Beta: Youkai Kisaki

A/N: And with a Double Post comes the conclusion of Fuji's tale, and the end of a second 'history tale'. The story returns to the present in the next chapter. Comments and criticism appreciated.

The small house, built in the shadow of a little stone church, was home to the town's priest and his family. Father Fuji, his wife and three children lived there with only two servants, the housekeeper who made their meals, and a girl who served the food and cleaned the house. There had been more servants, but when the youngest of the Fuji children had fallen ill they could no longer afford to keep more, and even two sometimes felt like too much when the frequent visits from the doctor were always so costly.

Yumiko sat by Yuuta's bed, listened to his laboured breathing, and tried not to fall asleep. She feared the comfort of rest, afraid that if she would fall asleep, when she woke she would be met with silence. As much as she wanted her little brother to not suffer any more, she could not pray for an end to his suffering. She could not let go of Yuuta, her little baby-brother.

One of the candles at the far end of the room burned out, and she turned her head towards the darkness now encasing the other side of the room. "Syusuke!" she cried out, noticing her brother standing midst the shadows. She had not heard the door open, or the footsteps in the corridor, had not heard anyone's breath besides her own steady, and Yuuta's pained one.

"When did you…?" she asked, her words trailing off as she saw the still closed door of the room. "No, how did you…" she shook her head, deciding it was not important. She must have fallen asleep after all, and Syusuke had arrived while she was sleeping. Angry at herself for falling asleep, Yumiko forced a smile on her face and looked at her brother. "How is Mr Atobe?"

"He is fine," Syusuke answered, and Yumiko frowned at the sound of his voice. There was something different in it. He sounded calmer than he had earlier during the day. "A friend of his is visiting."

"He must be pleased, then," Yumiko commented and was surprised by her brother's darkly amused chuckle. "You should go to bed, Syusuke," she said, suspecting her brother had drank too much. He always stank of wine when he returned from Atobe, but she'd never seen him drunk. "I will sit by Yuuta for the remainder of the night."

"No, you go, I'll stay," Syusuke insisted, his voice taking on a stubborn tone.

"I will not leave you alone with him, not when you're drunk," Yumiko chided. "Stay if you want, but I'll not let him be tended by a drunkard."

"I'm not drunk," Syusuke said, and Yumiko frowned a little. True, Syusuke did not sound it. But there was something wrong. "Go to bed sister, I'll watch over Yuuta. You know I'd never let anything happen to him. I would rather slit my own throat than let anything harm Yuuta."

"Don't say things like that Syusuke." The words flew automatically from her mouth and there was no heat behind them. She had tried, first, to speak them with more feeling when Syusuke spoke so passionately of Yuuta, but when some things were repeated often enough they became routine, and routine could rarely remain heated.

"But I mean it," Syusuke argued.

"I know you do," Yumiko answered. "But you still shouldn't say it."

"Why not? He is my brother!" Syusuke nearly yelled.

Yumiko chose to not answer. It was an old argument, and she was tired of it. She knew Syusuke never saw anything wrong with his devotion for his brother, but it had bothered Yumiko, and it still did. She had hoped that Atobe would have been enough of a diversion for Syusuke, but no matter how much the new friend mattered to Syusuke, their little brother would always be first in Syusuke's thoughts.

There was nothing wrong with it, really. It was normal for older siblings, especially brothers to be protective of their younger brother, but Syusuke's possessiveness and jealousy over Yuuta's attention went beyond that which was normal, and Yumiko had been scared that one day there would be more to it than just brotherly affection.

She was ashamed of her thoughts, but she could not rid herself of them. The way Syusuke would sometimes gaze at Yuuta, and the way he would glare after every other friend Yuuta had sent tremors of true fear coursing through Yumiko. Fear that one day Syusuke would do something that was wrong.

"You sound like Atobe," Syusuke spoke in a growling tone, and Yumiko turned her head sharply, ripping her gaze from Yuuta's resting form.

"I did not say anything," she spoke slowly.

"Oh." She saw Syusuke shrug. "I suppose I will have to pay attention to those kinds of things from now on."

