Chapter 13 - Fuuma Hears Some Bad News
Somewhere, amid all the excitement in the lives of a cluster of young people in Tokyo, autumn had changed into winter. Though Japan's capital was lucky to avoid suffering the blustering cold of the north, the rapid decrease in temperature made Fuuma very, very glad for Tokiko's donation. He didn't know if persocon were supposed to feel the cold (Sorata was no help, as he insisted on bundling up Arashi because she looked cute like that) or even warmth, for that matter, but Kamui did. To his credit, Kamui hid the fact very well – Fuuma assumed that the deception was out of the need to keep him from worrying – and it was only after he woke up one morning to find the little persocon's teeth chattering that he'd been clued in.
Kamui had been sleeping underneath the covers for almost a week, and Fuuma still didn't know whether or not he was completely okay with it. The persocon stayed perfectly still in his sleep, but the feeling of waking up to another body so close to his was bizarre. And it led to unexpected tension, as Fuuma had a tendency to worry about moving too much. Thankfully, Kamui often got up long before his owner, leaving him only with the problem of getting to sleep at night. It'd only been six days; the prospect of the arrangement being longer was daunting, to say the least.
Despite those troubles, however, life seemed to be moving along quite well. A bright yellow pencil twirled between his fingers as Fuuma tuned out the teacher's lecture; his mind turned to more interesting, if not pleasant, ramblings. He'd had four more dates with Yuzuriha, and decided that he really liked spending time with her. So much so, that the age gap between them was hardly a thought anymore. It was only three years or so, after all. His relationship with the girl also mellowed her grandmother's opinion of him, which helped him at work. He had an inkling that he might be getting a bit of a raise come December. All in all, things were good, he decided.
The chimes which signaled the end of classes couldn't come soon enough for the restless students. The rumor of snow was in the air, and with it came hopes for snowball fights and romantic walks amid white-dusted trees. Sorata happily "helped" Arashi into her tiny coat as they all made ready to leave. "You got another date today, Monou?" He asked, his grin toothy and begging for a chance to tease. "Seems like you're seeing Yuzu-chan a lot, lately."
Fuuma waved him off with a snort. "I see her four days a week, at work, idiot." When Sorata rolled his eyes, he laughed. "But not today," he said quickly, stalling any retort as he pulled on his coat. "Thought I'd swing by the flower shop and pick Kamui up."
Arashi climbed primly up onto Sorata's shoulder as the Kansai boy processed that. The pair made their way to the front gate, their walk unusually silent. Fuuma glanced over at his companion and found his eyes widening just a little as he thought he saw a flicker of displeasure pass over his friend's face before becoming lost in his usual smile. "Ah well, then I guess I'll have to find other company home." Sorata winked at him and headed off to the left as Fuuma went right; a wave later and he'd ducked out of sight.
The walk to the flower shop seemed shorter today, as streets and people passed by without much notice. Fuuma's thoughts turned inward, wondering what – if anything – he'd seen in Sorata's face. The musings quickly turned from curious to defensive; as if the other had any right to comment on proper behavior toward persocon. A day or two ago, he'd been gushing over how cute Arashi had looked in the mittens he'd bought. Ridiculous to spend that much time on something so trivial – especially since most persocon models didn't feel cold or heat at all. No, he decided; Sorata had no right to judge him at all.
He stepped into the flower shop to the jingling of the bell above the door, gaining himself a happy welcome from the shop's two employees. He braced himself just in time to catch Kamui's smaller form as he raced to hug him. All his dismal thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as he smiled down at his persocon, smoothing his hair out a little.
Eventually, Kusanagi emerged from the back room and waved, checking his watch. "A little late, aren't you?" He asked, teasingly, as he wiped his brow. Because of the cold outside, the temperature in the little shop was almost tropical; Fuuma had found that he could only spend so much time in the place before it became uncomfortable. "Kamui-kun was just about to head home without you."
