it in the sink. For the longest time, that was her message to him: I won't be coming home tonight.

It's probably better this way. Saves him the trouble of explaining to her why there's a stranger in her house.

Those were his thoughts as he washed the cup, watching the redness fade away under the rushing water. The cold water running through his fingers brought comfort to him and it also brought him back to moments ago, before he was walking along the pavement in the crowd, before he heard the shouts that threatened to break someone's leg, before he reacted in a flash without a second thought, just because he hated seeing others get hurt.

"Ah, Shirou-kun!"

Aoki Seiichirou stood across the road, waving at Kamui. He was wearing a light brown suit matched with a red tie. Clasped beneath his other arm that held a briefcase was a copy of the daily newspaper. His smile was wide, flashing his teeth as he jogged across the street to meet the younger man. Kamui bowed and greeted politely, ignoring Aoki's protests.

"Such a pleasant surprise, Shirou-kun!" His voice thick with excitement. "What are the odds bumping into you at a place like this! Tokyo's so big!"

Kamui nodded, "please call me Kamui." He despised being called by his last name, the name that belonged to a family that never cared about his existence.

"Um, okay. Is Kamui-kun alright?"

Kamui nodded and managed to force a smile, something he had stopped doing since his return to Tokyo. He could almost imagine the corners of his lips cracking as they turned upwards.

"I heard that Subaru-kun's still in Kyoto."

"Yeah..." I miss him so much, he wanted to add.

"Well, it can't be helped. Family matters like that can drag on for months-"

"Months!" Kamui exclaimed.

Aoki looked stunned. "Yeah. It's a very important decision to make, choosing the next clan leader. But don't worry, everything will be alright. Whatever it is, I'm sure Subaru-kun will come back in one piece." He paused for a moment, gazing at the younger man who had a look as if the world was going to end. "You're pretty close to him, aren't you?"

What's that supposed to mean? Kamui's eyes asked. I'm not that close to you to come out to you.

Aoki continued, "Subaru-kun has never been this close to anyone for as long as I've known him. I'm always catching him by himself, always looking down while he walked. I used to think he's autistic. And when I met you at his grandmother's funeral and you said you're his friend I was, please pardon me, full of doubts. But then when I saw him that day at his grandmother's funeral, he was... I dunno. The word 'happy' crossed my mind. And then when I saw the way he interacted with you, I knew."

Knew what? Kamui wanted to ask. Please, I'm not in the mood to mull over your suspicion towards our relationship.

"I knew that Subaru-kun can't be autistic." Aoki finished with a relaxed shoulder, as if shrugging off a heavy burden.

"That's it?" Kamui blurted. This guy can't be that daft, can he?

Aoki gave a quizzical look, but was quickly distracted by the time on his watch. "Ah! I'm late for my appointment!" He looked at Kamui and gave a look that suggested that he would feel regretful for leaving. "Say, would you like to join me?"

"Join you?"

"Yeah, I'm actually on my way to meet my nephew."

"Daisuke-san?"

"Ah! You remembered! Why yes, and I think you should meet him."

Kamui opened his mouth to reject but Aoki was practically urging him along with his pleasant personality and enthusiasm and he thought what the hell, I've got nothing better to do anyway. Aoki beamed with genuine delight as he led Kamui to his destination.

The city hollered past him as he walked with the older man, occasionally nodding his head as he pretended to listen to his talks about work and such.

"Being a copy editor I rarely have time out, so..." Aoki rattled on. "Daisuke's exam just finished, that's why he agreed to have lunch with me." He slowed down to a halt, "ah! This is it!"

They stood right outside a cafe. The door chime tinkered loudly as Aoki pushed the door open and ushered Kamui in first. His violet eyes wandered around the crowded cafe, his ears filling with the hushed voices and the sounds of people eating. He followed behind Aoki, at the same time looking for the face that might as so much resemble the cheerful copy editor.

"Ah! Daisuke!" Aoki called as he reached a table in a corner of the cafe where the back of a young man faced them. Kamui recognized the uniform that belonged to a prestigious school in Tokyo and for the first time that day, his interest piqued. The man had the same light coffee brown hair and it turned around just as when Aoki called out to him a second time. He plucked out a pair of earphones out of his ears the minute he saw his uncle and stood up.

"Uncle," he said with a slight bow before he noticed Kamui. He shot Aoki a quizzical look who placed a hand at the back of Kamui and nudged him closer. "Daisuke, remember the young man I was talking to you about after I came back from Kyoto?"

Daisuke arched his eyebrows and nodded, "you mean Subaru-san's friend?"

