Seishirou hung Subaru's coat on the rack and, shaking the last of the snow from his hair, stepped out of his shoes and up onto the floor. As Subaru bent to attend to his own shoes, Seishirou left him there and wandered off absently in the direction of the kitchenette counter. He felt secure enough at the moment to step away like that--did not think that Subaru could possibly do anything to him without more time to recover. Besides, he needed to consider what to do next.... It was definitely a peculiar situation, he mused, and one he did not entirely feel he had a grasp on. He was not even sure of why he had brought Subaru upstairs with him, let alone of why Subaru had come.

He paused, and glanced back at the onmyouji. Subaru was sitting on the edge of the floor to unlace his sneakers, his face wearing the closed look of utter exhaustion--exhaustion of the heart, not the body, although probably he was still weak physically as well. There had been too much passing back and forth between tension and relief, and Subaru always seemed to feel everything so intensely. Whatever closure he had achieved with his sister's ghost, the process could not have been easy.

What exactly it had been that had passed between them...Seishirou could only wonder about it, and that wondering reminded him of the distance he could not traverse, that space between himself and other people. He looked across the room at Subaru, and though with the damage to his eye he visually could not quite measure the width of the floor that separated them, he suddenly was aware of every inch of it--and what kept him apart was infinitely more vast.

Then his eye trailed up along the line of Subaru's body as the other finished with his laces and began to stand, and for a moment the rose fire of the healing magic came back to him: the fire, and the heat....

Perhaps there was a certain distance that he could cross, after all.

He walked back across the floor toward Subaru. As he neared, Subaru turned to look up at him, balancing awkwardly with one foot half-out of its shoe, his expression still translucent with shock. Seishirou stopped at the raised edge of the floor. With the extra height the step gave him, it was something like looking down at the teenaged Subaru again, only the proportions of the tall, slender body were different, and the close-cropped hair, and the face.... He stared into the face that was raised to his for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, cupping a hand under Subaru's chin, and kissed the young man gently on the lips.

He could feel Subaru become still, the mouth against his own going taut and surprised at the contact, but Subaru did not struggle or try to break away. He held Subaru there another moment before releasing him. Then Seishirou straightened, and gazed down into those eyes that were wide with startlement.

"I don't love you," Seishirou said. "But I want you." It was truth, as much truth as he had ever given Subaru. Seishirou followed the ripples that those words caused in the deep green water of Subaru's stare, the shifting, interlocking movement of emotions that had to be, at best, contradictory. He did not wait to determine what exactly those emotions might be, or for Subaru make any kind of response. Instead, he bent down again with patient slowness, never taking his eye from Subaru's face, from Subaru watching him draw nearer--and then Subaru tilting his head back slightly, his eyes closing this time as their mouths touched once more and he yielded like cloud or water to the soft pressure of the kiss. Seishirou let his own eyes shut, savoring the feel of the Sumeragi, that perfectly delectable surrender. He slid his arms around Subaru and kissed him more deeply, felt Subaru's lips trembling against his in the same way that sakura trembled the moment before the wind took them, and with the same softness, as Subaru's mouth parted for him and let him in.

Yes....

.: Subaru-kun...I can't love you. Perhaps I can't really understand you for what you are.... :.

.: But I can have you. :.

.: And I will.... :.

.: I will. :.

* * * * *

Seishirou looked down at the slender V-shape of the onmyouji's torso, at the back of his dark head, his face hidden in the crook of his arm. He felt simply the clean, empty lassitude that usually followed climax. It would be easy and pleasant to abandon himself to that, to lie down and drift in the quietness that followed release, but he probably should not. Standing up, he went to the closet and got his robe, took it with him as he went into the bathroom to clean himself off. When he came out a few minutes later, Subaru had not moved significantly.

Perhaps he had fallen asleep.

Wandering out into the main room, Seishirou collected his lighter and cigarettes from the coffee table. He took one of the stools from the eating side of the counter and swung it around into the kitchenette. He sat down there, in the half-light that reached him from the living room fixture, and lit up a cigarette. Slowly he breathed in the rich, familiar smoke.

It had been entirely satisfactory.

In a way, though...there was something almost disappointing about that.

