Hello! to Sueona, Jollyolly, Princess Sin, Chazmy, Morality and Hickok. I really appreciate your encouragements and reviews. I hope you will continue to enjoy reading this story.

Love and darkness
Part Sixteen

Chapter One
The heavy crown: sibling mercies

The cordial smile on the emperor's face faded after Enma's form dissipated and vanished. His fists came crashing down on the table, causing the cups upon it to leap into the air and break when they fell, the remainder of the tea they held pooling and spilling to the floor.

The figure of the prince royal loomed at the window, his eyes panning over fondly at the distant lands beyond the palace boundaries, lush foliage and grasslands dressed in streaks of greens and yellows, dazzling beneath the kissing rays of the seven suns. The gentle wind felt chilled against his face and neck, much too cold, and he shivered…

Not the sultry breeze of the heavens this… is the chill portentous…? Kin and ancestors, all you who have merged with the elements of the realm, do you sense some great sorrow approaching…? I pray not… let it not be so…

"Why are you silent, nii-sama? Why do you stand there sighing?"

His brother's voice was laced with acid, heralding the bitter storm of ire.

Eijisho Shimahara sighed and closed his eyes, preparing himself. Flicking a switch in his mind, he erected it: a sound and energy barrier that would absorb the ruckus that would ensue in this chamber – his brother's heartbreaking ravings.

O-Ran tore his hot eyes from the chair where Enma had sat, to seek out his brother's when Eiji turned to face him.

"What is it you want me to say, Omayuwa-Ran? Will my words quell the tempests in your heart?"

I am useless to you… all I can do is stand here and watch you… scream silently while you tear yourself apart…

All restraints on his frustration and fury snapping, the emperor leapt to his feet. His instantaneous movement towards his elder sibling, undetectable to the eye, gave rise to a small twister, the gusts of it toppling all the furniture in the room, whipping Eiji's hair and clothes about. Violent hands grabbed the front edges of Eiji'shaori as his sad eyes met the rage in sparking azure.

'This is all I can do… be the rock that will not erode from your lashing tidal waves…
be the one you fall against when you crumble… be the arms that will hold you upright…'

"Tell me! What would you have done in my place?! Would you have given in to Isao's pleas, his tears, if he were your beloved child?! Answer me!"

Eijisho did not flinch, his body did not move nor yield to his brother's fists; he remained firmly rooted to where he stood. A mortal being would not have prevailed against the emperor's assault but would have been pulverized. He was a mountain, immovable, feeling no pain from the slamming fists, their impacts as ineffectual as the brushes of the gossamer wings of fireflies.

"Say something! Speak! Even if they are words of contempt! Berate me! Say it! Say it was entirely my fault! Say I am an unfit emperor…!"

The force of the emperor's pummeling fists increased. Disregarding the onset of pricks of pain shooting through his chest, Eiji kept his eyes trained on his brother's.

"Damn you… you… everyone loves you… Eijisho, not a care to weigh down your heart… my brother, the learned, charming prankster!"

He roared, aimed a vengeful punch on the place where his brother's heart lay, blinded by his angry tears and hurtful memories…

I, a child, shackled to a throne… bored out of my wits, sitting with the bearing befitting a king… stifling yawns at endless ceremonies and receptions, suffering the ceaseless droning of the elders' and viziers' voices at governance assemblies… bound by duty, duty, duty… yearning to throw off that thing on my head and my uncomfortable vestments and gallop free, howl my head off, reclaim my childhood… burning with jealousy when I came upon you, Midori, Masato and Hatate, huddled together in a happy group, conspiring with secret plans to embark on a late night excursion – swimming in Akatsuki Lake… the four of you, breaking off your excited whispering when you saw me, to bow before your emperor… wanting to scream… I was so lonely… I wanted to be touched, embraced and kissed by all of you, like you used to do… I wanted to go with all of you…

"I despise you…!"

A knee buckling from the jarring of his heart from O-Ran's cruel blow, Eiji bit his lip and straightened…

'… listen, above and beyond his angry voice…'

… … …

"Where are you going, Eijisho?"

"To the Ibaragi plains, to see the Gourds…"

"Ah… the gourds… are you going alone?"

"No, Father. Masato Mikoto will take me there, on Toshimaru's back. He says the gourds have swelled to ripeness. We may even witness the birthing of some of Brother's enforcers… there's a red one that has grown huge… Masato says this gourd will give forth the enforcer that will lead the rest."

"Very well. Do not engage in any mischief, as you are prone to do…"

"I won't, Father."

"Be back in time for the evening meal with the family."

"Yes, Father."

Father grasped my arm as I turned, went down on one knee and held my shoulders.

"Eijisho… in seven days, your younger brother will be enthroned. He is yet bewildered and cannot fully comprehend the enormity of the burden of being emperor… how can he? He is yet so young… at this moment, he is throwing a tantrum, wanting to be free from his confinement and the rigors of kingly instruction." Father heaved a great sigh. "You are glad, are you not?"

"Father…?"

