Fanfic: Sakurazukamori - Part 1
This was started in 2009 (June 14th) and so far is nowhere near finished nor I know if I’ll ever finish it. As it had gotten long I thought to share it as some might enjoy it.
Title: "Sakurazukamori - Part 1"
Author: J.J.
Warning: It's an AU BASED ON THE MANGA. It contains some Japanese words (the Dictionary is at the bottom), a bit of sappiness...
Notes: This work is based on the manga.
Disclaimer:
"Tokyo Babylon" and "X" belong to Clamp. I'm merely using their characters because I love them... especially Seishiro and Subaru...
Ehy, Do I own something here? Oh yes, I own the plot and a sensible heart which would surely break if you give me harsh reviews... so please be honest but nice ok?
Summary: Being the heir to the Sakurazukamori isn’t as simple as one might think.
The world was more silent than usual that afternoon as the cold snow kept covering it into its white and cold cape, a cape that was getting thicker by the minute.
White.
Almost all the world around him was white in that moment.
A white world.
A pure world.
A silent world.
A dead world.
There weren’t cars moving through that street, or people, just him, him walking hands in his dark coat’s pockets, his footsteps the only sound he could head, a quiet and rhythmic crunch that kept on repeating until he reached his mother’s house. He paused the time he needed to pull out his own keys and, as he was about to enter, he had the bizarre feeling something was… out of place only he couldn’t guess what it was.
He shock his head as if to dismiss that feeling, curving his lips into his usual smile.
It wasn’t like he felt happy, it’s just he lacked a better expression to show to the world in this sort of situations. Some might have not considered it an appropriate expression but he knew his mother would appreciate it. She wanted him to smile, when he was around her and he obeyed like the good son he was. And he would obey to her request today as well even if today… was the day.
Calmly, he pulled the gate’s door open and then closed it behind himself before resuming to walk composedly, smile on his lips, head straight and shoulders squared, toward the main door of his mother’s residence. He wondered briefly if he should consider it his own also since, by then, he had lived in it by a year exact and was about to inherit the place as well as his mother’s title. Maybe he should, though he didn’t feel particularly like it.
Sure, it was a pretty house but it was a sterile beauty, one that somehow reeked of death, a façade of beauty that couldn’t really touch him but what could touch him after all, he wondered briefly.
Nothing, he admitted, but it didn’t really matter after all, he told himself as, once inside the house, he removed his school coat and hanged it, absently noticing the trail of drops of blood that dirtied the floor and… a pair of male black boots leaning on the Genkan’s floor.
He stared at them for a moment, wondering if their owner was one of his mother’s customers or… his mother’s last work. Surely it couldn’t be a passing visitor, thought it was odd for his mother to bring work in her house. Maybe one of her assistants? Someone who was supposed to assist at the ceremony of passage?
Oh well, only one way to know, he decided as he placed orderly his wet shoes in the Getabako and wore his slippers before following the drops of blood calmly, in the same way Hansel and Gretel would have followed the tiny stones they dropped to track the way back to home.
The red stains carried him in front of the living room and continued inside.
He opened the Fusuma doors gently, feeling the cold creeping out of that room and guessing his mother should have let again the doors that gave on the outside garden opened. His guess proved right when he slipped inside and saw, through the open doors, the drops of blood continuing their path toward the house’s traditional garden.
Out of the opened doors he could see, wrapped in one of her expensive Furisode, his mother’s beautiful and young figure, more similar to a hinaningyo that would be put on display during Hina-Matsuri than to a real person. She was near the small Koi pond, her attention focused on the blossoming red camellias… while a young man in a long, black coat was standing rather close to her, looking perfectly calm and composed, as if the blood on his mother’s Furisode meant nothing to him.
Odd.
Very odd.
So was he one of her helpers? Or was he under a spell that would stop him from reacting to her blood covered clothes, he wondered as he moved closer, feeling a strange… fascination for the stranger in black whose features he couldn’t see well since the man’s face was turned on his mother and away from him. Odd. It felt… as if he was in one of those dreams in which one couldn’t turn his gaze away from the scene that’s being played in front of him.
At first he couldn’t hear what his mother and the stranger were saying, both of them speaking in a low tone but, when he reached the Engawa, he though he managed to catch something before his mother turned toward the man, as if startled, and then her expression shifted, her eyes widened and she tried to unsteadily step back, away from the stranger who had now rested one of his dark gloved hands on her small shoulder gently, as if to steady her and… and, no, no his mother hadn’t tried to move away from the stranger it had been… it had been the force of the blow he realized, the force of the blow, the force used by the stranger’s hand to get through her, to… murder her, murder her in a single blow.
He blinked and realized he could see the stranger’s other dark gloved hand emerging from his mother’s back as his mother’s blood slowly seeped out from the wound and the woman’s legs failed to support her, forcing her to lean on the man, who didn’t let her fall but supported her immediately as if he didn’t want her to end up on the cold, snow covered ground.
“I’m sorry,” the stranger said in a sad, resigned and strangely empty tone and a corner of his mind noticed the stranger’s voice held a rough quality, as if it had been ruined by something.
He saw the desperate, horrible look his mother gave him when she noticed his presence, how she stretched out her hand toward him, toward him who was supposed to be her heir and murderer, ‘The end will come soon. Right, Seishiro? You're going to end this for me, right?’ and realized that no, he wouldn’t end it for her anymore, for her that was so ugly in that moment, so unworthy of his attention, so that his gaze dismissed her and focused on the stranger, the stranger who gently pulled his arm out of her, as if he was trying not to cause her unnecessary pain, the stranger who delicately supported her and laid her weakly squirming body down on the snow carefully, as if afraid to hurt her further, that stranger… he didn’t notice he swallowed as he realized the stranger, that stranger who was handling the person he just fatally wounded with so much care and gentleness, that stranger looked so alluring somehow, so… vivid, a childish voice chanting in his head ‘I want, I want, I want’ as he stared at him, while she, who’d always been so pretty, looked just like a shadow, a broken doll, something meaningless over which he wouldn’t mind to step over, trash of which he’d like to get rid as soon as possible.
And yet… even though she’d become so ugly in her final moments, the stranger closed her eyes gently as she finally felt into death’s embrace, rearranged her body in a more proper and respectful position before standing… and turning his eyes on him, finally facing him.
As absurd as it could be, only in the moment those sad eyes, those strange, mismatched, sad eyes turned on him, he realized he’d been standing there in the open like an idiot, in full view of his mother’s murderer, staring at him as if mesmerized. Staring at the Sakurazukamori’s murderer. At the one who’d just stolen from him the right to kill his mother, the right to become the new Sakurazukamori.
Should he try to kill the stranger? No, that would be impossible, he could sense so clearly that the stranger held much more power than he possessed, that attacking him would be like committing suicide.
Should he try to escape then? It would make sense, it would be logical but… but then what would he do afterward? And would he manage to escape, to escape from that man that seemed to hold so much power?
Would the stranger kill him? Probably. Likely. He was a witness after all and what use the stranger could have for him? What use the owner of that sad gaze that was staring back at him so intently, could have for him?
The stranger’s power surpassed his own and he surely would want to chose an heir by himself or maybe… maybe the stranger would have for him the same interest his mother had. His lips curved into a smile that didn’t reflect into his eyes. Maybe all this would end for him with a mere exchange of master and mentor.
“Who’re you?” he heard someone asking to the stranger… no, actually it had been him who made that stupid question and he hadn’t even realized it. Odd.
His voice, that had broken the silence, seemed to echo on the garden, ‘Who’re you?’ ‘Who’re you?’ ‘Who’re you?’ bouncing all over the place but, more likely, it was just that odd atmosphere.
“Me?” the stranger said, his voice soft and so very, very empty as only the voice of someone who had died long ago should be. “Sakurazukamori. I’m the Sakurazukamori. Pleased to meet you,” he replied tiredly and yes, he was, he was the Sakurazukamori now that he had killed the previous one and he had the power to match that statement, he was the Sakurazukamori and now was walking toward him and logic told him the Sakurazukamori surely would get rid of him and… would it matter, he wondered as he kept staring at the stranger without flinching, without attempting to escape.
It was disconcerting to find that it didn’t matter. At all. As his mother said he was not troubled by the idea of dying.
He had nothing to live for and he’d just lost his chance to become Sakurazukamori and… did that at least matter?
It wasn’t like he had ever wanted to become it, not that it was like he didn’t want to become it, he’d just always thought at it as his destiny and… and now it won’t happen and he felt like an object that had lost its use and needed to be disposed.
