"Subaru," said the Seventh and last Seal. "Mornin'."

Seishirou noted the casual tone, "Subaru" rather than "Sumeragi-san". He was struck also, at this close range, by the similarity between "Kamui" and the boy Subaru had been, so long ago. A delicate build, gentle features, huge violet eyes that would have brimmed with innocent emotion, had they not been so marked by the tragedies that surrounded his singular existence. Very much the same... and something in that gaze, guarded though it was, suggested to Seishirou that this commonality had forged some kind of bond between the Sumeragi and "Kamui". In light of this, he let the expressionless mask of the face he now wore soften slightly.

"Good morning, Kamui." He spoke with Subaru's customary politeness.

"You going to breakfast?" Kamui's tone said that Subaru did this only rarely, an impression which, given the visual evidence, Seishirou found very likely.

Any answer Seishirou might have made was overridden by a sudden, savage growl from his long-suffering stomach, a protest of considerable volume and length. Kamui's eyebrows shot up, then he laughed aloud, doubling over with mirth.

"...sounds like... a yes... to me..." he managed to gasp out finally, both arms wrapped around his abdomen. Seishirou maintained an attitude of stiff dignity. He could not bring himself to blush and stammer as Subaru might have done. Presently, Kamui got a handle on his hilarity and gave an apologetic grin.

"Sorry, Subaru... it's just that... you guys are always telling me I should eat more!" His words were punctuated by snickers.

Seishirou let his expression mellow once again. "You're still growing, you know. It's good advice."

Kamui shrugged, the gesture expressing a vast disdain for the advice of others. "So let's go." Suiting action to words, he started walking. Seishirou followed, doing his best to appear familiar with the surroundings, absorbing what he saw for future reference.

He pondered the significance of that little episode, just now. He doubted Kamui would have acted so with any other. The slightly hysterical quality was probably a result of the tremendous strain Kamui operated under, which would find outlet wherever it could, but the laughter had had its roots in affection. He wondered just how deep the relationship ran, and what might have happened to precipitate it, a crystallization of friendship from the pain dissolved in both their souls.

It did not seem to be a lovers' relationship... Though Kamui certainly was pretty enough, as lovely as Subaru had been (and remained), Seishirou did not receive the right bodily cues from him. And Subaru, of course, was still hopelessly sexually repressed. He'd noted that at the fight at Nakano Sun Plaza, when Seishirou had seized the hand that proffered the lighter, and brought it to his lips... Subaru might have acquired a defensive shell against the world, but he would never have one against Seishirou himself. At that brief caress, the Sumeragi's eyes had widened, his breathing had caught; the pulse beneath Seishirou's fingers had stumbled, then sped furiously.

Ah, Subaru... You are so completely mine, thought Seishirou now, as he had then. Heart and mind, body and soul, I have marked you too deeply for you ever to be free. All mine. The thought filled him with a sense of relish, and he felt the grin surfacing again, vulpine and irresistible.

Kamui whirled on him just as he's smoothed the grin down once more, and Seishirou sternly reminded himself that he'd best try harder to keep it there. The younger boy's stare could have bored holes through rock, but slid harmlessly off the viridian stillness of Seishirou's eyes, Subaru's eyes.

"Is something the matter?" inquired Seishirou.

"That's what I was gonna ask you," replied Kamui. "Are you all right, Subaru?"

"What do you mean?" Seishirou affected an innocently puzzled frown. "I think so."

Kamui regarded him narrowly for a moment, but relented. Seishirou gave him a small, reassuring smile.

"You just seem... kinda... " The Seal trailed off, shook his head. "I dunno. Just different from usual, somehow. I can't pin it down."

Seishirou was saved from having to fabricate a reply by their arrival in a large dining room, at the center of which was a table of a similarly grand scale. Seated at this table were three of the other Dragons of Heaven, as well as Nokoru and his henchmen. There was currently some commotion going on, centering on Arisugawa (who, with no regard for personal safety, had seated himself next to Arashi). From his anguished cries, expression of pain, and the glare directed at him by the priestess of Ise, it was obvious that he had committed some indiscretion, and was now paying for it.