Fuuma gave Kamui a slight nod, as if that possibility wasn't out of the ordinary. Since their schedules often overlapped and things came up, there was no way of knowing if Kamui would have an escort home or not after work. The deal was that if Fuuma hadn't come after fifteen minutes, Kamui was to walk home alone. The entire Monou family had been careful to impress upon the persocon that he was to go directly home and the only thing he should stop for was traffic. They knew him too well to be anything but painfully literal on this point. There were even worse things than strip shows out there, and Fuuma didn't need to be psychic to know that, if left to his own devices, Kamui would find every single one of them purely by accident. "Glad I made it in time, then," he replied easily, letting Kamui go so he could clean up and get his things.
Kusanagi watched him bound into the back of the shop and chuckled. "He's a good worker, Monou-san," he said. "Learned everything in no time; even how to handle his admirers."
That comment made Fuuma laugh. "I've heard they're a little… keen… on him."
"To say the least." The florist's voice was wry. "But they're happy to buy something if he thinks it's nice, so I'm not complaining."
Fuuma's reply was cut short by the jangle of the door's bell, which was just as well; as he checked his watch, he noticed the time and became anxious to leave to avoid walking the entire way home in the dark. He glanced up to make his excuses, when he noticed that the expression on the older man's face had become brighter, though at the same time, almost a little sad. "Missy…"
"Kusanagi-san!" He'd heard that voice before, almost every day. He turned to indulge his curiosity and was surprised to see his coworker's petite frame struggling with a large bento box. "I brought some dinner, I thought we could have a picnic in the shop and–"
As she set the box down, the sunny smile on Yuzuriha's face froze as she saw that she and the shop owner were not alone.
"Uh-oh…"
---
Akira fussed over Nokoru's hair and clothing as the hands of the clock ticked toward dinner hour. Normally, such attention was unneeded; his owner took fairly good care of his appearance and suppertime was a rather simple affair. Tonight, however, the matriarch of the Imonoyama zaibatsu had requested her youngest son's presence at her table. Nokoru very nearly ordered Akira out of the room after the persocon mused over a change of clothes with ten minutes to go; only refraining because he knew the persocon would wear a path in the carpet with worry. So, he tried to maintain a conversation with Suoh as Akira mothered him.
"And you're sure you've checked every message board?" The yellow tassel of his fan frayed in protest as it once again became tangled around Nokoru's fingers. This seemed to be the only nervous habit years of training hadn't drummed out of the youth, though he was very good about restraining it in all but the most private of moments.
Suoh nodded, for once infinitely patient with the question that had been asked, in various forms, more than a dozen times. "Yes, Kaichou. There's still nothing new, even on the third woman."
Nokoru sighed irritably. He'd hoped to bring some more information to bargain with than simply two photographs and a sob story when he met with his mother. One didn't open the Imonoyama records for perusal to anyone – not even a family member – without pressing reason. His status as her youngest and possibly favorite child would do little for him tonight. He'd thought that his case would be made for him when the second photo had arrived in his inbox last night. Judging by the fact that the previous pair of women appeared in the picture, though this time sans Kamui, he felt safe assuming that it had come from the same sender.
And this photograph had added another interesting piece of the puzzle.
The black-haired woman was seated as she had been in the first picture; off to the left, framed by laboratory equipment. The brown-haired woman had changed places, standing behind a chair now occupied by an attractive blond woman with curly hair and bright blue eyes. Suoh's analysis of the two pictures hinted that the second had been taken earlier. To add to the intrigue, the brown-haired woman's hand rested on the blonde's shoulder, allowing Nokoru to assume that they might have been closer than simple colleagues.
Even Suoh had been a bit excited by this latest evidence; taken in by the possibility that they would certainly be able to find the identities of one of this new woman. Two people could possibly disappear from the face of the planet, but it was hard to believe that three could.
Unfortunately, it seemed that their hopes were too high, too early, for the return on them had been absolutely silent.
The response left Nokoru with an even firmer belief that the information was somewhere in the CLAMP Campus records, and even less information to back it up. It left him in a somewhat sour mood as Akira ushered him out of the office and into the car waiting downstairs. The pair of persocon waved to him as they drove out of sight, winding through little explored areas of the campus and eventually reaching the Chairwoman's favorite meeting place. He took the elevator up to the top of the clock tower and bowed low as he entered the room.
"Good evening, Nokoru-san." The Chairwoman – for in this element, in front of her face, he had never been able to call her "mother," even to himself – intoned regally. Her deep voice layered with equal parts majesty and mystery. Shifting her ever-present fan to obscure her eyes, she gestured for him to come and sit with her. "I'm pleased you could make it tonight."