A cold shiver ran through Yumiko.

"Perhaps I should have asked more about the creature I have now turned into. But I doubt I would have paid attention to anything he could have told me."

"What are you talking about?" Yumiko asked and stood from her chair so she could see her brother's face more clearly in the dim light of the few candles that were still lit.

"I have been given a gift, Yumiko." Syusuke's voice was as gentle as ever, but there was a darker edge to it now, one that had not been there before. Violence that made her fear. "A gift of eternal life. He gave me all I need. Now I never need to fear death or follow God's plan, I can make my own destiny along a path of darkness that holds strange and glorious beauty. And Yuuta will walk that path with me." Syusuke's voice sounded near breathless by the time he reached the end of his speech, and when he moved closer to the bed where Yuuta lay, terror filled Yumiko.

"Wait!" she yelled and ran between her brothers.

"You cannot prevent this Yumiko. I won't let you." Syusuke placed his hand on her chest and pushed, and frozen, Yumiko fell back on the bed, almost landing on Yuuta. Her hand over the sick boy's knees she stared up at what had once been her brother and now saw what she had not seen before.

His skin was deathly pale, and there was no rosy tint on his cheeks, yet he had just returned from the cold. Syusuke's lips, that had always been pale, seemed even paler now. He was like a ghost of his former self, and when Yumiko looked in to his eyes, she saw death in them.

"What has been done to you?" she whispered, her fingers searching for the cross that always hang around her neck. Syusuke's eyes flashed with anger when he saw the gesture, and he growled, his mouth drawing back and revealing something that made Yumiko let out a strangled sob. Her brother had fangs like an animal, a beast.

The sudden silence in the room was as loud as screaming to Yumiko's ears, the pause in the constant sound of pained and broken breathing nearly made her heart stop from fear. It was everything she had feared, that lack of sound in this small room.

Feet still hanging from the side of the bed she twisted her body so she could look at Yuuta. She stared at his pale face, his fever flushed cheeks and dry lips. And she sobbed with relief when Yuuta's chin was painted red from the blood he coughed, and lifted his eyelids to reveal grey eyes that were glassed with fever and pain. Not dead, not yet.

But before she could lift a calming hand to his forehead Syusuke was there, with a wet cloth, wiping away the blood and sweat from the boy's clammy skin.

"Brother?" Yuuta asked with a voice that sounded broken, drained of strength.

"Hush," Syusuke whispered, appearing as himself again. Any trace of the monster, the beast Yumiko had seen was gone, and all that was left was Yuuta's brother.

"Yumiko…?" Yuuta coughed again, drops of blood colouring his lips and pale face. They gleamed in the room's scarce light, and Yumiko, her eyes fixed on Syusuke's face, saw his lips twitch and nostrils shiver. "What's happened?"

"Nothing you should worry about," Syusuke answered with a gentle smile and a soft voice. "Go back to sleep. I'll watch over you." Syusuke caressed Yuuta's forehead until the sick boy's eyes closed. When they did, Syusuke leaned down to kiss him goodnight, like any other night. But when his lips were lifted from the forehead he did not raise his head.

Unable to move Yumiko stared as Syusuke kissed away the blood, fingers caressing Yuuta's neck and shoulders. She stared wide eyed, shocked as the fingers hold became tighter and they dug into the skin and the nails drew more blood from under the nearly translucent skin.

"Stop," Yumiko had not realized she was crying until she tasted the salt of tears in her mouth. "Don't hurt him, please!" Her voice had become nothing like her own, filled with fear and sorrow, terror.

Syusuke did not move from his position over Yuuta, but opened his eyes and turned them to look at her. "Don't interfere," he growled the threat. "I'll kill you."

"You can't do this!" she screamed and tried to pull Syusuke away from Yuuta, of the bed by taking hold of the back of his coat.

Syusuke struck and hit Yumiko on the mouth with the back of his hand. The taste of blood filled Yumiko's mouth when her lip was caught between Syusuke's hand and her own teeth. But she did not remain on her back, could not when Yuuta was in danger.

