Part Four
Chapter Forty-Three
I went to see Makoto alone because Kokomi cried herself to sleep on my mother's lap. I had a whole speech prepared about how I would rip out the perv's tongue if he so much as uttered a single objection, and with my spirit energy blazing as it was, he'd have to know I was serious. Maybe he didn't know exactly what I was capable of just yet, but he wasn't a complete moron (unless it came to his sister).
This, though?
Yeah, I was not expecting this.
Yare, yare.
God's Perfect Angel
Like Mom, Kusuo found Makoto on the private engawa off his bedroom, but this time, Kusuo didn't feel the need for formality.
"Well, if it isn't old four-eyes himself." Makoto sounded oddly tired; his energy levels and voice monotone. "Are you here to make an honest woman of my Kokomi-chan?"
Kusuo froze halfway across the room. What?
"What's the matter?" Makoto's attention stayed focused on the crystal blue sky above. It wasn't quite noon, which let the sun play merrily through the trees and across the yard. It was honestly beautiful, but Kusuo was too stunned to appreciate it.
"Cat got your tongue, four-eyes?"
Kusuo frowned deep enough that it was almost a scowl. "What are you up to, you perv?"
Makoto flinched, which drew Kusuo up short. What was that about?
There was a long stretch of silence before:
"Have you ever felt, four-eyes, like you always knew exactly who you were and what you wanted, but then, one day, something happens to peel away the blinders and you realize everything you thought you knew was just a cruel, sick lie?"
Kusuo blinked. That was shockingly close to home, considering the consequences of Kusuo giving up his powers.
"…Why?"
"Because that's how I've felt since waking up this morning." Makoto shook his head. "No, it's been longer than just this morning, it was just so gradual that I didn't notice until it hit me in the face."
Good thing Makoto didn't seem to want a response because Kusuo had no idea what to say.
"That blond kid, Akechi. He explained all this to me." Makoto waved an absent hand as if to encompass the whole compound. "You know, about demons and ghosts and psychics and whatever."
Makoto sighed and leaned back, running a hand through his dark sapphire hair with a self-deprecating chuckle. "You know, Kokomi has always been beautiful. Since the day she was born, she attracted the worst sort of attention. By the time she was six, she'd almost been kidnapped seven times, and actually kidnapped twice."
Kusuo stiffened, his spirit energy flaring. What?!
"So I'm sure you'll forgive me if I say I've always been a bit over protective of her."
"…a bit?" Kusuo couldn't help but say. Makoto groaned and dropped his head into his hand.
"Just…let me get through this first, okay? Then you can say whatever wise-ass thing you want."
Feeling generous—Thanks for that, Chiyo. You can't always blame this stuff on me, you know!—Kusuo nodded, which Makoto must have sensed (or guessed) because he continued.
"It really did just start off as me being over-protective. I made sure I always knew where she was, who she was with, when she would be home. People might have thought it excessive, Kokomi included, but with seven kidnapping attempts and two successes, can you really blame me?"
No. No I cannot.
Makoto sighed again; his head still bowed as he fisted his hair with both hands. "It wasn't until Kokomi started high school that things changed."
High school? A pit opened in Kusuo's stomach.
"All of a sudden, I didn't just see Kokomi as my perfect baby sister; she'd somehow become my perfect everything. An angel whom no mortal man could deign sully with his filthy hands. Only one such as herself—another touched by God and Angels—could dare to place himself on her same exalted plane." Makoto shook his head, and Kusuo could almost feel the bewilderment rolling off him.
"And every day, the feeling just grew stronger and stronger until I couldn't control it. Suddenly I was dreaming of…of having her. All of her, and it felt more than just right, it felt Perfect because who else in the world could possibly be a match for her but me?"
…Shit.
"And then you came along, and everything just got so much worse. Because suddenly there was a rival for my darling sister's—" Makoto shuddered "—affections, and I became even more obsessive and desperate to own and possess her. And all I can say is thank God there was a mix-up with the rooms at Universal Studios Japan because that was the night…I'd actually planned…"
Already bent over, Makoto heaved until all that remained in his stomach was acid. Kusuo wasn't doing much better.
It's my fault. He clenched his fists and tilted his head back to glare death at the ceiling. My subconscious projection about Kokomi being God's perfect angel at freshman orientation must have supercharged her open territory. Seven years of daily exposure to that, is it any wonder he became what he was?
And damn, how was it not so much worse?
Breathing ragged, Makoto wiped a shaky fist across his mouth with a bland chuckle. "I'm amazed there was anything left, considering that's the fourth time this morning."
"…Kokomi's territory is extremely powerful." Kusuo couldn't bring himself to confess everything, but he could give Makoto at least a little grace. "Considering how long you were saturated with it, it's a miracle you held out as well as you did."