"Glad it was not your name the Oracle's hand fell upon…"

"I…" I could not meet Father's eyes.

"Don't be ashamed. I understand. I too… was glad… that Junko's hand bypassed my name."

I sighed in turn, with relief.

"You will retain your freedom, and all the time to be carefree, without the constraints of being Emperor and all the responsibilities that come with wearing the crown. You will be able to do and pursue all you wish to… but, your brother…

"I have a request of you, my son Eijisho. Save a part of yourself for your brother. Let your heart become vast and strong… be his rock, the rock he can cleave to when it all becomes unbearable…"

"I will try, Father…" I bit my lip. "But… of late, his eyes have grown dark towards me…"

"Yes, I have seen them… they are the eyes of envy… forgive him…"

"I think he hates me… his words have become cold…"

"No… look behind his eyes… listen, over and beyond his angry voice… and you will find it, the love he feels for you… do this, for me and for your mother."

"I will, Father. I will be his rock…"

On the morning of O-Ran's coronation – the rays of the seven suns bathed the realm in gold; though not in season, zakura in the palace gardens had put forth their blossoms overnight – euphoria filled the heavens.

After he was dressed in his kingly vestments and regalia by the royal courtiers, O-Ran called for me, Mother and Father. He astounded us, not only with his blinding radiance, but also with his heartfelt apologies to us all for his belligerent behavior during the weeks preceding his enthronement. One by one, we were embraced tightly and kissed.

At the tender age of nine, he had seemingly come to terms with his circumstances.

Led away from us by fussing courtiers, the three of us, so deeply moved, stared after him, at the boy whose childhood would become a thing of the past the instant the Oracle placed the crown of the emperor upon his youthful, silver head.

Legions of deities, their families and vassals packed the immense courtyard beyond the throne hall, their excited clamoring swelling in anticipation of their first sighting of the newly-crowned boy-emperor.

Standing on the balcony and waving, he captured the hearts of all with his shy, charming smiles. It was a child's voice that declared, "Greetings to you all. I am O-Ran the First, your new King. I will do my best, to serve you and to be a just ruler, worthy of wearing this crown…"

I was stunned, not only by his quiet grace and regality, but also by the fact that he had chosen the pet name that I had given him! With proud and happy, moist eyes, Mother and Father looked at me and beamed.

The cheers of his surging subjects were deafening when he cast aside kingly decorum, much to the mortification of his aides and courtiers, and leapt from the palanquin that carried him into the courtyard, to plunge among them and grasp as many reaching hands as he could, happily accepting kisses and posies from ecstatic little girl-children.

Outside the palace gates, contingents of his enforcers waited, these beings whose wombs had been the great gourds that had sprung from the ground the instant Junko brandished the scroll that bore his name, dotting the Ibaragi Plains of the north. Although they stood at stiff and solemn attention, their eagerness for their sovereign's arrival and inspection was palpable to all.

The crowds roared again when O-Ran's delicate little hands took hold of Nagi's large ones, pulling his general to his feet after he dropped to one knee and swore his obeisance.

"Come forth!" cried Nagi, lifting his head to the firmament, "honored beast that will bear the celestial emperor on your back!"

We heard the sound of rumbling thunder and the roar of crackling fire, and searched the skies, wondering with excitement what form this beast would take, and then we saw it and gasped. Bellowing and breathing out fire, it approached, a majestic white dragon, fearsome, its long body meandering as it descended. My brother was jumping up and down with glee until Nagi managed to calm him. Instinctively, the beast submissively sought out O-Ran, lowering its gigantic head at his feet, allowing him to touch and pet it as he declared its name to be Yukihime – indeed the beast was a female. Everyone was thrilled; many murmured approvingly that it was truly a favorable omen, for never before had a dragon carried an emperor or queen. Fearlessly, his eyes shining, my little brother climbed atop its neck with Nagi's assistance. Mother was fretting and yelling, "Omayuwa-Ran! Hold on tight, don't fall off!" Hatate was sighing and wistfully proclaiming how brave he was, while Masato snickered, nudged me in the ribs and teased his sister, receiving her head-butt in his ribs for his efforts. A hundred enforcers followed, with Nagi leading them as the dragon soared upwards to begin its journey through the entire realm, so everyone could see their emperor, the monarch they had long waited for…

For twenty celestial cycles, the throne had remained vacant, after the collapse of the Iwako dynasty, brought down, not by overthrow from rebellion, but by blind parental love…

O-Ran and I had been told of the events that took place before we were born, by Father…

When the dust finally settled in the aftermath of that debacle, the council of elders, faced by the Oracle's lassitude and consecutive refusals to choose a sovereign, they selected three among them to jointly rule the kingdom…

Until it finally came to pass: Junko Moriyama, Oracle and maker of monarchs for millennia, bi-gendered in personality and physical endowments, collapsed one evening while playing a game of charades. She – the feminine pronoun is used because her upper form has the appearance of a woman, although her voice is distinctly that of a man – was laid on her bed. There, she began her throes, writhing, convulsing, and moaning as if suffering labor pains, unmistakable signs indicating that she was in the first stage of her trance of choosing a sovereign. The elders and official witnesses were summoned, to wait and listen at her bedside. One by one, she shrieked forth names, an interval of days passing between each utterance…

Kikuya… Mikoto… Hitagawa… Shimahara… Sagami… Mukojima… Ueda…

After she cried out the last of the seven names of princely families, her body became still. Exhausted, she fell into deep slumber for three days. Upon waking, she was ravenous and consumed a great quantity of food.