She turned to her stomach, crawled up to her knees and threw herself on Syusuke's back, screaming, pulling on his hair. She succeeded in dragging Syusuke from the bed, but that was all. Syusuke turned, lifted her from the floor to his arms and dragged her away from the bed.

Yumiko screamed and the door of the sick room opened. In less time than a second Yumiko was thrown from the room at the person that had opened it and the door was locked after them. Screaming and crying she threw herself at the door, banging on it with her fists, trying to pry it open.

"Syusuke! Don't hurt him, please! Syusuke please…" she sobbed and slid on the ground, her body pressed against the door. "Don't' hurt him," she whispered on final time, face pressed against the wood.

"Yumiko? What is going on in here? Why are you screaming such things at Syusuke?" their mother shouted next to her ear. "Where is Yuuta? Yumiko? Yumiko, answer me!"

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"Brother?" Yuuta's asked from the bed. "Why did you…" he had to stop and cough before he could speak again. "Why did you hurt Yumiko?"

"Don't worry about it," Syusuke answered, turning back to Yuuta. "I told you to sleep didn't I? It won't hurt if you sleep."

"What won't hurt?" Yuuta forced himself into a sitting position on the bed. "Were you going to suffocate me in my sleep with a pillow? I can live with the pain, I don't need your pity!" Yuuta yelled, angry and hurt that his brother did not think him strong enough to handle the pain.

"No, I wasn't going to kill you, I could never do that," Syusuke answered and hurried to sit on the bed.

"Then what?" Yuuta struggled to not let his eyelids drop, tried not to faint. In the past weeks he had done nothing but slept past the fever and pain, had only woken to cough up blood and now he wanted to be aware enough to see Syusuke as clearly as he had before.

Before he had gotten sick Syusuke had been the one everyone always spoke of, the one that came first in everyone's thoughts. And it was still Syusuke everyone spoke of when they came to sit beside his sickbed, to tell him how much Yuuta's illness hurt Syusuke, how hopeless Syusuke was. When Yuuta was dying, it was Syusuke everyone worried about.

The banging behind the door that had stopped for a moment started again and they heard their father yell, "Syusuke, open the door! Yumiko is frightened, we are frightened! Let us in to see Yuuta!"

Syusuke looked at the door, and Yuuta at his brother. "Why wont' you open the door?" Yuuta asked and was echoed by their mother from the other side of the door.

"Open the door Syusuke!"

At the beginning of his sickness Syusuke had looked at him with desperate pleading, like he expected Yuuta to say or do something that would make it all better. He was the older brother that had always protected and taken care of him, but when he really needed his older brother Syusuke crumbled.

It had gotten better a few weeks ago when Atobe had arrived. Fuji's smile when he came to see Yuuta seemed to have regained its old cheeriness. And Yuuta knew he should have been happy for his brother. Instead he'd been angry that Syusuke was happy. Syusuke shouldn't have been happy, shouldn't be allowed to want to be with anyone else.

"I want to show you something," Syusuke said and drew a knife from his belt.

"Where did you get that?" Yuuta drew back, lifted his gaze from the blade to Syusuke's eyes and shivered at the alien look in them, at the strange eagerness and happiness in Syusuke's smile.

"Where I got it isn't as important as what I'm going to do with it," Syusuke answered and after making sure Yuuta was watching, brought the blade down on his skin, a few inches above his wrist and pressed down.

"Brother!" Yuuta screamed as the blood spread on the creamy white skin.

"Watch," Syusuke whispered and dropped the knife down on the sheets, not caring about the crimson stains on the white fabric.

"Are you crazy?" Yuuta hissed, pulled on his blanket and tried to wrap it around the bleeding wound, but Syusuke took hold of his hands.

"Just watch, Yuuta," Syusuke whispered and Yuuta ripped his gaze from Syusuke's eyes to the wound. There was still blood on the skin and on the sheets, but only a scar left of the wound, and as he watched even that vanished.

"How?" Yuuta asked and took hold of Syusuke's arm with both his hands and slid his fingers against the skin, smearing the blood. "It wasn't a trick, I saw it, the knife…" Yuuta took the knife and tried to cut his own hand but Syusuke stopped him.