"It was a perfectly innocent mistake! I swear it! Ohhh, my arm, that's my arm of power you know, now how am I gonna -- oh, hi Kamui." His expression went from extreme agony to genial greeting in the space of an eyeblink. "And lookit what he found!" He gave Seishirou a jolly wave, his grievous injury having miraculously vanished.

"Sumeragi-san," said Nokoru, "this is a rare honor." He smiled gently. "Please, have a seat. There is rice and miso soup, as always, and today we have blueberry pancakes, honey ham, biscuits, and Akira's famous omelettes... " This last brought a type of cheer from the table in general, and Akira blushed but smiled contentedly. "But if that's not to your taste, you can have the kitchen staff prepare something else for you."

Seishirou inclined his head, Subaru-style, in acknowledgement. "Rice and miso soup will be fine," he said. He seated himself across from the quarreling progeny of the cloister, next to the youngest of the Seven Seals -- Nekoi Yuzuriha.

"Good morning, Sumeragi-san!" she chirped, with a pert, irresistibly cute smile. He gave her his best imitation of a Subaru smile, the small and somewhat wistful smile he'd been wont to give ever since a certain day, nine years ago.

"Good morning." Seishirou saw no sign of the inugami that was normally never far from its mistress. He had been mildly concerned that the dog spirit would sense that something was amiss; its spiritual senses were every bit as keen as the physical senses of the animal from which it was derived.

"Inuki's scouting the perimeter," Yuzuriha said, as if reading his thought, or merely his glance.

"Ah." Seishirou helped himself to his rice and miso soup, these having appeared almost miraculously before him, so inobtrusive were the serving attendants. The rice was fragrant and tender, the soup velvety smooth and tasty, the steaming mug of green tea flavorful and not at all bitter. In fact, it was probably the best damned traditional breakfast he'd ever had.

"There is some kind of fluctuation in the energies surrounding this house," said Arashi. "Inuki is assisting me in attempting to pin it down and repair it."

"A fluctuation? Ah. I thought I felt that something was wrong. Just vaguely." Seishirou glanced at Kamui, who had seated himself in the neighboring chair to the right. He saw one of the countless tensions in the boy's face relax slightly. Good. Hopefully any slight lapses in Seishirou's performance would be attributed to off-kilter energies. Not that anyone could jump to the correct conclusion from a standing start, but it was best to be careful.

As he finished his scant meal (which was surprisingly filling -- supporting the probability that Subaru did not eat anywhere near enough), Seishirou pondered his course of action. He knew very well that Subaru was on his way here; it was only logical that if Subaru had awoken in Seishirou's body, then Seishirou himself had to be occupying Subaru's own. He also knew that Subaru was almost completely lacking in cunning and subtlety. He really would not be surprised if Subaru showed up at the doorstep, Sakurazukamori suit and all, demanding an explanation while in the guise of one of the Seven Seals' most fearsome enemies.

Seishirou finished his tea and rose from his seat, murmuring his thanks for the meal. Nokoru and Akira beamed at him. Seishirou excused himself and made his way back out of the immense dining room, aware of Kamui's gaze on him as he did so, following him across the room's expanse and out the door.

Out of sight, Seishirou smiled to himself, not a pleasant smile. He doubted that either Kamui or Subaru would notice what he had noticed, both of them being so absorbed in their separate, personal worlds of pain and loss... but it was there, at least on the part of the younger and most powerful Seal. Those intent violet gazes, the small gestures that invited closeness, and the odd, barely noticeable but definitely present tension... They added up to one thing, something that Subaru would never comprehend, something Kamui would never admit. Something that perhaps only Seishirou, with the intimate knowledge of his long acquaintance with Subaru, would pick up... It seemed that knowing Subaru so well had in fact given him a foothold in comprehending Kamui, who was so very like the young Subaru, though seen through the lens of a more bitter existence.

Kamui... a sweet young boy, an appallingly lovely, horribly powerful child --

Who was suffering a nascent attraction to Sumeragi Subaru.

Unfortunate, as the Sumeragi was already clearly and ineradicably marked as belonging to Sakurazuka Seishirou, a trophy of the Cherry Tree Barrow Guardian. Personal Property. Trespassers will be Prosecuted. Seishirou might not capable of love, but he was quite capable of a sense of possessiveness. If another were to horn in on his territory, he might have to do something... drastic. Possibly uncivilized.