In her hall of divination, all the names of the members of each family, written on scrolls, were laid out in a circle. Several times, Junko stood within this circle, but did not slip into trance. A further ten days passed.

From the moment the announcement of which families had been chosen until that momentous day, when Junko finally succumbed to deep trance within the circle of names, we waited with fluttering hearts. In her trance, Junko danced and spun like a dervish, while the three elders watched her closely. Each time she crouched to pass her hands over the scrolls, they and all the witnesses surged forward. Numerous times, it seemed as though she would divine who would sit on the throne, her hand hovering over one or another name, only to withdraw and resume her whirling dance…

We scarcely believed our eyes when we heard and saw them: the cacophony of drums, trumpets and tambourines, the riotous colors of the garments of dancing maidens, following in the wake of the musicians. Behind them, courtiers of the Oracle, four of them hefting a sedan chair in which sat Junko, wound their way down the hill toward our gates. A crowd of deities and their clansmen, intent on joining in the merriment, added to the din and excitement. The three elders who jointly ruled as interim regents fronted this joyful procession, two bearing banners that bore the Shimahara crests; the third held the official scroll, the words on which proclaimed my brother the emperor…

… … …

The emperor was weeping and beginning to totter. The massive form before him put out its arms to draw him into its embrace, hands clasping his head and pressing it against its chest…

"I despise you… despise you…" he whispered, even as his arms reached around Eiji's neck, pulling down his leonine head, hands tangling in thick, yellow hair, desperate and hungry for comfort, nestling his face into the cradle between strong shoulder and neck. Exhausted, he felt the ebbing of his wrath and countless kisses placed on his face, heard his brother's tender murmurings, verbal ointments to his battered soul…

'How is it possible… for these arms, for these lips… to hold and kiss me with such love… after my hateful actions and words?'

'Because I love you… ah, the heart of O-Ran is not capable of hate… you love me, you love us all, kin, subjects and mortals…'

'Yes… I adore you… as much as, if not more, than my beloved Isao adores you…'

'If it had been possible, I would have wrenched this crown from your head and placed it on mine, to spare you its burden…'

'Nii-sama…'

Eiji looked fondly at the face, with all its melancholic beauty, the face of an emperor torn apart – by his love and by his sense of duty, an emperor ravaged by the constant onslaught of having to make cruel choices, of having to suppress his true desires – to bestow untold joy, casting aside his desire to uphold the tenets of a just king.

Prepared for and expecting his brother's swoon, he scooped up his limp form. Making his way down corridors lined by courtiers with bowed heads, he entered the bedchamber. With eye signals, he sent away the anxious royal attendants who had trailed him and tended to O-Ran on his own, placing swathes of cloth dipped in water infused with eucalyptus oil and crushed mint leaves to cool his burning brow.

Revived, O-Ran's trembling head sought his brother's lap, sighing from the touch of fingers combing though his hair.

'What did Isao ask of you?'

'He wanted me to command Nagi… to snatch them both, bring them here… such a simple, straightforward request when you think about it… it would be so easy… and yet I… he told me that the sound of Kazutaka's heartbeat has grown a lot stronger since a few days ago… this could mean that his immortal abilities may have strengthened…'

'Has Sanae said anything to you… concerning Oriya?'

O-Ran shook his head miserably, burrowed his face in the folds of Eiji's robes.

'No… she never speaks, has never spoken… about her child to me… not since that day… she confides only in Masato and Hatate… even when we learned from Masato that Oriya had been rescued by the Shinigami and was in their care, she did not come to me, did not make any request of me… I found her, suffering quietly, undertaking her duties stoically, and sent her to him with my amulet, a twin of this one…'

He fingered the shapeless object dangling from a chain around his neck.

Eiji sighed heavily.

'I wonder if Masato feels his child's heartbeat… he's never mentioned it to me…'

His brother's muffled moan disturbed Eiji.

'Ahh… that child… that one… is a deeply troubled youngster… with enough hurt in him to trigger a weapon of mass destruction…'

'Yet he appears so… adorably insouciant…'

'Yes, Enma has given me… what our associates in Hades call a "dossier" on him… he needs only to be pushed over the edge to let loose the powers he voluntarily sealed within himself, according to Enma… although sealed, small amounts of it tend to escape without his volition whenever Asato becomes upset, and Enma is troubled by the fact that his powers are untrained, uncontrollable… unlike Kazutaka's, from what I have heard. Untamed or not, they could prove just as deadly… dear great ancestors! Why has it all turned out like this…?'

