Tokyo Babylon Fan Fiction / X/1999 Fan Fiction ❯ A Perfect Circle ❯ Further Pointless Banter ( Chapter 5 )

That Dragon of Heaven wanted to lose his left eye to be just like you. But deeper still in his heart lies his true desire, and you are the only one who can ever give him that…

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"Are you going to tell me anytime soon?"

"Huh?"

"Subaru's true desire that you so claim to know. I must admit that I am curious."

"You would like to know that, wouldn't you?" Fuuma placed his hand on the crepe parlor wall behind Seishirou's head and leaned over him. Seishirou had a cigarette half lifted to his lips. He stopped and watched Fuuma carefully through his sunglasses.

It was their second trip to the building in two days.

"…yes, I would."

"Your web of desires in that area grows more and more virulent." Fuuma pulled Seishirou's sunglasses off and pushed one clip over onto the lenses, delicately chewing on the end of the other clip. Seishirou mentally swallowed. /That's very nice, boy. You can move in the same manner as a stripper if you so wish. Very impressive. So you will do whatever others wish of you, you whore, down to the point of doing nonsense like this. Even if this is starting to bug me-/

"What are you thinking right now?"

Seishirou lit the cigarette and blew smoke into Fuuma's face. "I thought it was within the grasp of your powers to always know what I am thinking."

Fuuma smiled and straightened to escape the smoke. "I just wanted to hear you admit it. Effective defense. Is that why you smoke so much?"

"Don't overanalyze every contingency you encounter. It only makes you look like a charlatan. And I thought we discussed this." Seishirou offered his pack. "Do you care to try one now?"

"No more reserve about offering to minors?"

"I don't care what happens to you, so why should I pretend?"

Fuuma laughed and pushed Seishirou's glasses over his eyes with his forefinger. "So, do I look cool now?"

"You're beyond hope."

"You should talk. You seriously need some new outfits, old man."

"Flamer."

"You should know better than anybody." Fuuma held his arms out and spun around neatly, allowing his leather coat to bell out around his ankles. "There is nothing wrong with having good fashion sense. It is an area in which you could use some advisement."

"I am considered devastatingly attractive, thank you just the same. And I achieve this without spending any time on my appearance. How much gel is in your hair today, anyway?"

"Fuck you."

"As always, darling." Seishirou smirked and flicked ashes over the arm of the bench, legs crossed. /Darling, indeed. The dancing corpse boy. Eyes like a mirror. Damn, he still comprehends far too much for a corpse. He's like a computer./ He took a long drag. /I want my glasses back. You remind me why exactly I never remove them. /

"So that I can't do this?"

Fuuma was suddenly nose-to-nose with Seishirou once again, pulling Seishirou's glasses down the bridge of his own nose. Seishirou watched him calmly and blew a thin stream of smoke right into his eyes.

"I was waiting for that."

Fuuma snorted and pulled the glasses off. He threw them into Seishirou's lap. "Fine. You know I know every wish in your heart anyway. Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"Of course." Seishirou smiled. /You have no idea, you bastard./ "Which is the only reason you comply with me, to fulfill my wish. And in that vein, I have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"Why are you choosing to fulfill my wish even if it means the end of the war and loss for your Dragons of Earth?"

Fuuma paused for a moment. Seishirou watched his eyes carefully. /Wow, the bastard is genuinely thinking for once, not processing. That would be Fuuma coming through. The slight fluctuation of depth, the glassiness-beautiful, so beautiful, Fuuma-kun, stay like that-ah, damn it, it's gone-/

"…shhh." Fuuma held his finger in front of his lips and leaned close to Seishirou's ear. "That is for me to know and you to find out."

"And in effect, your suicide?" Seishirou twitched. Fuuma's breath was becoming hot and moist on his ear.

"As you so eloquently said once, Seishirou, I have no desires of my own."

/Which is why you're just a doll./ "And Subaru's wish?"

"The same." Fuuma licked Seishirou's ear. "For me to know and you to find out."

"…I see." Seishirou clutched the arm of the bench. Fuuma had started to suck on his neck; he was having to try damned hard to prevent any sort of automatic response. He glanced around over Fuuma's shoulder and noted with relief that nobody was watching.

"You're impatient tonight."