“I’m sorry for your mother. My condolences,” the Sakurazukamori said then politely, pausing in front of him and bowing slightly, his voice still empty, his eyes temporary covered by his dark bangs.
He nodded in acknowledgement to his words and said something of circumstance in reply in a calm and polite tone, finding so very, very absurd, almost surreal that he was having such conversation with his mother’s murderer.
“I hope you’ll forgive me… Seishiro…-kun, but I’m really tired,” the Sakurazukamori said, adding the ‘kun’ to his name in a bit of hesitant manner then… then he continued to walk toward him and then… past him as he entered back in the house, left the living room and moved toward the direction where the bedrooms were. He blinked as he stared at the door from which the man had left, wondering if it could be that was a very odd dream. He turned back toward the garden where the corpse of his mother still laid in the snow, slowly being covered by it and wondered if the new Sakurazukamori expected him to get rid of it (and probably of the blood stains on the floor) and that’s why he’d been left alive.
He sighed and wondered if he’d traded one bossy and demanding Sakurazukamori for another and decided he would like to have some explanations for a change. He closed the door behind himself, stopping the cold winter air from entering further in the house.
He stared at the trails of blood that had been left on the floor.
The new Sakurazukamori’s kill had been more neat, he had to admit, he hadn’t dripped his mother’s blood all around the house. Apparently those dark gloves and his coat had absorbed most of it and released on the floor only few tiny drops.
A neat, fast kill and a power that would put any Onmyouji in awe.
He wanted it, he thought. He wanted that power, he wanted to surpass the new Sakurazukamori, surpass him and kill him, hold him as he died in his arms, hold him gently, like he had held his mother, no much more gently than he had held her, hold him close, close enough to feel his warmth leaving his body, close enough to feel his breath against his skin, close enough to stare at that odd mismatched, pain filled eyes, close, so very close, own him completely and then…
He blinked in surprise as he realized where that line of thoughts was going and felt confused. Sure, the new Sakurazukamori was beautiful, alluring really, but he’d never wished something so strongly, so deeply, like a burning fire.
He shook his head, dismissed that thought, stared at the floor critically.
So, was he supposed to clean up this mess as he would have done had his mother had been alive and this hadn’t been ‘the day’? Well, in the end it hadn’t been anyway so…
He sighed and decided he would work harder on his Onmyoudo skills. It seems he’d fallen back of a position in the line of succession but, apparently, he was still in it.
That was it, unless the new Sakurazukamori had exchanged him for some sort of servant and…
‘I’m sorry for your mother. My condolences.’
No.
He knew who he was, he even knew his name, he knew who he was despite them having never meet before. Or had they met when he had been too young to remember? That could be, the new Sakurazukamori seemed around 10 years older than him… at least he thought so, actually it was hard to say, he looked younger but his eyes had looked so old… so sad…
Was he a Sakurazuka too? Were they related somehow? Maybe through his mother’s family line since he looked so pretty, much prettier than her…
All right, he was going to stop thinking at him and starting to clean up. Really, the new Sakurazukamori wasn’t worth that much of his time, he would just become his first victim, an ugly corpse like his mother had become, nothing more.
Nothing more.
The new Sakurazukamori didn’t show up for the rest of the day. Seishiro assumed that he had taken as his own his mother’s bedroom and that had gone to sleep early. He had looked tired so maybe he’d come here from some faraway place and the travel had worn him out?
Either way, even thought it would give him an advantage to attack a worn out, possibly asleep, Sakurazukamori, he too had his own dignity and pride. He would kill him when he would surpass him, not sooner, not later, he reminded himself as he washed the dishes as he had done each evening from when he had transferred in that house.
He had prepared dinner for the new Sakurazukamori too, as he was used to do for his mother, and had considered calling him but then he had dismissed the option. The Sakurazukamori was supposed to do as he pleased and never be bugged so he wouldn’t bug him.
If Sakurazukamori would wake up and find out he was hungry… well, he’d stored his ration in the fridge.
In short, if Sakurazukamori wanted to skip dinner it was his own problem, not Seishiro’s. Thought it was highly unsocial not to show up at dinner, definitely impolite.
Oh well, not that it mattered, he was Sakurazukamori and Seishiro wasn’t. Sakurazukamori wasn’t supposed to be polite with him and, at least, so far he hadn’t submerged him yet with requests and this was definitely an improvement, he mused as he walked toward his bedroom.
He was unexpectedly tired and wasn’t looking forward to place new wards all around his room, wards that would likely prove useless against the man, but he had to at least show to the new Sakurazukamori he wasn’t an easy prey and… and he stared as he found the new Sakurazukamori apparently asleep in his bed, lying on his stomach, slightly curled on himself, face buried on the pillow, still wearing the same clothes he had when he had killed his mother.
Either the man had picked up the wrong room or that was a very obvious hint this Sakurazukamori’s requests won’t be too different from his mother’s, though Seishiro would have preferred he’d washed first. Not that his mother had ever cared about what Seishiro preferred so… it didn’t matter. Well, he hadn’t done it with a man yet but he’d assumed there was always a first time.
Sakurazukamori was pretty, very much so, probably used to be lusted over and have lovers fawning at his feet, so he believed there wouldn’t be many problems. It wouldn’t be too unpleasant. Hopefully the man would instruct him about how to do this properly as his mother did, should he believe Seishiro’s preparation was lacking something, though it could also be he would merely punish him like his mother had done sometimes, when she wasn’t in the mood for teaching and expected Seishiro to guess things without her having to explain him.
His mother’s punishments had been… unpleasant. Would Sakurazukamori-san’s ones be like hers or worse? Oh well, he would endure them anyway.
It was rather cute how he was pretending to be asleep, kind of like playing to sleeping beauty waiting for him to come, going so far as to skip dinner, even if really, if Seishiro hadn’t known better he would have sworn Sakurazukamori was asleep for real. But he had played that game with his mother too many times and so he was sure it was just a trick. Sakurazukamori was merely a better actor than his mother.
He walked closer, slowly and silently, finally getting the chance to give a good look at the man.
Pretty, definitely pretty, no, handsome actually, very handsome, but with a weird air of purity Seishiro couldn’t explain to himself, especially considering the Sakurazukamori was still wearing his mother’s blood, and yet… there was something in that man that made Seishiro wish to touch him, to run his hands over that smooth, pale skin, those soft dark hair, those slightly parted lips and why was he still wearing his gloves? He’d like to…
He never had the chance to explore what he would have liked to do since, as soon as he trailed his fingers on those gloves, the Sakurazukamori propped himself on his elbows, looking at him with half lidded, tired eyes, his gaze similar at the one of a man who’d just been startled awake. He stared at Seishiro, who smiled back and greeted him as if nothing was wrong.
Sakurazukamori greeted him back, slowly, still staring at him, as if trying to judge if he was friend or foe and what to do with him. However, although his gaze wasn’t pleased or welcoming, somehow it didn’t have that dangerous glint his mother had had. Maybe it was because those eyes seemed always so sad and pained…
“Have I awakened you maybe? If it’s so, I apologize,” he said anyway, his voice all innocence and sincerity. Sakurazukamori just stared at him intently, as if searching something in his expression, then lowered his gaze tiredly.
“I’d prefer if, from now on, you wouldn’t apologize to me for something you’re not sorry about,” he said quietly, apparently seeing effortlessly Seishiro’s act, something only his mother had been capable to do before. “Is there something I can do for you… Seishiro… -kun?” Sakurazukamori asked then, returning to look at him.
“Actually I was thinking if there could be something you might want me to do for you. You’re in my room, you know,” he replied gently, feeling slightly amused by the way Sakurazukamori phrased his sentence. Sakurazukamori doing something for him? Or for someone else? That would be something he’d like to see. Sakurazukamori just stared at him for a second as if elaborating the information in his brain then seemed to come to a decision.
“I’m sorry but I want this room,” he said and sounded very honest but also rather stubborn on that point. “You can take the other. It’s larger and better furnished.”
Seishiro blinked finding the last development very unexpected. All that Sakurazukamori wanted was… his bedroom? Surely it was a joke. A test of some sort to see if he would gave up on his possession easily maybe. Or if he would be the kind that would stupidly challenge someone much stronger than him. Well, he could play this game he decided smiling cheerfully.
“Call me sentimental but I would prefer not to sleep in the room of my deceased mother. It would seem improper to me,” he replied doing his best to look harmless. “I was thinking… the bed here is spacious enough for two and I’m not the kind who would move in his sleep so if you would be so generous to be willing to share it… or I could unroll a futon on the floor and…” … and the Sakurazukamori closed his eyes with a tired sigh.