'Shh, don't…'

'Fate… you capricious power, you cruel lord whom we cannot see nor touch… you rule over us all… twisting, twisting, just to torment me…'

'Stop… don't…'

'What will you do, eh, Fate, if I shake my fist in your laughing face? One word from me and Nagi would… just like that, it would be done… just like that, I could restore happiness to Isao's face and heart… bring back Hatate's smiles… deaden once and for all, the ache in Sanae's… and Masato's… hearts… ah! And, what about all those others… earth and heaven born… mine, all mine… I let them go… how many of them are yet living? I turned my back on them… I am unfit…'

'No more, Omayuwa-Ran, no more… there is enough pain in you. If you release it, it will cover our world and the mortal Earth in darkness and ice… I will not sit by and watch you punish yourself further. Since that sorrowful time, everyone has come to understand and accept your actions, that your grief and sacrifices were no less than theirs, and that you are truly a just king. What was done was done… you contained it, halted the producing of more hybrids… the world of the mortals is theirs, theirs to manage, their lives theirs to control, without our misguided, albeit well-intentioned desires… our ideals are too simplistic, unsuited for their reality… the abundance of love which is inherent in our natures clouded our better judgment and led us astray. Alas, as our emperor, you had to do the dirty work and clean up after us… I remember what you said, after Father recounted the facts of the Iwako dynasty's downfall to us. You were seven, I was ten. He asked us what we would have done in Oshiro Iwako's place, what his mistakes were. I could not answer, remember? I have never forgotten the expression on your little face… solemn and wise… only seven years old, you calmly declared, "It is clear that the emperor's willful disregard of the Oracle's pronouncements was a grievous error. His love for his child consumed him, and compromised his judgment, ultimately undermining his kingly oaths." Father was quiet for a while, nodding grimly. But I could see how pleased and proud he was of you. You continued, "A difficult dilemma – to follow one's desires, driven by love, or to decide for the good of the whole realm and the world of the mortals. How unfortunate that Emperor Oshiro's blind love brought calamity." I was in awe of you then, as I am now, little brother. The day Junko chose you was not the day you became emperor… you were an emperor the moment you were conceived.'

O-Ran sat up and flung himself against his rock.

'Remain with me, today and tonight… I don't want to be alone… let me hold fast to you… hold fast to me…'

'I will stay here with you until Hatate returns…'

'She will not return so soon… she will remain at Isao's side… the pining sickness has come upon him… go to him tomorrow, nii-sama. He will have need of your comfort…'

'I will, and will do what I can… lie back, rest… you are worn out from anguish… you are yourself, ill with pining…'

Lying beside his brother, Eiji drew his shaking body close.

When the shaking ends, the battle will come to an end as well… who will emerge triumphant? The father, husband, grandfather, brother-in-law, uncle, and loving emperor, or… the just king?

Holding on firmly to the fitful form, he was swallowed by a memory of the day O-Ran had in fact given in to his desires…

Because of mine…

… … … (Eiji's flashback begins)

The both of us, and Gintaro, consort of my sister Midori, at a feast of celebration… Hatate hovering and fussing at Midori's side, my newborn niece cradled in my sister's arms… the girl-child, Sanae, enthralling the empress. When Midori placed the infant in her arms, the empress was beside herself with joy…

O-Ran led me into the gardens…

"Do you recall the game we played, nii-sama, the day before I left for the palace, to begin my cloistering?"

Sunk in my own thoughts, I struggled to come out of them.

"Ah… let me see… we went cloud-leaping, didn't we? Hatate won that particular contest, didn't she, reaching Mount Korakyu first?"

O-Ran nodded. "Let's have a contest now, you and me. Will you indulge me?"

"O-of course…"

Floating down to the summit of Korakyu, where a grinning O-Ran stood, I yelled, "No fair! You cheated! You didn't even wait for an 'on you mark' signal…"

"Oh, pish! You could have effortlessly overtaken me. Your heart just wasn't in it, brother…"

I could not respond to his astute observation, but stood silently. He approached me, hugged me, laying his head on my shoulder.

"Who is it, Eijisho? Who has snagged your heart?"

"Wha-whatever do you mean?"

"No feigning." His face was much too serious for my liking. "Who is squeezing your heart? It is all too clear to me that you are under an enchantment… and are sick with love."

Yet tongue-tied, I pulled away.

"You leave me with no other choice. Since you will not tell me, brother to brother… I command you, as the emperor, to speak."

And thus, I told him, while he gazed at the winking stars.

When my stammered disclosures came to an end, he reached for me again, pulled me close, those blue eyes beginning to put forth water, and I was struck with shame, wrenched myself from his hold to quake. The utterance of my beloved's name to my brother had saturated me with a titanic desire for that mortal scholar I had fallen in love with. Truly, as my brother had discerned, I was crazed with love.

"There are so many among us who desire you… will none of them…?"

"No!"

"You want only this… mortal man?"

On my knees now, weak and gasping, a slave to my want. "Yes… yes… I want only him."

