A/N: The otherworld encounter between Fuuma and Kamui in this chapter was actually inspired by some official CLAMP art from X showing the two as children. You could tell by looking at their body language and faces that Kamui had a bright and adventurous spirit, and that Fuuma was the person looking after him, making sure he didn't get into trouble or hurt himself (which makes what happens in X all the more tragic). In their relationship here, I wanted to evoke that dynamic between them a little bit because I truly think it's a beautiful sentiment. Hope you enjoy!

Spoilers/Timeline: Very slight for Tokyo. If you know who Fuuma is and what role he plays in Tokyo, you're probably good to go.

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Fuuma

Fuuma had never felt quite deserving of the title of 'the good brother' he had earned by being related to Seishirou. It wasn't difficult by any means to behave better than his brother, or at least express himself with more subtlety and less unfeeling brutality verging on sadism. But at the same time, he envied the treasure Seishirou had found in Subaru, and wondered what it would be like to have such a beautiful creature enthralled by him and willing to sacrifice all of his freedoms to be loved and treasured in his care. He, too, wanted something that was his to possess solely, something that bent and revealed itself only at his whim. Not someone like Subaru, exactly— from Seishirou's description of him, he seemed too willing and meek to present much of a challenge— but someone who would resist his capture up until the point where it would be impossible to refuse to give in.

He had always liked the sound of the Kamui from Seishirou's descriptions, although his brother didn't treat the vampire too kindly given the fact that he had been responsible for taking Subaru away 'in the middle of their fun'. Seishirou didn't like things that stood in the way of what he wanted, and usually ended up killing them for the annoyance they posed, but Fuuma was intrigued by Kamui's natural compulsion to step in for his brother, even though Subaru didn't wish to be saved from the monster devouring him. No such sentiment existed between him and Seishirou, but it sounded nice to him to have something that precious to protect. The objects he collected from world to world were valuable and often served some magnificent purpose, but they were just objects; he felt no burning desire to keep them safe or hoard them to himself when they seemed to be needed elsewhere. But he wanted to feel that way about someone or something. He wanted to be filled with enough possessiveness to cage his prey forever, to intertwine their fates and assure that the one he caught would never look or feel or rely on anyone else other than him.

And when he saw Kamui for the first time in Tokyo, his slight body weighed down by his heavy red cloak and his silken black hair blowing in the dusty wind, he thought now here is someone who has never relied on anyone in his life. It was an exciting thought. The boy's heart was untouched territory, and his defenses were something that had never been breached, not even by the brother he held so firmly to. He probably didn't even know what it felt like to be thought of in the way Seishirou looked upon Subaru, or what kind of magnetism could connect two people in spite of their better judgment. But Fuuma felt it as he watched him from the back of his motorcycle, imagining the soft and hard lines of the body beneath Kamui's cloak and how perfect that pert scowl would look when turned to him. If any heart could tame the resistance of this proud beast, he wanted it to be his. Even if Kamui fought against it and saw no point in having his protective layer invaded, Fuuma wanted him to submit, to reveal the begging and desirous face that only he could show. Fuuma may have been the good brother compared to Seishirou, but that didn't mean he had to really be good.

Of course, Kamui had been armed and dangerous at that time, and the situation in the country itself hadn't been ideal enough for him to do anything more than tease the vampire and try to get a rise out of him. They fought from time to time, and Fuuma always managed to find a way to win and take advantage of having his spoils in his hands for a few brief seconds, but the closeness seemed to disturb something in Kamui, and he slipped away before Fuuma could do anything more than whisper in his ear. But nothing about this was particularly bothersome. Fuuma didn't like things that fell into his hands without any work, and Kamui was well worth the winning and the effort it would take. There was something exceptional about the way their bodies felt pressed together, and in the moments when Kamui somewhat relaxed into the touch before panicking and fleeing. He didn't understand why, but it felt somehow familiar, and the feeling of it echoing through his body was so fitting that he knew he would be happy to remain in such an embrace for his whole life, if need be.