Though the physical pleasure was enjoyable enough, while it lasted, in the end it was just as brilliant and as transient as any other thing. He could not build upon it...he could not make it into that human connection.

And it did not tell him anything about what it was to love.

He knew better than that, of course.... After all, it was foolishness to think that mere sex could solve anything. For what the evening's experience had been, it had been very good, and he took it for that, and savored it, and then set it away, gently, into memory.

Seishirou heard then the soft sounds of movement from the other room, and at that he put his reflections aside, becoming attentive once again: listening, and waiting. It seemed his "guest" was awake after all.... In a little while, Subaru appeared in the doorway. It took him a few moments to locate Seishirou, sitting in the unlit kitchenette; when he did, he began to wander over haltingly, almost disjointedly, as if neither body nor mind were quite functional yet. He had put his jeans back on, but he was barefoot and wore Seishirou's shirt. Seishirou wondered if that was significant, or if it had simply been the first article of clothing that had come to hand.

As Subaru came to the end of the counter, Seishirou pushed the cigarette pack wordlessly toward him, and this time Subaru accepted, tapping one out with a quiet dignity and a steadiness that belied the awkwardness he'd shown coming across the floor. He did not meet Seishirou's gaze, though.... Seishirou held out his lighter, and as Subaru leaned close the flame's glow flickered over his face, the gold of it flowing over his pale skin, leaving shadows here and there, at the line of his jaw, and in his half-closed eyes. The cigarette caught, and Subaru straightened up and nodded, murmuring a polite thank you, and then retreated. There was a wooden chair in one corner of the kitchenette. Subaru went over and curled himself up on it, as if trying to make himself unobtrusive, and then he lapsed into stillness, doing nothing but stare into space. Seishirou watched him for a minute, but he did not seem to notice, lost in whatever thoughts might be going through his mind.

Perhaps there were no thoughts at all. Perhaps Subaru had withdrawn into himself, and was merely existing until the next force came to act upon him. He had been like that occasionally in times past...perhaps he still could be.

Seishirou left part of his attention on the onmyouji, and returned to his own silent musings.

No, nothing had really changed in him, but now he was aware of that motivation which had escaped his conscious mind until tonight: aware of that hunger, that hidden need...that loneliness. He was a bit disturbed that he could act on such an impulse for so long without recognizing it. If there was one thing that he counted on, one thing that was true and certain in his life, it was his own self-identity, the knowledge of who and what he was, that intimate familiarity with his capabilities and with every aspect of his mind, heart, and body.

Sakurazukamori. That was the largest part of it, as necessary to him as breathing: the piece of him that gave shape to all the rest.

Being the killer, being the "cherry tree barrow guardian"....

Should he be lonely?

Should he permit it?

Seishirou stubbed out his cigarette and clasped his hands thoughtfully before his mouth. It was a difficult question.... For a brief moment he found himself wondering if any of the others who had come before him had felt loneliness, wondered if they had been capable of love, or if that lack was something unique to himself....

Then he shrugged. Really, he didn't care.

Whether they had been like him or not--

It didn't matter.

There was only himself now, and the one important thing was that he recognized what lay within him, acknowledged it, and then took steps to make certain that it served his will. A "feeling" could not betray him as long as he was aware of it, as long as he was watching out for its effects.

And now, he was.

There was a short, violent outburst of coughing from the corner, as Subaru's newly healed throat and lungs protested the cigarette, and Seishirou smiled wryly to himself. Funny that it had been the healing spell's return that had broken him open, that had cracked his mind wide enough to let him see such things. Just as he had used that living flame of power to clear away the shadows that had clouded Subaru's body--to restore the onmyouji to a normal state of health--in just that way the magic had tried to "restore" him, opening him up inside to reveal this hidden thing. He had meant to probe the Sumeragi's damaged heart, and instead had found something quite surprising in himself.

.: Healing out, healing back, though not as I might have intended it...and because there was no "harm," my protections didn't function. I understand it now. :.

.: Still, I can't help but wonder, Subaru-kun, if you hadn't warded me then... :.

.: ...what might you have found, when I finally woke up. :.

That feeling of disintegration...he remembered it quite clearly from his dream, the pull from that ripped apart sky....

Would he even have been recognizable as himself?

