Tokyo Babylon Fan Fiction / X/1999 Fan Fiction ❯ A Perfect Circle ❯ Furnace Sky ( Chapter 16 )

XVI. Furnace Sky

Fuuma was resting his head on his folded arms, ignoring the homely noise of chatter and scraping chairs and half-listening to the TV bolted in the corner above the teacher’s desk. Because of the alleged terrorist bombing at the Diet Building the teachers had unofficially cancelled class in lieu of watching the news reports. About half the class was gathered around the government teacher’s desk to watch, a few intermittently looking over their shoulders and yelling at the other half of the class to shut the hell up and sit down. Their protests were ineffective.

Fuuma heard the door slide open.

“Well, forty-five minutes, Shirou-kun,” said the teacher. Fuuma looked up; Kamui was weaving his way past the standing students and glaring at the teacher in passing, shoulders slumped and fists clenched in his pockets. “I must say that is the single longest restroom trip I have ever witnessed, and I’ve witnessed quite a few.”

“It’s after lunch and I have a fu—freaking hole in my stomach. Give me a break.”

A few of the students flinched. The teacher tapped her pencil against her teeth, obviously not amused.

“Thank you for sharing with the class.”

“No problem.”

“If it’s that bad, you should go to the nurse. And that hole in your stomach never bothered you much until today.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Kamui spun an adjacent chair out and around to face Fuuma’s desk, sitting down heavily in the same movement, arms crossed and slouching with his legs spread. Fuuma leaned on his palm and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Um, Kamui, if you’re really having a problem, maybe you should go to the nurse. Or the hospital or something.”

Kamui pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and tapped the butt of it against the tabletop. He shrugged and made a non-committal noise.

“I mean, forty-five minutes really is… are you losing blood?”

“Would you shut up?” Kamui hissed. “I was on the phone.”

“With who?”

“Who do you think?” Kamui slammed his phone face-first into the table and crossed his arms. “God!”

“I don’t know. Seishirou-san?” Fuuma picked up Kamui’s phone and flipped it face-up in his palm. The pin-dot screen was cracked, and gray-black fluid was collecting along the fracture. “Kamui, your phone is broken.”

“No, Subaru.” Kamui snatched his phone from Fuuma, glared at it, and tapped it on the table again. “I need a new phone anyway. I hope it doesn’t work for the rest of the day.”

“Did talking with Subaru make you this angry?”

“No, genius.”

“Sorry. I just don’t know what’s going on.”

“Hey, guys!” Keiichi pulled up another chair and sat between Kamui and Fuuma, draping his arms around their shoulders. Kamui glared at him. “Do you want to go swimming after school? Sorata-kun’s going to get Arashi-chan to go, and I was wondering if you could get Yuzuriha-chan to come as well.”

“Not today, Keiichi—”

“Come on!” Keiichi shook Kamui’s shoulders in his one-armed grip. “It’ll cheer you up, man! Chicks and surf! We can even take your friend Sumeragi-sempai if he wants to come. He always looks like he needs a little cheering up.”

Kamui groaned and rolled his eyes, pulling away. Keiichi looked at Fuuma, who shrugged and shook his head, mouthing ‘Let me talk to him’. Keiichi nodded and gave Fuuma a thumbs-up.

“Right, so, yeah.” He clapped his hands together. “If you feel like coming, show up on the south side of the Sea by that one veranda-place that sells all the avocado stuff. And, oh, yeah, I’m planning on asking Yuzuriha-chan to the dance; do you think she’ll give me the time of day this time around?”

“How the hell should I know, Keiichi?” muttered Kamui.

“I would have taken something a little more encouraging, but… oh well.” Keiichi clapped both boys on the shoulder and ruffled their hair, standing and scooting the chair back. “I’ll see you two later!”

Keiichi walked off toward Sorata. Fuuma felt his tousled, gel-sticky hair and snorted at Kamui, who was glaring at him with his arms crossed and his already-unruly hair sticking out at odd angles. Fuuma ran his fingers through his hair to tease it back into spikes.

“I’m not fucking going swimming,” said Kamui, absentmindedly running his fingers through his hair.

“What happened on the phone with Subaru?”

“Shit.”

“Oh.”

