[love_bingo FIC] "Descent and Return " (Yami no Matsuei, PG-13)
This was supposed to be posted earlier, but it took longer to write than I expected. It's a semi-sequel to " No Exit but the Final Exit" (though there's a bit of a continuity glitch, ah well).
Prompt: "Back for Good"
Word Count: 1,019
Characters: Muraki/Ukyou, implied Muraki/Tsuzuki
Years had passed, one rolling into another. The autumn leaves in the gardens of Koku-korou were buried under winter's snows, which soon melted and watered the spring's first flowers, which in turn withered under summer's lush greenery.
Ukyou came once a season, looking for Muraki, but at each season, Oriya had to disappoint her again: he had seen no sign of her lover, not since Muraki had left behind the keycards to his lab at Shion University, not since the fire that destroyed one of the research hospital buildings.
There was that strange incident during the city's Obon festival, when a room that had not been there before had appeared in the old house, a room nearly empty except for their mutual friend and lover, lying injured on the floor, his wan form clad in a red kimono embroidered with dragons in gold and black, which neither of them had seen before.
But as with many creatures of the night, Muraki had vanished at daybreak, leaving behind the garment and a memory.
Another year passed. The brief moment with Muraki gave Ukyou the hope that he might return, that some entity in the spirit world might be keeping him hostage. She knew that Muraki had been training in various forms of the Ancient Arts, but she did not know the extent.
"Maybe he was dabbling in the wrong form of magic and he angered the wrong gods or spirits," she suggested over sake one winter night, when she had come to call.
"He might have, he didn't tell me what he was doing in that lab of his," Oriya said, lighting his pipe.
"But he confided in you," she said.
"I couldn't always get him to come clean about everything," Oriya replied. That was the truth. The night that he disappeared, Muraki hadn't told him why the Ministry of Hades was after him, but he could tell their friend was hiding something from him, something huge.
"But it wasn’t for lack of trying, was it?” she asked.
“Kazutaka can be a closed book, you know that,” he said, looking her in the eye. And he could not bring himself to her that there were chapters in it that she did not want to read.
“You’re hiding something,” she said. divining his thoughts.
He drew off a long pull on his pipe. “There are things you’re better off not knowing about Kazutaka. That might have gotten him in trouble.”
Things like the fact that their friend might be the scion of a fallen angel...
“So you think that he angered the wrong spirits and they attacked him?” she asked.
“It seems the only possible explanation: what else could have plucked him from that fire? And what else could be keeping him hidden away from us?" he said. And why, he wondered.
"But why would they let him come back to us for just one short night?" she asked, looking away to hide her exasperation. "When will they let him come back to us for good?"
"When his sins have been cleansed," he says, shrugging one shoulder under his winter weight yukata. "When they have a reason to let him go."
She sighed and stood up. "I pray that happens soon, but I need to rest."
Moments later, Oriya made his rounds, double checking the locks on the doors and windows, before walking the hallways to listen at the doors to the rooms where the girls and the maids slept. The old house lay still, except for the wind outside flinging the falling snow against the windows. The old beams creaked as a strong gust rushed past the house.
He padded to a door that opened onto the courtyard and slid it open before leaning gracefully against the jamb, gazing out over the snow covered bushes, wrapped against the winter chill, and the peculiar cherry tree that blossomed all year round. The snow fell hard and thick, creating a mist that hung in the air. Shapes seemed to move in the falling snow, or the snow seemed to take on strange forms, like figures moving in the darkness.
A shape separated itself from the white darkness and stumbled toward him. Oriya stepped off the ledge, staring at the shadow, realizing it had taken on a human form. The figure stumbled, falling to its knees in the snow. Oriya approached, reaching out to the figure, putting a hand under its shoulder. The figure lifted its face to look up at him through its silvery mane. The pale eye and the closed and sunken lids beside it, hiding an empty socket, were unmistakable.
"Kazutaka?"
The pale man drew in a breath. "I've returned... I've returned for good." He leaned his head against Oriya's shoulder, allowing him to lift him to his feet and lead him inside.
"She's here. She's still looking for you."
Muraki lifts his face again, looking through his mane. "If I had been able to, I would have come sooner, but my hosts were less than willing to let me go. I made a break for it.”
“Will they come after you? If you end up bringing them here, you may as well have killed her yourself,” Oriya snapped, holding Muraki by the collar of the thin white yukata that wrapped his form.
Muraki smirked. “They won’t be coming after me: I killed my mother’s progenitor. The Grigori take this matter seriously.They consider the victor to be stronger than the vanquished.
“Is she... asleep?”
Oriya sighed. “She went to bed a few moments ago. Don’t you wake her up. She can see you in the morning.”
Muraki looked at him with the kind of look that brooked no argument. “Let me see her. She’s been waiting for years in this world; I was away for six months in theirs.”