Makoto glared at Kusuo between his fingers; tears clung to the corner of his left eye. "Don't patronize me, Saiki. Do you honestly think I don't realize how messed up I am? I went fifteen years as a doting older brother, but it only took two for me to devolve into a depraved, perverted—"
He shuddered again and hunched over. More retching. More acid. "Ugh. Why couldn't that Akemi girl have killed me? At least then I wouldn't have realized what a sick bastard I am."
Makoto needed help. Help that Kusuo could no longer provide. And he needed it desperately, or he would do something stupid.
And while the thought of Makoto's death would have cheered him only twenty minutes ago, now he knew that there was no way in this world he could let Kokomi's brother die. Not for something that was Kusuo's fault.
"Wait a moment." Kusuo spun on his heel, expanding his spirit wave energy to pick up on the various souls wandering about the ruptured compound. He found Natsuko in the playroom with her mother, brother, and the Urameshi twins—What's with all the twins, anyway?—and he wasted no time in projecting his thoughts her way.
Natsuko-san.
Oh my, Saiki-dono. You startled me.
I need your help.
…Yes, of course.
Kusuo turned back to Makoto, who was watching him curiously with one eye, his head still cradled in both hands.
"Kuwabara Natsuko-san is on her way here. She wants to talk."
"…sure, I guess. But didn't you come here to say something?"
Not yet; not with you looking like that. Call it a gut feeling, but Kusuo knew that as soon as he got Makoto's approval—and how terrifying was it that he didn't have a single doubt said approval would come?—Makoto would consider his duty as Kokomi's 'doting older brother' officially completed.
And then, the moment he's alone…
A knock on the door made Kusuo jump. Even though he'd been expecting her, he'd sunk so deep in his thoughts that he'd forgotten to track her spirit energy.
"Come in, Natsuko-san," Kusuo said, and the door slid open.
"Pardon my rudeness, Teruhashi-dono." Natsuko glided into the room, and Makoto eyed her with blatant curiosity. He'd even dropped his hands.
"…You're like Kokomi."
"Yes." Natsuko accepted Kusuo's offered arm so he could guide her around the furniture obstructing the room. "But while Kokomi-dono's abilities are the results of her psychic territory, mine are a side-effect of being aura born."
"Aura born?" Makoto held up a hand to help Natsuko kneel beside him on the engawa.
"Yes." She settled primly and smoothed out her pale-yellow yukata. "I was born from the impetus of my mother absorbing my father's aura twenty years ago. Their red string of fate was severed when he died, but she gathered it up to hoard inside of her, and that jumpstarted her latent Koorime reproduction cycle."
"…uh-huh."
Having seen at least some of this in the Ghost Files, Kusuo was fairing a bit better than Makoto in the believability department, but not by much.
Natsuko smiled indulgently and reached out her hand. "Do you mind, Makoto-dono, if I touch your face."
Kusuo felt Natsuko crank up her natural charm just a smidge, raising a blush on Makoto's cheeks.
"Um, no, no, of course not!"
Still smiling, Natsuko pressed her palm flat against Makoto's forehead.
Kusuo watched, uncertain, as Natsuko worked. He'd fed her the relevant details via telepathy, and she'd assured him that such a procedure should be simple enough, but he couldn't shake the violent pang in his chest reminding him that, once upon a time, he could have done this so much cleaner and faster.
Once again, my own selfish pride backfired on someone else…
"There now." Natsuko dropped her hand and leaned back on her knees with a warm smile. "Is that better?"
"Offu, Natsuko-san!"
Kusuo perked up. Offu?
"That's amazing; my headache is completely gone!"
"I am very glad to hear it, Teruhashi-dono."
"Oh, please." Makoto waved her politeness away. "Just call me Makoto."
Natsuko bowed politely. "Of course, Makoto-dono." She looked up at Kusuo and lifted a dainty hand. "Saiki-dono?"
Kusuo helped her stand, and she bowed to Makoto once more. "Again, I hope you will forgive my rudeness for the intrusion."
"Not at all, Natsuko-san, not at all." Makoto shot her his most charming Mugami Toru grin. "You're welcome here at any time."
"I'll see you out," Kusuo said, more for Makoto than Natsuko.
"Of course. Thank you, Saiki-dono."
He guided her to the door and stepped into the hall. "Well?"
Natsuko nodded. "He'll be all right, Saiki-dono. I did not erase his memories; as his sister is so much a part of him, that would cause him far too much damage. Instead, I minimized the intensity of his remembered behavior. As far as he knows, he's been nothing more or less than an extremely doting and overprotective brother."
Relieved, Kusuo offered her a polite nod. "Thank you, Natsuko-san."