Aoki bobbed his head. "Hai! This is Kamui Shirou." He then gestured towards Daisuke, "Kamui-kun, this is my favourite nephew, Daisuke Saiki."

"What are you talking about uncle? I'm your only nephew."

Aoki punched his palm, looking surprise. "Ah! That's right!"

Daisuke and Kamui exchanged pleasantries, Daisuke looking bashful for his uncle's strange behaviour. "Ah!" Daisuke suddenly exclaimed. Must run in the family, Kamui thought, slightly amused. "Sorry I was expecting only my uncle. I'll get the waiter to get us another chair."

"Let me do that, Daisuke. Why don't you boys settle down and get acquainted." Aoki said before he set his newspaper and briefcase down and hurried off. Daisuke took a brief glance at the headlines and sighed. Another earthquake had occurred in another part of Japan. It had only been a slight tremor that caused some roof tilings to fall off some buildings. And though there were no major injuries, it was still somewhat distressing. Who knows when the next natural disaster was going to happen and the daily news was like a constant reminder that the world wasn't as safe as it used to be. The 2011 tsunami had been a real case of tragedy and people around Japan are still picking up the pieces...

Picking up the menu, Daisuke cleared his throat, "what would you like to drink?"

Beer would be nice, Kamui thought but instead coffee—dark and no sugar—escaped his lips.

"They serve great pasta here," Daisuke offered and Kamui nodded. He had no preferences and really, what am I doing here? he wondered. Had he seriously followed a man he hardly knew into a cafe to have lunch with his nephew who happened to also look kinda cute? His eyes gazed around the area then back at Daisuke who had his face stuck on the menu, his eyebrows knitting tightly above his unwavering eyes. If there was anything that required him to read, he would study it like it was some sort of exam.

No, he's not going to hit on Daisuke.

"I'm back," Aoki declared and behind him was a waiter with a chair. After setting the chair down, the waiter diligently took their orders. Damn, Kamui cursed silently when Aoki ordered a beer for himself. Oh well...

"Knocking down a few today, uncle? Don't get overboard, I wouldn't know what to say to auntie this time."

This time? Kamui thought. It was kind of hard to imagine Aoki downing on alcohol. He seemed like such a responsible adult.

"Aha-ha! Daisuke! That was different! I was promoted remember?" He was awfully gleeful. He turned towards Kamui, "I'm a very sober person, honestly!"

Kamui gave his best appalling look, "I don't really care!"

Uncle and nephew chuckled. The drinks came. Kamui stared down at the swirling darkness of his coffee and a deep rich aroma filled his nostrils. The gold of Aoki's beer sparkled, flowing like rich honey as he took his first gulp before letting out a huge sigh of content. "This is good beer!' he exclaimed. Daisuke also ordered coffee but had it with milk and sugar.

"How's Lady Hinoto?" Aoki asked. At the mention of the priestess's name, the frame portrait of the late Lady Sumeragi appeared in Kamui's mind just as when he noticed the twinkle in Daisuke's eyes. Is that like some sort of password for him? Kamui wondered. Well, he's one to talk. Isn't there a special name that would light him up like the birth of a star in the middle of the dark universe? The only problem is that he suppressed it too much that no one could ever know.

"She's doing well." Daisuke replied.

"That's all?" Aoki brought up a hand to the side of his face and leaned over to Kamui in a mock whisper but loud enough for Daisuke to hear. "Daisuke's had a crush on Lady Hinoto ever since he was a mere shota."

"Sei-Seiichirou-san!"

"And he always addresses me by my last name when he's totally embarrassed."

Kamui wanted to laugh. Besides Sorata he had never met anyone else who could exploit other people's feelings and turn it into a harmless joke like that. They should seriously meet, he thought.

"Seiichirou-san!"

"Hai, hai! You're too cute not to tease Daisuke-kun!" Then just like the wind, the expression on his face changed course and an air of seriousness loomed over them. "Have you truly decided?"

Daisuke looked at his uncle in the eye and nodded. Aoki let out a small sigh and smiled. "That's good, that's good."

Kamui was curious. "What's good?"

Daisuke looked at Kamui then at Aoki. Go ahead, he gestured with a slight nod of his chin before bringing his cup of coffee to his lips.

"Well," Aoki began. "It seems that my favorite nephew has made a choice that would define the rest of his life."

"And what's that?" Kamui asked.

"He has decided to serve Lady Hinoto." Kamui looked back at Daisuke, "I thought you're already working for her."