"Don't," he said, holding Yuuta's hand. "You'll hurt yourself."

Yuuta suddenly realized that he skin under his touch was cold. Not cold like the skin of someone that had been outside for hours, but the coldness you could feel when you touched a stone that had been lying for hours in the shadow where the sun couldn't reach it.

Amazed by this discovery Yuuta tightened his grip around his brother's wrist and was startled again when he noticed that besides the coldness, there was something else in Syusuke that reminded him of a stone. He could feel the muscles and the bones under his touch as Syusuke tensed, but he could not feel that which should have been there, was always there even when Syusuke fell asleep by his bed, his breath warm against Yuuta's arm.

A heart beat. That is what Yuuta could not feel under his touch.

"You're dead?" Yuuta asked, looking up at his brother's eyes, trying to read them, but he couldn't. Never could. "How could you die before me? Why?" Yuuta was furious. Syusuke was always better than him at everything, was always more loved and liked, always got everywhere before him. Yuuta could never beat him at anything. It didn't matter if they were running or trying to catch fish from the river. Syusuke would always have he biggest and best catch, would always be at the finish line before him.

"I did it for you, Yuuta," Syusuke said softly, twisting their hands so Syusuke was holding Yuuta's fisted hands between his palms.

"That's your excuse for everything," Yuuta scowled and when another coughing fit tore through him he bent over and was forced to lean on Syusuke for support. As his body convulsed, his brother's arms slid around him and held him tightly. "How could you dying help me? If you're dead, what good are you to me?" Yuuta whispered when the coughing passed.

"Don't you see?" Syusuke answered and though Yuuta couldn't see it, he heard the smile that was on his brother's lips. "I'm dead, but I'm still here with you."

"How?" Yuuta asked, closing his eyes and letting the world spin.

"I'll show you."

Yuuta tried to scream when he felt the pain but was too weak to let out a sound any stronger than a whimper. The pain soon passed, but he still felt weak and tired. Too tired to stay awake.

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Still holding Yuuta in his arms Fuji laid them both down on the bed, resting Yuuta's head gently on the pillows. He placed his hand over the two round, pale wounds on the neck, surprised there was no blood on the skin. But he had drank it all, revelled in the sweet taste of it, surprised at his own hunger, at how much he had wanted to tear harder into the skin, bite deeper, to have more.

In the blood he had for the first time truly known his brother. In the thick blood he had felt Yuuta's stubbornness, his quick temper and the will to live, to fight. Through the taste of the blood he had fallen in love with his brother, with his strength, his unyielding spirit.

"What do I do now?" Fuji asked, distressed. He had not thought to ask Sanada how he had done it. Had he just slid his wrist and forced the blood down Fuji's throat? All Fuji remembered was the taste of blood.

The knife was still there, at the edge of the bed. Its blade caught the flame of the candle and reflected the light into his eyes. "I'll try that. I'll cut myself and let you drink," Fuji said, rose and did as he had said. He pushed the blade deeply against his wrist and gasped, startled at the strength in which the blood surged from the wound. It soaked the white sheets, Yuuta's shirt, both their clothes, coloured them both and the bed red. It pooled on Yuuta's throat, his parted lips and eyelids.

Fuji dropped the blade and almost fearful that the blood would stop flowing soon and the wound would heal, he pressed his bleeding wrist against Yuuta's mouth, trembling. "Come back to me Yuuta. Don't let God win and take you."

But Yuuta lay still. Not even his throat moved. "Yuuta!" Fuji screamed in agony.

"Syusuke? What s going on?" Their father screamed. "Syusuke!"

"Open the door!"

"No!" Fuji screamed again, climbed off the bed and fell on the floor. He stayed there with his hands and knees, his head hanging, eyes squeezed shut. He waited for tears, but none came. "Can't I cry anymore?" he sobbed, craving for the feel of tears on his cheeks. "Let me weep for him!"

Too absorbed by his grief Fuji did not see Yuuta sit up.