“ ;God, I’m such an idiot.” Kamui buried his head in his hands and slammed his forehead into the table. “Stupid-stupid-Shirou—”

“Whoa, calm down. What stuff?” Fuuma watched Kamui for a moment. Kamui still had his head face-down on the desk, and he was clutching the back of his head. “Do you guys have a history or something?”

Kamui snorted loudly.

“That’s a ‘yes’… Well, what is it?”

“Um…” Kamui looked up and tapped his fingers on the tabletop, half-staring off into space. “Well. About Subaru…”

Kamui stopped, half-mouthing words and looking up into his brain. Fuuma blinked.

“Yes?”

“Look.” Kamui looked around the room at the students, Keiichi and Sorata of whom averted their eyes and talked amongst themselves as soon as Kamui looked up. “We’ll talk about it later. All right?”

“All right, but… if I may ask now, what happened? You’re acting psychotic.”

“Oh, the talkThose talks.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“Yeah… it went great…”

--------------

The conversation hadn’t gone well.

“Well, where have you been all of these nights? You came home late last night with Monou-san, and you’ve been looking terrible lately.”

“We were just out playing DDR and stuff in Shinjuku, all right?” Kamui shifted his position so that his shoulder-blades weren’t digging into the stall wall and stretched his legs out beside the toilet’s base, half-heartedly noticing that his pants were getting too short and his black-socked ankles were showing. He switched his phone to the other hand. People had been coming in and out of the bathroom for half an hour and finding his position quite amusing, depending on the tone of his voice, either raised, whispered, or meek, given his position in the conversation at the time. “We lost track of time and got… lost.”

“You certainly are spending a lot of time together.”

“Subaru, don’t be a bastard. He’s my best friend and I’ve hardly gotten to talk to him lately. He’s been depressed as all fucking hell, and he’s finally getting well enough to walk around without having a breakdown.”

“I know, but…”

It got quiet on the other end of the line. Kamui waited an uneasy duration for Subaru to speak before clearing his throat.

“Well.”

“Yeah.”

More silence.

“Where are you, anyway?” said Kamui.

“Athens Pavilion.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in econ?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. 221;

Silence. Kamui shifted his weight on his rear.

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting on the freaking bathroom floor in a stall, ditching gov.”

“Do you want to come out here and talk?”

“Can’t leave the building. Students aren’t supposed to really go anywhere right now because of the terrorist shit.”

It was a lie, and right after saying it, Kamui realized Subaru would know it was a lie. Students were given free reign on campus, and the faculty and student body were in such an odd, fixed-on-the-TV mood that he could slip out quite easily. Kamui sighed heavily.

“Subaru, Yuzuriha told me you started smoking again.”

Silence. Kamui cleared his throat.

“Like, right after I saw you on the stairs, and you know that I saw you on the stairs.”

Silence. Kamui sighed heavily.

“Subaru, come on, talk to me.”

“Are you two officially a couple?”

“What? No. Fuuma hasn’t said a word about it. I’m waiting for his response. I don’t know.” Kamui rested his forehead on his hand. “I think I’ve made a huge mistake. I shouldn’t have moved so fast. He probably thinks I’m a loose little player or something. That’s not who I am. It’s… I don’t know. Sorry. I shouldn’t talk about this with you.”

“Well, I don’t know where he would get that idea.”

Kamui opened his eyes and stared at the wall. What in the… did Sumeragi Subaru just sound *spiteful*?

“What the hell is wrong with you, Subaru?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s crap. What’s wrong? Come on, Suub, you can tell me.”

“What do you think is wrong, Kamui?” Kamui went silent and picked at his thin, black shoelaces. I really need new pants. “Look, I just want to know where you stand on all of this. I’m confused.”

“I’m confused too, Subaru.” Actually, no, I’m not. If Fuuma says ‘yes’, I’m going with him. It’s what I’ll do when he says ‘no’ that’s got me.

“Well…?”

“Look.” Kamui cleared his throat. “Fuuma hasn’t given me a response yet, but when he does, I’ll take my next course of action.”

“Which will be…?”

“It depends on the response.”

“Which means…?”