But Fuuma had needed to set off again after the group of travelers had shaken Tokyo to its core and made it necessary for him to reveal that Seishirou was his brother, which was all the motivation Kamui needed to pull Subaru away. It was sad, really. Subaru had worn such a mournful little look at the thought of Fuuma being the one to reach him rather than Seishirou, and the voice in which he had asked after the hunter was so riddled with longing that even Kamui had the decency to look a bit flustered. Fuuma had assured him that Seishirou would undoubtedly find his way soon, and with a sly look at Kamui, added that he, too, hoped this would not be their last meeting.

"It won't be," Subaru had said suddenly, his green eyes looking so full and earnest that Seishirou would have probably killed Fuuma for having the privilege of seeing them without permission. "You are Kamui's important person, after all."

After that, Kamui had turned a brilliant shade of red, grabbed Subaru, and left Tokyo behind without giving either Fuuma or his brother the chance to say anything more. Fuuma watched him fondly as he left, not fully understanding what Subaru meant, but hoping that somewhere in Kamui's heart it was the truth. There was something certain to Subaru's words as if he knew without question they would all end up back together, and the fact that he was capable of ensnaring Seishirou's obsession suggested to Fuuma that there was something special about him, and that maybe he did know. In any case, Fuuma had never once failed to retrieve a treasure he had set his heart on getting, so he doubted Kamui would be able to evade him for long.

And I am your important person, after all, Fuuma thought to himself, rubbing his hands together with a smile. Whether you know it or not, I will be the one to make the wall around your heart fall.

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After finally leaving behind his former group to the care of the government building gang in Tokyo, Fuuma traveled to a southern island to hunt down a supposed trove of primitive instruments a collector had hired him to find. He wasn't excited about this particular task, but he was looking forward to seeing the location; according to his research, the country was known for its white sandy beaches, which attracted tourists from all sorts of countries. He'd never been much of a swimmer, and actually preferred the kinds of sports he learned in the other worlds he'd visited— such as basketball and fencing— but he'd spent such a long time in Tokyo that he appreciated the chance to get some fresh air and sea breeze without risking his life for it.

He doubted Subaru and Kamui had ended up in this place along with him, but he didn't mind imagining they had. Even with his pale skin, Kamui had to look excellent in a swim suit. Especially the tiny suits some of the more serious swimmers seemed to be wearing here. Of course, he had to look even better without anything on, but Fuuma wasn't going to push his luck that far. Yet.

He took a short circuit around the beach, shedding his heavy coat as he went. He was the only fully clothed person in the area, though he figured it was more his dark hair and pale skin that earned the locals' stares. If they said anything about him amongst themselves, he couldn't understand; their accents were so thick that he figured it would take him much more time in this place to get accustomed to it.

As he walked and admired the surroundings, Fuuma felt something run into his leg. He looked down. A small child with dark hair and purplish blue eyes had crashed into him and landed in the sand, his small lips quivering in embarrassment at having fallen in front of a stranger. Fuuma's eyes widened. He did not immediately recognize the child, but there was something about his presence that seemed familiar, although in some ways different to one he was already aware of. He knelt down. Those are Kamui's eyes, he realized, watching a few stray tears fall down as the child began to sniffle. He suddenly remembered a time when he had encountered himself as an older man in one of the worlds he had visited, although he had not felt comfortable addressing himself at the time, not only because he didn't want to give his other self a scare, but also because he had no real burning question to ask. It didn't matter if he was successful in that world because he would have to build his own success regardless, and if he had some soulmate or another he was supposed to be chasing, he would find that person even without the knowledge of who it was.

But he thought that this encounter might be different. He had been attracted to the Kamui he had met in Tokyo, but it had taken so long for their paths to intersect that he felt somewhat cheated. He wasn't aware of how Kamui had grown up or what circumstances had made him the way he was. All he had to go by was the persistent affection in his heart paired with what he could sense from Kamui whenever they had occasion to touch or speak. He liked his fire and stubbornness and even the occasional weakness that showed when Fuuma got too close, but he didn't know where that spark came from or how Kamui would receive the idea of letting someone slip past the barriers he had set up to be a better protector of Subaru.