"Are you sure that is the correct accusation?"

"What, you are going to say you're doing this because this is what I want, aren't you?"

"You learn fast." Fuuma straightened and ruffled Seishirou's hair. "You're a smart boy."

"Boy. Huh. I'm twenty years your senior."

"All humans are children to me."

"That's cliché."

"As you know, it is not my fault." Fuuma smiled blankly and tilted his head. "I'm just a puppet."

His voice was dripping genuine scorn. Seishirou blinked and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, relaxing against the bench. /Too much damn emotion for a corpse to ever show. Perhaps I'm actually succeeding at this, for once./

"And if you are a puppet, tell me, why do you feel sadistic desire? Why do you get so much pleasure out of torment? That is a very human coil."

"Your coil." Fuuma maintained his faux-cheerful expression. /So fake it's painful. What a bore./ "Taking on what you wish to see in me, to see signs of my individuality. Because that would start to fulfill your wish."

"Of course. Don't we all?" Seishirou sighed, lifted one of Fuuma's hands, and ran gloved fingers over the pentacle glowing across the ridges. "Are you dying, Kamui?"

"Isn't that your wish?"

"And why do you choose me when so many others wish for the same?" Seishirou ran the seam arcing the tip of his gloved forefinger over the paths of the star. It was oddly pleasurable. "Are you showing, heaven forbid, preference? Sentiment? Attachment? Malice?"

/Or is it because this would also fulfill Kamui's wish?/

"Are you asking if I am falling for you?"

"In roundabout terms, yes."

"…fool." Fuuma pulled his hand away from Seishirou's cradle, retrieved the man's glasses from his lap, and placed them over Seishirou's eyes. "I cannot feel any attraction toward you until I die."

"I know that. And my question still remains: are you dying?"

"Hey, onii-san?"

Seishirou and Fuuma looked up. A young girl with static-strung braids and a rather ragged plush frog was tugging on Fuuma's jacket and allowing her weight to sag on his hip as a fulcrum so that she rotated on her toes. Fuuma's smile infused with calculated warmth. Seishirou blinked and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

/Programmed bastard-and who the hell is this?-wait./

"Making new friends, I see."

"I'm a very friendly person." Fuuma gave Seishirou the same blank grin reserved for the young girl, eyes closed, and nodded. The scorn was almost tangible. /You think you're clever, don't you?/ "I met this young lady in Ebisu yesterday."

"Oh, did you, now?" Seishirou leaned forward and offered the girl his hand, sliding into the same form of cynicism so subtly saccharine it seemed genuine. /A paradox in itself, this form of expression. It's so accurate it's a parody./ "Hello, there."

"Sakurazuka-hakase?"

"Ah, that's right. Haruko-san is a patient of mine." Seishirou turned to Fuuma, still smiling warmly and allowing the scorn to settle out of his chest. A child's instinct would be unable to detect the venom. "Haruko is a lovely German shepherd of the Hamano family here. A rather euphonic name, if I do say so myself. I used to sing it to myself while I was working on Haruko. Ha-ma-no Ha~ru-ko, Ha-ma-no Ha~ru-ko," he sang lightly.

The girl giggled.

"Oh, by the way, this young lady is Hamano Kai." Seishirou nodded to Fuuma. "Kai-chan, this is my friend, Kamui."

"We've met." Fuuma knelt down to Kai's level. "How is-"

The frog's face was shoved into his nose.

"Kairu-san really missed you a lot, and he wants to know why you didn't come back to Ebisu after it was destroyed. And he wants to know how you knew it was going to be destroyed."

"He's a very bright frog." Fuuma pulled away from the plush face and patted the frog on the head. "I knew that from the moment I met him."

"He's very bright, like me." Kai walked around Fuuma and pulled herself onto the bench next to Seishirou, swinging her legs. Fuuma straightened and sat next to her.

"Well, this is a fortunate coincidence, seeing you here. Is your mother here to get something?"

"Just ice cream for my sister. She's in the hospital right now."

"Oh, really? That's a shame! What happened?"