“I don’t know.” What the hell am I supposed to say to you, Subaru? I’ve already set my mind on Fuuma, and, oh, by the way, you know the guy you love most of all? Far more than you could ever love me? Yeah, that guy, well, I’ve become chat-buddies with him, and he’s been acting like the kindest guy alive around me, but he doesn’t want me to even mention a word of him to you. If you could only visit him and have him act to you like he does to me, you’d be the happiest man on the entire planet, but I have to withhold that from you too. Everybody could be happy, and you’d be off my back, and I’d stop feeling so bad about you. You think I WANT to keep that from happening? I’ve got everything you want, but I have to withhold it from you. And I care about you a hell of a lot, Subaru. A HELL of a lot. You’re my best friend. How’s that for confusion?

“Kamui?”

“I’m sorry, Subaru. Look, I’ve got to get back to class.”

Silence. Kamui sighed and checked his watch. He had been in the bathroom for forty minutes. I love having a medical record that says I have a hole clear through my stomach.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Silence. Kamui sighed.

“Yeah. Anyway.”

“How do you really feel about me?”

Kamui groaned and buried his head in his hand. “Subaru, come on…”

------------------

Fuuma walked down the veterinary hallway after the nurse, hands shoved into his pockets and staring at the back of her neck. She was chattering in a rough, rural dialect—about how she was shocked that he could get off CLAMP Campus after the terrorist attack, and, oh, had he heard about that attack, and what did he think? And how scrapping he looked in that adorable uniform, how good young men tended to look in ties and how if she ruled the world, they’d all wear CLAMP Campus uniforms…

“…you’re a fine fig’re of one, too, a big fellow. Only other fellow I know yer size is the doctor. Anyway.” The nurse stopped in front of the office door and bowed to him. “This is the doctor’s office. Lucky fellow you are that he gave you clearance to come back here.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yer’re Monou Fuuma-kun, aren’t you? He described you to all us gals and told us to let you back if you so wished. Just knock before you enter. Now, if you’d excuse me.”

The nurse brushed past Fuuma. Fuuma sighed and knocked on the door.

“Yes?” said Seishirou.

“Pardon the intrusion.” Fuuma slid the door open and stuck his head into the room. Seishirou was leaning back in his chair, looking over the top of a chart and pulling his reading glasses down to get a clear look at the doorway. He was wearing a deep-and-sky-blue suit ensemble beneath his white coat. “Seishirou-san, can I talk to you?”

“Oh, Fuuma-kun! Yes, come in.” Seishirou pushed his glasses back over his eyes and set his chart down. “Back so soon? I thought the campus wouldn’t let you off today.”

“I have ways of getting off.”

“I’m sure you do.” Seishirou laughed and stood. “Are you thirsty? Do you want me to get something for you to drink from the lounge?”

“I’m fine, thank you. I just want to ask a few questions.”

“Ah.” Seishirou sat down. “In a hurry?”

“No, just have a lot of bases to cover today.”

“So you are in a hurry. Well, I’ll try to help you as quickly as I can.”

“Right.” Fuuma took a deep breath. All right, just start. Just like you rehearsed on the JR. “I don’t know quite where to begin, and this is all going to sound weird, but you seem like the kind of guy I can talk to.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Well, I mean, it’s like I’ve known you before, or something. I feel comfortable around you. You see, I have partial amnesia.” Fuuma paused, gauging Seishirou’s reaction. The latter raised his eyebrows quizzically, but remained silent. “It’s like… well, some stuff happened in my past, and most of it’s come back to me, but there’s this big blank spot I need to fill in. I was wondering if you could help me.”

“If I can help in any way, I would be happy to. How did you get amnesia, if I might ask?”

“It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you later. But, anyway…” Fuuma pointed to his right eye. “You lost that in a car wreck, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, seven years ago.”

“Was… anybody you know involved?”

“Just me and myself. I was young and a bit of an idiot at the time. The wreck was my fault. I hit a light pole.”

“I see.” Fuuma narrowed his eyes. Seishirou blinked and tilted his head, slightly amused. For something in his expression, Fuuma half-expected Seishirou was going to tell him to relax, followed by some form of sagely, ‘I-was-once-like-you’ advice. Damn, that smile is so familiar. Who are you? That can’t be right, that you lost your eye in a car wreck. It doesn’t fit. And you would think in a car wreck, you’d get other stuff hurt before your eye. I mean… it’s kind of lodged in your skull; you’d have to have something pointy aimed directly at—

“Well, I was asking because I have a friend who lost that same eye, and he got the same weird fake eye you have. Like, it’s not painted in to look like a real eye, but it’s painted in with a gray circle. Same side of his face, too.”