“Do as you wish. That’s your house after all,” he stated tonelessly as if it really made no difference to him and, for a moment Seishiro wondered about the oddity of that singular. ‘Yours’ not ‘mine’ or ‘ours’ at least, as if the Sakurazukamori felt he had no place in the mansion that had always been passed among the ones that carried that title, as if his presence there was just temporal, a passing thing.
Oh well, he figured he would discover the Sakurazukamori’s plans about the future soon. In that moment sleep was his priority. The Sakurazukamori had moved more on the side, so as to give Seishiro space should he chose to sleep on the bed, but hadn’t relinquished his hold on Seishiro’s pillow so Seishiro found himself another, retrieved his pyjamas, changed and slid under the covers next to the Sakurazukamori, all this in the Sakurazukamori’s apparently total disinterest. The man hadn’t moved, hadn’t even opened his eyes to watch the show of Seishiro undressing or tensed when Seishiro had joined him under the covers and yet, Seishiro was sure he had his total attention as if the man had perceived even his slightest movement.
It wasn’t unexpected or unusual, his mother was used to do the same thing and here and there she would have been even deliberately open about nothing escaping her, about Seishiro having no privacy around her. What was unexpected was the kind of attention the Sakurazukamori was giving him wasn’t either of sexual nature or due to prudence. If the Sakurazukamori didn’t have interest in his body nor feared an attack then why was he paying him that sort of unobtrusive and silent attention? Or was he being fooled again and the Sakurazukamori was just sleeping? He crossed his arms under his head and stared at the ceiling for a while in perfect silence.
“Sakurazukamori-san? Are you still awake?” he decided to call in the end, his voice just a whisper.
“Is there something that matter?” the man replied calmly, politely, without moving from his position. He didn’t sound annoyed but he didn’t sound interested either.
“How am I supposed to call you? I just realized I don’t know your name!” he observed smiling at him even though the man had his back turned at him.
“Whatever you like, I wouldn’t mind,” Sakurazukamori stated, his voice completely apathetic.
“Please, Sakurazukamori-san, it wouldn’t be proper at all if I were to call you Pochi-san or something like that!” Seishiro joked. “I won’t mind if it’s not your real name, just give me something I could use!” Because, really, it didn’t matter if the Sakurazukamori weren’t to give him his real name, actually it would be even better. The truth was just what it was but a lie… was personal. It would unfailingly reveal something about the person that were to utter it, if the one that were to listen such lie was smart enough to discover what it was. And Seishiro was sure he would be smart enough.
“Subaru then. I assume Subaru’s fine,” the other stated. Subaru? Like the constellation or the car? Or something else?
“Subaru-san then. Do you know there’s also a song with the same name?” he decided to ask.
“I know,” the Sakurazukamori replied and there was pain in his reply. Was that why he’d picked up that name? Had he picked it up due to a song that held sad memories? “Goodnight, Seishiro-kun,” Sakurazukamori-san said then, evidently considering the discussion closed.
“Goodnight. I hope you’ll have pleasant dreams!” Seishiro stated in his most cheerful and friendliest tone, smiling at him. Sakurazukamori-san didn’t reply nor turned toward him. Seishiro returned to stare at the ceiling. He figured he should feel glad he wouldn’t be called to perform sexual favours for the new Sakurazukamori that night. Sakurazukamori-san might be beautiful but Seishiro wasn’t sure he would enjoy playing the role of the girl for a change. Unless Sakurazukamori-san was the type who liked to be the bottom… which would make the sex between them similar to the one he had with his mother. Would he also be as controlling as her? He didn’t know but he figured he would find out sooner or later.
Maybe he should feel frustrated that, for the first time from when he transferred in that house, he wouldn’t be getting any sex.
He didn’t but this didn’t mean he was feeling satisfied either.
He eyed the man next to him, listened to his regular sleep, closed his eyes and tried to ignore whatever was that nagging feeling that was bugging him. It was a longing he knew, deep and raw and intense and never felt but a longing for what? He didn’t know and he felt too worn out to waste other precious hours of sleep over it. He would deal with it in the morning, he told himself as he tried to fall asleep. Surely that would be the best course of action.
The morning after Seishiro awoke finding himself alone in the bed. However the covers next to him still held the warmness of another body and also stains of his mother’s blood. He eyed them with distaste and wondered why all the Sakurazukamori felt the need to stain things in blood. Was it an urge that came with their line of work? Would he feel it too? To dirty pretty things in that viscous substance that afterward would crust over and became of an unpleasant brownish colour…
No, he didn’t think he would be the type.
He sat up and wondered where Sakurazukamori-san could have gone and how long it would take to get as powerful as him. While he felt no need to become the new Sakurazukamori anytime soon he disliked the idea someone was so much powerful than him and had decided to show up all of sudden, to claim a place that should have been his.
Sure, had this new Sakurazukamori showed up after Seishiro had killed his mother and inherited her title… well, he figured he wouldn’t have managed to hold that title for long. Probably he would have entered in his family’s history book as the one who’d been Sakurazukamori for the shortest span of time… if they ever would feel the need to mention him, he mused as he changed the bed sheets with new clean, ones.
As soon as he was done he went on with his morning daily routine as if nothing had changed and, once he had finished preparing breakfast, he moved in search of Sakurazukamori-san. The man was still somewhere in the house since his boots were still on the floor of the Genkan but he hadn’t bothered to show up at all and Seishiro hadn’t bothered to search for him before.
He found Sakurazukamori-san in the garden, smoking while leaning against a Sakura tree, with the expression of someone who wanted to be a single thing with the tree, leaning against it as one would do with a trusted lover. Odd but his mother had been obsessed with camellias so maybe this man was simply obsessed with Sakura trees instead. There was no trace of his mother’s body though, the snow were she’d fallen was now too smooth and not high enough to hide her body so he knew she couldn’t be there anymore. Evidently Sakurazukamori-san had taken care of it. Not that Seishiro cared. He felt no attachment for the woman who had given him birth and had repeated to him more than once that she loved him. Not that he had believed her or that he would have cared had she been honest.
He’d obeyed her because it had been his duty as son and heir and now that she was gone and he was free he could say he didn’t miss her at all.
“Subaru-san. I’m sorry to bother you but your breakfast is ready!” he announced smiling brightly as if Sakurazukamori-san was his favourite person. Of course he felt nothing for him either, to him Sakurazukamori-san wasn’t different from anyone he had met and yet… there was something strangely intriguing in him.
Odd.
Maybe it was due to that deep politeness of his that made him look as if he truly cared for others which, of course, couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t be possible for a Sakurazukamori to care about others, it was all an act, one behaviour Seishiro had learned to fake as well… though Sakurazukamori-san seemed an even better actor than him in that.
Anyway, as soon as he spoke, Sakurazukamori-san opened his eyes and stared at him saying… nothing really. Maybe he was trying to figure what Seishiro was being up to. Seishiro just kept smiling innocently as if nothing was wrong, as if the two of them had been living under the same roof by a lifetime and this was a mere routine for him.
“I took the liberty to prepare breakfast for you too,” he explained when he got no other reaction that said stare. “I hope you’ll like it, I wasn’t sure about your tastes,” he went on in a cheerful tone. Sakurazukamori-san said nothing, just stared at him a moment longer then stubbed out the cigarette and returned inside the house.
He had an odd way to walk, composed but… well, apparently uncaring of his surroundings, as if they weren’t worth sparing them a glance. All a show obviously, but very well played Seishiro mused as he observed him walking closer.
Sakurazukamori-san paused when he was next to Seishiro and spoke without looking at him, continuing to act as if the world around him didn’t exist.
“Thank you. You really shouldn’t have bothered preparing some for me too,” he said politely yet tonelessly as he slightly bowed in thanks.
“Silliness, Subaru-san, it was no trouble at all and I’m used at doing it!” Seishiro replied careful to keep on sounding cheerful. He wasn’t really sure about how to deal with Sakurazukamori-san’s behaviour.
Was he pleased by Seishiro’s initiative? Was he not?
He studied him trying to find clues but Sakurazukamori-san’s blank expression didn’t shift, not even minimally toward something else, anything else, yet… yet there was something… sad in him somehow, but Seishiro couldn’t define what it was, it was just as if that feeling floated all around him, even if his empty expression didn’t manifest it openly. Or maybe it was just Seishiro’s impression.
However Sakurazukamori-san wasn’t moving from where he was, so Seishiro did, leading the way toward the dining room. As Seishiro began to walk Sakurazukamori-san followed him in perfect silence, his footsteps matching exactly Seishiro’s so that his sound was hard to notice, then, once he reached the destination, he sat at the chair where Seishiro had set his plate, said a plain ‘Itadakimasu’, ‘I gratefully receive’, and ate in silence and with perfect manners what Seishiro had prepared, although a bit mechanically, as if he wasn’t even tasting the food, as if eating was merely something he had to do, not something that could be enjoyed.