With that thought lingering pleasantly in mind, Seishirou began to make his way back to Subaru's room, a nicely private spot from which to gently probe the wards surrounding this place from the inside, potentially a very useful thing. From without, he had investigated the complex, multilayered defense system any number of times, seeking out possible weak spots. There had, of course, been only one.

Sixteen years ago (had it been sixteen years?), the body of a young onmyouji had received the stigmata of the Sakurazukamori -- the inverted pentagrams signifying that possession had etched themselves into the very flesh, limned in blood, at the caress of 18-year-old Sakurazuka Seishirou's lips against the tiny hands of 9-year-old Sumeragi Subaru. From that moment hence, an arcane bond had linked the two of them, beyond the ties of two traditionally warring families, beyond the natural bond between equals and opposites -- a fundamental tenet, the cornerstone of their shared Art and way of life: onmyoujutsu, the Art of Yin and Yang. That tie, that linking of Power to flesh, had given Seishirou a peephole into the intricate web that surrounded the compound of the Dragons of Heaven. Only a peephole, but any advantage one could get in this war of destiny was a thing to treasure. And now, from within the perimeter, he could analyze their defenses even more thoroughly, perhaps set some kind of counter-harmonic to be activated when the time was right, a crack in the shield.

Seishirou's memory was of course excellent, it had been trained to be thus. So it was that he arrived at the room without a missed turn or mistaken direction, these being very common occurrences in the massive building. He opened the door, entered --

And came face to face with himself.

Entry into the Imonoyama mansion had been very easy -- tailored to recognize Subaru's engrams, his psychic "fingerprint", the wards had been simple to fool. The body he was in should have presented more difficulty, but to Subaru's othersense the shimmering harmonics of the priestess's wards had been somewhat off, not aligned with their normal precision, confirmation that Seishirou's essence had at least been here. The whorls and eddies marring that neatly laid psychic lattice were evidence of his soul's passage. With a bit of metaphysical misdirection, Subaru himself slipped through the wards silently, triggering no alarms.

He moved stealthily through the mansion's endless hallways, carefully avoiding the paths of others when he could. When he could not, a swift touch of power blurred his presence slightly, causing it to slip from the minds of the household staff like raindrops from a pane of glass. He was not out of place at all, there was nothing unusual in his being there; he was promptly forgotten.

It was normally a simple spell, as was the minor manipulation he'd used on the wards, but neither had come as easily as they should have. Subaru's guess was that the energy channels of this alien body were unused to responding to his particular mode of thought. A mantra or gesture might serve as a focus, but it was an onmyouji's disciplined mind that truly created the spell, shaping the energies of body and environment to its will. A practitioner was taught how to best utilize these energies, to find which modes of thought brought the desired response.

Subaru privately doubted his forebears had anticipated this particular eventuality. He would be assailed by inefficiencies, a victim of his unfamiliarity with this body and its currents. His only comfort was that Seishirou would suffer the same difficulty -- a sensation not unlike wearing ill-fitting shoes, a feeling of being hampered in something that normally came as easily as walking.

After an interminable length of time spent creeping through the vast halls, Subaru finally came upon his own room. He stretched his senses as far as he could, physical and metaphysical, but felt no presence behind the closed door. He entered, closing the door behind him.

The bed was made, neatly but not with the mechanical neatness of the mansion cleaning staff. Subaru himself only made the bed in the most cursory manner. He saw that his clothes had been rummaged through, but saw no sign of disturbance anywhere else -- for instance, the high closet shelf where he kept his writing set and enormous supply of o-fuda was undisturbed.

Seishirou had to be here... somewhere. Subaru stood in the center of the room, closed his eyes, moved his hands (but oh, they were not his hands) into one of the myriad inzou positions, and sent his psionic senses out in questing tendrils, seeking out one particular psychic signature. Out, and out... and he felt it, a sensation, an impression, a mental flavor... a strange radiance filling a vast and hollow sphere, so hollow... filled only by that wintry consciousness, blue-white light flushed with gold, predatory and pure, untrammeled by the heave and surge of normal human emotion. All of it, a single flash across Subaru's mind -- and, over and above it, a sense of proximity. He was close, very close --

Seishirou-san. He knew it even as the hand was laid on the knob, as the door swung open --

Eyes like two emeralds widened, meeting eyes of amber and moonstone no less wide. A slight young man in black stopped dead in his tracks, the door swinging half-shut behind him.

