Chapter Fourteen – Kamui Disappears
Dawn looked different when seen from the grandeur of the porch windows; framed by the trees that lined the shrine like a natural wall. Kamui didn't know why, but he didn't like it. Having stayed awake the entire night, watching the stars rise and fall beyond the treetops while trying to puzzle out his current situation, there was less of an intimacy or beauty to the rising colors in the sky. He preferred watching the big ruby-colored ball through the hazy blue of Fuuma's bedroom's curtains. His internal alarm was going off, reminding him that he had to start on the laundry...
He was strangely ambivalent about the chore. Though he didn't prefer to wallow in his confusion, it was more interesting at the moment than whether or not the clothes would get washed. He'd been wide awake when Kotori had sneaked in the house at sometime past midnight. She'd signaled for him to be quiet, so he hadn't had a chance to say anything to her. Ostensibly, she hadn't wanted him to wake the rest of the house, but Kamui thought it was less out of courtesy than it was more out of the fear of her older brother's interrogation.
The thought of Fuuma, wondering what he could possibly do, made him sigh. The sound brought Arisugawa-san's little persocon around, and she glanced up at him curiously. He'd tried to talk about his concerns with her, but her logic program wasn't advanced enough to handle the amount of loops he'd tried to put it through without even knowing it. She'd politely asked him to give up around an hour after Kotori had gone up to bed. Now, he just shook his head and she seemed content to leave it at that.
His biggest obstacle, he decided, was that he didn't know what to do to help Fuuma. Simply being around and available for the other didn't seem like it would do much quickly, and Kamui couldn't bear the thought of Fuuma being unhappy any longer than necessary.
Eventually, his "make breakfast" alarm out-nagged his "do laundry" alarm, and dragged him back to caring about silly things like his morning routine. He wandered into the kitchen with Arashi on his shoulder and found the single breakfast plate in the sink. It took him a moment to realize that he'd completely missed Kyougo leaving for his meeting. He was momentarily disturbed that the attention he was devoting to Fuuma's problems was so great as to obscure almost everything else. Given that he was, despite whatever else, the housekeeper at the Tokagushi Shrine, that kind of distraction was very bad.
He let the worries slip away for a while, busying himself with breakfast and trying to make up for lost wash time. Before he knew it, the light steps of the Monou's youngest sounded against the wooden floor. He looked up immediately, holding out a small tray for her to take. "Good morning, Kotori!"
Her smile was tired, and less affectionate toward him than it used to be. "Good morning, Kamui-chan," she replied, looking over the food and then smiling a little bit more. "Breakfast looks good, as usual."
He thanked her quickly, time for questions vanishing as Fuuma appeared. He couldn't help but notice that even the sunlight seemed to dim in the face of the older boy's mood. Fuuma ignored his food, ignored him, and focused on his sister. Kotori's blue eyes widened, but she picked at her rice as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Or tried to, anyway.
"Have fun last night?"
Both sister and persocon winced at his tone. She set her chopsticks down carefully and her expression was plaintive. "Oniichan, don't be mad," she said quickly, barreling forward when it looked like Fuuma was going to argue. "Sorata-san asked me out yesterday after school." Her expression tightened a little. "You weren't around to tell."
Kamui almost felt like an intruder, watching the beginnings of an inevitable row between brother and sister. But, being that he'd decided to try and be there for his owner, he couldn't very well leave when things got heated. "Fuuma pick up Kamui yesterday," he offered helpfully, biting his lip when his owner's expression didn't shift. The other appeared to not even hear him.
Kotori had, however. And her face was a mask of something he couldn't identify. "I know, Kamui-chan," she answered, her tone clipped. "You have to come first, don't you?"
Even Kamui wasn't simple enough to miss that the question was rhetorical, and directed not at him, but at her brother. Still, the program that passed for a heart mysteriously started to beat faster, making his chest hurt.
Fuuma's eyes narrowed. "Why would you go out with someone like Arisugawa?" He demanded, either missing the venom in the question completely or just ignoring it.