“I hope my humbly breakfast is meeting your tastes, Subaru-san, but, if that’s not the case, I can prepare you something else,” he offered trying to get a reaction. The man’s behaviour was disconcerting. His mother had been good at pretending to ignore him when she was annoyed with him but Sakurazukamori-san… he wasn’t ignoring him, it was more like as if the man wasn’t even in this world.
He saw Sakurazukamori-san paused in his eating for a moment and Seishiro wondered if he was trying to built up the suspense for some shocking revelation.
“This breakfast is exactly what I’ve been longing to eat. Don’t worry about it,” he stated before resuming eating.
“I’m glad then,” Seishiro said deciding to take the man’s words as a praise, though he wasn’t really sure. What was supposed to mean he’d been ‘longing’ to eat that breakfast? It was a standard breakfast, plain food everyone could prepare. As he ate Seishiro tried to keep on studying him as inconspicuously as he could. He was good at that game and Sakurazukamori-san apparently didn’t notice or pretended not to. Maybe he didn’t care at all about Seishiro’s actions.
However, no matter how much Seishiro studied him, Sakurazukamori-san still looked… weird to him, unique somehow, a riddle he couldn’t solve.
It wasn’t the fact Sakurazukamori-san looked more like a wandering ghost than a real human being… it was something else, something that he couldn’t quite place and that somehow intrigued him, made him feel as if he and Sakurazukamori-san were tied together, as if they had been for a long time, as if they had known in another life or something like that.
Not that it made any sense.
It was frustrating, actually but his musing was interrupted when he realized there were intruders in the house. He was about to stand when Sakurazukamori-san anticipated him, his movements fluid, fast and essentials, much more fluid, fast and essential than his mother had even be able to.
Beautiful.
As it was the illusion Sakurazukamori-san used to trap the three intruders, along with how he threw some well placed Ofuda.
Strong illusion.
Strong spells.
Impressive really.
The intruders, who were nothing else but his mother’s previous assistants, had no chance to free themselves.
Subaru-san looked at them, just looked at them trapped without killing them and Seishiro wondered if he had fun showing his power, watching those men squirm helplessly. If he had… well, he hid it very well. He looked more like a man forced to swallow a bitter pill than someone having fun or merely doing his job as he sighed quietly.
“Why are you here again?” he asked anyway but in a tone that seemed to say he already knew the answer but wanted to be sure. Well, he couldn’t not know the answer.
The new Sakurazukamori had to kill all the helpers of the previous, it was the rule.
“Setsuka-sama is dead, isn’t she?” one of them asked, looking at Seishiro. Seishiro knew him. He’d been the one who carried him to his mother the first time and the ones that had followed and that, after each visit, would buy him a huge ice cream. “Who’s this man? Why is he…” ‘… so powerful’ Seishiro figured the man wanted to say but he trailed off and didn’t finish his sentence.
“The previous Sakurazukamori is dead,” Seishiro informed him calmly. “Please, allow me to introduce you to the new one,” he added with a bright smile, gesturing to Sakurazukamori-san. “As you can see he’s quite talented so I guess my succession will have to be postponed to the moment I’ll reach his level. It’s unfortunate you won’t see that moment, isn’t it, Ojisama?”
“Are you two related?” Sakurazukamori-san spoke up all of sudden, moving his gaze from Seishiro to the man, studying him as if searching for some sign of resemblance.
“I’m afraid I don’t know. Maybe, since I was instructed to call him Ojisama,” he answered obediently. “Not that it had ever mattered. Hadn’t you become the new Sakurazukamori it would have been my duty to kill…”
“Are you two related?” Sakurazukamori-san asked to the man, interrupting Seishiro. Seishiro mentally took note of how Sakurazukamori-san didn’t seem the type to appreciate making a conversation before a kill. A corner of his mind wondered if he would be punished for wasting Sakurazukamori-san’s time or just reproached or Sakurazukamori-san would let it slide. His mother would punish him for sure but Sakurazukamori-san and his mother seemed to have little in common. Though he had no idea why Sakurazukamori-san was curious to know if he was related to that man. Did he think he was such a failure as future Sakurazukamori he would feel sorry about him killing one of his relatives or that, even worse, he would try to get in between Sakurazukamori-san and his kill merely due to a family tie? Or was it some sort of test? Well, if it was Seishiro would pass it with flying colours, that was for sure.
“You should have asked to Setsuka-sama. She was the only one who knew who of us was related to her bastard, worthless son,” the man replied looking at Seishiro with distaste. “Really, allowing a stranger to take his place in the ceremony of succession. He…”
“Don’t,” Sakurazukamori-sama stated and, as soon as he did, the man discovered he couldn’t talk anymore. “You shouldn’t say such things to a boy,” he added shaking his head slightly in disapprobation. Seishiro’s eyes widened. Really, Sakurazukamori-san’s sense of politeness and respect was impressive if he felt the need to take his defences. He would have liked to show him he didn’t need to, that he could fix that little matter by himself but he knew better than to waste his first kill with one of his mother’s underlings. Oh well, Sakurazukamori-san would realize it when Seishiro would kill him, that was for sure.
It would be a fine kill, his first and probably his best, considering how good he would have to become to beat Sakurazukamori-san, who was now walking closer to his captive.
“Do I have to?” Sakurazukamori-san asked to the man in a quiet voice and Seishiro didn’t really get what he was asking him. Surely he couldn’t be asking him if he really had to kill him, could he? The other stared at Sakurazukamori-san then… he seemed to ready himself for being killed. A Sakurazukamori’s assistant should die with some dignity after all. The other two did the same. Sakurazukamori-san closed his eyes.
“Seishiro-kun. Please leave,” he asked and Seishiro felt disappointed. He really wanted to see him kill again.
“If that’s what you wish,” he said anyway obediently.
“That’s what I wish. This isn’t supposed to be a show for you. It was bad enough you had to see it the first time,” Sakurazukamori-san stated and there was… regret in his voice. Or maybe just disappointment, Seishiro wasn’t sure. Anyway that concern was unnecessary and, had he been a normal teenager, he would have indulged himself in informing Sakurazukamori-san he wasn’t a child anymore and could see all the deaths that he wished. But he’d been taught to be polite with elders, especially if they were Sakurazukamori and so he obeyed. Maybe he misunderstood but he thought, before leaving the room, he heard Sakurazukamori-san apologizing to the men he was about to kill…
When Seishiro had left for school the corpses were lying composedly against the wall, Sakurazukamori-san still observing them with an unreadable expression. Seishiro really didn’t understand what he could be thinking about so intensely. Maybe the best way to dispose of them. Anyway he had said him goodbye - though Sakurazukamori-san acted as if he hadn’t heard him - and was about to leave when Sakurazukamori-san spoke all of sudden.
“Seishiro-kun… What made you think you are my heir?” he asked without turning his gaze away from the corpses.
“You didn’t kill me yet you let me know who you are. Which other explanation would make sense?” he answered calmly. “Though you forgot to mark me. But it’s not like I’m going to try to escape so this stupid part of the ritual is rather unnecessary, don’t you think?” Sakurazukamori-san didn’t reply, though his eyes had widened when Seishiro had mentioned the marking part and then he had frowned slightly. Seishiro studied him then moved closer. “Of course it could be you spared me because you wanted me as your assistant or your lover, but really, Subaru-san, I know I’m not that sexy a Sakurazukamori would spare me merely to enjoy my body,” he admitted with a cheerful laugh as he stepped even closer and saw Sakurazukamori-san closing his eyes and clenching his fists. Interesting, he thought as he decided to test his boundaries. “Or am I, Subaru-san?” he asked teasingly moving so close he could almost touch him and be touched back. Sakurazukamori-san’s eyes opened again and turned on him and Seishiro wondered if the man would hit him for his impudence or… well, take him.
“Seishiro-kun,” Sakurazukamori-san said calmly but Seishiro didn’t know him well enough to be able to say if he was mad or pleased.
“Yes, Subaru-san? Is there something I can do for you?” he asked tone innocent and cheerful, though with a vague note of innuendo.
“Yes. Go to school before you’ll be late. Instruction is important,” the man stated flatly before moving to leave. Seishiro blinked and felt confused. This… well, this had come unexpected.
“As you wish, Subaru-san,” he replied obediently smiling anyway, before bowing formally and leaving, wondering why he felt oddly displeased. It wasn’t like he looked forward to become the new Sakurazukamori’s new sex toy, was he?