He bowed again before settling down across from her. His feet swung a little in a chair that was too high to let them touch the floor. "It's always an honor to see you, Rijichou," he replied smoothly and was rewarded with a slight smile. He rarely saw her, perhaps once or twice a month, and never just to see her. An audience always required a reason. "I have a favor to ask of you."
Manners dictated that she nod and acknowledge the request, though nothing more would be spoken about it until after their meal. A pair of human attendants brought in their first course, followed by another who set a delicate, nearly translucent screen between them to keep her from being completely visible. Only after it was securely in place did she set down her fan and begin to eat. He'd never seen the Chairwoman's face; he'd always assumed that it was for security reasons. Should he ever fall victim to a successful kidnapping, he'd never be able to describe her completely. As with so many of his family's quirks, he accepted it and moved on.
They ate in relative quiet, picking their way through three delicious courses with nothing of import passing between them. She asked about his studies, the Student Council and inquired after Suoh and Akira. He asked about his brothers and sisters, her health and expressed hope that she was not working herself too hard. A very simple dance that, having been strictly adhered to, filled the silence and revealed nothing.
After the dessert had been cleared, the screen was removed and the air in the room became much more formal. "Now, Nokoru-san," she began. "Tell me about this request you have made."
He explained the situation from the beginning as she listened intently and sipped at her tea. He told her about Monou-san, Arisugawa-san and Kamui; revealed his theories surrounding the persocon's unusual programming and his connection to the blackout; and admitted finally that he'd been held up in his investigation, hinting strongly that he had no other recourse.
She contemplated his petition carefully, remaining silent for several long moments. Patiently, he sampled his own tea and admired the view of Tokyo Tower. It had been said by many that the CLAMP Campus' first building offered the city's best view of the massive steel and wire structure. He slowly brought his attention back to his companion as she set her teacup down on the table.
"May I see these photographs?"
The manila envelope slid easily across the table, and she laid them out carefully to inspect them. Her neutral expression slipped slightly as her lips tightened in what might have been the beginnings of a frown. Nokoru felt his perfect posture straighten even further; regardless of the outcome of his request, something in those pictures had piqued her interest. Something in there was important, and not only that, something was familiar. If she denied him access to the records, she might offer him some information instead.
He waited, albeit a little less patiently, as she slid the photographs back into the envelope and rested her hand over them. "I'm going to grant your request, Nokoru-san," she said with her beautiful, subtle smile. "I believe this information is of interest for the sake of your friends, as well as others."
He bowed in his seat, keeping his own smile within the bounds of good manners and thanked her in a calm, measured voice. "Thank you, Rijichou. I am very grateful for your help."
She nodded in return and he stood to make his exit.
"Nokoru-san?"
Her voice at his back made him pause, turning to look at her over his shoulder.
"Do be careful with how you use this information," she wasn't looking at him, rather, out over the city. But he could see her smile in the window's reflection, and it gave him a chill.
"What you're looking for is going to draw a great deal of attention."
---
"Yuzuriha-chan?" Fuuma had to admit that he was confused. He'd expected the girl to possibly be surprised to see him, as this shop was a good bit out of the way for him, and they'd never met up here before. But the blush that was painting her cheeks and her anxious expression told him that he'd been caught up in the middle of something he shouldn't even know about.
For her part, Yuzuriha fidgeted with the cloth tie on the box and didn't seem to want to look at him. "Ah… hi, Monou-san." The end of his name was lost in a rush of nervous giggling. "Funny meeting you here!"
He raised an eyebrow at her, feeling a bit lost. "I suppose…"
A little movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention to Kusanagi, who was watching them both appraisingly. He wasn't sure he liked the expression on the man's face; though there was nothing bad he could put his finger on. Just… he felt a little nervous himself. The man smiled sadly and stepped out from behind the counter. "Perhaps I should go check on Kamui-kun," he said and turned to leave.
Yuzuriha looked absolutely frantic when Fuuma looked back at her. There was a notion nagging at him that he didn't want to acknowledge; he hoped that there was another reason she was acting like this. "You okay, Yuzuriha-chan?"