"I told you the day we met, Saiki-dono, that people are placed on this earth to help each other. I am only grateful you have allowed yourself to realize that you no longer need to do everything on your own."
Kusuo nodded again but held his peace. She already knew his thoughts of guilt and self-recrimination, so there was little point in voicing them out loud. Especially since Natsuko was too polite to comment on anything that was neither said aloud nor deliberately thought at her.
"I shall leave you to talk." Natsuko offered him an oddly mischievous smile. "I will see you and Kokomi-dono at lunch, Saiki-dono."
"Aa." Stepping back into the room, Kusuo was confronted by Makoto striking his Magic Eye Detective pose.
"Well, Saiki, let's get down to business, shall we?"
Yare, yare.
Makoko jabbed an accusing finger as Kusuo sunk to his knees beside the uncovered kotatsu. Makoto didn't sit. "Don't you think I don't know why you are here, Saiki. And if you think you're going to leave here with my blessing, you're a damned fool!"
Kusuo wasn't sure if he should be relieved that Makoto was "back to normal" (though an actually normal level of his usual normal) or annoyed that he was going to have to fight him over this.
Of course, Kokomi was worth the fight, but it was all such a pain.
His inner Chiyo cackled. Go for the jugular!
"So, you'd rather have her live with the stigma of being a single mom?"
Makoto's eyes went wide, and his jabbing finger wilted. "E-excuse me?"
"Kokomi is pregnant."
"….." Makoto shook his head. He cleaned out his ear with his pinky nail. "I'm sorry, could you say that again?"
"Kokomi is pregnant." A proud smirk tugged at the corner of Kusuo's lips. "With twins."
"…I see." Makoto looked around the room for a long moment, his eyes lingering on various pieces of antique furniture, a porcelain vase of silk flowers, the ink painted wall scrolls. He shook his head. "We should step outside."
Yare, yare.
For half a second, Kusuo wondered if he should let Makoto get in the first punch—Kusuo had "defiled" his baby sister, after all—but there were too many lingering ill-feelings for Makoto-the-Perve for Kusuo to drop his pride long enough for Makoto-the-doting-brother to feel he'd suitably defended his sister's honor.
"You may not know this," Makoto said as he stepped into his shoes. "But my parents enrolled me and Kokomi in various martial arts classes from the time we could walk. So even though you are undoubtedly more powerful than me, don't think I'll go down without a proper fight."
Considering I could have dropped you with a clip to the jaw at least six times during that monologue alone, I don't think this will last as long as you probably expect.
"What do you consider a 'proper fight'?" Kusuo coated the bottoms of his feet with spirit energy to make up for having no shoes. That's at least one minor benefit of Yusuke's ridiculous training.
"No weapons, no energy. Just two men going at it for the sake of the woman they love."
Yare, yare. Kusuo cringed. Hearing you say that about Kokomi is never not going to trigger my urge to kill you…
Setting his feet in a casual stance, Kusuo raised one hand Rock Lee style and nodded for Makoto to begin. Because while he may not be able to give up a landed punch, Kusuo could at least offer the guy the first swing.
Makoto swung, all right, but his actor's training won over whatever martial arts he'd learned as a child. His fist went wide, his elbow too arched, and even if Kusuo hadn't moved his head, the punch would barely have grazed him. Annoyed, Kusuo dropped Makoto with a single hit to his perfect jaw.
Yare, yare.
Hey, at least he tried.
Kusuo sighed and dragged Makoto inside by the back of his shirt. He was tempted to leave the idiot in a heap on the floor, but this was Kokomi's brother. They would be family soon; Kusuo should at least pretend to want to get along with him.
Kicking the folded futon open into a semblance of made, Kusuo dumped Makoto in the middle, shoes and all, and left without a backward glance.
Kaliea: So, originally, my thought was to have Makoto finally be so overcome by his hyper-exposure to Kokomi's territory that it was he who attacked her and not some rando-on-the-train, but I just couldn't do it. Despite everything, Makoto really loves Kokomi as his sister, before anything else, and I having a big brother, I didn't want to taint that relationship. So instead, we get some context for Makoto's behavior, and as a bonus, you get an explanation for how everyone began thinking of Kokomi as a literal angel. Admittedly, with her territory open as it was, it wouldn't have been very hard for Kusuo's mild suggestion to become what it is in the show since everyone was pretty much enamored with her already. Really, the only think Kusuo did in my story - however subconsciously - was subtly change the way people behave toward Kokomi rather than affect so much how they felt about her. It's my in-fic explanation for why those guys at the beach in Okinawa treated her so crassly and also why Kokomi was so genuinely taken aback by it.
Also, I wanted to fix Makoto and Kokomi's brother/sister relationship because reasons, and I'm the author, so I can ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
