Tokyo Babylon Fan Fiction / X/1999 Fan Fiction ❯ A Perfect Circle ❯ The Hawk's Locus ( Chapter 12 )

Give me something that I need
Satisfaction guaranteed
Because I'm thinking about
A brand new hope
The one I've never known
Cause now I know
It's all that I wanted[1]

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What the hell are you thinking, Subaru? You know that you don't love Kamui. You love Seishirou. No, something is there, I just can't… All right. Think. …you lust for Kamui, you want to drown in him and basically use him, you self-serving, pathetic bastard, but-no, I can learn to love him-I will, if only he'd reciprocate. I'll be free of Seishirou-stop, you want to be free of Seishirou. You know that you do, don't you? You won't care or miss it when it's gone, right?

"Subaru?" Sorata called from the kitchen.

-he's friendship, it's like… I want him, God, I want him, but it's not-yes, yes, it might be, and your heart just might not be free yet to know-it's been a freaking month, Subaru, and you still don't know where the hell your heart is. Why-

"Hey, Subaru? You outside?"

-Seishirou-

Subaru heard Sorata walk toward the screen door.

-if this is just lust, why does it hurt so damn much-when did I get so wishy-washy, anyway? What happened to that love you were sure was there a month ago-was that just because we made out? Did I get a taste for that, and that's all I want now? Heaven knows I've been craving it ever since. My god. I'm so shallow.

"Oi!" Sorata slammed the screen door back against the house.

-I've always been a captive of the sakura, after all-

"Subaru!"

Subaru stared straight ahead, running his fingers along the overlay loops on the sides of the wicker chair arms. He had finally had the bandages around his eye removed to be replaced with a glass eye, and the socket and nerves behind it were excruciatingly sore. -but… NO. NO, you have to break free. You know it. Kamui is your chance. There's a chance there for something to develop-

"…Subaru?"

"…yes?"

"What, are you going deaf?" Sorata stepped onto the patio and clapped Subaru's shoulder. Subaru gripped the chair arms. "It's your day for laundry, Sub. You better get after it. A good pile's forming after the rain yesterday."

"All right. Sorry."

"Hey…" Sorata stood back as Subaru stood, scraping the chair across the wooden deck. "When's the month mark for you going off your smokes?"

"I didn't mark an exact day."

"But it's been, like, a month, right? I mean, you stopped after everything happened, and-"

Subaru brushed past Sorata into the house and slammed the screen door after him. He heard Sorata yelling after him and the door opening and crashing into its frame again. Sure, he had stopped smoking to impress Kamui, but it was so far doing as much good as anything else he was attempting in that area. Aside from the magical benefits, his cigarettes used to give him a calm window in which to contemplate Seishirou, which was redundant anyway given his reason for smoking in the first place and Seishirou's constant residence in his head. Anything triggered thoughts of Seishirou. A lack of triggers in itself triggered thoughts of Seishirou. Subaru caught himself forcing Kamui into his thoughts in place of Seishirou every time the latter subject arose, which was, in the first place, the reason he had started liking Kamui at all.

Well, yeah, you've forced yourself to like him, Subaru. He was your distraction. He was a proxy. He is a proxy. I like how I've been doing it for weeks now and I still dodge that idea; that's really nice. He walked past the open living room door and glared at Fuuma in passing, the latter of whom was in his usual when-at-home location: in the armchair, immobile. He winced at the protest his sore eye-socket gave every time he narrowed his eyes. Bastard bastard bastard die die die die- stop it, you prick. It's not his fault. God, he makes me sick. First Seishirou, now Kamui; how much more are you going to take from me, you bastard? Ehh! Subaru shook his head sharply. Don't-think-don't-think-don't-think-don't-thinkaboutit.Get over it. Woe is you; you made your bed, now sleep in it. God, this is so confusing-either way, he's still taken everything from me. -No, he hasn't.

"Subaru-san?"