“Huh. Well, this guy must have the same tastes I do. I had to custom-order this orb.”

“But… huh, this is going to sound weird, but…” Fuuma sighed and leaned forward. “I know you. I know I know you, but I don’t remember from where, or why. I know this all sounds psychotic, but it’s true. Just hear me out.” Seishirou was arching his eyebrows again. Great, he does think I’m a psycho. “I took my friend’s eye because he wished to be just like somebody that he loves, but that who-he-loves part is a big blank. And then you come along, with the same eye punched out, and you specifically told me not to tell that guy about you. You know. Sumeragi Subaru-san?”

“I know of him.”

“Of course you do, you specifically mentioned him. God, you’re so confusing.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Sorry.” Argh, that was rude. “But, yeah. Anyway. It’s like… the way he was feeling about the whole eye thing implied that something more than a car wreck had happened. He felt guilty, like it was his fault. In short, he felt connected in some way. Anyway. Subaru-san smokes Wild 7’s, and I know you do too. And… huh, well, basically, all of the loose ends in my life, all of those things that end in blanks… all of the blanks point to you. I know you’re the guy he used to love. If that doesn’t fit right, I’m going to go insane.”

“I see.”

“I know I know you. It’s driving me insane. It’s just outside my grasp, just like all of those blank spots. There’s another thing, too. I was… I was raped, and that’s another blank spot in my memory. I don’t remember who did it, or why it happened, or hell, given what I used to be, whether or not I consented to it. But it happened.” Fuuma looked Seishirou over carefully. The veterinarian had arched his eyebrows higher in subdued shock. “And I have a feeling that you’re linked to that blank spot too, somehow.”

“That’s terrible. I can’t believe that happened to you.” Seishirou pushed his glasses up his nose and gazed at Fuuma with deep concern, as if he wanted to find the words to say something to make everything better all of a sudden, but was being held back by some deep, secret, past-rooted force. “…I’m sorry, Fuuma-kun. It’s a disgusting breech of the most basic human decency.”

“But, do you know anything about that?”

“I’m sorry to say that I don’t.”

“Ah. Well, if you think of anything… anything at all…”

“I’ll be sure to tell you. I’d do a lot to lock rapists away. The thought makes me sick. You’re holding yourself together most admirably.”

“Thank you. Another thing… I was the leader of a group called the Dragons of Earth. It’s sort of like a cult, if you will, but I can account for five of them in my memory. The sixth one under my command is also a blank spot.” Fuuma thought for a moment. “I know some of the Dragons were good people misplaced in the wrong group, so I was wondering if you were the sixth Dragon. It seems farfetched, and I bet you think I’m crazy, but it was worth a shot. I know you’re the sixth Dragon. I just know it.”

“I see.” Seishirou leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment, staring at the ceiling with the same dwelling expression. He’s intriguing. If only I knew what the hell makes him tick… “…well… what I can tell you, anyway…” He sat up. “Yes, I was a Dragon of Earth. And you were my Kamui.”

“You were?”

“Yes.” He smiled and took a sip of coffee, nodding toward Fuuma in a half-bow. “You were my companion and partner-in-crime, as black-hearted as I was, and eventually we became fast friends and… well, ‘ass-buddies’, I believe the term is. We helped each other torture our pure counterparts and got into a lot of dumb arguments. You should remember me. I used to be your lover and best friend.”

Fuuma gaped at Seishirou, mind reeling. The edges of memories were starting to surge around just out of his reach once again, half-formed with brief flashbacks and images of a dark-haired, smirking man in sunglasses offering Fuuma cigarettes, standing atop a building with him—all disjointed, all hazed and hurried. Fuuma grasped at the brief images and the meaning just behind them, but all slipped out of his grasp like sand. Seishirou leaned forward, furrowing his eyebrows seriously, and stared at Fuuma for a long time.

“…just kidding.”

Seishirou burst out laughing and shook his head as Fuuma’s mind slammed back to earth. The latter slumped down in his seat, growing pale. What is with this guy? What the… what was all of that? Oh God, if I don’t get a grasp on those flashes, I’m going to go mad. They’re going to drive me mad.

“Seriously,” said Seishirou, “I wish I could help you, but beyond being a Dragon of Earth the like of Shiyuu Kusanagi, I’ve got nothing.”