Like you give a damn. Seishirou maintained his warm smile and extinguished his cigarette on the bench arm. /You really are an elegant piece of work; such smooth transition to fit the demands of your environment. Well orchestrated organic machine. Too bad you can't think for yourself./

"She was hurt in an earthquake, but she's going to be all right!" Kai clutched the bench on either side of her legs and swung the latter more enthusiastically. "She'll be let out soon, but since hospital food is yucky, we're here to get her a treat. She said that she wanted chocolate ice cream, but I like mint better. What kind of ice cream do you like?"

"I prefer vanilla," said Seishirou. "Something about the way that it melts pleases me."

"Melted ice cream? Yuck…"

"Really?" Fuuma grinned back over the girl's head. "I prefer pistachio myself. It is rather nice to get to taste nuts for a change."

/…that was… terrible…/

"EW. I hate nuts. They're nasty."

"It's something that you grow into. Like carrots and sashimi," said Seishirou.

"I like sashimi!"

"Oh, do you, now?"

"Yup!"

"Would you like to see a trick?"

"Sure!"

Seishirou removed his glasses, closed his eyes, pressed the crook of a gloved finger against the lids enclosing his right eye, and pushed a marble eyeball through the lids and into the crux of his hand. He opened his palm under Kai's nose. Kai shrieked.

"It's all right. It's a prosthetic eye. I lost my real eye years ago."

"…wow." Kai stared at the marble eye in fascinated horror. "What happened? Were you in a wreck?"

"I lost it defending somebody." He tossed the eye and caught it, still watching with one socket screwed shut. "See, it gets hard to do things like that and still catch things. When you have two eyes you get a sort of difference in perspective that overlaps to give an accurate picture. But one eye only allows you to see things from a skewed standpoint. I see my hand missing the ball until it actually touches my hand again."

"Oh."

"Do you know what that means?"

"…I think so…"

"Two perspectives make for a more accurate picture." Seishirou pushed the eyeball back into its socket, blinked several times to coat it with tears, and settled back against the bench. Kai was still watching him in awe.

"…you didn't really do that."

"Yes, I did."

"Nuh-uh. You can't do that."

"Oh, he can." Kai looked over her shoulder at Fuuma before straightening her alignment with the bench so as to be able to watch both men. Fuuma carefully lifted the frog out of her arms and sat it on his knee. "He can do many things. He's an illusion master."

"An illusion master?"

"It's sort of like a magician." The frog flopped forehead-onto-knees; Fuuma straightened it back out into an upright slouch. "He can make things seem real that aren't really there."

"Ooh. What kind of things?"

"Everything." Seishirou leaned close to Kai and lowered his voice to a secretive level. "From doves to emotions. But do you know what gives illusions their power?"

"…you?"

"Not me alone, but the hearts of people in general. Let me tell you a secret. Do you want to know a secret?"

"…sure."

"If you control the hearts of people, you control everything. Them. Isn't is easier to control somebody who wants to help you than to control somebody who fights you?"

"Well… yeah. Duh."

"You're a smart girl. But sometimes it's the simplest things that the smartest people miss. They're too wrapped up in the details to see the big picture right in front of them. It's self-induced autism. That means, basically, that sometimes all you have to do to see a solution is step back and allow your intuition to flow. Intuition is only the process of making loose associations between the whole picture of events to determine patterns. It isn't as mystic as people seem to think it is."

"...I thought only women had an Intuition."

"People can be wrong, you do know."

"But… wait." Kai thought for a moment and swung her leg thoughtfully. "…can you make anything real?"

"Well, that depends on your definition of 'real'."

"Don't get wrapped up in the details," said Fuuma.

/God damn you./ "He's right, you know. See? Even I do it a lot."

"You must be smart!"

"Not very." Seishirou laughed warmly and thought of creative ways to string Fuuma from a ceiling fan. "People do that to avoid a question, if they don't really understand it. They go off on a detailed tangent. It takes much more intelligence to look at a whole picture of details and how they relate than just one detail."

"As our friend so graciously demonstrates."

/THANK you, asshole./ "But to answer your question… everybody can. It's just a question of what you want to create."

"Or what you're brave enough to create." Fuuma gave the frog one last pat and set it on the girl's lap. "Illusions can only hurt you if you once believed they were real and they disappoint you, the same way that lies can, but you can get over the illusions and the lies themselves. It's more the fact that somebody can only create illusions that hurts people. That somebody would obscure the truth."

"…huh?"