She let out a massive sigh and covered her face with her hands, shaking her head hard enough to send her short black hair flying. "I'm sorry!" Her voice, though muffled by her hands, seemed to be on the edge of tears. He let her hide for another moment and then carefully pulled her hands away from her face, feeling his heart sink a little more as she looked up with watery eyes. "I'm so sorry, Monou-san."
He tried for a smile, though he realized too late that it felt more like a grimace. "What for?" He knew he was stabbing himself in the foot by asking, but it was better if he brought it up instead of waiting for her to pony up the information. If he didn't like what he heard, he could always blame himself instead of it all being solely on her.
Her lower lip trembled and she tucked it between her teeth briefly before glancing down and pulling away from him. "I like you a lot, Monou-san," she started, and Fuuma felt his heart sink a little lower. "But… you see…" her voice dropped even further, as if preparing to share something shocking. "I love Kusanagi-san."
"You LO--"
She clapped a hand over his mouth before he could get it all out, making shushing motions with her other hand. "Please don't say anything!" She begged. "He doesn't know it yet. He just thinks I have a silly crush and because he's so kind, he's letting me have it for a little while."
As she pulled her hand away, he nearly asked her how "kind" someone could be if they blatantly walked the edge of pedophilia and did nothing to discourage it. He glanced back toward the back room and wondered if he really wanted Kamui working for a man with a closet Lolita complex.
She seemed to read what he was thinking, or she'd heard it before, because although her expression was still guilty, a steely sort of determination trickled into her eyes. "He is a nice man, Monou-san."
Fuuma sighed and rolled his eyes upward; any mask was a good one when it covered how hurt he felt. "Why did you get me involved?"
"Obaasama doesn't know about Kusanagi-san," she said softly, and Fuuma couldn't help but snort. Of course her grandmother didn't know, why would she? All she would do would be the intelligent thing and tell Yuzuriha that she shouldn't see the man anymore and for gods' sake go out with someone her own age. He felt a little sick.
"So you needed someone to cover for you."
Yuzuriha seemed to recoil at the lack of emotion in his words; he wasn't feeling charitable enough to believe she was only upset that she'd used him. "Monou-san, I'm really sorry…"
Had he been capable of gratitude at the moment, he would've given it in heaps to Kamui just then, for the little persocon chose that moment to emerge from the back room. From his subdued demeanor, Fuuma guessed that Kamui had spoken to Kusanagi and was warned that his typical exuberance might not be the best thing. It hardly mattered; Fuuma was just glad to have a reason to leave. "Ready to go?"
Kamui nodded, giving Yuzuriha a quick, curious look before focusing back on his owner. Fuuma could see the unspoken question, "Can I help her?" die as Kamui met his eyes. The persocon answered in a very meek voice. "Kamui is ready to go now."
Fuuma gave Yuzuriha a halfhearted wave – no one could accuse him of having no manners – as they turned to go. "See you at work, Nekoi-san." He closed his ears to her sorrowful reply and was all too glad for the numbing cold that hit him when he stepped outside.
---
Despite his better judgment, Kamui remained quiet the whole walk home. He'd wanted to tell Fuuma all about his day, uneventful as it was, and maybe take away that hard, angry expression on the other's face. He was a little frightened of that look; he'd never seen it before today, in the months since he'd been activated. Mostly, however, he was worried about his owner. Kusanagi-san had told him that Fuuma might be upset, so Kamui should be careful not to bother him too much. Walking out into the shop proper and seeing the girl so unhappy made Kamui take that advice and not risk furthering the other's bad mood.
The quiet made the trip seem longer, and Kamui used the time to plan something nice for dinner. He'd make something Fuuma liked to cheer him up. It worked for Kyougo and Kotori, most of the time, and it was a common enough idea in the stories he'd read. People were happier eating food they liked the best. It couldn't hurt, anyhow.
Something wet and cold landed on his nose and he pawed at it with mittened hands, glancing upward to see strange white things drifting down toward him. His memory supplied the word "snow" and he felt something akin to awe as he watched it fall. Unconsciously, he tugged on Fuuma's sleeve, prompting a grunted question until he looked where the other was pointing. "It snows," Kamui breathed, watching happily as the flakes landed on his coat and felt them cling to his eyelashes. "First time snow."