His lack of reaction only encouraged hers, and Kamui was scared. She picked herself up from her chair and stood to face Fuuma, chin raised defiantly. "Because, oniichan," she spat out the word as if it tasted bad. "It's not such a bad thing to have someone like me!" She leveled a thin finger at him. "And don't you do anything to him, I mean it. Sorata-san's a nice boy."
Something about that made Fuuma sneer. Kamui startled when he felt Arashi's little hand pat his cheek, as if trying to reassure him. Her expression seemed a little put out that Fuuma was not-so-subtly implying that her owner wasn't good enough for his little sister, but she contented herself with alternately scowling and giving Kamui supportive glances.
"He's a flake, Kotori," Fuuma snapped. "He's not serious about anything."
"How can you say that?" Kotori shouted, her delicate skin flushed an angry red. "He's your friend and you're in no place to judge him!"
Kamui thought he'd seen his owner's back stiffen a bit with that rebuke, though the other showed no other sign of knowing what the enraged girl meant. "I'm your brother, Kotori." On the contrary, his tone seemed completely reasonable compared to the fury he'd driven his sister to. "I can have an opinion on who wants to get their hands on you, can't I? Heaven forbid I worry about you."
For a moment, it looked like Kotori would slap him; her hand was pressed against her chest, all resolve directed toward keeping it there and not whipping across her brother's face. She was still seething, but there were tears in her eyes now. "Don't you dare, oniichan," she hissed through her tightly clenched teeth. "Not when you're so much worse." Fuuma looked like he wanted to say something, but she cut him off, her voice getting louder with every word.
"You never pay attention to us—to me—anymore, so you get no say! If it's not work, it's that--" She flung her hand out to point accusingly at Kamui. "It's weird, oniichan! You're ignoring everyone, it's not healthy!"
Slowly, the color drained from Fuuma's face; Kotori's anger had finally hit a nerve he couldn't ignore. Kamui, meanwhile, felt himself close the world out, until he barely cared who either Monou was. He'd never dreamed that he could be the cause of so much trouble, so much anger, between siblings who had seemed to be so happy together. The pair continued arguing for some time, eventually splitting up in a rush of angry words and slamming furniture. At one point, he thought Fuuma was talking to him, but it was only to collect Arashi – presumably to return her to Sorata.
Somehow, the dishes were washed and the food put away. The clothes were set out to dry and Kamui dressed for work. Nothing seemed to make much impression on him, and that was all right. Sadly, the snow that dusted the ground failed to move his spirits upward, as it had last night. A few stray flakes landed on his hand and for a moment, he was surprised to realize that they didn't melt.
But of course they didn't. And they wouldn't; he knew this, and yet had managed to forget.
Focusing on the complexities of snow-and-plastic interaction made the rest of the world return around him. People flowed around him, all immediately falling into one of those three categories, though today they didn't seem to need to talk to him. That was okay, because he was content to just observe.
He was a half an hour late to work by the time he realized what time it was, and he began to run. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of a blue covered book in a store display and stopped short. It was another of those books; the sad-eyed rabbit-creature stared out at him from the cover. But this time, it had another rabbit-creature beside it. Intrigued, Kamui stepped over to the display and picked up one of the books, all thoughts of work curiously gone from his mind.
Kamui began flipping through the book, skimming the pictures as he felt that strange lightheadedness that he'd come to see as going hand-in-hand with the books. Sounds began to muffle and his surroundings faded, as they always did.
But before he could fall under completely, a hand closed over his mouth and an arm wrapped around of his waist. As he was yanked backward, he felt his power fail and everything went black.
---
When Nokoru glanced in the mirror, he was distressed to realize he had traces of his keyboard imprinted in his cheek. This, of course, was not the best impression to show his classmates, especially when he was turning up for only the second half of school today. And he was seriously contemplating blowing off the rest of the day to finish his research; he was halfway back to his desk as it was. Classes were trivial compared with the wealth of information he'd been allowed access to. His tie slipped through his fingers and coiled on the floor as he slid back into his chair. He only had access for twenty-four hours. School could wait.