When I gained control of myself, I looked up to find myself alone. I interpreted my brother's sudden disappearance to mean he had abandoned me, and that I had fallen from his grace. Confused and dejected, I confined myself to my chambers and waited for him to summon me and pronounce his censure upon me.

Three days later, I stumbled from my divan where I had lain in lovesick torpor, to hurriedly dress when my attendant tapped on my door, announcing with urgency that the emperor was in my hall.

I prepared myself for the worst and bore the initial span of silence between us, not daring to speak. But no rebuke came from his mouth…

"Lift your head… look at me," he whispered.

When our eyes met, he said, "I am not angry with you. I am happy for you. Go to him. Court him and bring him to me. I will give him immortality."

From that night, when I confessed my enthrallment with a mortal being to O-Ran up to this instance, I had been so thoroughly selfish, bent on fulfilling my own needs, immersed in my longings.

After my brother's words sunk in to my brain, I became elated, like a child who had emerged the victor after bullying and coercing a loving parent with stamping feet, tears and wails. I began rapturously laying out plans in my mind – I pictured myself, arrayed in my finest raiment, appearing before Fumio, could almost feel him falling against me, into my arms, dazed from the smother of my kisses…

Into the line of my sight where only Fumio's face floated, stepped O-Ran's feet, encased in shoes of soft brocade cloth. Lifting my eyes, I saw his arms, spread wide…

"Receive my congratulatory kiss and embrace, nii-sama. Then, allow me to help you dress, as your groomsman."

It was then I looked at his face, really looked… only then did I fully grasp the suffering he had endured. The sight of his wan, tired face gave me a moment's respite from my lovesickness, cooling the fever it burned me with.

Before me was a king who had recently shared his anxiety with me, over Nagi's reports of romantic dalliances between deities and mortal beings. Distressed by the thought of having to summon the culprits and order them to sever these relationships, he had shuffled his feet, desisting, when in fact, these illicit liaisons were against the laws of our realm and O-Ran's enforcement of the corresponding punishments were within his kingly rights.

And there I was…!

And he, out of love for me, had given me his consent!

"You… would do this… for me?"

"I love you, and want only for you to be happy…"

The feeling of something breaking inside me… my heart seemed to struggle in its efforts to keep beating…

"No… I cannot let you…"

Breaking down, falling apart, gasping, for it was impossible to breathe… weeping, with shame and self-loathing… begging for his forgiveness which he gave me so generously, in a voice which was as wretched and broken as mine, sorrowing all the while, his heart breaking along with mine, because I could not consummate my love and turn all my dreams into reality… drowning in a sense of deep, deep loss… my brother's arms pulling me out of that dark place…

Thenceforth, Fumio Ikeda came to reside, not beside me, but inside my heart…

… … … (end of Eiji's flashback)

Finally, the emperor's body lay still… the tears streaming from glazed, cerulean eyes told Eiji that the Just King had won the battle.

'All our hopes ride upon your Shinigami now, King Enma of Hades…

'What will you do, child of Isao? Do you seek Oriya out of love? Have you come back to yourself, or are you still under the sway of that aberrant spawn, that fallen god of the Iwako bloodline?

'Will Hirose Iwako and his vengeful wrath swallow you both?

'Another skeleton in the closets of the gods… come back to haunt us…

'Precious princes of the Shimahara bloodline, please, don't resist and slip through Enma's net… Come closer, just a little closer to us…

'Fate, please… don't destroy our hearts for sport… please…'

In his arms, O-Ran stirred and whimpered like a child caught in the grip of a nightmare…

Chapter Two
Face-off

Gazing at the names on the pair of headstones, he lost himself in remembrances of them…

(Flashback begins)
The swarthy, leathery complexion of a face, prematurely lined, tanned by the heat of the kilns in which his father fired his pottery…

Whenever I came home from school, I would seek him out, to be caught up in his arms and lifted… I loved the sound of his laughter…

I was sixteen then… that day, helping him stack a batch of pottery on the cooling racks…

At dinner that evening, he was unusually quiet. Smiling affectionately at Mother, he said he would retire for bed early…

'How tall you've grown,' he said, his hand reaching up to ruffle my hair, 'it is impossible for me to throw you up in the air now, musuko!' He laughed softly, his eyes distant, drawn into the nostalgia of the past. I remember thinking: how frail you look, dearest Father. He looked small enough for me to heft in my arms, the way he used to do to me, when I was little. I hugged him close. I had no idea then, how thankful I was to be later for having demonstrated that act of affection towards him.

He held on to me for support as we stepped into my parents' small bedroom. 'I would have liked to stroll down to the riverside with you tonight, but… I'm much too tired for that… sing me to sleep, musuko…'

I kissed his forehead after his eyes stopped watching me playing my koto and gave in to sleep.