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Title: "Sakurazukamori - Part 1"
Author: J.J.
Warning: It's an AU BASED ON THE MANGA. It contains some Japanese words (the Dictionary is at the bottom), a bit of sappiness...
Notes: This work is based on the manga.
Disclaimer:
"Tokyo Babylon" and "X" belong to Clamp. I'm merely using their characters because I love them... especially Seishiro and Subaru...
Ehy, Do I own something here? Oh yes, I own the plot and a sensible heart which would surely break if you give me harsh reviews... so please be honest but nice ok?
Summary: Being the heir to the Sakurazukamori isn’t as simple as one might think.
The world was more silent than usual that afternoon as the cold snow kept covering it into its white and cold cape, a cape that was getting thicker by the minute.
White.
Almost all the world around him was white in that moment.
A white world.
A pure world.
A silent world.
A dead world.
There weren’t cars moving through that street, or people, just him, him walking hands in his dark coat’s pockets, his footsteps the only sound he could head, a quiet and rhythmic crunch that kept on repeating until he reached his mother’s house. He paused the time he needed to pull out his own keys and, as he was about to enter, he had the bizarre feeling something was… out of place only he couldn’t guess what it was.
He shock his head as if to dismiss that feeling, curving his lips into his usual smile.
It wasn’t like he felt happy, it’s just he lacked a better expression to show to the world in this sort of situations. Some might have not considered it an appropriate expression but he knew his mother would appreciate it. She wanted him to smile, when he was around her and he obeyed like the good son he was. And he would obey to her request today as well even if today… was the day.
Calmly, he pulled the gate’s door open and then closed it behind himself before resuming to walk composedly, smile on his lips, head straight and shoulders squared, toward the main door of his mother’s residence. He wondered briefly if he should consider it his own also since, by then, he had lived in it by a year exact and was about to inherit the place as well as his mother’s title. Maybe he should, though he didn’t feel particularly like it.
Sure, it was a pretty house but it was a sterile beauty, one that somehow reeked of death, a façade of beauty that couldn’t really touch him but what could touch him after all, he wondered briefly.
Nothing, he admitted, but it didn’t really matter after all, he told himself as, once inside the house, he removed his school coat and hanged it, absently noticing the trail of drops of blood that dirtied the floor and… a pair of male black boots leaning on the Genkan’s floor.
He stared at them for a moment, wondering if their owner was one of his mother’s customers or… his mother’s last work. Surely it couldn’t be a passing visitor, thought it was odd for his mother to bring work in her house. Maybe one of her assistants? Someone who was supposed to assist at the ceremony of passage?
Oh well, only one way to know, he decided as he placed orderly his wet shoes in the Getabako and wore his slippers before following the drops of blood calmly, in the same way Hansel and Gretel would have followed the tiny stones they dropped to track the way back to home.
The red stains carried him in front of the living room and continued inside.
He opened the Fusuma doors gently, feeling the cold creeping out of that room and guessing his mother should have let again the doors that gave on the outside garden opened. His guess proved right when he slipped inside and saw, through the open doors, the drops of blood continuing their path toward the house’s traditional garden.
Out of the opened doors he could see, wrapped in one of her expensive Furisode, his mother’s beautiful and young figure, more similar to a hinaningyo that would be put on display during Hina-Matsuri than to a real person. She was near the small Koi pond, her attention focused on the blossoming red camellias… while a young man in a long, black coat was standing rather close to her, looking perfectly calm and composed, as if the blood on his mother’s Furisode meant nothing to him.
Odd.
Very odd.
So was he one of her helpers? Or was he under a spell that would stop him from reacting to her blood covered clothes, he wondered as he moved closer, feeling a strange… fascination for the stranger in black whose features he couldn’t see well since the man’s face was turned on his mother and away from him. Odd. It felt… as if he was in one of those dreams in which one couldn’t turn his gaze away from the scene that’s being played in front of him.
At first he couldn’t hear what his mother and the stranger were saying, both of them speaking in a low tone but, when he reached the Engawa, he though he managed to catch something before his mother turned toward the man, as if startled, and then her expression shifted, her eyes widened and she tried to unsteadily step back, away from the stranger who had now rested one of his dark gloved hands on her small shoulder gently, as if to steady her and… and, no, no his mother hadn’t tried to move away from the stranger it had been… it had been the force of the blow he realized, the force of the blow, the force used by the stranger’s hand to get through her, to… murder her, murder her in a single blow.
He blinked and realized he could see the stranger’s other dark gloved hand emerging from his mother’s back as his mother’s blood slowly seeped out from the wound and the woman’s legs failed to support her, forcing her to lean on the man, who didn’t let her fall but supported her immediately as if he didn’t want her to end up on the cold, snow covered ground.
“I’m sorry,” the stranger said in a sad, resigned and strangely empty tone and a corner of his mind noticed the stranger’s voice held a rough quality, as if it had been ruined by something.
He saw the desperate, horrible look his mother gave him when she noticed his presence, how she stretched out her hand toward him, toward him who was supposed to be her heir and murderer, ‘The end will come soon. Right, Seishiro? You're going to end this for me, right?’ and realized that no, he wouldn’t end it for her anymore, for her that was so ugly in that moment, so unworthy of his attention, so that his gaze dismissed her and focused on the stranger, the stranger who gently pulled his arm out of her, as if he was trying not to cause her unnecessary pain, the stranger who delicately supported her and laid her weakly squirming body down on the snow carefully, as if afraid to hurt her further, that stranger… he didn’t notice he swallowed as he realized the stranger, that stranger who was handling the person he just fatally wounded with so much care and gentleness, that stranger looked so alluring somehow, so… vivid, a childish voice chanting in his head ‘I want, I want, I want’ as he stared at him, while she, who’d always been so pretty, looked just like a shadow, a broken doll, something meaningless over which he wouldn’t mind to step over, trash of which he’d like to get rid as soon as possible.
And yet… even though she’d become so ugly in her final moments, the stranger closed her eyes gently as she finally felt into death’s embrace, rearranged her body in a more proper and respectful position before standing… and turning his eyes on him, finally facing him.
As absurd as it could be, only in the moment those sad eyes, those strange, mismatched, sad eyes turned on him, he realized he’d been standing there in the open like an idiot, in full view of his mother’s murderer, staring at him as if mesmerized. Staring at the Sakurazukamori’s murderer. At the one who’d just stolen from him the right to kill his mother, the right to become the new Sakurazukamori.
Should he try to kill the stranger? No, that would be impossible, he could sense so clearly that the stranger held much more power than he possessed, that attacking him would be like committing suicide.
Should he try to escape then? It would make sense, it would be logical but… but then what would he do afterward? And would he manage to escape, to escape from that man that seemed to hold so much power?
Would the stranger kill him? Probably. Likely. He was a witness after all and what use the stranger could have for him? What use the owner of that sad gaze that was staring back at him so intently, could have for him?
The stranger’s power surpassed his own and he surely would want to chose an heir by himself or maybe… maybe the stranger would have for him the same interest his mother had. His lips curved into a smile that didn’t reflect into his eyes. Maybe all this would end for him with a mere exchange of master and mentor.
“Who’re you?” he heard someone asking to the stranger… no, actually it had been him who made that stupid question and he hadn’t even realized it. Odd.
His voice, that had broken the silence, seemed to echo on the garden, ‘Who’re you?’ ‘Who’re you?’ ‘Who’re you?’ bouncing all over the place but, more likely, it was just that odd atmosphere.
“Me?” the stranger said, his voice soft and so very, very empty as only the voice of someone who had died long ago should be. “Sakurazukamori. I’m the Sakurazukamori. Pleased to meet you,” he replied tiredly and yes, he was, he was the Sakurazukamori now that he had killed the previous one and he had the power to match that statement, he was the Sakurazukamori and now was walking toward him and logic told him the Sakurazukamori surely would get rid of him and… would it matter, he wondered as he kept staring at the stranger without flinching, without attempting to escape.
It was disconcerting to find that it didn’t matter. At all. As his mother said he was not troubled by the idea of dying.
He had nothing to live for and he’d just lost his chance to become Sakurazukamori and… did that at least matter?
It wasn’t like he had ever wanted to become it, not that it was like he didn’t want to become it, he’d just always thought at it as his destiny and… and now it won’t happen and he felt like an object that had lost its use and needed to be disposed.
“I’m sorry for your mother. My condolences,” the Sakurazukamori said then politely, pausing in front of him and bowing slightly, his voice still empty, his eyes temporary covered by his dark bangs.