“That wasn’t funny.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m going a bit crazy. It’s the end of the day.”

“But, what about Subaru-san?”

“Ah, Subaru-kun, indeed. Yes, I do have a history with him. An extensive history. And, as before, I have to ask you not to bring that up with anybody, especially him. Someday you will understand, but right now, this is for his safety. I can only implore you to trust me.”

“…just kidding?”

“No, dead serious that time.”

“But it’s driving me mad. You have to tell me something.”

“You will understand with time.” Seishirou walked around the desk to stand in front of Fuuma and placed his hands on Fuuma’s shoulders. “I can only ask you to trust me until then. Please.”

Whatever. You’re nuts. Fuuma stared into Seishirou’s mismatched eyes, scrabbling at edges of meaning behind the false one. What are you hiding from me? You KNOW something you’re not telling me. I know it. “…okay.”

“Good.” Seishirou straightened. “Well, since you’re here, do you want to see a movie or something? I’m almost done with work.”

“I really should get going.”

-------------------------

“Fuuma’s going to be a bit late getting home this evening.” Sorata snapped his phone shut and shoved it back into his beach-bag. “He’s going to see a movie, or something.”

“With who?” asked Kamui.

“Didn’t say. Whoa, look at that sunset. Talk about red.”

Sorata looked up as the monorail whisked down its distant, concentric path. He, Kamui, Arashi, and Keiichi were walking down the flora-edged sidewalk that lead back to the condo. As he and Keiichi were the only ones who had any plans to go to CLAMP Campus’s artificial sea, he and Keiichi were the only ones who had brought sandals and shorts. The other two were clad in damp, sandy uniforms, socks, and leather shoes. Yuzuriha and Fuuma had disappeared as soon as school had gotten out, and nobody knew where they had gone.

“That’s just super,” said Kamui.

“Hey, I think it’s good that he’s getting out on his own,” said Keiichi. “Maybe he’ll stop being so shell-shocked and enjoy life a little bit.”

“You know nothing about Fuuma,” Kamui muttered.

“Would you chill out? I’m not cutting him down or anything.”

“Hey, Keiichi,” said Sorata. “Wait around a while at our place for Yuzuriha-chan. You should ask her out this evening when she gets back.”

“But—”

“No, no, no ‘buts’. You should dive right in and do it. Take the plunge. I mean, I did it with Nee-chan here, and look where it got me.”

Arashi had sped up and was walking well ahead of the group, arms crossed. Keiichi shrugged.

“Right. Sounds great.”

-------------
Now whatcha gonna do
When the planet shifts
Whatcha gonna do
Gonna slit your wrists
Bleed all over the milky way
The stars in your eyes look red today

Cry love, cry love
The tears of an angel
The tears of a dove
Spilling all over, your heart from above
Cry love, cry love [1]
----------------

Kamui could smell that Subaru was smoking as he walked up the stairs. He sighed and threw his beach-bag into his room, then padded to Subaru’s room at the end of the hallway and nudged the door open. Subaru was sitting cross-legged on the carpet with his back to the door, clad only in jeans and socks and meditating, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The ashtray by his knee was littered with butts and ashes, and the air was smoke-logged and a fiery red from the combination of sunset and pollution.

“Jesus, Subaru.” Kamui walked across the room and opened the window. “You’re going to suffocate. Take it easy.”

Kamui turned around. Subaru was staring at him with lidded eyes, exhausted to the bone. He and the room were burned with sunset oranges and reds. Kamui swallowed and perched on the end of Subaru’s bed. Subaru closed his eyes sadly and straightened his back again.

“Beautiful sunsets Tokyo has,” said Subaru. “It’s too bad the colors are so vivid from all of the air pollution. It’s also why the stars twinkle so beautifully. But, then again, sin is the well-spring of power in this city. Nowhere else do people enjoy their decent into sin so very much.”

“Well, ‘the earth is begging for a revolution’.” Kamui laughed weakly. Subaru sighed and remained silent. Kamui waited, staring at him and mentally begging for something to break the tension. Oh, come on. If I can joke about that, you can jolly up a little.

“Uh, I think pretty much anywhere on earth, people can make things pretty damn sinful,” said Kamui. “They are people, after all.”