Those eyes never opened again…

Falling asleep, waking… to the whirring and thudding sounds of the wheel and foot pedal of your sewing machine, while you labored ceaselessly with the dimming sight of one eye, your other completely lost to glaucoma…

I wanted to quit school to work full-time, but you wouldn't hear of it. For two more years, you toiled so I could finish high school, before you followed Father…

The day I was orphaned…

Finding you, so small and fragile, collapsed over the earthen vat made by Father's hands, cup still in your hand, rice grains spilled to the floor… your fingers, reaching up to wipe away my tears… 'Come closer, so that I may see your face…'

Long buried and forgotten by the torment of his love for Kazutaka, the memory of Okime Mibu's last words, spoken in her voice, rang out in his mind. In his young, grieving state, he hadn't considered them seriously then…

"Wondrous child who filled my life with so much joy… I thank her, she who honored Nakatsu and me… She knew… my time was near, and revealed her face to me in a dream last night… someday, you will see her and know the truth of who you are… she wanted me to tell you… you are the light that will burn… and guide the one you love back to the path of his destiny… by fulfilling this destiny, you will fulfill your own… your path will be hard, but you will endure… because your heart is a sword and shield, forged for him, he who will be called by many names…"

(Flashback ends)

Okime's voice faded, to the sounds of footfalls, and the beating of a heart; these were deafening, as though harbingers of the approach of a creature of gargantuan proportions. Slowly he turned his head, and saw him, not a giant, but a man, a man who shone like a small sun, distorting the landscape behind and around him, slowed the wheels of time. His footfalls matched the cadence of the thundering thuds.

'A mirage, an oasis to my thirsting heart… you, who bound my heart with your chains…'

The form seemed far away, but Oriya Mibu's eyes locked on to the heart-stopping visage; his beauty was frightening, otherworldly, inducing shivers in Oriya's body as he rose to his feet unsteadily.

As soon as he straightened, Kazutaka was right there, in front of him. He stared in amazement at the face that no longer bore the mark of a murderer. The scar tissue around the cavity that had held that oversized glass eye was smoothened to perfection. Spellbound, he began counting the fine, flaxen eyelashes around the newborn eye.

'What are you… who are you…? Why do I feel… this need to fall at your feet and swear my allegiance…? Ah, Yutaka… I'm so sorry… I love you… but this man before me now owns my heart… forgive me, Yutaka… Are your thoughts tinged with hurt and anger as you watch me?'

When he focused on silver eyes heavy with shame and sorrow, glimmering with tears, Oriya turned away, unable to bear the remembrances those eyes brought, and sat back down on the heels of his boots. Numbly, he continued placing his offerings, floral tributes at the foot of the headstones, his sight shifting to the hand placing a joss stick in the urn…

Kazutaka Muraki stared at the white hands resting on Oriya's lap and remembered…

'Those hands had cut these headstones, smoothened them… carved their names upon them… twice, they had been blistered and cut… he would not let me help him… only after he finished his tasks, did he consent to let me treat the wounds on his hands…'

Impulsively, he moved his hand, fingers pushing aside the hair shielding Oriya's face, letting the sheaf of dark silken threads fall behind his shoulder, so he could see the profile of this man, the wholesome son, the adored son of the man and woman whose remains lay in the earth beneath the headstones.

When he realized what he had done, he withdrew his hand from the curve of Oriya's shoulder, ashamed…

'The good son, the good man… tarnished by me, by the sin that is me…
You could have… should have… flinched… pulled away from my touch! You shame me, Orimi… How can I even begin to express my regret…? I dragged you along, used your love for me… led you astray… how can you ever forgive me…?'

The instant Kazutaka's fingers touched him, the amulet Oriya wore took on a warmth, heating the skin on his chest, caressing it, making it zing, like it was a living thing that possessed minute stroking fingers. His inner vision opened; through a doorway, he saw light, impossibly brilliant. If he had been looking at it directly, surely he would be struck blind, he thought. He caught a glimpse of buttery yellow hair and limpid green eyes, eyes that made him want to weep, not with sadness, but with joy. That face seemed so close to him, nostalgic and heartwarming, but the quivering, down-turned mouth broke his heart. He felt he was being cuddled and kissed, his body being infused with love. He heard a rush of whispers…

"Precious princes… come closer… fate… don't destroy our hearts for sport… long, too long have you been gone from the land of your birth, child of Sanae… beautiful little cherub who chirruped and smiled in my arms… come home… bring your beloved with you… many are the arms that ache to embrace you both, many are the lips that long to kiss you…"

Oriya's heart pounded, pumping his blood with ferocity, sending it gushing along the network of arteries in his body. This quickening dulled the excruciating craving for the effects of the dark, sticky sap of poppy seeds, and he marveled at this phenomenon. Slowly, he turned his head to face the man beside him and pinned pained, pale eyes…

O-Ran started, and sat up in his bed, alarming his brother. Eiji hands cupped the emperor's face and saw the glaze of blue eyes staring off into space, looking at something or someone that only those eyes could see.

"What is it, O-Ran?"

"I-I… can see him… Kazutaka… they have come together…!"