Subaru stopped with his hand on the laundry room door handle and stared at Yuzuriha and Inuki, startled. God, you're slipping, Sumeragi. She was right next to you-

"Are you all right?" she asked. Inuki, who had grown exponentially during the month, whined softly and stared up at him. "You seem really off lately."

He thought for a moment and opened the door. "More so than usual?"

"Well, yeah…"

Subaru turned his back to her and stepped in the room to begin sorting clothes. He glanced sidelong when he saw her lean down next to him on his good side and pull darks out of a basket, Inuki by her legs and wagging his tail in concern. The Dragons of Heaven had subconsciously developed the habit of approaching him from his left side so they would not startle him, as he had developed the parallel habit of always being to the right of people, and he appreciated it more than he let on.

"Don't; it's not your-"

"I know it's not. I just feel like helping out. Besides, I want to talk to you."

Subaru turned his head to look at her fully. Yuzuriha was smiling back.

"…about what?"

"You know what." Subaru sighed heavily and turned back to fervidly tearing dark clothes from the pile. "Subaru-san, you know that there are no secrets around here. We all know what's going on."

"Yeah, well…"

"We're all worried, Subaru-san."

"Don't be-"

"We will be! We care about you, whether you see that or not, Mr. Woe-and-Depression-nobody-loves-me. And we care about Kamui-chan and Fuuma-san-" Subaru threw a girl's uniform skirt into the washing machine a bit too harshly. Inuki flinched and flattened his ears. "-and we just want to do what we can, you know? Is there anything we can do?"

"No, Yuzuriha-san."

"I mean, well, Fuuma's a whole different issue altogether, but that's no reason to ignore the fact that you're hurting as well." Subaru shrugged and pulled the detergent box off the shelf. Yuzuriha crossed her arms. "I'm sick of your attitude! How can you be so passive about the fact that you're hurting? It's like you think you deserve it!"

"I've been in hell ever since I fell captive to the sakura. This is nothing new to me."

"Well, guess what? We want something new for you, Subaru-san. And I hate it when you talk like that!" Inuki nuzzled the backs of Subaru's legs through his white coat. Subaru furrowed his eyebrows, mock-concentrating on measuring detergent in the plastic scoop. "And things have been different with you. You're… touchy. You stomp all over the place and slam doors. You're not like you at all. Well, I mean, being 'like you' hurt as well, and we did want a change but… not this! Um. Wait. Look, you're…" Subaru dumped the detergent over the wash load and closed the lid. "…you're changing for the worse, Subaru. You're short and standoffish now. What on earth is going on?"

"At least I feel like I'm alive now."

"What?"

"Nothing." Subaru cranked the control knobs on the machine and started it. The noise reverberated in the alcove. "You said you knew, didn't you? I mean, about what is going on."

"We… do, we think we do, but… we want to know for sure."

Subaru leaned on the vibrating machine, hands on either corner, and stared at the lid. He felt Yuzuriha move next to him. Inuki brushed closer around his legs.

"Subaru-san… we all love you. You know that, don't you? Every last one of us."

"Yes, I know. It means a lot to me. I mean, yeah, even though I don't show it, it really does." Yuzuriha wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her nose in his arm. He stiffened awkwardly, then slowly allowed himself to relax. He could tell that she was wearing traces of raspberry body spray of some sort.

"…I just have a hard time believing that now after what happened to me a long time ago," he said. "It's a long story."

"Well, believe it."

"I mean, it means a lot to me, but-" He sighed. In spite of himself, he felt comforted. I love people who don't make my life complicated. "I don't know. Thank you, Yuzuriha-san. Do you know where Kamui is?"

"Hm?" She released Subaru and looked up at him. "No, he's been out all day."

"I know. You don't know where he went?"

"He just said he had something to take care of. I don't know; he started acting funny after he visited Fuuma-san this morning and stomped out of the house in a huff. I hope he's not getting into trouble. Aoki-san and Karen-san are coming for dinner this evening, and they will want to see him. I'm hoping one of them will talk some sense into him. I don't know. You've been weird lately, Subaru-san, but Kamui's just been plain frightening."