"That's different," he said and just as he set his coffee back down, their food arrived. They waited till they were fully served before Daisuke continued.

"I've been working for Lady Hinoto as an apprentice." He sprinkled extra cheese onto his pasta. "An apprentice can choose to leave as and when he pleases. But what I'm going to do is more than just being an apprentice."

"Daisuke's going to be initiated into Lady Hinoto's order. He's going to be granted a seat under her direct wing. And for that he's going to take a very important oath that would affect the rest of his life." Aoki paused. The rest is for you to finish, his silence said.

"I'm going to have to take the oath of abstinence."

Kamui's strand of pasta slipped off his fork and he stared at Daisuke.

"Ah, that's the exact same look I had when he told me about it." Aoki chirped.

"Wow," Kamui uttered as he thought of Subaru's Ōoji-san. "What did your parents say?"

"They were a bit disappointed at first. I'm the only son on my father's side of the family. So naturally the expectation of continuing the family line falls heavily on my shoulders. They tried to talk me out of it. But ultimately, the decision is mine to make."

"He's very adamant about it," Aoki added. "In fact, the reason why he studied in a prestigious school was to make a point to his father that it wasn't because he can't study. But that it was his choice to work for Lady Hinoto. Hokuto-chan was right when she said he didn't need to."

"Hokuto-san said what?" Daisuke asked. Aoki told him and Daisuke frowned.

"Hokuto-san's a loudmouth and this is my personal opinion: She shouldn't be the Sumeragi clan's next head."

Aoki gasped, "you can't be serious! I thought you like her!"

"It's nothing personal. I'm speaking from an objective point of view that Hokuto Sumeragi cannot be the clan's head. She's too willful. Plus she's not as powerful as Subaru-san whom I think is more suitable."

"Um..."

They immediately turned their eyes towards Kamui who looked like he wasn't sure if he should be listening to their conversation, though it was all very intriguing.

"This is very normal talk," Aoki assured him. "And since you know Subaru-kun there's nothing to be secretive around you."

"Just how close are you to Subaru-san anyway?" Daisuke asked.

Kamui's food turned delicious all of a sudden, "We're... best friends." He wanted to be as vague as possible because the last thing he wanted to lie about was his sexual orientation but he wasn't sure if these people were open about it.

"If Subaru-kun becomes the 13th head, he'll have to stay in Kyoto for good," Aoki told him and Kamui suddenly felt light-headed.

"If Hokuto-san becomes the 13th head, the clan's doomed for good." Daisuke said as a matter of factly.

"That's kind of a harsh thing to say Daisuke. I think Hokuto-chan deserves more credit than that."

"I'm not discrediting her. I admire her for what she's done for her family. But that's not enough. The clan needs someone who has the powers. She doesn't. Plus she has a tendency to make bad choices."

"What kind of bad choices?"

"Take her husband for one."

"Kakyou-san?" Aoki's eyebrows could not arch any higher. "Well," he looked down and began to rub his chin. "I do admit that there's something off about him."

"He's a fake that's what," Daisuke crossed his arms and scoffed.

Aoki called for the bill, putting an abrupt end on the conversation. Kamui began to fumble for his wallet but Aoki stopped him.

"My treat."

"But..."

"Don't worry about it," Aoki said waving him off. "I'm going to pay Lady Hinoto a visit. Say, would you like to join us?"

The deafening sound of silence shook Kamui out of his trance. The water had stopped flowing and the man he had invited into his house was standing next to him with one hand on the tap, looking down at him. "That beer sure is taking a long time to arrive." he said as he stuffed his hand back in his pockets. "Is everything alright?" Kamui gazed back into those deep set eyes that had a golden hue.

"Sorry," Kamui said. He stepped away from the sink and took two cans of beer. He passed one to the other and walked towards the couch in the living room where it's brighter. But it won't be for long, he realized when he saw the hands on the clock inching towards the time of dusk. "I got carried away. I forgot that you're here."

"That hurts," the other said with a small lop-sided smile. "How can you forget about the man you're responsible for saving?"

He followed Kamui and sank onto the couch next to him. Kamui's insides felt strange and even though he hardly knew the man who was close enough to touch him, he felt completely at ease. He knew this feeling. He was sure he felt this before.

But how can this be? he wondered, refusing to turn around and look at the other.

My brain is telling me that they are completely different persons, but my heart is telling me otherwise.

There's only one way to find out.

Kamui put the beer away and faced the man. For a long time, they stared at each other before Kamui finally found the courage to ask. "Would you love a man?"