A voice caressed his mind, wrapped Kazutaka's heart…

'You did not drag me… I followed you willingly… it was my choice to make… there is nothing to forgive…'

'But… I…'

'That part of you no longer exists… you remembered, Kazu, that every year on this day, I would come here… you would come with me, to remember them…'

'Yes… I loved them too… they were very good to me… apart from the proximity of… her… your home was the only other place where I felt I was loved…'

The dark head leaned closer to the silver one. Their foreheads touched, and they shut everything and everyone out of their little piece of heaven, this moment in time that was theirs and theirs alone, cherishing every second of it before it was encroached upon and disturbed by the ones who they knew were watching and waiting…

'You called me "Orimi"… like you used to, before you slipped away and hid yourself in darkness… you clawed your way out of the shroud of darkness… you've come home, at last…'

'Yes… I found my way home… to the light that never dimmed… the light that is you…'

The breath of Oriya's sigh caressed Kazutaka's face, warm and sweet, reminiscent of their shared past, identical to the breaths of contentment and passion, issued with tender words and kisses… evocative, of naked, heated skin and embracing arms, gasping breaths, urgent and fevered… of their intimacies during which the boundaries of their bodies melted away, leaving them merged, welded together, a two headed, eight-limbed creature that shared a single heart…

'No-one had the right to split us apart…'

He moved his mouth to Oriya's ear, sighing into it, empowering his breath with the intensity of thousands of kisses and caresses…

He wanted to tear his eyes from them, from the sight of their intimate propinquity, but Yutaka Watari continued to engage in self-torture by staring at him, at that man who had left his indelible mark on him, branded upon his skin, upon his heart and into the flesh within his body, a place inside of himself that even now still felt the fullness and sensations of having received that thing, that thing that was now concealed between Oriya's legs, that extension of his body, that elongated symbol of his gender. Angrily and irreverently, he wondered if it was growing hard and dripping. He tasted it, that sweet and salty essence of excitement on his tongue.

With hurt and covetous eyes, he noted every nuance, every slight shift of that willowy body responding to the overtures of that man, currently the bane of Watari's existence – Oriya's companion, the ex-lover, the man who was now on the threshold of reclaiming his place in Oriya's life, and, that body. He swallowed the excessive saliva in his mouth and licked his lips when he pinpointed the sweep of an elegant neck as that head lolled with his jealous eyes.

He detested feeling it, but could not stand against it – that dark and dangerous emotion named Jealousy, and before he knew it, he was overrun by it.

When Oriya's lips parted and his eyes closed, in pleasure, obviously, by the nuzzling mouth at his ear, the blond Shinigami was a thoroughly broken man…

He struggled, battled for calm and a clear head, resisting the creeping, insidious takeover by his self-destructive alter ego, but… old patterns are hard to break in the face of despair… before he could stop himself, he sneered mentally, his face twisted into a mask, a time-honored expression of a lover spurned.

'So, this is what you meant when you said 'I love you' over and over… that night, a night I'll never ever forget unless I undergo hypnosis to induce amnesia… I guess you felt sorry for me or suddenly had an attack of a guilty conscience and felt you needed to disguise and candy coat a plain and simple romp… a casual fuck with a fool…'

Although he had no way of knowing it then, that all-encompassing pain that numbed him from scalp to toe at that very moment, a pain he had never before felt, was not the worst kind of pain one could experience…

He would only discover this some time later, when a far worse agony, lethal in that it threatened his very life… when all his bitter and unkind thoughts toward Oriya Mibu would return to plague him… and drive him to the brink of insanity…

But right then, as he stood and watched with lips tightly pressed together, jaw trembling, Yutaka Watari was simply a man who was reacting quite normally to being jilted. Petulantly, irrelevantly and masochistically, he rummaged for the modern term for what had been done to him in a brain addled by his heartbreak and found it: 'dumped'. His indignation gave way to shock. Only his dedication to his job prevented him from fleeing the scene, and so he stood there, feeling all of the insecurities, insignificance, naïveté and worthlessness of someone who has been thrown over.

More than two hundred years had passed before he had allowed himself to feel love again, dared to hope, and act upon his love. He had made his decision as he stared at the sleeping face of Oriya Mibu just before the sun rose that morning after their single night of passion together, a dawn which had been the most splendid one in all of Watari's existence, both before and after his death – he had vowed to fill the void in that man's heart, for as long as he needed him to… and he had silently prayed as he kissed those lovely lips that he would be allowed to love him for a very long time, for as long as he lived… he wanted to be with him to the very end, right beside him all the way as he grew old and frail… and when it was time for him to leave this world, he would hold him close and whisper words of love into his ear… and when his spirit separated from his body, he would be the one to embrace him and carry him to Meifu…

' 'For as long as you needed me to…'
Did I jinx it with that?
Sorry I can't say, 'Congratulations, you've got him back, way to go, I wish you well, Oriya.' Guess I'm not as noble and selfless as I thought I was after all…
In the end, I'm only human… and I get angry and hurt like your average human…
However gullible I may have been, and even though it doesn't mean a whit to you,
I love you, Oriya…'

Asato Tsuzuki, his hand still clamped around Seiichiro's arm, felt the tremor vibrating through the secretary's body, saw him close his eyes and lower his head…