The fact that he saw Fuuma smile made it all the more wonderful.
He was still staring straight up at the sky, Fuuma leading him by the hand, when they returned to the shrine. He wisely kept his mouth closed; Fuuma had gently warned him against swallowing any of the white flakes, but all his attention was on the sky. Never in his short life had he wanted to stay outside as he had then, but his responsibilities within the house took priority. He called a cheerful hello as they hung their coats up and slipped out of wet-soled shoes. Kyougo called back from the kitchen, and Kamui hurried in to tell him all about what he'd seen.
"Snow, Kyougo-san!"
The older man chuckled and set his paper down. Fuuma plodded in a moment later and began to sift through the mail. "This is the first time you've seen it, right?" Kamui nodded in earnest and Kyougo smiled. "You're lucky, Kamui-kun," he said gently. "It doesn't snow all that often here."
The persocon beamed. "Kamui lucky."
And with that, he began to look through the pantry and refrigerator to find something for dinner, humming softly to himself and only half listening to the conversation between father and son.
"She's not going to be home for dinner tonight," Kyougo was saying, skimming his newspaper again.
Fuuma tilted his head, curiously; now that the happiness of the first snow had died away, some of that troubled humor returned. Kamui hurried to get things ready, hoping the others would be patient.
"Is she out with friends or something?"
Kyougo smiled a little. "She said she had a date."
The egg Kamui was holding rolled out of his hand and smashed onto the counter without him even realizing it. The news surprised him, for he knew how protective Fuuma was of his younger sister, and the concepts of "dating" and "Kotori" almost never came together without a negative. Fuuma's eyes narrowed slightly, as if the wheels of retribution had already begun to turn. "With who?"
Kyougo seemed unaffected by his son's reaction, as if it was expected. "I think your friend Arisugawa came to pick her up." His hand came up quickly, cutting off a protest or exclamation. The murderous look on Fuuma's face was enough. "Don't even think about going after them, Fuuma."
"But Father--"
"She'll be just fine," Kyougo admonished gently. "You can let her out from under your wing for tonight."
Without a word, only the eloquence of clenched fists and furious eyes, Fuuma turned on his heel and left the room. Kamui set his cooking implements down and tried to understand the helplessness that welled up in his throat. So many new things today; it was difficult to sort them all out. He desperately looked over at Kyougo and the man gave him a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry too much, Kamui-kun. It's not easy to learn that your baby sister is growing up."
Kamui took Kyougo's word for it, since it wasn't any easier for him to understand.
He ended up making curry for dinner; most of which went uneaten. After he cleaned up the kitchen and made preparations for the next day, he headed upstairs with a healthy amount of trepidation. He didn't know what he could do for Fuuma to help, and it worried him. That was his job, after all. He was supposed to take care of his owner in all things. But he didn't know how to fix this. He didn't even understand what was going on.
Kamui couldn't help but think that if he'd been a proper persocon, he'd be able to be what Fuuma needed him to be.
As he approached Fuuma's door, he was surprised to find Arisugawa-san's persocon sitting on the floor beside it. She appeared bored, as usual, though she seemed glad enough to see him as he bent down to pick her up. "Sora-chan said he didn't want to be bothered tonight," she said matter-of-factly. "He said I should stay with you."
"Oh," came the intelligent answer. "Okay."
She sat on his shoulder as Kamui discovered that Fuuma's door was locked. Frowning, he knocked. "Fuuma?"
His owner's response was long in coming.
"Sorry, Kamui," Fuuma answered, voice laced with exhaustion. "You'll have to sleep on the couch tonight."
Kamui stood in the hallway for an undetermined length of time before complying with his owner's wishes.
And it hurt.
"Everyone leaves us."
---
I hadn't planned on this chapter being so angst-ridden, but it just turned out that way. The next one is a little less heavy, though things don't get better for Fuuma (and by proxy, Kamui) for a while. Poor Fuuma. ;;;
Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I'm so glad you all are sticking with me. I do have to say thanks in particular to Yersi Fanel, who liked the fic so much that she reviewed three times in twenty-four hours. Glad you like the fic!
Next Chapter: Someone new joins the group, someone starts making connections, and someone gets a little closer to finding someone else.