"Did you send anybody to follow him?" Subaru busied himself sorting the other baskets of laundry to mentally dodge forming ideas. He was already nauseated enough. Fuuma, Fuuma, Fuuma, always Fuuma. He wouldn't care if I died. God, this is so fucked up; I don't know if I even really love him, so why does this have to hurt so much?-Seishirou, Seishirou-argh, so it's either one or the other now? Why can't I shut my heart off?

"...Subaru-san? You all right?"

"Oh. Sorry. What did you say?"

"I said 'No, because Hinoto-hime said that we could indulge these whims of his without worry.' I don't know, though. I'm getting a bad feeling from her lately, and Inuki's been acting odd around her…"

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"It is so easy to get people to trust you. All you have to do is listen to them calmly and make sense when you respond…"

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Kamui hadn't been sure of what to expect when he had first visited Seishirou's clinic a few weeks ago, but it was more along the lines of finding Seishirou smirking in his office, leaning back in his chair and swilling wine, than finding a mild-mannered and unassuming man hunched over his paperwork with a laptop running by his right elbow. Even when Kamui had barged into his office amid loud protests from the nurses, Seishirou had just glanced up through his glasses-the wire-framed, more functional-than-fashionable, reading kind, not his usual dark pair-and waited patiently for Kamui to speak, pen still poised over his work. He did not feign ignorance or question, but requested that Kamui shut the door after him and keep his voice down so as not to disturb his patients.

Kamui's first thought on that visit was that there was no way on earth that this man could be a serial killer and a rapist, but he brushed the thought aside, slammed the door, and smashed his palms into Seishirou's desk, yelling in a blind rage. He couldn't remember what exactly he had said, but it had been on the subject of Fuuma screaming all night in his sleep. Seishirou had watched Kamui coolly, maintaining eye contact, which was when Kamui had noticed for the first time, after he had blown off enough steam to notice things coherently, that Seishirou, like Subaru, had trouble focusing his eyes at close range. His glass eye stared straight ahead, but his living, brown eye flickered, and after a few minutes, he sat back with his eyes closed, still listening calmly with no interjection but to remind Kamui to keep his voice down. In spite of himself, Kamui noticed that by the lapse of five minutes he had calmed significantly was speaking in a frenzied whisper. He had also lost his initial inclination to beat the ever-loving hell out of Seishirou once again, but he had also gotten the feeling that if he did, this time, Seishirou would defend himself.

Their four following meetings had followed in much the same fashion, though in the following times the nurses and receptionist had been given instructions to allow him full access to Seishirou's office without obstruction. They at first gave Kamui confused looks, but eventually began to smirk knowingly and allow him passage with sidelong glances to one another. The receptionist even winked at him once and asked him to take good care of the doctor, who they knew was lonely and suffering from something he never discussed in his past. They all loved him dearly and wanted him to find somebody nice, even if they had never suspected that he was gay; they were all young enough and of the temperament to accept this discovery without disgust. Kamui brushed their assumptions off with scorn. It was better to have them assume what they would than speculate further into the matter.

Today was their sixth meeting since their initial conversation on the hospital roof, and Kamui had seated himself in Seishirou's office to wait for Seishirou to return from seeing a patient. He had claimed as a rite-by-passage the heavy, maroon-leather and wood armchair in the corner, and was half-heartedly studying the certificates on the far wall behind the desk and getting an odd-angle glimpse of Seishirou's ludicrous screen saver. It was, of all things, neon-pink pigs dashing across the screen. Seishirou had started snickering over it in the middle of one of their talks, which had sent Kamui into another height of rage at the time over having the matter at hand being taken so lightly. Seishirou had apologized and shown Kamui the ratty, stuffed pig he kept on corner chair. According to Seishirou, Subaru had spent hours trying to win it for him at a matsuri during what Seishirou called "The Year", capitols implied by his tone, and it kept him company when he was left alone with his thoughts.