The tough part would be convincing his companions, given that they were already worried at/angry with him for attempting to stay up all night. He'd been the only one of the three who'd thought falling asleep at his keyboard was funny. Ah well, he thought absently as he continued reading files. He'd have to look into upgrading their humor programs.
Naturally, he was thrilled to find out that his theory was correct; the information he needed was in the database. His chore currently was sorting through all that data to find specifics. Having so little to draw on as criteria, he was forced to guess at a date and continue down the line until something caught his eye.
And something had. Magami Tokiko had been a biology researcher at CLAMP Campus until very recently. Her personnel file stated that she'd resigned a month before Monou-san had come to him with his persocon problems. With her qualifications, twin degrees in biology and medicine, Nokoru wasn't surprised she'd been re-employed at Monou-san's school so quickly. What did surprise him, however, was that sections of her file had been edited after her resignation. Sections which typically covered things like relations and projects finished while employed were uncharacteristically spare. Noticing the alterations had made Nokoru's fingers itch to pry into the system, but he'd tempered it in the early stages of his investigation. As he continued, the feeling got so bad that he'd worried his fan tassel down into mere threads.
He'd found this precious little information about Magami-san about the time he'd drifted off to the sounds of an insistent beeping sound which he'd later identify as his alarm clock. This afternoon, he planned on seeing where her connections to the persocon projects lay. He didn't doubt the efficiency of whomever was attempting the cover-up, but the chances of missing one file in thousands from almost ten years ago were very high. And all he needed was one file to get more leads.
The door to his office opened and he looked up to see Akira poke his head in. Wide grey eyes surveyed the situation and then turned to an unseen companion with a little grin. "I told you," he giggled, and stepped fully into the room, carrying a small lunch tray. Predictably, Suoh followed close behind; the sterner of his two companions favored him with a reproving glance but said nothing. Akira set the tray down at Nokoru's elbow. "Have you found anything yet?"
Nokoru set the search to perusing the files as he snatched up a half of the sandwich in a way that might have been undignified, had he been anyone else. "Not yet," he replied around a mouthful of egg and lettuce. "But it's only a matter of time, ne?"
Suoh deposited a stack of papers on his desk. "If you have time, Kaichou," was the usual accompaniment. As usual, Nokoru ignored them; he'd get around to them when things had calmed down enough for them to be important. "I've emailed your teachers and requested your homework."
Even computer-enhanced reflexes failed to predict the emergence of the fan, complete with "THANK YOU" in large red characters. Suoh made a face and Akira laughed and began straightening up the office, starting with the tie laying forgotten on the floor.
Nokoru's lunch disappeared amid companionable silence, and Nokoru stood at his window and looked out on the bustling crowds of students as they moved from class to class. He singled out members of his own grade by their uniforms, watching clusters of smartly pressed jackets and fluffy white bows move under the window, children chatting animatedly as they showed off new pencil cases or bag accessories that sparkled and dangled from shoulder straps. He stepped back from the glass, further into shadow, as one student glanced up in the direction of his office.
"Kaichou?"
He was saved from having to answer Suoh's question by the computer, which called attention to the end of the search with a smart little chime. Momentarily distracted from the window, Nokoru sat down heavily to examine the findings. As he'd hoped, some of the terms had matched, and the list was short. Position paper… request for materials… research proposal… "Well, I'll be…"
He sat up a little straighter as he read over the last few files, his eyes widening as he found exactly what he was looking for. His expectations, however, had been quite different.
"Suoh, please call Monou-san." The fan opened and closed impatiently as he opened another file. "I need to speak to him as soon as possible."
---
Sorata had tried to call him twice. First, because without his persocon, he'd overslept and missed school. Second, because he'd spoken to Kotori and wanted to put in his opinion on the matter. Fuuma had hung up on him both times without speaking to him. Childish, naturally; but the oldest Monou child did so out of anger and caution. As much as he didn't want to talk to Sorata, he didn't want to say anything he might regret later. He already felt guilty over what had passed between him and his sister. He didn't need both members of the couple hating him.
Sighing loudly, he peered up at the gloomy grey sky; the snow-heavy clouds drifted lazily, targeting the ideal spot upon which to release their flurries. Aside from that short snowfall, the past twenty-four hours had been something of a disaster. The path to amends with all parties started with Kamui, who would be the easiest to placate.