He nodded in acknowledgement to his words and said something of circumstance in reply in a calm and polite tone, finding so very, very absurd, almost surreal that he was having such conversation with his mother’s murderer.
“I hope you’ll forgive me… Seishiro…-kun, but I’m really tired,” the Sakurazukamori said, adding the ‘kun’ to his name in a bit of hesitant manner then… then he continued to walk toward him and then… past him as he entered back in the house, left the living room and moved toward the direction where the bedrooms were. He blinked as he stared at the door from which the man had left, wondering if it could be that was a very odd dream. He turned back toward the garden where the corpse of his mother still laid in the snow, slowly being covered by it and wondered if the new Sakurazukamori expected him to get rid of it (and probably of the blood stains on the floor) and that’s why he’d been left alive.
He sighed and wondered if he’d traded one bossy and demanding Sakurazukamori for another and decided he would like to have some explanations for a change. He closed the door behind himself, stopping the cold winter air from entering further in the house.
He stared at the trails of blood that had been left on the floor.
The new Sakurazukamori’s kill had been more neat, he had to admit, he hadn’t dripped his mother’s blood all around the house. Apparently those dark gloves and his coat had absorbed most of it and released on the floor only few tiny drops.
A neat, fast kill and a power that would put any Onmyouji in awe.
He wanted it, he thought. He wanted that power, he wanted to surpass the new Sakurazukamori, surpass him and kill him, hold him as he died in his arms, hold him gently, like he had held his mother, no much more gently than he had held her, hold him close, close enough to feel his warmth leaving his body, close enough to feel his breath against his skin, close enough to stare at that odd mismatched, pain filled eyes, close, so very close, own him completely and then…
He blinked in surprise as he realized where that line of thoughts was going and felt confused. Sure, the new Sakurazukamori was beautiful, alluring really, but he’d never wished something so strongly, so deeply, like a burning fire.
He shook his head, dismissed that thought, stared at the floor critically.
So, was he supposed to clean up this mess as he would have done had his mother had been alive and this hadn’t been ‘the day’? Well, in the end it hadn’t been anyway so…
He sighed and decided he would work harder on his Onmyoudo skills. It seems he’d fallen back of a position in the line of succession but, apparently, he was still in it.
That was it, unless the new Sakurazukamori had exchanged him for some sort of servant and…
‘I’m sorry for your mother. My condolences.’
No.
He knew who he was, he even knew his name, he knew who he was despite them having never meet before. Or had they met when he had been too young to remember? That could be, the new Sakurazukamori seemed around 10 years older than him… at least he thought so, actually it was hard to say, he looked younger but his eyes had looked so old… so sad…
Was he a Sakurazuka too? Were they related somehow? Maybe through his mother’s family line since he looked so pretty, much prettier than her…
All right, he was going to stop thinking at him and starting to clean up. Really, the new Sakurazukamori wasn’t worth that much of his time, he would just become his first victim, an ugly corpse like his mother had become, nothing more.
Nothing more.
The new Sakurazukamori didn’t show up for the rest of the day. Seishiro assumed that he had taken as his own his mother’s bedroom and that had gone to sleep early. He had looked tired so maybe he’d come here from some faraway place and the travel had worn him out?
Either way, even thought it would give him an advantage to attack a worn out, possibly asleep, Sakurazukamori, he too had his own dignity and pride. He would kill him when he would surpass him, not sooner, not later, he reminded himself as he washed the dishes as he had done each evening from when he had transferred in that house.
He had prepared dinner for the new Sakurazukamori too, as he was used to do for his mother, and had considered calling him but then he had dismissed the option. The Sakurazukamori was supposed to do as he pleased and never be bugged so he wouldn’t bug him.
If Sakurazukamori would wake up and find out he was hungry… well, he’d stored his ration in the fridge.
In short, if Sakurazukamori wanted to skip dinner it was his own problem, not Seishiro’s. Thought it was highly unsocial not to show up at dinner, definitely impolite.
Oh well, not that it mattered, he was Sakurazukamori and Seishiro wasn’t. Sakurazukamori wasn’t supposed to be polite with him and, at least, so far he hadn’t submerged him yet with requests and this was definitely an improvement, he mused as he walked toward his bedroom.
He was unexpectedly tired and wasn’t looking forward to place new wards all around his room, wards that would likely prove useless against the man, but he had to at least show to the new Sakurazukamori he wasn’t an easy prey and… and he stared as he found the new Sakurazukamori apparently asleep in his bed, lying on his stomach, slightly curled on himself, face buried on the pillow, still wearing the same clothes he had when he had killed his mother.
Either the man had picked up the wrong room or that was a very obvious hint this Sakurazukamori’s requests won’t be too different from his mother’s, though Seishiro would have preferred he’d washed first. Not that his mother had ever cared about what Seishiro preferred so… it didn’t matter. Well, he hadn’t done it with a man yet but he’d assumed there was always a first time.
Sakurazukamori was pretty, very much so, probably used to be lusted over and have lovers fawning at his feet, so he believed there wouldn’t be many problems. It wouldn’t be too unpleasant. Hopefully the man would instruct him about how to do this properly as his mother did, should he believe Seishiro’s preparation was lacking something, though it could also be he would merely punish him like his mother had done sometimes, when she wasn’t in the mood for teaching and expected Seishiro to guess things without her having to explain him.
His mother’s punishments had been… unpleasant. Would Sakurazukamori-san’s ones be like hers or worse? Oh well, he would endure them anyway.
It was rather cute how he was pretending to be asleep, kind of like playing to sleeping beauty waiting for him to come, going so far as to skip dinner, even if really, if Seishiro hadn’t known better he would have sworn Sakurazukamori was asleep for real. But he had played that game with his mother too many times and so he was sure it was just a trick. Sakurazukamori was merely a better actor than his mother.
He walked closer, slowly and silently, finally getting the chance to give a good look at the man.
Pretty, definitely pretty, no, handsome actually, very handsome, but with a weird air of purity Seishiro couldn’t explain to himself, especially considering the Sakurazukamori was still wearing his mother’s blood, and yet… there was something in that man that made Seishiro wish to touch him, to run his hands over that smooth, pale skin, those soft dark hair, those slightly parted lips and why was he still wearing his gloves? He’d like to…
He never had the chance to explore what he would have liked to do since, as soon as he trailed his fingers on those gloves, the Sakurazukamori propped himself on his elbows, looking at him with half lidded, tired eyes, his gaze similar at the one of a man who’d just been startled awake. He stared at Seishiro, who smiled back and greeted him as if nothing was wrong.
Sakurazukamori greeted him back, slowly, still staring at him, as if trying to judge if he was friend or foe and what to do with him. However, although his gaze wasn’t pleased or welcoming, somehow it didn’t have that dangerous glint his mother had had. Maybe it was because those eyes seemed always so sad and pained…
“Have I awakened you maybe? If it’s so, I apologize,” he said anyway, his voice all innocence and sincerity. Sakurazukamori just stared at him intently, as if searching something in his expression, then lowered his gaze tiredly.
“I’d prefer if, from now on, you wouldn’t apologize to me for something you’re not sorry about,” he said quietly, apparently seeing effortlessly Seishiro’s act, something only his mother had been capable to do before. “Is there something I can do for you… Seishiro… -kun?” Sakurazukamori asked then, returning to look at him.
“Actually I was thinking if there could be something you might want me to do for you. You’re in my room, you know,” he replied gently, feeling slightly amused by the way Sakurazukamori phrased his sentence. Sakurazukamori doing something for him? Or for someone else? That would be something he’d like to see. Sakurazukamori just stared at him for a second as if elaborating the information in his brain then seemed to come to a decision.
“I’m sorry but I want this room,” he said and sounded very honest but also rather stubborn on that point. “You can take the other. It’s larger and better furnished.”
Seishiro blinked finding the last development very unexpected. All that Sakurazukamori wanted was… his bedroom? Surely it was a joke. A test of some sort to see if he would gave up on his possession easily maybe. Or if he would be the kind that would stupidly challenge someone much stronger than him. Well, he could play this game he decided smiling cheerfully.
“Call me sentimental but I would prefer not to sleep in the room of my deceased mother. It would seem improper to me,” he replied doing his best to look harmless. “I was thinking… the bed here is spacious enough for two and I’m not the kind who would move in his sleep so if you would be so generous to be willing to share it… or I could unroll a futon on the floor and…” … and the Sakurazukamori closed his eyes with a tired sigh.