Seishirou-san.

And Subaru felt something he hadn't expected: anger. Here was the Sakurazukamori, orchestrator of his personal misery, standing before him in the guise of Subaru's own self. It was an invasion, a travesty, but also somehow... fascinating. It incited an avalanche of conflicting emotions, tumbling over one another, hopelessly mixed -- but they were overridden by a single, clear impulse born of sheer indignation. Before Seishirou could act, before Subaru could stop himself, he launched himself at the other man with a cry of rage. Seishirou attempted to evade him, but the body he wore betrayed him -- he was not fast enough. Nor was he strong enough to escape Subaru, who now had the advantage in weight and strength. Subaru pinned him to the floor, wrists gripped tightly, legs firmly twined to keep them captive.

Subaru saw his own face, the face he saw in the mirror every morning, twist itself into a cold grin, unspeakable.

"Subaru-kun." Strange, to hear his own voice, doubly strange to hear it tinged with Seishirou's sardonic tone. "Not bad, not bad at all... but be careful. You don't want to hurt yourself, now do you?" He smiled sweetly now, fanning Subaru's rage. Subaru tightened his grip on the other's wrists, feeling the slender bones begin to grind together beneath his newly powerful fingers.

"Ah ah ah... naughty masochistic impulse there, Subaru-kun. Self- destructive." Subaru did not release his grip. Seishirou looked suddenly thoughtful. "You know, maybe I should act angry more often." To Subaru's wildly uncomprehending glare, he grinned wickedly.

"I look so dashing that way," he said, and closed the scant centimeters between their faces with a kiss on Subaru's lips -- his own lips.

At that moment, the door burst fully open at the impact of a hurtling body.

"Subaru!! I heard -- " Kamui broke off as he took in the scene before him. Subaru lay on the floor, pinned beneath the body of the Sakurazukamori. Both turned to stare at him, the kiss of the moment before broken. For some reason, the Sakurazukamori seemed very red in the face.

There was a tense moment. Then Subaru was lifted from his opponent by a great force that bowled him across the room to lie in a tangle of trenchcoat in the corner. Kamui kneeled protectively near Seishirou, aflame with his ungodly power, gathering another, stronger bolt --

"NO!!" cried both onmyouji in near-perfect unison. A blank look of startlement took over Kamui's face, and the bolt did not come, though the crackling aura of gathered power remained, forcing out the natural sunlight with its eldritch glow.

"Kamui," began Subaru, "something is terribly wrong --"

"I came into my room and this man jumped me," said Seishirou, huddling closer to Kamui. "I'd say something was very wrong with that."

"Seishirou-san. Give it up." There was only a mild exasperation in that voice, rather than the usual sly amusement that Kamui would be used to hearing from Sakurazukamori. Kamui looked blankly at the figure struggling to its feet before him, and at the one nestled beside him.

"Kamui. Please... listen to me." Something in Subaru's tone, though not delivered in his own voice, must have communicated itself to Kamui, for the younger Dragon gave Subaru his attention, though the troubled violet eyes flicked constantly to "Seishirou" and back again to "Subaru".

"Kamui," Subaru continued, "something has happened to --"

Suddenly Seishirou sprang to his feet, was out the the still-open door like a shot. Kamui bolted after him, Subaru hard on his heels, though barely keeping from stumbling on a stride that was amazingly long.

In the empty corridor, a flurry of pale-pink silken scraps danced momentarily, then vanished silently.

"Damn it!" Subaru clenched his fists, glaring at the emptiness into which his body had disappeared. "He acts like this is some kind of game!"

"...Subaru...?"

Subaru turned, was gripped and held fast by Kamui's enormous violet eyes, these being set into a gaze of the rock-boring variety.

"...Yes." Kamui seemed to shrink somehow, to pull in on himself. Subaru was struck by how tiny Kamui was, compared to Seishirou's six-foot frame. The boy might come up to chest level, on a good day. Kamui wrapped his arms around his own ribcage, as if cold, and the weight of his regard shifted aside.