Tatsumi withdrew his mind from his shadow net. Through his link with it, he had heard the silent communication of the re-united lovers he and his Shinigami spied upon. Intending to decipher Muraki's state of mind, he had willfully eavesdropped, and now he was ashamed, his shame shunting aside his confirmation of Muraki's and Mibu's more-than-mortal status, their telepathic conversation being a further attestation to him…

'This isn't right. We should not even be here, encroaching upon their reunion, a reunion long overdue… we're not even allowing them any privacy… I should call this operation off, but… how can I disobey a direct order from my king? I… I must obey… it's probably best to bring them to our realm… we can protect them from that demon… at least there, they can be together, until it is destroyed… perhaps if I explain it to them, that they won't be harmed, they just might consent to come with us…'

'Why are you dawdling, shadow master? Get on with it! I haven't got all day!'

Jarred by the sharp intrusion into his thoughts, Tatsumi jerked his head upright, his lips thinning with outrage.

'Urasawa?! How dare you get into my head?! I don't take orders from you!'

'Whatever. You're wasting time, just begin already…'

'Shut up and back off!'

The secretary chose to ignore Urasawa's contemptuous sneer and bristled with anger, regrouping himself as he saw the two by the twin graves rise and embrace…

'Kazu… the Shinigami… they're here…'

'I know…'

'They won't let us go…'

'You've decided then? That you'll come with me?'

'Yes.'

'Just leave everything to me…'

'Don't hurt them…'

'I won't… trust me… whatever happens, I need you to trust me…'

'I will.'

The sudden impinging of a very familiar voice in his head made Tatsumi freeze.

'What are you waiting for, Tatsumi-san? Let the games begin. Catch us if you can.'

Tatsumi uttered an expletive. Muraki caught Mibu's hand in his and they both bolted with lightning speed, sprinting away from the graves. Crossing the footpath, they darted among the trees and sped towards the open field beyond, both men's long legs covering the distance with fleet steps.

Tsuzuki roared, "Do it now, Seiichi!" Tatsumi's shadowy tongues shot out from the ground, bore down on the escapees, surrounding and closing in on the pair.

Tatsumi's group gave frantic chase. Tsuzuki, in the lead, sensed the sheer force of the shadow master's vortex, reinforced with something else. As he ran towards it, gazing at the cone of leaping dark shapes rising high in the air, he felt a heaviness creeping into his limbs and a reduction in his concentration and at once turned his eyes away from the dark shapes, realizing the secretary had added an extra punch to his shadow trap – a Tatsumi Special, his version of a muscle relaxant and sedative rolled into one – and was giving it everything he had. He was impressed and approved wholeheartedly – the two captives would be rendered weaker, he hoped desperately, but would not suffer serious, permanent harm. He swung his head around, searching for Watari and found him, pelting along at full tilt close on his left and hissed, "Don't look at the shadows, Taka! They'll knock you out!" The blond responded with a quick nod of his head. Their anxious eyes attempted to pick out the two figures in the midst of Tatsumi's snare and saw them.

Mibu had faltered, from the effects of Tatsumi's tranquilizer cocktail, Tsuzuki conjectured, and was on his knees. Muraki's face was colored and warped with pure fury while he helped a sluggish Oriya to his feet.

Watari's blood curdled when he heard Oriya's cries of "No! Please, don't!" and saw the man he loved cast himself against his erstwhile lover.

Tatsumi, amidst Tsuzuki's desperate shouts of "Go, go!" came to a halt outside the ring of dark shapeless forms, pleased and somewhat disbelieving that he had managed to confine Muraki thus far and was about spirit his shadow and its captives to Meifu when Muraki's voice rang out.

"Stand down, shadow master, and no-one will get hurt!"

The sound of a single 'click' seemed as loud as a thunderclap to the three Shinigami, gaping in horror at Muraki, holding a gun, its muzzle pressed against Oriya's temple. The doctor had his other arm locked around Oriya's neck; the pinned man appeared unresisting, his arms hung limply at his sides.

"Call off your shadow, secretary, or Oriya gets it, on the count of three."

To be continued...

Notes:
Haori – a loose, knee-length, Japanese garment, resembling a coat
Nii-sama – Japanese, respectful term for 'elder brother'
Musuko – Japanese for 'son'

More drama to come in the next installment. I'll work as fast as I can. This part would have been posted sooner, but my editing changes just wouldn't get saved by the system and that was really exasperating so I gave up after attempting several times – what a complete waste of my time, especially when one is losing precious sleep time to post a new chapter! What a downer! I wonder if any of you have experienced the same thing? Finally, after dozens of attempts I gave up, hence a rather sloppy part, in terms of layout and font (I'm irritated!) - you'll just have to figure out which lines are thoughts, I had to insert things like flashback indicators, it messes up the flow of things, I'm sooooooo mad, and if this keeps happening, I'm thinking this really isn't a nice place to post one's stories, in terms of the system glitches. Editing should not be a torture and changes should be saved after just ONE go!! Well, enough of my ranting, thanks for listening.
TGO