Ignoring his brother's shivering form on the floor Yuuta stared ahead of him at the room that had been all he had seen of the world for the last few months. Before, when he had not yet been so sick, he had sat outside in the garden, insisted on being out even in the freezing winter. He had wanted to go outside even after he had grown too sick, but his family had no allowed it and the doctor had said it was too dangerous.

Yuuta stared down at his shirt, his nostrils shivered at the new seductive scent in the air. He recognized the scent of blood, having coughed it up so many times. A familiar scent, but stronger and suddenly so very alluring. It had never been a thing to crave for. It had been a thing of fear, to see blood on the sheets, on his skin.

Yuuta lifted the blood soaked sheet to his nose and sniffed. He pressed it against his nose and inhaled, closing his eyes as the euphoria hit him.

He turned his head to the hunched body on his left, reached out his hand to touch it, when his eyes saw the knife. Blinking, he took it. He remembered seeing it cut his brother's flesh, drawing blood. Remembered the lack of any wound. Curious, Yuuta pressed the blade against his arm, hissed at the sharp pain and watched with amazed eyes as the skin knit itself together again.

"Yuuta?" his brother asked from the floor, mouth open, revealing sharp canine teeth in his mouth. Yuuta search with his tongue and found ones just like them in his own mouth.

"Oh Yuuta, I thought I didn't do it right, that I was too late," Syusuke muttered, climbed up from the floor to the bed and threw his arms around Yuuta. "I'm so happy," he whispered against Yuuta's neck.

Yuuta embraced his brother with one arm, holding the knife in his other hand. He stared at it with narrowed eyes, pressed his face against Syusuke's neck and closed his eyes when the scent overwhelmed him again. He wanted to sink his teeth into Syusuke's neck, wanted to taste it in his mouth that alluring blood, feel it rolling over his tongue, swallow it, feed.

"You've turned me into a monster," Yuuta whispered. "I can feel the darkness whisper. I hear your blood calling me, the monster in me beckoning me to feed, to kill." His arm tightened around Syusuke and his eyes sought out the blade in his hand. "It wants to kill you all."

"Yuuta," Syusuke whispered, embracing him even tighter, not hearing what he said, happy only that Yuuta could speak without having to stop to cough.

"But I won't let it," Yuuta continued. "I won't let it hurt them, my family. I love them." Yuuta pulled away from his brother and brought the knife closer Syusuke's throat. "But you're not my brother anymore, you're just a monster that killed me," Yuuta declared and slid open Syusuke's throat and watched with wide eyes and an eager grin as Syusuke tried to cover the wound with his hands, to stop the blood from flowing. "I know it'll heal soon, I saw what happened to your arm, but I'm not going to wait." Yuuta struck the knife deep into Syusuke's chest where he knew the heart was. "I'm going to destroy you because of what you did to me."

Syusuke fell back, his eyes wide, but there was no fear in them, nothing but confusion. Yuuta wanted Syusuke to be afraid of him. "You couldn't just let me die, be free of you! Why couldn't you let me go? Can't you see I hate you, how you cling to me, how you never let me be? Have my own life!" Yuuta screamed and brought the blade down again, but this time it only hit the mattress, not flesh.

Syusuke had rolled away from the bed and hands still around his throat he turned and jumped through the window. He landed on the ground outside, shards of glass surrounding him, cutting into his flesh. Not caring about them Syusuke ran, Yuuta's hateful words still ringing in his ears.

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Fuji had left more than an hour ago, but still Sanada and Atobe sat in the same room, neither of them speaking. They had not said a word since Fuji had left.

Sanada had not minded it at first, the silence. He could usually go for hours without feeling the need to speak. But Atobe's silences always meant something. They were never just about staying silent. When Atobe did not speak, it was because he was thinking of something, or he was mad, not because he had nothing to say. Atobe always had something to say.

He would have asked Atobe what was wrong, if he had not already known, and thought it childish. It was undignified, ridiculous. So Atobe had lost an argument. It was not the first, and not likely the last time it would happen.