Under different circumstances, given their talks and Seishirou's overt openness and boyish innocence, Kamui would never have given Seishirou's merits and worthiness of his trust a second thought, which, for somebody who trusted nobody, was a feat. There were times when he left the office convinced that Seishirou was his confidant, best friend, and mentor, but he had started kicking himself soon after and reminding  himself of Fuuma's current state and Subaru's perpetual hellish depression. Nothing could forgive those things, even if Seishirou's intentions were as pure as he had implied. And it was just plain odd that somebody with such a seemingly genuine and gentle heart could be the indifferent, cold-blooded assassin Kamui had encountered in battle before. He had been convinced that Seishirou was the embodiment of pure evil and deception, but when he was talking to the soft-spoken veterinarian he now knew those memories started to fade. They just plain did not fit.

Well, he's either damn good at acting… or, either way, he's just damn good at acting. Oh my god, this is so confusing. All right. Kamui scanned the certificate proclaiming completion of a residency, first class honors, in a local Tokyo veterinary hospital. He heard Seishirou thank a nurse for something and start walking toward the office. Subaru told me he's the master of ultimate deception, and he would know best, but… if that's true, would that backfire? Like, he would deceive Subaru by making Subaru think that the truth had been an illusion all along? And by god, Shirou, that doesn't forgive him for all those people he killed and what he did to Fuuma or Subaru…

Seishirou toed the door open and backed into the room with a stack of charts. He kicked the door closed and dropped the stack on his desk, then nodded and smiled at Kamui. He was wearing green pants and a green tie underneath his coat today, the sort of dress that had shocked Kamui the first time he had seen Seishirou in his work clothes. He used to be sure that Seishirou had no perception of clothing colors beyond black and white, but after seeing Seishirou in a pink suit once, anything else seemed tame by comparison.

"Good afternoon, Shirou-kun." Seishirou sat down behind his desk. "Would you like something to drink? I started making cider with the coffee machine today."

"Tell me, could I just kill you for gross negligence and being a complete and utter idiot, or should I kill you for being a lying, manipulative bastard?"

"I see we're going to cut right to the chase today." Seishirou sighed and cleaned his glasses on his coat, then replaced them over his eyes and settled back in his chair. "What has happened now? How are Fuuma-kun and Subaru-kun doing?"

"You have some real gall asking me that."

"It's never stopped me before, has it? Well, at least we're beyond the 'Don't you DARE speak their names in front of me; you aren't fit to grovel to them, you bastard' stage." He scooted back, opened a drawer above his leg-space, and pulled out a box of Pocky. "Are you hungry?"

"No. You make me sick."

"I am sorry to hear that." Seishirou smiled sadly and pulled the ribbed strip off the top of the box's front face. "I hope you do not mind that I eat. I haven't eaten since last night. I've been up all night nursing a dog who was hit by some idiot driver, and she passed away this morning, so I didn't get breakfast or lunch. Don't tell the girls I'm eating this stuff. They'll get on my case for not eating healthier."

"That's nice; don't care. Look…"

Kamui opened his mouth and frantically thought of what to say. What the hell's the matter with you, Shirou? He's affecting you after all of this? You used to come in here and just speak your mind, and now the cat keeps getting a better hold of your tongue every time you try to start.

"…you've made a huge mistake. I mean, either way, you've either tried to lie to me, which I promise you is a death wish-" He glared; Seishirou blinked calmly and paused in ripping a Pocky packet open. "-or you've fucked up big time, and I'll never forgive you for it. What the hell-how could you even think that you were doing anything remotely good at all? How did you get through college? You're a complete idiot!"