Subaru remained silent. Kamui cleared his throat. Oh lord. I can tell this is going to be just fantastic.

“Come on, Suub. Talk to me. I haven’t seen you in two days.”

Subaru did not respond. Kamui sighed.

“I broke my phone. Imonoyama said he’d get me a new one. Feel sort of bad about that, though. He’s given me so much already. I think I’m going to get a job.”

“How did you break your phone?”

“I dropped it.”

“You should be more careful.”

“Yeah.” Kamui watched Subaru, shifting uneasily. He wondered if his spine was going to snap under the tension in the room. His back was already stiffening and knotting up. Why does the room have to be so damn *red*? It feels like a fucking furnace in here. I should buy us a huge black candle. Aren’t those supposed to absorb negative energy, or something? I’m going to need a massage after all of this. His thoughts wandered in the direction of Fuuma’s large, strong hands kneading his back, but slammed into a wall. The look on Subaru’s face was enough to make him feel terrible for even thinking about Fuuma in that way at the moment.

“Um, Subaru, are you doing all right?”

“As well as I’ve always been doing.”

“Um. Well, that’s good. I guess. Uh.” Kamui swayed back and forth on his hands. “You missed the beach today. We had a good time. Keiichi and I played volleyball for a while. The food down there’s great. It’s all American-California stuff, for the most part, but you can get teriyaki and ramen if you want it. I liked the burgers, though. Have you ever tried ‘avocado’? It looks like green mush, but it’s actually not half bad. Er.”

“I’ve tried avocado.”

“And you’d look pretty good in a swimsuit, so if that’s what’s keeping you, don’t let it. I mean, you’re shirtless right now, and you look pretty good. The girls’d go mad.”

“Don’t tease me, Kamui.”

“I’m not. Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so hypersensitive!”

“…am I?”

“YES.” Kamui groaned angrily and clawed the air in Subaru’s general direction, as if trying to slam a point into his head. Subaru was still sitting up straight with his eyes closed. “You… arrrrgh! God!”

“You are the one who is overreacting.”

“No, you are! You’ve been pouting for two days! Arrrrrgh!” Kamui stood up and jerked his hands as though he wanted to shake Subaru by the neck. “What the… I’m sorry, Subaru, but I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to say to you. I’m so scared you’re sitting here stewing and thinking that I’m another person like—who likes to abuse you like— I don’t like shit like that! I’m not a player! I don’t like screwing around with you! If I could fix hurting you by apologizing on my knees for days, by God, I’d do it, and lick your shoes and beg your forgiveness and cry and grovel and—”

“Be quiet. None of that is necessary.”

“Both of you be quiet,” said Arashi. Subaru opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder, and Kamui froze, clutching his hair in frustration. Arashi was glaring at them. “Yuzuriha just got home, and she’s upset. The last thing she needs is to hear you two fighting.”

“We’re not fighting,” Kamui and Subaru said in unison.

“Call it what you will. At least, please, keep it down.”

Arashi left and closed the door behind her. Kamui and Subaru looked at one another.

“…it’s all right.” Subaru snubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray and sighed. “I’m used to feeling this pain. There is nothing desirable about me, anyway. I don’t deserve anything else.”

“You know, that’s real mature, playing that guilt card so early. Real nice, Subaru. I don’t feel badly enough, you know, so you need to make me feel worse.”

“You do?”

“Yes! My God, are you blind?” Kamui got on his knees aside Subaru and shook his shoulders. “Why the hell do you think nobody could really care about you, anyway? You think you’re so dark and tragic and flawed and—I don’t know, something that everybody thinks is pure but really isn’t—but I do care about you, and I don’t think you’re trash that deserves to be hurt. I know you’ve got some dark stuff, but you’re for the most part an amazing person, Subaru. I mean, we all do, you know, have some dark stuff, but you control it so well. You’re not deceptive. You just act in such a kind way that everybody thinks you’re just as pure and unselfish as an angel, but you’re a human, and you’ve got wants, and you get angry and jealous, and I don’t know.” Kamui took a deep breath. “Sorry. This isn’t making any sense.”