"But real things-real things can hurt you in so many other ways. They're more subtle, but they hurt the longest. Beneath the extravagance and flashing lights of illusions they seem to pale, but in truth they are the survivors. They are the silent-but-deadly things illusions try to hide. The things people try to hide with silence and illusions."

"…okay."

/So we're back to catering to me, I see./ Seishirou replaced his glasses over his eyes and smirked to himself. /Very true, half-sided and incomplete, but true nonetheless. Only seeing through me since I want somebody as reliant upon a fabricated persona as I am not to serve a threat and yet provide companionship without the dangers of having to place my damned human heart on the line. Somebody who also lives off of the delusions he places upon himself. Without that downfall. Somebody programmed not to acknowledge his own emotions. Somebody so aware of the potency of truth in harbingering his downfall that he refuses to acknowledge it lest he ceases to exist. Somebody that hollow. But your wit is about as long as your dick tonight; I do believe that your immaculate shell is cracking. You were far more mature and utterly brilliant yesterday. This petty nonsense you spew right now is adolescent trash./

"Perfect." Fuuma grabbed Seishirou's hands; Kai leaned back on her arms to make space. "Let's get married."

"…what?"

"We can live within your security blanket of illusions forever, and you will never have to gamble anything real. You can believe what your heart most desires is possible and never have to face reality. And I must say that the other-benefits-" Fuuma leaned close to Seishirou's ear, "-will be rather worthwhile-"

"The perfect drug?"

"As you know best."

"Drugs are bad," said Kai. "Um… hey…" She wove up under Fuuma's arms and glanced from him to Seishirou. "Are you guys… um… you know…"

"Everybody is, really. You just choose whether or not to acknowledge it." Fuuma straightened, glossing his expression perfectly once again, and ruffled Kai's braids. "So no, I'm not gay. I'm bisexual. So is Seishirou."

"…oh… um… my uncle is gay."

"Good for him." Seishirou pulled another cigarette out of his pack and lit it. /I'm turning into a chain smoker. Delightful./ "Don't listen to him. Most people in the world actually prefer either one or the other. Believe it or not, despite what manga may lead you to believe, there are actually people out there who don't like the same sex at all. Most people are that way, but more aren't than you would think. It's all chemical and biological."

"…boys are gay."

"Yes, they are. And they will continue to be so." Seishirou tapped ashes over his finger and smiled. "People in general are 'gay'; women can be just as bad in different ways."

"But boys are just gay."

"Yaoi fangirl?" asked Fuuma.

"Silencio, genius. Your interpretation circuits are shot." /In so many ways. One more night ought to push him over the edge./ He blew smoke in a thin stream over Kai's head. "Anyway, yeah. Just don't turn into another one of those trendy students who tries to delude herself into alternate sexuality to seem deep or open-minded. You cannot control how you feel."

"Same way that smoking is bad for you?" said Fuuma.

"The very same way, yes."

"FUUMA?"

/...perfect…/

The triad looked toward the back of the building. Kai leaned forward on her arms and swung her legs more heavily to maintain balance. The frog slipped off of her lap; she scooped it back into her arms before it could hit ground. Seishirou kept his hand slid over the back of the bench and watched over his shoulder. He hissed smoke through his teeth and watched the two newcoming figures - one lithe and dark, the other seemingly more accustomed to belong in sunlight - through the pearl-gray smoke undulations, the flow akin to pouring oil into water.

Fuuma watched them levelly, computing his next façade and adjusting so as to best serve to the tastes of all parties present, seemingly testing the delicate and dynamic mental lattice webbing the air, smiled, and bit the side of his finger thoughtfully. Seishirou resisted the urge to roll his eyes, pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and stood with Fuuma. Kai stood and hid behind Fuuma's leather coat skirts.

"Shirou Kamui, isn't it? And this must be your friend, Segawa Keiichi."

"You're Sakurazuka Seishirou, aren't you?"

"Yes."