As he rounded a corner, on the way to the flower shop, Arashi tugged on his scarf. "You have a call from Nokoru-san," she intoned, just loud enough for him to hear. He'd been relieved to find that the shouting-into-the-ear announcements were reserved for Sorata alone. When he nodded, her eyes glazed over and her prim voice was replaced by a higher, boyish one.
"Monou-san?"
Fuuma paused to arrange Arashi in his hand. "Afternoon, Imonoyama-san," he replied, his interest piqued. The boy may have been friends with Sorata, but he didn't seem to regard Fuuma in the same way and so only called when something important happened. "What's up?"
The boy seemed to hesitate on the other end of the line. Odd. "I've found some more information about Kamui-san," the tinny voice said. "When would you be able to meet me?"
"This afternoon'll be okay, I think." He thought over his schedule for the day; ignoring the small voice that was plainly unhappy that he was so quick to do things when it came to Kamui. Of course he was interested in the information, but the immediacy was more because of Nokoru. The boy genius was probably really busy, no need to make him wait forever for him, of all people.
"Wonderful," the relief in Nokoru's voice was palpable. "There's a delightful coffee shop on campus, not far from my home. Shall we say, three o'clock?"
Fuuma stopped in front of the flower shop doors, nodding though the other couldn't see it. "Sounds good, Imonoyama-san," he said distractedly, looking around for Kamui and, somewhat less expectantly, for Kusanagi-san. "I'll see you at three."
After the line cut, he placed Arashi back on his shoulder, heading into the shop. As he crossed the threshold, the bell above the door jingled. "Hello?"
His voice and the bell brought the shop owner hurrying out of the back. "Monou-kun," he greeted, looking a bit worried. Fuuma cringed, thinking of the bizarre events of yesterday. No doubt Kusanagi-san was as uncomfortable as he. "Is Kamui-kun with you?"
Fuuma's mouth hung open, mid-utterance, as his brain processed the unexpected question. "Huh?"
The much bigger man emerged from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a towel that hung from his shop apron. "Kamui-kun didn't come in to work today," he elaborated. "I was starting to get worried."
"Kamui isn't here?" Fuuma asked dumbly, before realizing how much of an idiot he sounded. "Father said he left this morning, same as usual." His brain had begun running through possibilities. Kamui hadn't wandered off by himself in weeks; the persocon knew better at this point than to go anywhere without permission. Having discounted that, more sinister scenarios began to battle for attention.
Kusanagi-san must have read the beginnings of worry in his expression, as he took off his apron and hung it over the counter. "Let me close up quickly, and we'll go look for him."
Ten minutes later, they were combing the streets; they poked into various shops on the route from the Tokagushi Shrine to Earth's Gifts, asking if any of the shop owners had seen a persocon of Kamui's description. The closer they came to the shrine, the clearer the picture became. Some of the shop owners recalled Kamui passing by, but hadn't noticed anything strange.
"It's like he just disappeared," Kusanagi-san mused as they stopped to grab a can of coffee from a vending machine. He noticed the grimace on his companion's face and immediately offered an apology.
Fuuma turned the hot can over in his hands, warming them and thinking. He asked Arashi to call Imonoyama-san. He sketched a brief summary of their problem, though he didn't expect much help. They weren't much further from square one than they'd been more than an hour ago. The boy promised to try and locate Kamui from his end, and would call if he knew anything.
When he finally cracked open the coffee, he noticed Kusanagi-san watching him carefully. He raised an eyebrow in question.
"You care a lot about Kamui-kun, don't you?" Came the response, surprising him a little. What surprised him more, however, was the surge of hostility that came so quickly. Was he being judged? And what did he mean by "care" anyway? Again, being more perceptive than he gave the older man credit for, Kusanagi-san appeared apologetic. "They tend to grow on you, after a while." He said quietly. "Always underfoot, trying to help and if they don't do anything else, they still manage to cheer you up."