“No, it is—”

“—but it’s like you think you’re bad because you hide your faults and make people think you’re pure, but that’s not right. I mean, you should be proud of that. You’re not deceptive. You’re not like—anyway.” Kamui swore to himself; Subaru had closed his eyes in pain and looked away. “—sorry, but you’re not. You really are a kind person, Subaru, or as kind as any human being can be. You don’t deserve this, any of this. I’m sick of watching you take shit like this like you deserve it. I’m sorry that I did this to you, but it’s not over yet. Fuuma hasn’t given me an answer yet.”

Kamui took a deep breath, wondering where the hell all of that had come from. Subaru glanced at him.

Oh, my god. NONE of that made any sense. Great job, Shirou. You’ve botched this one.

“There’s still a chance for us?” said Subaru.

“Sure. Yeah. Um, what did Arashi say about Yuzuriha?”

-----------------
Throwning up ashes on the floor
If this is a lesson in love
Well what’s it for?
The heart will remember
The burning fire
The next time you feel the flame
Of desire [1]
----------------------

“I made such a fool of myself.”

“No, no, of course you didn’t, Yuzu-chan.” Sorata was sitting on the floor aside the living room couch where Yuzuriha had collapsed face-down with Inuki in her arms, the latter of whom was licking her face and whimpering comfortingly. Yuzuriha had been bawling when she burst into the house, disheveled and face flushed with running, though she had since calmed down enough to be able to speak coherently. The nice pleated skirt and hooded blouse she had changed into for her outing were rumpled, and her shoes were scuffed.

“But, I mean, I looked like such a little twit, I’m sure, like, ‘Hey, I’m in love with you, and I’ve always loved you,’ but I didn’t know what else to say. I just stood there gawping like an idiot. Oh my god. He probably never wants to see me again.”

“Well, how do you know that for sure?”

“I mean, I hinted at it before, like, I kinda said it, but today for the first time I just laid it out on the table. I’m such an idiot. Oh my god. I’m such an idioooot…”

The last word came out as a whine, and Yuzuriha started sobbing again. Inuki whined and nuzzled her cheeks.

“Here.” Keiichi walked in from the kitchen with a tea-tray and set it down on the floor. He sat down beside Sorata. “Drink some of this. It’s my special secret Keiichi blend. It calms you down like nobody’s business.”

“I love him so much!”

Keiichi blinked and stopped midway into handing Yuzuriha a mug; she had degenerated back into hysteria.

“I looo—ve him so mu-u-u-u-ch! I love him! I love him! I love him!”

Yuzuriha repeated the words in a desperate mantra, a half-hearted litany. Sorata swallowed and picked at the carpet, unsure of how exactly to respond. Arashi walked back down the stairs and sat beside him.

“I told them to shut up.”

“Thank you,” Sorata whispered. He patted Arashi’s hand. Arashi was too focused on Yuzuriha to respond.

“Yuzuriha-chan,” Arashi said quietly, “What happened?”

“He doesn’t love me.” Inuki nudged his mistress supportively as she sniffed and stared over the throw-pillow at the wall. “He… well, I told him how I felt, and how I was sure he was my special somebody, and he said that he only saw me as a daughter. Like, nothing more. And how we never had a chance to have a relationship like that, ever. He was so kind, though. It was like… it was like he was pitying me, like he thought I was pathetic, and it made me sick.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Yuzuriha-chan,” said Sorata. “Come on. Our girl, pathetic? Nobody in his right mind’d think that. It takes courage to admit that you love somebody, and if he doesn’t see that, girl, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“But… no, you don’t understand, it’s like… the way he looked when I told him. It was almost amusement, like he was thinking, ‘Oh, cute little-girl-crush’ or something, but he has no idea… he has no idea… I hate it when adults think youths can’t love just as strongly as they do.”

“Maybe adults just appreciate more how people are able to move on from what they think is ‘true love’,” said Arashi.

“But it’s… I don’t know. I think he doesn’t take me seriously because I’m so young. Like, that’s the only thing holding us back.”

“It may be,” said Arashi. “It just may be.”

“But you don’t understand!” Yuzuriha bit her lip and fought off another sobbing-attack. “It’s… that can’t be right. Love isn’t supposed to know age like that. Love is stronger than that. People just need to free their minds. It’s not wrong. It’s never wrong.”

Arashi, Sorata, and Keiichi exchanged looks. Keiichi sighed and offered Yuzuriha the mug of tea.

“Please, try some of this.”

Yuzuriha sniffed and sat up enough to accept the mug, but only stared into it. She blinked tears into the tea.