A slash of pain brought Sanada to his knees and he gritted his teeth to not scream aloud. Agony, torment flashed through him, pain that was not all physical. Immense sorrow and grief flooded him and he wanted to weep for a loss that was not his.

"I'm still too closely bound to him," Sanada hissed, a hand over his chest.

"Is he still a live?" Atobe's mocking voice asked.

Sanada grunted and pushed himself up. "I would not still feel the pain if he were dead," he answered.

"Then he will be here soon."

Sanada heard Atobe's foot steps walk away from the room, but did not turn to see him leave. He was certain Atobe would return. And he did, a cloak wrapped around him, a hat in his gloved hands, and Kabaji standing behind him.

"We are leaving?" Sanada asked. "How can we leave? Now, when he is hurting?"

Atobe smiled coldly and Sanada realized his mistake in assuming they would leave together. But before either of them could say any more, Fuji, covered in his own blood, hands holding his torn throat staggered inside through the back door.

"I warned you this would happen," Atobe said and gestured towards Fuji. "And that I would not help you with picking up the pieces. You made him. This is your problem."

"He is your friend."

"And your monster!" Atobe yelled. "This happened for one reason, and one reason only! You listened to Yukimura and not me!"

"He couldn't have known this would happen!" Sanada yelled back.

"Maybe not exactly this, no." Atobe's voice was calmer now and his face colder. "But he knew it would end with something like this. To presume he would think otherwise, is the same as calling him a fool. He is no fool." Atobe stared at Sanada, hoping that he would not need to say out loud the rest of that sentence. That even though he did not think Yukimura a fool, the same could not be said of everyone.

Atobe's eyes landed on the figure that now lay on the floor, oblivious to the world. He no longer felt anything, but perhaps a little pity towards the wretched creature. Fuji had been his friend, but his friend had died tonight when Sanada had taken his blood, and Atobe had no interest in knowing the monster that had taken over his friend's body, and if he still held one, soul.

But he mourned for the loss of a friend. Fuji had lived in a fantasy, thinking that he could somehow create a fairytale ending for his brother through death and violence. The fate of Fuji and his brother reminded Atobe of his own brother, how much hatred there had been between them. The hate between Fuji and his brother had rested deep under the surface, festering inside the younger one's soul. It would have stayed there, hidden, if Fuji had only allowed things to go their natural way. Had Fuji never asked for the blood, had Yukimura not been so consumed by his desire to tarnish everything in Atobe's life he held dear, if Sanada was not a blind fool…

If only…

"You can have the house, if you want it," Atobe said. "The basement is well protected, but they might find it. But if you wish to risk it, you are welcome to it. Though I think this is the first place Yuuta will search for his brother."

Followed by Kabaji Atobe left the house he had dreaded to call home, knowing a day like this would come. The more time he spent in it, the more content he felt, and the happier he became, the more certain he was that Yukimura would soon do something to make an end of it.

In front of his house stood a carriage with no windows and Atobe climbed inside, telling Kabaji, "Let's return to London."

Kabaji nodded and closed the carriage door, and as they began to move, Atobe laughed bitterly, knowing Yukimura had won again. He had taken from Atobe something he had valued greatly. It would not be easy to cope with the loss of Fuji. But he would survive and in time the wounds, though now raw, would heal.

And there was something else, something he had seen on Sanada's face when Atobe had mentioned Yukimura one more time before leaving. The tiny beginnings of a crack in Sanada's unshakeable trust in Yukimura.

Fuji's pain had been terrible to watch, and Sanada had felt it as if it were his own. Sanada could not believe that to Yukimura all that pain had been just a means to an end, a way to get Atobe to return to him.

Yukimura might have won this time, but in doing so he had sacrificed something he could not afford to lose. "How many more of these little mistakes will you make to keep me in line, Yukimura?" Atobe asked of the ceiling and laughed.

Finally, after two years he had finally made a crack in the bond that tied Yukimura and Sanada together. And he could thank Yukimura for it.

He would rip the two apart and watch Yukimura crumble without Sanada there to support him. And without Yukimura holding the restrains of his power Sanada could burn bright, brighter than the sun itself, and Atobe would be there, basking in its warmth.