"I knew..." He frowned at the floor. "I knew something wasn't right..." Kamui's hands tightened into fists. He looked up at Subaru once more, his eyes filled with a sort of loathing. "So that slimy son-of-a-bitch is running around in your body! Damn, I just ate breakfast with that bastard sitting right next to me, ugh!" The fate of that breakfast seemed momentarily uncertain as Kamui shuddered with revulsion, but he mastered himself, swallowing hard. Possibly he did not wish to lose Akira's wondrous pancakes, no matter how sickened he was. Kamui shook himself abruptly, like a cat which has brushed against something nasty. His gaze, which had slid again to the floor, fixed on Subaru again in a way that was somewhat odd. It was as if he had to concentrate, had to force his eyes to remain upon the other, something they seemed loath to do.

Then, Kamui seemed to gather himself; he stepped right up to Subaru and eyed him thoroughly. Subaru remained very still under that inspection.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Kamui asked gruffly. It seemed to Subaru that a number of emotions collided and struggled behind the boy's usual surly-teenager facade, emotions beyond the expected shock and the struggle to come to grips with the situation. But Subaru had never been good at reading that type of thing; he couldn't begin to guess what those emotions might be.

"No, you didn't hurt me," he answered Kamui. Then he smiled, just a little, hoping to reassure.

Kamui blanched, even the amethyst eyes draining to mauve. He stood as if transfixed, then lurched into sudden motion, flinging himself at Subaru. The impact of the boy's body rocked him back a bit, nothing more. Kamui clutched the sleeves of the black trenchcoat convulsively, his face buried somewhere in Subaru's abdomen.

"It is you, it is, I know that... Subaru..." he chanted brokenly, his words muffled against the white shirt. "I don't know how, but... inside, I just know. I can... I can feel you, in there..." Kamui's shoulders shook, though he did not weep. Nonetheless, he was clearly in the grip of some strong emotion. Subaru did not know what to say. He placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, which seemed very fragile under his touch, making him afraid to give them a comforting squeeze. He settled for the gentlest of pressures, briefly applied to Kamui's shoulders.

As he did so, the finely tuned senses of Subaru's body detected a footfall behind him, a rustle --

"KYAAAAAA!!!"

All at once, a small weight impacted on his back and a hail of blows fell upon his shoulders.

"Let him go, you -- you -- you MEANIE!!!" shrilled a voice in his ear.

"Yuzuriha! It's OK!" cried Kamui. "Yuzuriha!"

"Eh?" The blows ceased, but the girl still clung, spiderlike, to Subaru's back, having landed there after her incredible (though not terribly effective) flying tackle.

"Look at Inuki," Kamui went on. Indeed, the inugami was sniffing curiously at Subaru, but showed no signs of undue agitation. It was, however, getting rather personal in its inspection --

"Inuki!!" Yuzuriha sprang off Subaru's back and led the dog spirit away. "I'm sorry," she said. "Sometimes he forgets himself." She turned her attention back to Subaru, putting her head on one side curiously, her eyes wide and puzzled.

"Um, not to be, like, rude or anything... but aren't you that evily guy that tried to squish us with rocks under the Diet Building? Sakurathingamabobbie... Sakuratsukudane. No, that's not right..." She had, in fact, just managed to turn "cherry tree barrow guardian" into "cherry blossoms in soy sauce".

Kamui put a hand over his face. Yuzuriha glanced worriedly between the two of them, cat-ears at half-mast.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be rude, Mr., uh..."

"-- Subaru," put in Kamui. The ears stood straight up off her head in shock.

"EEEEEH?!" Subaru winced slightly as the girl's voice shot up at least two more octaves. "But he was just at breakfast!"

"No, that was Sakuratusku -- Sakurazukamori."

"Oh, ewwww, ugh!" The ears flattened in dismay as she made various sickened noises and squirmed as if bugs crawled on her. Then she came right up to Subaru, rising on tiptoe to peer intently into the mismatched eyes, as if she could find Subaru himself somewhere behind them, hidden. Finally she nodded to herself and subsided back onto her heels once more.

"Did he do this to you, Sumeragi-san?" she asked severely, for all the world like a big sister whose brother has come home with a shiner, courtesy of the local bully.