“Do as you wish. That’s your house after all,” he stated tonelessly as if it really made no difference to him and, for a moment Seishiro wondered about the oddity of that singular. ‘Yours’ not ‘mine’ or ‘ours’ at least, as if the Sakurazukamori felt he had no place in the mansion that had always been passed among the ones that carried that title, as if his presence there was just temporal, a passing thing.
Oh well, he figured he would discover the Sakurazukamori’s plans about the future soon. In that moment sleep was his priority. The Sakurazukamori had moved more on the side, so as to give Seishiro space should he chose to sleep on the bed, but hadn’t relinquished his hold on Seishiro’s pillow so Seishiro found himself another, retrieved his pyjamas, changed and slid under the covers next to the Sakurazukamori, all this in the Sakurazukamori’s apparently total disinterest. The man hadn’t moved, hadn’t even opened his eyes to watch the show of Seishiro undressing or tensed when Seishiro had joined him under the covers and yet, Seishiro was sure he had his total attention as if the man had perceived even his slightest movement.
It wasn’t unexpected or unusual, his mother was used to do the same thing and here and there she would have been even deliberately open about nothing escaping her, about Seishiro having no privacy around her. What was unexpected was the kind of attention the Sakurazukamori was giving him wasn’t either of sexual nature or due to prudence. If the Sakurazukamori didn’t have interest in his body nor feared an attack then why was he paying him that sort of unobtrusive and silent attention? Or was he being fooled again and the Sakurazukamori was just sleeping? He crossed his arms under his head and stared at the ceiling for a while in perfect silence.
“Sakurazukamori-san? Are you still awake?” he decided to call in the end, his voice just a whisper.
“Is there something that matter?” the man replied calmly, politely, without moving from his position. He didn’t sound annoyed but he didn’t sound interested either.
“How am I supposed to call you? I just realized I don’t know your name!” he observed smiling at him even though the man had his back turned at him.
“Whatever you like, I wouldn’t mind,” Sakurazukamori stated, his voice completely apathetic.
“Please, Sakurazukamori-san, it wouldn’t be proper at all if I were to call you Pochi-san or something like that!” Seishiro joked. “I won’t mind if it’s not your real name, just give me something I could use!” Because, really, it didn’t matter if the Sakurazukamori weren’t to give him his real name, actually it would be even better. The truth was just what it was but a lie… was personal. It would unfailingly reveal something about the person that were to utter it, if the one that were to listen such lie was smart enough to discover what it was. And Seishiro was sure he would be smart enough.
“Subaru then. I assume Subaru’s fine,” the other stated. Subaru? Like the constellation or the car? Or something else?
“Subaru-san then. Do you know there’s also a song with the same name?” he decided to ask.
“I know,” the Sakurazukamori replied and there was pain in his reply. Was that why he’d picked up that name? Had he picked it up due to a song that held sad memories? “Goodnight, Seishiro-kun,” Sakurazukamori-san said then, evidently considering the discussion closed.
“Goodnight. I hope you’ll have pleasant dreams!” Seishiro stated in his most cheerful and friendliest tone, smiling at him. Sakurazukamori-san didn’t reply nor turned toward him. Seishiro returned to stare at the ceiling. He figured he should feel glad he wouldn’t be called to perform sexual favours for the new Sakurazukamori that night. Sakurazukamori-san might be beautiful but Seishiro wasn’t sure he would enjoy playing the role of the girl for a change. Unless Sakurazukamori-san was the type who liked to be the bottom… which would make the sex between them similar to the one he had with his mother. Would he also be as controlling as her? He didn’t know but he figured he would find out sooner or later.
Maybe he should feel frustrated that, for the first time from when he transferred in that house, he wouldn’t be getting any sex.
He didn’t but this didn’t mean he was feeling satisfied either.
He eyed the man next to him, listened to his regular sleep, closed his eyes and tried to ignore whatever was that nagging feeling that was bugging him. It was a longing he knew, deep and raw and intense and never felt but a longing for what? He didn’t know and he felt too worn out to waste other precious hours of sleep over it. He would deal with it in the morning, he told himself as he tried to fall asleep. Surely that would be the best course of action.
The morning after Seishiro awoke finding himself alone in the bed. However the covers next to him still held the warmness of another body and also stains of his mother’s blood. He eyed them with distaste and wondered why all the Sakurazukamori felt the need to stain things in blood. Was it an urge that came with their line of work? Would he feel it too? To dirty pretty things in that viscous substance that afterward would crust over and became of an unpleasant brownish colour…
No, he didn’t think he would be the type.
He sat up and wondered where Sakurazukamori-san could have gone and how long it would take to get as powerful as him. While he felt no need to become the new Sakurazukamori anytime soon he disliked the idea someone was so much powerful than him and had decided to show up all of sudden, to claim a place that should have been his.
Sure, had this new Sakurazukamori showed up after Seishiro had killed his mother and inherited her title… well, he figured he wouldn’t have managed to hold that title for long. Probably he would have entered in his family’s history book as the one who’d been Sakurazukamori for the shortest span of time… if they ever would feel the need to mention him, he mused as he changed the bed sheets with new clean, ones.
As soon as he was done he went on with his morning daily routine as if nothing had changed and, once he had finished preparing breakfast, he moved in search of Sakurazukamori-san. The man was still somewhere in the house since his boots were still on the floor of the Genkan but he hadn’t bothered to show up at all and Seishiro hadn’t bothered to search for him before.
He found Sakurazukamori-san in the garden, smoking while leaning against a Sakura tree, with the expression of someone who wanted to be a single thing with the tree, leaning against it as one would do with a trusted lover. Odd but his mother had been obsessed with camellias so maybe this man was simply obsessed with Sakura trees instead. There was no trace of his mother’s body though, the snow were she’d fallen was now too smooth and not high enough to hide her body so he knew she couldn’t be there anymore. Evidently Sakurazukamori-san had taken care of it. Not that Seishiro cared. He felt no attachment for the woman who had given him birth and had repeated to him more than once that she loved him. Not that he had believed her or that he would have cared had she been honest.
He’d obeyed her because it had been his duty as son and heir and now that she was gone and he was free he could say he didn’t miss her at all.
“Subaru-san. I’m sorry to bother you but your breakfast is ready!” he announced smiling brightly as if Sakurazukamori-san was his favourite person. Of course he felt nothing for him either, to him Sakurazukamori-san wasn’t different from anyone he had met and yet… there was something strangely intriguing in him.
Odd.
Maybe it was due to that deep politeness of his that made him look as if he truly cared for others which, of course, couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t be possible for a Sakurazukamori to care about others, it was all an act, one behaviour Seishiro had learned to fake as well… though Sakurazukamori-san seemed an even better actor than him in that.
Anyway, as soon as he spoke, Sakurazukamori-san opened his eyes and stared at him saying… nothing really. Maybe he was trying to figure what Seishiro was being up to. Seishiro just kept smiling innocently as if nothing was wrong, as if the two of them had been living under the same roof by a lifetime and this was a mere routine for him.
“I took the liberty to prepare breakfast for you too,” he explained when he got no other reaction that said stare. “I hope you’ll like it, I wasn’t sure about your tastes,” he went on in a cheerful tone. Sakurazukamori-san said nothing, just stared at him a moment longer then stubbed out the cigarette and returned inside the house.
He had an odd way to walk, composed but… well, apparently uncaring of his surroundings, as if they weren’t worth sparing them a glance. All a show obviously, but very well played Seishiro mused as he observed him walking closer.
Sakurazukamori-san paused when he was next to Seishiro and spoke without looking at him, continuing to act as if the world around him didn’t exist.
“Thank you. You really shouldn’t have bothered preparing some for me too,” he said politely yet tonelessly as he slightly bowed in thanks.
“Silliness, Subaru-san, it was no trouble at all and I’m used at doing it!” Seishiro replied careful to keep on sounding cheerful. He wasn’t really sure about how to deal with Sakurazukamori-san’s behaviour.
Was he pleased by Seishiro’s initiative? Was he not?
He studied him trying to find clues but Sakurazukamori-san’s blank expression didn’t shift, not even minimally toward something else, anything else, yet… yet there was something… sad in him somehow, but Seishiro couldn’t define what it was, it was just as if that feeling floated all around him, even if his empty expression didn’t manifest it openly. Or maybe it was just Seishiro’s impression.
However Sakurazukamori-san wasn’t moving from where he was, so Seishiro did, leading the way toward the dining room. As Seishiro began to walk Sakurazukamori-san followed him in perfect silence, his footsteps matching exactly Seishiro’s so that his sound was hard to notice, then, once he reached the destination, he sat at the chair where Seishiro had set his plate, said a plain ‘Itadakimasu’, ‘I gratefully receive’, and ate in silence and with perfect manners what Seishiro had prepared, although a bit mechanically, as if he wasn’t even tasting the food, as if eating was merely something he had to do, not something that could be enjoyed.