“…uh, Yuzuriha,” said Keiichi carefully. “I know it’s wrong and in a perfect world, age wouldn’t count for anything, but… well, for a lot of people, it really does. There’s just… well, some people just feel it’s wrong, like they’re taking advantage of somebody, or they want somebody on their maturity level… it really is a bigger factor than you’d think. That’s just the way it is. Life isn’t ideal. It’s full of stupid stuff like this. People have dumb hang-ups.”

Yuzuriha looked up at Keiichi. “You aren’t supposed to know about Kusanagi-san.”

“I figured it out.” Keiichi smiled sadly and took a sip of his tea. “That whole old classmate thing? Yeah, I knew it was a lie. I’m not as dumb as people think I am.”

“But… no, I can’t just be his friend. I love him more than you have any idea.” Sorata winced; Keiichi drew back and took a deep drink of his tea. Come on, man. Hang in there. We’ll win her over to you. “I’m sure I can overcome this. I can show him that.”

The three on the floor exchanged looks. Arashi sighed and offered Yuzuriha a tissue from the box on her lap.

“Here.”

“Yuzuriha-chan,” said Keiichi, “You should cut bait with this one. Life’s too short to be hung up on something you’ve got no chance of having and will only make you sad while you’re tied to it.”

“Oh, that’s deep,” said Sorata. “I like that.”

“Really? Thanks. It was in my rhetoric paper last semester.”

“And it’s fine rhetoric!”

Yuzuriha moaned into the pillow and twisted it in her fists. Keiichi cleared his throat.

“Which is why… well, this is probably the worst possible time to ask this, given that you’re not in a great mood, but—”

“Segawa,” said Arashi, “You can’t be serious—”

“—would you go to the dance with me?” He thought for a moment. Yuzuriha had gone still and quiet. “…it’s not like I’m asking you to commit to dating me, but give me a chance. See if you like me.”

Inuki looked nervously from his mistress to Keiichi. Sorata cringed; Inuki looked as though he knew that his mistress was about to blow up in some way. The monk placed his hand on Keiichi’s shoulder.

“That probably wasn’t a great idea…”

Yuzuriha scrambled up from the couch and ran upstairs, shoving Kamui and Subaru against the stairwell wall on her way up. Inuki scrambled after her, yapping. Sorata gaped. Kamui and Subaru stared after her for a moment before looking at the three on the floor for an explanation.

“Oh…” Sorata shook his head and waved his hand. “It’s just that Dragon of Earth fellow. The girl just had her heart broken. Don’t worry; she’ll be fine. I think.”

“That wasn’t a good idea, was it?” said Keiichi.

“You are a moron,” said Arashi.

“What?”

Arashi stood, smoothed her skirts, and walked up the stairs, brushing past Kamui and Subaru. “Let me talk to her. You guys stay keep out of the room until I ask for you.”

“What did I do?”

“Ah, nothing. It’s just women.” Sorata sighed and shrugged. “They’re all barking mad. If we had the slightest idea what makes them tick, we wouldn’t make fools of ourselves so much.”

Subaru turned on his heel and walked back upstairs. Kamui stood where he was and blankly stared at Sorata and Keiichi.

“…that’s it.” Kamui walked down the stairs and crossed the room. “That’s it. I can’t take any more of this drama shit. I’m done. I’m leaving. I’m sick of all the relationships and the hurting and the shit and the… shit. Call me when everybody here stops sucking.”

“Kamui, come on—” said Keiichi.

“I’m leaving. That’s it. God, now I know why the earth wanted kill off all the humans. They suck.”

“Uh, Kamui, you don’t have a working phone,” said Sorata.

“I don’t care. I’ll be back. I just have to get out of here.”

Kamui walked into the kitchen. A few seconds later, Sorata heard the screen door slam. Keiichi looked at him.

“What the hell was all of that about?”

“Beats me. I think he and Subaru and Fuuma have some sort of a thing going on.”

“Yeah, I guessed as much. Right. He’ll be fine. He does that sometimes.” Keiichi sighed. “I’ve made a huge mistake, haven’t I?”

“Possibly.” Sorata patted him on the back. “Come on, man. You made a noble effort. Can’t do nothing about it now. The TV’s free. Do you want to play Super Smash?”

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[1] John Hiatt, "Cry Love"