Seishirou pulled a stick out of the package and gnawed on it calmly. "…we've had this talk before, Shirou-kun, and I have explained to you a million times that it was the only way to get Fuuma-kun back. And I have told you as many times over that I researched every other possible solution, but nothing short of ending the war would do it. I have been educated in every form of magic for thirty-two years now, and it took all of my knowledge and string-pulling to find this solution. I regret that I had to result to such a vile practice as rape, but it was that, or a good chance the world would be destroyed and billions of lives lost, and even if the world was not destroyed, there would still be more casualties than have already occurred. Lost, Shirou-kun, forever gone and with no chance at anything, and I believe that a chance at life even with past wounds is better than just dying. Yes, I have done something unforgivable and devastating-humiliating-to your friend, something of the utmost repugnance and evil, but it was a no-win situation. What I did was the lesser of the two evils."

"The lesser of the…" Kamui's voice cracked with impending hyperventilation. "…the lesser of the…"

"Normally you wouldn't let me get through that entire speech without screaming at me." Seishirou arched his eyebrows. "Are you growing more placid, or are you actually growing to trust me?"

"NO! Either way, lying or not, I hate you!" Seishirou nodded, obviously hurt, and concentrated on the foil Pocky packet. Kamui had learned that Seishirou transferred depth of reaction through his eyes, even if he had few facial expressions beyond neutrality and smiling. Did what happened to him do that, or did he used to be more lively? "…I don't want to end up like you. I mean, if you're telling the truth, which I don't assume that you are, so don't get your hopes up, I don't want to end up as pathetic as you. I mean, you're pathetic either way! God!" Kamui jumped up and started to pace. "You're pathetic!"

"Am I really so pathetic, Shirou-kun?"

"Yes! There are no other words to describe you! That's all you are!"

"I see." Seishirou interlocked his fingers over his mouth and leaned on his elbows. "Maybe I am willing to appear that way for the greater good. The world can think what it likes about me so long as I can protect it."

"Oh, get off your high horse!" Kamui smashed his hands into the desk; Seishirou's coffee cup jangled and sloshed coffee across his paperwork. Seishirou shook his head and ripped a tissue out of its box to mop up the mess while Kamui continued to yell. "You conceited, self-serving, conceited-"

"Please keep your voice down."

"-SELFISH-"

"Shhh." Seishirou placed his fingers over Kamui's mouth and pulled them back before Kamui could snap them. "Practice what you preach and consider my patients, please."

"I'll show you practice-"

Kamui punched at Seishirou's face. Seishirou caught his fist, then the other fist Kamui threw after it, and pinned both to the table. Kamui struggled and cursed, seconds from collecting energy in his hands to make Seishirou let go, but Seishirou gave him a wan look.

"Please don't start this indoors. You are here to criticize me, are you not?"

"That's not it-"

"Then don't lower yourself, and you will have an easier job doing it. Listen to me." Seishirou pulled Kamui down closer to his face level, keeping his voice calm. "You talk about being unselfish, and yet you consider the personal tragedy of one person more important than the ultimate tragedy of billions of other human beings. Yes, people, like you, like me, like my girls in the front, like Subaru and Fuuma, but it's just too hard to think about that, isn't it? Just because that person is the most important to you, his ultimate comfort is more important than the fate of the rest of humanity. And don't picture a bunch of faceless, boring people when I say that. Picture real people, fascinating people, with lives and families and love and loss, to whom you can relate."

"How can you say it like that? That's not-"

"Because it's true. And you know why else? I used to be exactly like you. Exactly, so I have a right to say all of this. I understand. You know all I did just for Subaru's sake. It was utterly selfish. I was too weak to let my loved one suffer, and my vision too narrowly trained on him, to have the fortitude to let him suffer through the truth. I sacrificed innocents because of my selfishness, innocents I had to force myself to see as petty and just not-as-amazing as my Subaru so that I could follow through with murder. But yours is in lieu of a much greater, global tragedy. There is nothing romantic about sacrificing lives for the honor and sake of the person you put on a pedestal."

You don't understand. I'm not like that. He took a deep breath. You're wrong. You're a liar.