/Great, he's pissed./ Seishirou loosened his hips and drifted his hand toward his pocket, actions well concealed in the drape of his coat. Gloved fingers crooked around the deck of cards in his pocket, ran along the edges briefly, and came to rest with palm against the flat of the card deck. The ever-present mask ghosted from the slightest flicker of irritation to cynical good humor. /He's too wired to notice anything; he's leaving himself wide open. He's telegraphing all of the moves that he wishes to take, everything he wishes to do to me. He wants to run to Fuuma and beg. Such a simplistic, emotional wraith. So, this is the form that casts the puppet's shadow-/

"What the hell have you done to Fuuma?"

"I beg your pardon, young man?"

"YOU HEARD ME! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO FUUMA?" Kamui made a lunging step in attempt at intimidation, not intending to charge but wishing to telegraph that he was in a right state to do nothing but charge and rip Seishirou apart with his bare hands. Keiichi made a half-hearted movement as though about to catch him, but also sensed the falsehood of the action; he stepped back and prepared to catch Kamui when the time really did come for him to make a move. He looked dead awkward and confused, divided between hauling Kamui down the street and back home and allowing him to get the steam out of his system.

"IF YOU EVEN TOUCHED HIM, YOU BASTARD, I SWEAR TO GOD-"

"You'll do what?"

"I'LL-" Keiichi reached for his shoulder; Kamui whacked his hand away and stepped forward again. "I'LL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF, I SWEAR TO GOD. I… I saw what you did to Subaru. I don't care if he loves you; that's his business, whatever, but I swear to god if you hurt another one of my friends… if you EVEN TOUCH FUUMA I SWEAR, BY GOD--"

"And is 'Fuuma' really any different than I am?"

"He-THAT'S NOT FUUMA." Kamui started coughing violently. Keiichi caught him under the arms and allowed him to curl slightly against his chest. Kamui struggled and stood upright in the embrace. He shook his hair out of his eyes. "That's a monster! But it's Fuuma's body, and Fuuma is in there; I know he is. And if you touch that body… if you harm that body, if you in any hurt the Fuuma that is in there… I'll kill you. With my own hands, I will kill you, for Subaru's sake and my own. For Fuuma's sake as well. You have no right to touch that body."

"And I assume that you think you know what exactly is happening, do you?"

"I… I've met you, remember?" Kamui struggled fitfully against Keiichi's grip and numbly listened to whispered words of calm. He thought for a moment and took several deep breaths, allowing his weight to further sag against his friend. /He's fighting to keep control of his power lest he shocks his escort. He assumes too much of us to do the same in return./ "We met; you attacked me, and Fuuma, and Kotori way back… Fuuma saved us, somehow, he had this power…" He looked at Fuuma and noticed the girl standing behind him. "Who is that girl?"

"This is my new friend." Fuuma crouched and lifted Kai onto his shoulder, then turned around and smiled disarmingly. Kai set the frog on her head and watched with rapt interest. "It would be a shame to start anything in front of her, now wouldn't it?"

"Hiding behind a little girl? That's sick, man."

Fuuma looked at Keiichi and nodded in good humor. "Life is rather sick and weird. I find it no more honorable to hide behind a friend who feels obligation to hold you back."

"…you know nothing." Kamui dropped his gaze for a moment, taking deep, ragged breaths; Keiichi whispered a desperate request to mind his health and allow the issue to lapse. He closed his eyes briefly and looked back up at Fuuma. "Look, just… let the girl go; stop it. We'll leave for now."

"Why the sudden calm? What do you fear discovering?"

Kamui looked down and slackened his shoulders; Keiichi readjusted his weight. Fuuma shrugged and scratched Kai atop the head. "I think you know more than you already wish to know."

"But who…?"

"Who has that power?"

Seishirou watched Kamui with mild distain and turned his attention to Fuuma, who was maintaining an immaculate, loving, sadistic farce. He sighed, smiled to himself, and extinguished his cigarette against the wall. Kamui looked up at him. Seishirou gave him a small wave and nodded.

"Hi there."

"…hi…"

/Something incredibly sadistic. Something incredibly disgusting. Oh, the sacrifices you make for this sort of manipulation, Seishirou. He walked to Fuuma and carefully lifted Kai to the ground. Let's keep torturing myself. Let's keep testing myself. Let's see how long until I crack-/

He ran the tips of gloved fingers along the muscle sloping up the side of Fuuma's neck and glanced over his shoulder. Kamui's expression was appropriately horrified, so very open and unhindered, the first stages of shock not so much from being blindsided but from an expectation actually being fulfilled so suddenly-

/--until you lose, until you give in to yourself. Until you actually start to enjoy-/

Keiichi's shoulders slackened in shock-

/--until the taste gets addictive and reminds you of how it feels to be alone-/

Kisses were always this sadistic.