“I hope my humbly breakfast is meeting your tastes, Subaru-san, but, if that’s not the case, I can prepare you something else,” he offered trying to get a reaction. The man’s behaviour was disconcerting. His mother had been good at pretending to ignore him when she was annoyed with him but Sakurazukamori-san… he wasn’t ignoring him, it was more like as if the man wasn’t even in this world.
He saw Sakurazukamori-san paused in his eating for a moment and Seishiro wondered if he was trying to built up the suspense for some shocking revelation.
“This breakfast is exactly what I’ve been longing to eat. Don’t worry about it,” he stated before resuming eating.
“I’m glad then,” Seishiro said deciding to take the man’s words as a praise, though he wasn’t really sure. What was supposed to mean he’d been ‘longing’ to eat that breakfast? It was a standard breakfast, plain food everyone could prepare. As he ate Seishiro tried to keep on studying him as inconspicuously as he could. He was good at that game and Sakurazukamori-san apparently didn’t notice or pretended not to. Maybe he didn’t care at all about Seishiro’s actions.
However, no matter how much Seishiro studied him, Sakurazukamori-san still looked… weird to him, unique somehow, a riddle he couldn’t solve.
It wasn’t the fact Sakurazukamori-san looked more like a wandering ghost than a real human being… it was something else, something that he couldn’t quite place and that somehow intrigued him, made him feel as if he and Sakurazukamori-san were tied together, as if they had been for a long time, as if they had known in another life or something like that.
Not that it made any sense.
It was frustrating, actually but his musing was interrupted when he realized there were intruders in the house. He was about to stand when Sakurazukamori-san anticipated him, his movements fluid, fast and essentials, much more fluid, fast and essential than his mother had even be able to.
Beautiful.
As it was the illusion Sakurazukamori-san used to trap the three intruders, along with how he threw some well placed Ofuda.
Strong illusion.
Strong spells.
Impressive really.
The intruders, who were nothing else but his mother’s previous assistants, had no chance to free themselves.
Subaru-san looked at them, just looked at them trapped without killing them and Seishiro wondered if he had fun showing his power, watching those men squirm helplessly. If he had… well, he hid it very well. He looked more like a man forced to swallow a bitter pill than someone having fun or merely doing his job as he sighed quietly.
“Why are you here again?” he asked anyway but in a tone that seemed to say he already knew the answer but wanted to be sure. Well, he couldn’t not know the answer.
The new Sakurazukamori had to kill all the helpers of the previous, it was the rule.
“Setsuka-sama is dead, isn’t she?” one of them asked, looking at Seishiro. Seishiro knew him. He’d been the one who carried him to his mother the first time and the ones that had followed and that, after each visit, would buy him a huge ice cream. “Who’s this man? Why is he…” ‘… so powerful’ Seishiro figured the man wanted to say but he trailed off and didn’t finish his sentence.
“The previous Sakurazukamori is dead,” Seishiro informed him calmly. “Please, allow me to introduce you to the new one,” he added with a bright smile, gesturing to Sakurazukamori-san. “As you can see he’s quite talented so I guess my succession will have to be postponed to the moment I’ll reach his level. It’s unfortunate you won’t see that moment, isn’t it, Ojisama?”
“Are you two related?” Sakurazukamori-san spoke up all of sudden, moving his gaze from Seishiro to the man, studying him as if searching for some sign of resemblance.
“I’m afraid I don’t know. Maybe, since I was instructed to call him Ojisama,” he answered obediently. “Not that it had ever mattered. Hadn’t you become the new Sakurazukamori it would have been my duty to kill…”
“Are you two related?” Sakurazukamori-san asked to the man, interrupting Seishiro. Seishiro mentally took note of how Sakurazukamori-san didn’t seem the type to appreciate making a conversation before a kill. A corner of his mind wondered if he would be punished for wasting Sakurazukamori-san’s time or just reproached or Sakurazukamori-san would let it slide. His mother would punish him for sure but Sakurazukamori-san and his mother seemed to have little in common. Though he had no idea why Sakurazukamori-san was curious to know if he was related to that man. Did he think he was such a failure as future Sakurazukamori he would feel sorry about him killing one of his relatives or that, even worse, he would try to get in between Sakurazukamori-san and his kill merely due to a family tie? Or was it some sort of test? Well, if it was Seishiro would pass it with flying colours, that was for sure.
“You should have asked to Setsuka-sama. She was the only one who knew who of us was related to her bastard, worthless son,” the man replied looking at Seishiro with distaste. “Really, allowing a stranger to take his place in the ceremony of succession. He…”
“Don’t,” Sakurazukamori-sama stated and, as soon as he did, the man discovered he couldn’t talk anymore. “You shouldn’t say such things to a boy,” he added shaking his head slightly in disapprobation. Seishiro’s eyes widened. Really, Sakurazukamori-san’s sense of politeness and respect was impressive if he felt the need to take his defences. He would have liked to show him he didn’t need to, that he could fix that little matter by himself but he knew better than to waste his first kill with one of his mother’s underlings. Oh well, Sakurazukamori-san would realize it when Seishiro would kill him, that was for sure.
It would be a fine kill, his first and probably his best, considering how good he would have to become to beat Sakurazukamori-san, who was now walking closer to his captive.
“Do I have to?” Sakurazukamori-san asked to the man in a quiet voice and Seishiro didn’t really get what he was asking him. Surely he couldn’t be asking him if he really had to kill him, could he? The other stared at Sakurazukamori-san then… he seemed to ready himself for being killed. A Sakurazukamori’s assistant should die with some dignity after all. The other two did the same. Sakurazukamori-san closed his eyes.
“Seishiro-kun. Please leave,” he asked and Seishiro felt disappointed. He really wanted to see him kill again.
“If that’s what you wish,” he said anyway obediently.
“That’s what I wish. This isn’t supposed to be a show for you. It was bad enough you had to see it the first time,” Sakurazukamori-san stated and there was… regret in his voice. Or maybe just disappointment, Seishiro wasn’t sure. Anyway that concern was unnecessary and, had he been a normal teenager, he would have indulged himself in informing Sakurazukamori-san he wasn’t a child anymore and could see all the deaths that he wished. But he’d been taught to be polite with elders, especially if they were Sakurazukamori and so he obeyed. Maybe he misunderstood but he thought, before leaving the room, he heard Sakurazukamori-san apologizing to the men he was about to kill…
When Seishiro had left for school the corpses were lying composedly against the wall, Sakurazukamori-san still observing them with an unreadable expression. Seishiro really didn’t understand what he could be thinking about so intensely. Maybe the best way to dispose of them. Anyway he had said him goodbye - though Sakurazukamori-san acted as if he hadn’t heard him - and was about to leave when Sakurazukamori-san spoke all of sudden.
“Seishiro-kun… What made you think you are my heir?” he asked without turning his gaze away from the corpses.
“You didn’t kill me yet you let me know who you are. Which other explanation would make sense?” he answered calmly. “Though you forgot to mark me. But it’s not like I’m going to try to escape so this stupid part of the ritual is rather unnecessary, don’t you think?” Sakurazukamori-san didn’t reply, though his eyes had widened when Seishiro had mentioned the marking part and then he had frowned slightly. Seishiro studied him then moved closer. “Of course it could be you spared me because you wanted me as your assistant or your lover, but really, Subaru-san, I know I’m not that sexy a Sakurazukamori would spare me merely to enjoy my body,” he admitted with a cheerful laugh as he stepped even closer and saw Sakurazukamori-san closing his eyes and clenching his fists. Interesting, he thought as he decided to test his boundaries. “Or am I, Subaru-san?” he asked teasingly moving so close he could almost touch him and be touched back. Sakurazukamori-san’s eyes opened again and turned on him and Seishiro wondered if the man would hit him for his impudence or… well, take him.
“Seishiro-kun,” Sakurazukamori-san said calmly but Seishiro didn’t know him well enough to be able to say if he was mad or pleased.
“Yes, Subaru-san? Is there something I can do for you?” he asked tone innocent and cheerful, though with a vague note of innuendo.
“Yes. Go to school before you’ll be late. Instruction is important,” the man stated flatly before moving to leave. Seishiro blinked and felt confused. This… well, this had come unexpected.
“As you wish, Subaru-san,” he replied obediently smiling anyway, before bowing formally and leaving, wondering why he felt oddly displeased. It wasn’t like he looked forward to become the new Sakurazukamori’s new sex toy, was he?
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