Subaru shook his head. "No, even he doesn't have that much power."

"Then how --?"

Subaru shook his head, the weight of the bangs falling across his forehead something he hadn't felt in a long time. "I really don't know... I just... woke up in the wrong place, in the wrong body, somehow..." He shrugged.

"What the Hell -- !" More voices and footsteps, dashing down the corridor, magical energies gathering --

"Sora-chan! Wait!" Yuzuriha leaped between the charging Dragons of Heaven and the figure of their "enemy".

"Yuzu-chan!" The monk's voice was shocked, but he pulled up sharp, very nearly causing Arashi to slam into his back.

"Don't worry, it's not the Sakura-thingie guy, I mean it is but it's not him it's Sumeragi-san, 'cause he woke up in the wrong body, well they both did, so we actually had breakfast with that evily guy -- isn't that just icky? -- and then I came to find Kamui but it looked like the Sakura guy had him so I jumped him but Kamui said it was OK and Inuki didn't think anything was wrong and also if you look real close you can kinda see Sumeragi-san in there somewhere even though he's in Sakura-thingmajig's body, so now we gotta find out where the other guy went so we can fix it!" Yuzuriha finally took a breath. Sorata gaped at the schoolgirl.

"But I don't know how we'll fix it when we find him," she added thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin. There was a moment's silence, during which all eyes fixed on Yuzuriha.

Sorata finally found his own voice. "So let me get this straight..."

* * * * *

Subaru leaned back against the study's plush couch with a small sigh, covering his face with one hand, massaging his temples lightly. It had been exhausting, going through the same ritual with every one of his remaining comrades -- the initial shock, the inspection, the grudging acceptance by each...it had taken it out of him. Now that they had finally let him be, at least for the moment --

"Subaru...?"

Subaru started, taking the hand from his face to look upon the owner of that hesitant but very familiar voice.

Kamui stood before him, seeming very small and quite vulnerable, arms crossed over his heart and hands grasping his elbows. The boy was very pale, the hollows beneath his eyes smudged with shadows, the eyes themselves like wounds in his delicate face.

Subaru was struck suddenly by the other's beauty, the realization that he found Kamui quite lovely to behold. Even the suffering so readily visible on his expressive features...it only served to throw that uncommon loveliness into sharp relief, tugging at his heart in some way he didn't really understand, threatening perhaps to disturb, or even wake, that which had slumbered for so long, so far back in the recesses of his own psyche.

Subaru realized that he and Kamui were staring at each other, respectively fascinated, absorbed. The silence between them was thick with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Subaru broke it himself.

"Are you all right, Kamui? You look..." Ravishing, said that strange, secret part of his mind. "...peaked."

"I'm..." the boy began, then paused. He tried again. "I'm, I'm -- " His eyes squeezed themselves shut and his hands moved up to his shoulders as his head bowed to his chest; the knuckles of his clutching hands were white, the bone faintly yellow beneath the skin. His entire body seemed to be under some terrific tension --

Subaru reached forward impulsively to lay a hand on Kamui's arm, and he could feel it, a high and singing strain, like a bowstring, one perilously close to snapping --

Subaru wanted to reach out, to enfold Kamui in his arms and draw the tension away somehow, but he did not dare. In his current form, he had no idea how Kamui would react; in fact, he could even make things worse.

"Kamui." Subaru spoke very softly, very gently, hoping that whatever it was that had told Kamui his true identity previously would come across now.

Kamui looked up at Subaru, though he did not raise his head. Looking into Kamui's eyes at that moment, Subaru saw a glimpse of Kamui's personal hells, the terrible things that lived, moved, replayed themselves ceaselessly in the blackest depths of the boy's heart, the place Subaru had seen once before, in the dark time following Kamui's betrayal. That time, Subaru had been able to pull the other back from that ultimate Thule, back from the lip of the vortex of madness that had threatened to suck Kamui into itself.

But now, it seemed that the knot of pain at Kamui's core was drawing itself tighter, until it must snap, and so send the pieces of his soul flying into the cold dark. Subaru could not let that happen. He did not know what might be responsible for this new pain, this added weight to the already cumbersome burden Kamui bore, but he did know that he must do something before the unthinkable happened, as he sat powerless... like before. Powerless, while the crimson-spattered sakura fell endlessly, as that white-clad figure fell, and fell, and continued to fall...