/--until you want it to be otherwise. You broken, pathetic man./

/--You're only human, after all.--/

Seishirou bit Fuuma's tongue harshly. Fuuma laughed into his throat.

/--You lose sight of the small things. You think you're the acceptation to the rule.--/

/--you can't understand./

/--You're right. Because I have no will of my own to conquer.--/

/--it can be a curse./

/--And aren't you the weak one for running?--/

/--never. I'm running headlong into the fire and coming out unscathed. Consider this test a side-experiment-/

/--Do you really get that bored? Or do you just need something to fulfill yourself?--/

/--you know there is far more to this than that./

/--You're right.--/

Seishirou released Fuuma and whirled into a fighting stance, whipping a fan-array of scrolls out of his pocket and throwing them past Kamui like darts; he blocked Kamui's reckless punch and threw him shoulder-first into the wall with a sickening crunch and a scream. The scrolls melted into ragged, carrion crows and raised a primordial circle around Keiichi. Kamui gave a half-breathed cry of pain and pulled himself upright against the brick wall.

"Do you really want to start this here?"

Kai had long since dashed to the bench and watched her new friends kiss with a mixture of disgust and fascination, holding the frog close to her chest, and now huddled against the wall with the effigy clutched close to her collar. She slid down the wall and watched the ensuing events behind her knees. The door to the crepe parlor burst open; her parents, along with the profusion of people who had been waiting for the late night's last confections, and the employees, were crowding around the door. Seishirou watched her and the crowd with satisfaction. Keiichi was ducking and shielding his face with his forearms, watching the carrion warily and circling, searching the ground around him for any potential weapon. /Perfect. Hotheaded though he is, Kamui won't start anything here without a spirit shield. This will be over in a moment. I want to go home./

"…all right." Kamui hauled himself up with his fingernails against the harsh brick and leaned flat against the wall, hands splayed and shoulders hunched. He gave a small cry as a broken shoulder blade settled. "…not here, not now. Just… by god… I swear to god…"

"You've spoken your piece."

"I will hunt you down. I will kill you. I will not sink to your level and give you everything that you deserve… but…" He gasped and cried as the bones grated together. "…I guess, for Subaru-san's sake, I will kill you silently. Only for his sake."

"You're a good man." Seishirou gave Kamui another small wave and a nodded bow. The carrion hovering around Keiichi's protective form snapped into fluttering black paper, drifting to the ground as so many discarded, flapping wings. Keiichi straightened and looked around. "It is far more than I deserve." He pointed to the backs of his hand and smiled. "Sleep well, Kamui-kun. Don't go blind."

Kamui glared at Seishirou and collapsed against the concrete, mustering nothing but pure venom and hatred. Seishirou could sense the calm he was trying to send to his own heart, a sort of deadened response he had learned since the turning point in his destiny. /It really is quite sad, the way he has turned out. The sort of soul whose only repose is a self-induced sedative fabricated to cool the heart in times of trial. /

/--We are the hollow men, aren't we?--/

/Something you would be familiar with?/

/--It is less painful to freeze the heart then allow it to feel. Kamui is in a state of limbo. Healing means leaving Fuuma abandoned.--/

/Amazingly trite. Remind me to fix you when I get the chance. You are starting to bore me./

/--You might as well finish the job. This is what you wanted.--/

/But the process is rather boring. I am going home. Don't follow me./

/--Even if deep down you want me to acknowledge your most vulnerable moments.--/

/Silence. Good bye./

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"Wheeew… that was close…"

Sorata sighed and straightened from a fighting stance he had assumed upon reaching the roof of the crepe parlor. The Sakurazukamori's birds had melted into something relatively benign, and the bastards were leaving in separate directions. At least Kamui was not going to have to fight them this evening; he had arrived too late to be able to aid him. Keiichi was already helping him down the street and warding off questioning locals.

/Keiichi has it covered. Sorry, Kamui./ He jumped to the next building. /I have to find Yuzuriha-chan./

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