The look of surprise was soon replaced by a smile. Without a word, the man inched towards Kamui whose lips waited for an answer. They touched softly and Kamui caught the sweet scent of beer as the man breathed into his lips. He parted them and a tongue lightly flicked his, sending a jolt of current down his spine. They separated from him and the man's hair traced across his face as he started to plant soft kisses along Kamui's face and neck. Kamui's breathing grew more rapid and locks of dark blonde hair entwined between his fingers as he grabbed the other's head.

"Ah!" he gasped as his senses began to unravel, heightening towards an unfamiliar peak. This was an entirely new experience, something that he had never ventured with Subaru. Even during the times he touched himself, it had never felt this amazing. And it was just touching right now with his clothes still on. He could not even imagine what it'd be like otherwise. Just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt the unbuttoning of his shirt. It was slow and gentle at first but as soon as he brushed a hand lightly against the pressing center of the other, the pace quickened and soon he felt his bare chest being ravaged with kisses grounded by a sense of urgency. Kamui writhed beneath the other, feeling the tightness of his own center throbbing against the insides of his pants.

The other's shirt flared open, revealing a smooth chest that heaved against his own. He could feel their hearts beating in unison as the wetness of their skins touched in places where no other had ever touch. This was the kind of excitement that could never wear them thin. It could only drown them.

Fuuma! Kamui called out in his mind. In his mind, he only saw a pair of dangerous eyes shadowed by the dark flow of hair. In his mind, he had his legs entangled between those of Fuuma, feeling his hardness throbbing against him. He imagined a certain wetness dripping on him, marking him. And oh how he long it to be true so that he could take him in and drink him in, he thought ecstatically.

Fuuma! Where are you?

Suddenly, the man stopped whilst his lips were pressed against his navel. His blonde hair fell over his face as he looked back up at Kamui.

But I'm here! he thought suddenly. I'm Fuuma! I'm-!

He jumped away from Kamui who was left sprawling over the couch, his shirt almost ripped off and baring his pale and tender chest and shoulders. His violet eyes stared back at him as they watched him back towards the door. In their stark silence they were screaming for him to come back.

"I'm not Fuuma," he mumbled to himself but loud enough for Kamui to hear. His hands gripped at his face and he began to moan.

What the fuck am I doing? I almost... I almost...

Sensing fingers lightly touching his hand, he roughly jerked them away. Kamui had gotten up and was looking up at him with concern written all over his face. Confused and wanting an explanation he asked, "what's wrong?"

Kamui...

He stared at Kamui, the sleeves of his white shirt hanging from his elbows, flaring out like the wings of a...

Little bird eh? A distinct chuckle echoed in his head. Time to return, Dark Lord.

He reached for the door knob and flung the door open. Like a man borne of madness, he plunged away into the night.

The apartment door creaked open and a pair of black leather shoes tapped against the cold floor as they walked into the apartment. They stopped as the door began to close, allowing a little bit of corridor light to flicker through before it was completely shut out. The tall dark figure of a man in a long midnight coat turned to face the rest of the apartment and paused. There was another figure in the room and it was standing near the tall window, its unseen face turned away from him. There were only enough city lights from the outside world that cast a faint outline of white against the silhouette of the other, allowing him to see that it was a form he was unfamiliar with. He frowned, though in the dark it would be hard to see. Then from the deep pockets of his trenchcoat he dug out a small pack and gently shook a cigarette out.

An orange light circled his face after a small fire sprang to life at the flick of his lighter and he took a long drag, bringing a deep fiery glow onto the tip of the cigarette. A faint musky scent soon filled the room and Seishirou sauntered in, his eyes never leaving the form of the other.

"You look different," he commented and took another drag. "What ever happened to Fuuma?"

No answer came from his master.

Seishirou shrugged and flicked the ashes off his cigarette onto a nearby ashtray. "Ever since her, you've never been anyone else and to think that I was just finally deciding to settle down with that idea." There was a slight mockery in his voice. He was grinning and he knew how much the dark lord hated it.

"So who are you now?"

He waited until his cigarette was finished and was ready to give up and leave for his bedroom when he heard the other speak.

"I'm still Fuuma..."

The Sakurazukamori turned around, momentarily taken aback by the striking white outline of the worldly lights against the form of the other. A quiet mystery part of an age long gone. No matter what form, he always managed to look beautifully devilish. he thought, chuckling softly as his eyes lingered on good ol' Fuuma.

"Welcome back," he crooned before he clicked his bedroom door close behind him. He's a very patient man. Explanations can come tomorrow.

A/N: Reviews are deeply appreciated!