"Kamui, listen to me." Subaru's voice coaxed, his hands moved to cup the other's face lightly, fingers exerting a tiny pressure to draw the boy's face upward, like a flower, like a mirror. It was strange and marvelous, feeling something of such shell-like, fragile beauty between the strength of his fingers, but Subaru pushed such thoughts aside.

"Kamui." He let his voice fall into a mantra-like rhythm, hypnotic, sending just the barest part of his psychic essence forth, stretching across that fragile bond between them, brushing so softly against Kamui's heart. "Let it go, Kamui. Let it go...come back. Come back to me, Kamui..."

Kamui closed his eyes, drew a long and shuddering breath, released it slowly. Gradually, the wire-tautness in his body began to fade, the dark-winged things that moved behind that inward-looking gaze retreating back to their hidden places; the gaze itself focused slowly back onto reality, drawn forth by Subaru's murmuring voice.

"...Subaru. Subaru." Kamui's voice was firmer, now, and he seemed to see Subaru clearly. The boy brought his hands up over Subaru's, which still lightly held the sides of his face.

"I'm sorry," Kamui breathed, "I'm sorry. It's just... sometimes it's so damn hard."

Subaru bowed his head before the memory of himself, barely older than Kamui was now, when the wound in his heart was still fresh, gaping wide, the pain still a sharp and lancing thing, gouging his soul until it was raw and bleeding... He remembered how long it had taken for that agony to dull into the dim but ever-present ache that was now his constant companion.

"I know," Subaru said softly. "I know..."

Kamui gave him a peculiar look, a look that was sad and aching but somehow tinged with the faintest...joy? He had to be misreading it, somehow. Subaru noticed also that Kamui no longer flinched from looking upon his stranger's face with its odd eyes; the boy's gaze was very steady.

Kamui pulled Subaru's hands from his face, but did not release them -- he continued to clasp them in his own. Subaru found that the memory of the touch, the feeling of the girl-soft skin over the fine cheekbones, remained in his fingertips, a vague tingling.

"Thank you," Kamui said then. "I think... I think you're the only one who can pull me out of... that place..." He shuddered. "You're the only one who knows the way out... or at least how to keep from being stuck there forever. I never told you, but..." Kamui's grip on Subaru's hands tightened. "I'm glad you're here with us. With me." A faint rose color bloomed across the pallor of Kamui's cheeks.

Subaru remained silent, sensing it was best to just let Kamui say what he felt he must, without interruption.

"I also wanted you to know... well, I just figured it out... in my heart, inside, instead of just in my mind... Even if you can't... get back... you're still Subaru. Still you. The body you're in doesn't matter, and it won't change how we feel about you..." His voice trailed into a whisper.

"How I feel about you..."

Kamui finally released Subaru, ran his hands through his own hair, tousling it even further. He seemed to be gathering his courage.

"There's something...different about you," Kamui went on, falteringly. "Something special. You're not like anyone else I know. And... no matter what happens, I'll stick with you. You... mean a lot to me." His arms wrapped around his chest once more, his eyes on the floor, Kamui fell into silence.

Subaru rose then, placing his hands on Kamui's shoulders. He held the shadowed eyes that rose to his face with his own mismatched gaze.

"Thank you, Kamui. I'm... glad you think that way."

Subaru gave in, then, pulling the boy close, right up against himself. Kamui gave a startled little gasp, then relaxed and put his arms around Subaru in return, threading them under Subaru's arms and over his back. Kamui closed his eyes and nestled his head against Subaru's chest with a little sigh.

They stood like that for some time, just drawing comfort from one another, and from the knowledge that here was a precious thing, a rare commodity --

A person who understood.

I just don't know what it is about Subaru and Kamui... *sigh* Nothing like a tragic past, I suppose...

"Inzou" is another word for "mudra", or a ritual gesture. These are those funky positions the onmyouji and Sorata twist their hands and fingers into when performing spells.

The reason Yuzuriha feels compelled to call "Seishirou" a "meanie" has to do with the "Pocky!" skit, it's on Fuu's ClampFic site. Check it out, it's pretty amusing.

What's a "Thule"? Read your Poe! ^_^