Of course, I doubt I'll get that much out of such a small child, he thought, but he extended his hand in any case, and helped the slight figure to his feet. The child looked at him warily at first, but at last gave a shy smile and said a polite thank you.

"Can I help you find your mother?" Fuuma asked, scanning the beach for a dark haired woman who matched the child. It didn't seem like it would be too difficult given the rarity of both dark hair and light skin in this country, but the beach was so crowded that even Fuuma had difficulty seeing from one person to another.

"I don't have a mother," the child said, suddenly sullen again. The way his mouth curled and his eyebrows furrowed confirmed in Fuuma's mind that he had found his way to Kamui, although not quite the version he was searching for.

"Well, then who's looking after you? They must be worried about you, right?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm all alone." He buried his face in Fuuma's pant leg and began to sniffle again.

"Now, now." Fuuma reached down to ruffle his hair. "I'm sure that's not true at all. Someone loved you enough to bring you here and buy a nice beach outfit for you. And they made sure you put on a hat to protect yourself from the sun. Am I right?"

The child stared at him, deciding whether or not these actions were truly good enough to make him go back to whoever his guardian was. Stubborn thing, Fuuma thought to himself with a smile. And you really think you can do everything alone, do you?

"Oba-san," the child said finally, pointing off to some area in the distance.

"And did she set up a towel or a picnic somewhere?"

"By the water."

"Can you take me there? She must be terrified that something happened to you." He extended his hand again. "You're too young to be out on your own, all right? You still need someone to look after you."

"Do not!" The child kicked a bit of sand at Fuuma's leg in punishment, but still pulled the man forward to where his aunt was waiting.

The woman, a young and sleek twenty-something, looked overjoyed upon her nephew's return. "Kamui," she cried out, sweeping him up into her arms and pressing him against her chest. "Please don't run off again. I would never forgive myself if you were lost." She turned to Fuuma. "Thank you, sir, for helping him find his way back." She stuck out her hand and introduced herself as Tokiko Magami, Kamui's aunt.

So it is him after all, Fuuma thought, though he hadn't had much doubt. How cute. He wondered how his Kamui would feel if he referenced how tiny he had been when he was little when they next met. And if Kamui looked so much like a little, though a bit grumpy, angel, Fuuma could only imagine how miniature Subaru would be. He hoped Seishirou never encountered one, for his own good.

Magami-san set Kamui back on the ground and invited Fuuma to eat some of their picnic as thanks. Fuuma had planned on getting a head start on his task so he could touch base with Yuuko as soon as he was finished, but he didn't see how it could hurt spending a little time with Kamui, even though this one was not his. He had missed out on his being a child and a less jaded innocent, and it wasn't even likely that his Kamui would open up to him any time soon, even though Subaru had called Fuuma his important person. He wanted to know Kamui more, to figure out what he could bring to his life, to map out the best route to an ending where Kamui would weaken in his arms but not run away after. I want to know it all, I want to know everything. And what Fuuma wanted, he usually found a way to have.

Kamui started building what he called a 'sand puppy' with his bucket and shovel while Fuuma and his aunt shared a lemonade and talked about the weather. As the creation reached nearer to completion, he began to laugh and clap his hands in delight. It wasn't half bad, Fuuma noted. A few of the nearby children were beginning to take notice and build their own animals and houses in the sand beside Kamui.

One of them was another dark haired child, this one about a head taller than the young Kamui. Fuuma sipped his lemonade calmly. Well, well, well, he thought. It seems Kamui can't escape me as well as he thought. And it seems I was not so wrong in thinking him to be my soulmate, huh?

The younger version of Fuuma, without asking, began to work with Kamui on his puppy, adding a collar made of seaweed and spots made out of nearby white stones. The two boys didn't speak, but worked diligently together, passing the shovel and bucket back and forth between each other as if they knew exactly when the other needed it even without words.