Slowly, Fuuma realized that Kusanagi wasn't talking exclusively about Kamui. On some level, it stung and disturbed, but the fond expression on the older man's face somehow tempered both. "You're talking about Yuzuriha-chan," he asked, though the answer was pretty clear.
Kusanagi-san's smile was wry. "It's not what you're thinking, Monou-kun."
Fuuma had the good grace to look abashed. "Oh?"
"Yuzuriha-chan's a good girl," the flower shop owner said, tipping the remainder of his coffee down his throat before tossing out the can. "She's sweet and thoughtful and I couldn't deal with her being sad."
"Do you like her like she likes you?" It was really odd, he thought, gossiping with his persocon's boss, who happened to be somewhat involved with his boss' granddaughter.
The older man's smile spoke volumes, running the gamut between affirmation and denial. "Not exactly, Monou-kun," he allowed. "She's a good kid and she acts a lot older than she looks... but she's still a little girl." He glanced at Fuuma and chuckled a bit. "With a taste for older men."
Fuuma started to protest, until he thought about it and realized that the other had a point. He shook his head, bemused. "She's going to give her grandmother a heart attack one day."
"That she will," Kusanagi answered readily, checking his watch. "I have to get back to the shop." The levity faded, leaving them with the situation that had brought them together. "Will you be all right on your own?"
Glancing around, Fuuma nodded. "I'll keep looking. He has to be around somewhere."
As the older man turned and headed back the way they came, Fuuma sincerely wished he felt as confident as he'd sounded.
---
The soft whirr of computers, somewhere nearby, was the first sound Kamui heard as he came back to the waking world. Blinking slowly, out of habit more than necessity, he climbed to a sitting position and looked around.
He had been curled up on a large bed in the middle of a sterile, white room. A window at his right brought in little light from outside; the darkening sky full of clouds. This wasn't Fuuma's room, nor the Monou living room, and definitely not the flower shop. It was safe to be said that he had no idea where he was. "Where...?"
"You're in my mistress' house."
Startled, Kamui looked around. He wasn't as alone as he'd thought, apparently. "Where?"
"Right here!"
Kamui followed the voice, his gaze focusing on a small mobile persocon standing on the bedside table. Curious, he crawled over, lowering his face so they were eye-to-bespecled eye. The persocon appeared slightly annoyed at his ignorance, and she crossed her arms over her chest after adjusting her black-rimmed glasses. Kamui tilted his head to one side. "Your name?"
The persocon straightened proudly. "Satsuki," she said. "And yours?"
"Kamui," he answered, smiling.
Satsuki's eyes widened a little, then she puzzled over that for a moment. "So you're the one she keeps talking about."
He was about to ask her what she meant, when the sound of a door opening caught his attention. Turning and straightening, he watched as a tall, very pretty woman sauntered into the room. She was easily the prettiest woman he'd ever seen; not that Kotori and Tokiko weren't beautiful, but this was different. Long, slightly curly hair tumbled down to swaying hips, framing a pale, sensual face.
She looked like some of those women in Fuuma's magazines, Kamui thought.
"Good evening, Kamui," she drawled, coming to a stop at the side of the bed closest to him. "I'm glad to see you're awake." Before he could ask her any questions, long fingers with vivid red nails circled around his chin and tilted his head back. Whatever served as his heart began to beat faster as his mind told him the appropriate reaction was panic. The look in her eyes was pure predator.
"My name is Kanoe," she purred, threading her other hand through his hair; a strangely gentle motion that didn't seem to fit. He closed his eyes and attempted to turn away, and after a moment, she let him go. She smoothed his bangs and turned to leave. "Make yourself comfortable, Kamui," she said over her shoulder.
"I'm going to learn all your secrets."
---
I'm sorry about the wait, everyone! Things are starting to pick up in the fic, so it shouldn't be much longer before the finish. This chapter donned the exposition sombrero and I apologize if anyone thought it was boring. Thank you all for reviewing, I'm glad you enjoyed it! :D
Next Chapter: /Kamui/ puts in an appearance, Subaru and Seishirou come closer to finding what they're looking for, and Fuuma hears two things he never expected.