“All right. She’s in your room,” he says, leading Muraki down the hallway and into the room where Ukyou lay asleep, curled on the futon that had been only his till now....
Prompt: "Back for Good"
Word Count: 1,019
Characters: Muraki/Ukyou, implied Muraki/Tsuzuki
Years had passed, one rolling into another. The autumn leaves in the gardens of Koku-korou were buried under winter's snows, which soon melted and watered the spring's first flowers, which in turn withered under summer's lush greenery.
Ukyou came once a season, looking for Muraki, but at each season, Oriya had to disappoint her again: he had seen no sign of her lover, not since Muraki had left behind the keycards to his lab at Shion University, not since the fire that destroyed one of the research hospital buildings.
There was that strange incident during the city's Obon festival, when a room that had not been there before had appeared in the old house, a room nearly empty except for their mutual friend and lover, lying injured on the floor, his wan form clad in a red kimono embroidered with dragons in gold and black, which neither of them had seen before.
But as with many creatures of the night, Muraki had vanished at daybreak, leaving behind the garment and a memory.
Another year passed. The brief moment with Muraki gave Ukyou the hope that he might return, that some entity in the spirit world might be keeping him hostage. She knew that Muraki had been training in various forms of the Ancient Arts, but she did not know the extent.
"Maybe he was dabbling in the wrong form of magic and he angered the wrong gods or spirits," she suggested over sake one winter night, when she had come to call.
"He might have, he didn't tell me what he was doing in that lab of his," Oriya said, lighting his pipe.
"But he confided in you," she said.
"I couldn't always get him to come clean about everything," Oriya replied. That was the truth. The night that he disappeared, Muraki hadn't told him why the Ministry of Hades was after him, but he could tell their friend was hiding something from him, something huge.
"But it wasn’t for lack of trying, was it?” she asked.
“Kazutaka can be a closed book, you know that,” he said, looking her in the eye. And he could not bring himself to her that there were chapters in it that she did not want to read.
“You’re hiding something,” she said. divining his thoughts.
He drew off a long pull on his pipe. “There are things you’re better off not knowing about Kazutaka. That might have gotten him in trouble.”
Things like the fact that their friend might be the scion of a fallen angel...
“So you think that he angered the wrong spirits and they attacked him?” she asked.
“It seems the only possible explanation: what else could have plucked him from that fire? And what else could be keeping him hidden away from us?" he said. And why, he wondered.
"But why would they let him come back to us for just one short night?" she asked, looking away to hide her exasperation. "When will they let him come back to us for good?"
"When his sins have been cleansed," he says, shrugging one shoulder under his winter weight yukata. "When they have a reason to let him go."
She sighed and stood up. "I pray that happens soon, but I need to rest."
Moments later, Oriya made his rounds, double checking the locks on the doors and windows, before walking the hallways to listen at the doors to the rooms where the girls and the maids slept. The old house lay still, except for the wind outside flinging the falling snow against the windows. The old beams creaked as a strong gust rushed past the house.
He padded to a door that opened onto the courtyard and slid it open before leaning gracefully against the jamb, gazing out over the snow covered bushes, wrapped against the winter chill, and the peculiar cherry tree that blossomed all year round. The snow fell hard and thick, creating a mist that hung in the air. Shapes seemed to move in the falling snow, or the snow seemed to take on strange forms, like figures moving in the darkness.
A shape separated itself from the white darkness and stumbled toward him. Oriya stepped off the ledge, staring at the shadow, realizing it had taken on a human form. The figure stumbled, falling to its knees in the snow. Oriya approached, reaching out to the figure, putting a hand under its shoulder. The figure lifted its face to look up at him through its silvery mane. The pale eye and the closed and sunken lids beside it, hiding an empty socket, were unmistakable.
"Kazutaka?"
The pale man drew in a breath. "I've returned... I've returned for good." He leaned his head against Oriya's shoulder, allowing him to lift him to his feet and lead him inside.
"She's here. She's still looking for you."
Muraki lifts his face again, looking through his mane. "If I had been able to, I would have come sooner, but my hosts were less than willing to let me go. I made a break for it.”
“Will they come after you? If you end up bringing them here, you may as well have killed her yourself,” Oriya snapped, holding Muraki by the collar of the thin white yukata that wrapped his form.
Muraki smirked. “They won’t be coming after me: I killed my mother’s progenitor. The Grigori take this matter seriously.They consider the victor to be stronger than the vanquished.
“Is she... asleep?”
Oriya sighed. “She went to bed a few moments ago. Don’t you wake her up. She can see you in the morning.”
Muraki looked at him with the kind of look that brooked no argument. “Let me see her. She’s been waiting for years in this world; I was away for six months in theirs.”
“All right. She’s in your room,” he says, leading Muraki down the hallway and into the room where Ukyou lay asleep, curled on the futon that had been only his till now....