"Looks like he's making a friend," Magami-san said with a relieved sigh. "I was getting a bit worried. He's so troubled for a child, and always keeping to himself. It got even harder when we moved away, but I just couldn't stay in the place where my sister had died for any longer."

"It must have been hard for him."

"It was. He was attached to his mother, but it goes deeper than that. He's always thought too much, much more than he's ever spoken, and he looks so burdened for someone so young. As if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders." She looked down at him with a sad smile. "But he's always reaching his hand out to those weaker than him. Stray kittens and bullied children at playgrounds... he's a compassionate soul, but I worry what will happen if he keeps on putting everything else before himself."

The two watched as Kamui rose to his feet to retrieve more of the damp sand by the shoreline in his bucket. He pitched forwards a little as he lost his footing in the sand, but the young Fuuma caught him by his shirt and held on, finally saying the first words shared between the two: don't worry, I've got you.

Fuuma nodded with the smile at his younger self, although the other him was occupied in leading Kamui to the water, just to make sure he was okay. He understood those words, and was glad that they were the ones this Kamui would be the first to hear from him. It was how he had felt when he'd managed to get Kamui in his arms in Tokyo, although that act had been less mutual than this. I have you right here, so forget about your brother and whatever duties you think you have in these worlds you travel, because it's over now. You don't have to be afraid or run anymore, because I love you, and you are mine.

But it would be easier for this manifestation to make his Kamui understand. They would have an early history together, Fuuma guessed. He would still feel the pull to protect the strong and yet fragile figure that was Kamui, and even if Kamui's stubbornness reared its head, he was still young enough to trust in his Fuuma and allow himself to be spoiled by the person who knew him best. And he would become that person, Fuuma knew. Even though they were both still young, the magnetism between them was there, and would only grow as time went on.

But it would be different for him and the Kamui he had chosen. They had grown up separate and stumbled into each other only due to a chain of events Seishirou himself had set off by finding a vampire coven and nearly getting himself killed by them, but that was the way that fate worked. They were meant to find one another and to feel the attraction that existed between them because Kamui was Kamui and Fuuma was Fuuma. They were made to complete the part the other was missing. Fuuma would be Kamui's support, the person to make him realize the side of himself that wanted to be treasured rather than sacrificial, and Kamui would be the answer to Fuuma's endless search for something that felt right and was his, something that he did not have to share with Seishirou or give away as payment at the end of a mission. So many things in life were temporary, but the pressing feeling inside of him to find his treasure and claim it seemed as if it would never fade.

Fuuma rose to his feet and bowed to Magami-san. "Thank you for the meal, but I have somewhere I have to be now. But you take care of your nephew, and make sure he hangs on to his new friend, all right?"

"Of course," she said, packing up her basket. "Kamui, come over here and thank the nice man who found you."

Kamui dutifully bowed to Fuuma and wrapped his arms around his leg. "Do you really have to go, oji-san?"

"Oji-san? I'm not that old, am I?" He ruffled Kamui's hair again with a smile. "Don't worry. Give it a few years, and you'll see this face, even if you don't still remember it. And you let your friend over there take good care of you, all right?"

"I don't need someone to take care of me," Kamui insisted, his face morphing into a pout again.

"Maybe not," Fuuma agreed. "But you do need someone who thinks of you as most important. Life would be a little sad without that, wouldn't it?"

With a wink, he eased Kamui off his leg and padded through the sand. He wanted to finish as soon as possible: the mission in this country, the meeting with Yuuko, the possibility of catching up with Seishirou, and anything that stood in the way of the task that had suddenly become more important. He now understood what had driven Seishirou to offer up his eye in exchange for the power to see Subaru again. Now that he had found the person he wanted to know and spend the rest of his days slowly discovering, nothing else mattered half as much. The universe had endless places for him to go and find treasures to sell or use in contracts, but there was only one place his personal treasure was hiding, and that was the place he most wanted to go and at last find a way to make sure it never escaped his grasp again.

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Next Up: Seishirou