.: It's ironic, isn't it, Subaru-kun? :.

.: In trying to protect me, you may well be the reason that I'm still the person I am. :.

.: Still the same person...in the end, I haven't really been changed. :.

.: It's ironic. :.

Seishirou shrugged again. Abandoning that train of thought, he returned his attention to the real issue at hand...what should he do about that "loneliness"? What action, if any, could he take? To block the ache from his mind would at best be a temporary thing, no more than what he had already done for years unconsciously, and he suspected that to try to extirpate it entirely would somehow be unwise. In any case, he found as he considered the matter that he didn't particularly want to make that attempt, didn't want to lose even that slight, strange awareness of lack. Even this "feeling," odd and uncomfortable as it was...it was still a part of him. And anything that was part of him, he would not let go.

So instead of destroying it he would leave it be, Seishirou decided, simply remaining at all times aware of its existence and its possible ramifications, in much the same way that he would allow Subaru himself walk out that door tonight, and live for the few brief weeks until the final storm broke and the onmyouji died as Seishirou had always intended that he should. It was overconfidence, perhaps, that Seishirou considered both the Sumeragi and the need he answered to be acceptable dangers...perhaps that surety was a weakness in and of itself. But he was aware of that, too. It also was a part of him, and he would not relinquish it any more than he would allow his eye and his will to leave the prey that he had chosen.

He would not let Subaru go...at least, not permanently.

After all, Subaru's life, and death, still belonged to him.

For tonight, though, Subaru could certainly leave: just like the little bird in a nukume dori painting, allowed to escape the falcon's claws and fly away into the sudden respite of an open sky. Yet sooner or later the day would come for it, too, and the little bird would fall, its bright feathers scattering over the snow.

He had always liked that image.

He nodded to himself, then glanced at the Sumeragi.

"Subaru-kun, wake up. You're going to fall off the chair."

Subaru sat up with a start. He uncoiled partway from his seat, putting one foot down on the floor, and as he moved the long tail of ash at the end of his cigarette fell off onto the linoleum. "Sorry...," he began automatically, and fumbled for the ashtray on the end of the counter.

Seishirou couldn't help smiling slightly at Subaru's obvious and very appealing confusion. Still so easily flustered, even now.... Reaching into the cabinet under the sink, Seishirou pulled out the dustpan and broom. He went to where Subaru was sitting, and knelt down, beginning to sweep up the spilled ash. "Go and get dressed," he said gently. "I'll call a cab for you this time. On a night like this, to find one just driving by--I doubt you'll be so lucky once again."

"I want to stay with you."

Seishirou glanced up at Subaru, the briefest of glances, and then dropped his eyes again, hiding his amused expression. He had rather thought so, seeing Subaru come out of the bedroom in his shirt--it seemed that Subaru was beginning to harbor illusions once more about the person he was, and about what this night might possibly mean. Seishirou bent forward, chasing a bit of ash that had fallen under Subaru's chair. "Don't be silly, Subaru-kun. You can't stay here--"

"I know what you are."

The sudden, raw starkness in Subaru's tone stopped him at once. His gaze flicked up again.

"Sakurazukamori," Subaru said, the word taut and fierce, spoken with a strangely complicated intensity. "I know. I want to stay." And Seishirou found himself staring at Subaru, into the shadowed places of those green eyes that had always communicated far more than language could for Subaru.... Indeed, Subaru's voice faltered a little as he met that stare.

"I-if you'll have me," he said.

Of course, there were all sorts of very good reasons why Subaru absolutely could not stay. Seishirou reached for them, but found that they somehow were not coming to mind--were scattering even as he looked for them, like light fracturing on ripples of deep green water. Subaru was still looking at him. Those beautiful eyes were filled with something aching, and Seishirou was not at all certain of what it meant.

Then Subaru reached out a hand toward him, moving very slowly, a deliberate and careful gesture that couldn't be construed as danger. No, not even a spell.... He pushed his fingers into Seishirou's bangs and lifted them, brushing them aside from his face, then ran that quiet touch like rain down Seishirou's cheek. His hand slipped behind Seishirou and drew him forward--drew him down until his head was resting on Subaru's knees....

Subaru began to stroke his hair with gentle fingers.