…no, he's not. He's right. Oh my god, I'm going to start crying again. He cursed violently and swallowed. Shit. Shit shit shit…

"Now…" Seishirou released Kamui's hands, and Kamui staggered back and sat heavily on the floor, burying his head in his hands. Kamui heard Seishirou stand and walk around the desk to kneel beside him. Seishirou smelled strongly of cologne. "I'm sorry that I upset you, but you have a very bad habit of asking what you don't want to know. The problem with me is that I will tell you."

"YOU'RE WRONG!"

"Shhh."

"NO, SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT! THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT RIGHT!"

Kamui clenched his fists and started sobbing, mentally beating himself for turning into a wreck. He hadn't cried in two weeks, and all of the pressure that had been accumulating finally burst. Subaru had been an emotional drain, and Fuuma was acting like a ghost and flinching every time Kamui touched him as though he had been struck. He heard Seishirou slide something off the desktop and opened his eyes as a box of tissues was offered under his nose. He took it silently and ripped a tissue out just to hold it in his lap, crumpled.

Oh my god. Oh. My god. You're crying in front of the Sakurazukamori. In his office. On his floor like a little girl. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were just supposed to come in here, beat the hell out of him, and leave. And now you're LISTENING to him? Just because he's right doesn't mean everything else he says isn't a complete lie. Isn't that being a master of deception? Getting people to trust you? GOD…

"Why did you come to visit today?" Seishirou asked softly.

Kamui sniffed and wiped his nose, then crumpled the tissue again. "…I just… tried to be… nice to Fuuma, like… hug him… and he got stiff like he was disgusted and afraid. Every time I try to touch him, well, not every time, it's like, sometimes…" Kamui sniffed hard and crossed his arms, trying to control himself. "…it's like, if people give him a friend-hug, he's fine, and he smiles, but… I think he… it's like he knows I feel differently… I don't know if I'm looking like a lecher or something, but I'm not trying to be. I'm just trying to sort of tell him… you know, in movements… that I want to be closer. You've made him fucking afraid of that! You monster! He associates it with being hurt!"

"Maybe he's just straight."

Kamui punched Seishirou in the stomach, an attack that was relatively weak given his sitting position and Seishirou's angle. He dully noted that Seishirou's abdomen was flat and hard through his dress shirt and pulled his fist away, sobbing. Seishirou sighed and shifted so that he was sitting with his back to the desk.

"All right, I know," said Seishirou. "If he is not straight, that is going to be something you have to help him get over. It is unfortunate."

"FUCKING-NO!"

"You think I'm happy with the outcome of this? I feel horrible for both of you, but it was this or a worse tragedy. Worse, Shirou-kun. Always think of that. It can always get worse."

"Fuck you! Just… fuck off. You don't understand. Don't preach to me when you don't understand." Kamui sniffed and blew his nose again, realizing that despite the noise he had been making, none of the nurses had come in to see if everything was all right. Sakurazuka must have given them orders to keep out no matter what. Good. "…he's never going to be all right, Sakurazuka. Never. You've fucked him up for life, and you just don't have any idea what it's like, so shut up. I'll never forgive you."

"It was either that, or he would never be himself again, Shirou-kun."

"Whatever. At least as Dark… me…. he was happy."

"Dark Kamui had no emotions."

"Ohhh, sorry, that makes it all better! Yeah, from indifference to pain: that fixes it right up, you bastard."

"…and Subaru has been…?"

"Wow, could we… really not talk about him right now?"

"All right." Kamui noted that Seishirou sounded disappointed. The latter checked his watch and patted Kamui on the back. "You may call me Seishirou, by the way, as I keep telling you. Are you hungry?"

Kamui sniffed violently. He had somewhere rediscovered his appetite, but it was beneath his dignity, such as it was at the moment, to admit it. He stared at his crossed legs. Seishirou sighed and stood.

"Come, I'll take you to dinner. We can talk once you've been fed and watered. I feel as though I owe you at least that much."

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[1] Green Day - "Macy's Day Parade"