---Tokyo Babylon ? A Day in the Life, pt. 4---
Subaru was floating in the dark.
Nothing was around him, and in that nothing was womb-like comfort
and silence. Warmth, serenity, and perfection couched him in safety
and peace, and the knowledge that people loved him and that
everything was all right cradled him in its bosom; Subaru never
wanted to leave.
Some distant part of his mind knew that he was unconscious and
unable to wake up; it was probably a coma or something very like it,
but the problem was, he couldn't bring himself to care. Unconnected
images moved without meaning through his thoughts; the woman's
ghost; the emperor's palace; even his grandmother's face,
Seishirou's hands, Hokuto's eyes - all these things became nothing
but a vaguely familiar and strangely comforting slideshow for
Subaru's subconscious, to which he attached no significance.
And suddenly, there was a jolt. Light, startling and almost painful,
shot through the optic nerves Subaru's mind had conjured; crying
out, he covered his face, and suddenly had a strange and disturbing
vision.
He was not warm and safe, as he'd felt; he was in a white, stark
box, one that seemed to be moving, and there were people crowding
all around him and an IV of some sort swinging above his head and
things poking at his arms and something covering his face and
Seishirou -
...Seishirou was there. Seishirou, looking down at him, not as close
as the others but still there, his eyes in shadow and his smile
gone. There was something about his face that frightened Subaru,
actually, and in his condition, he couldn't relate whatever it was
that was frightening him with what he knew of Seishirou. And then
just as suddenly as it had come, his vision was gone again, and he
was back in the forgetful black of sleep.
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When Subaru awoke, it was early afternoon. The sun slanting in
through the prettily-curtained hospital windows only just warmed the
color of the walls to his right, by accident or good planning not
hitting his bed with danger of waking him. He blinked for a moment,
feeling comfortable but strangely confined, then tried to sit up.
His gasp was sharp; his pain was sharper. Clutching his left
shoulder and clenching his jaw in agony, Subaru lay back on the
pillows more quickly than he'd intended and writhed, wondering if
there were an actual blade stuck in his shoulder or if it only felt
that way. The pain was all-encompassing, but it had at least one
benefit; it cleared his mind, and after one fuzzy, burning moment,
he remembered everything.
He recalled the ghost.
He recalled the building.
He recalled the small, life-saving kekkai he'd been able to cast at
the last possible moment, and the sweating-hurting-numbing
concentration it had taken to keep the thing up - such intensity, in
fact, that it had made his vision swim. He remembered the building
collapsing around him, being unable to do anything but try to keep
that power from crushing him completely, and then he remembered...
...he remembered...
...something that wouldn't quite come clear. Something - someone -
black, white, cloth, touch, warm - lips?
Lips? On his hands? Oh, now that made no sense; why in the world
would some character in black and white be kissing his hands?
Having no place to put that thought, Subaru abandoned it for the
moment in favor of reaching - carefully - for the nurse-call; the
pain was only growing, and he was beginning to be afraid he'd re-
torn something. And not a moment too soon; he managed to grasp and
depress the call button only once, and then the combination of pain
and trauma from his ordeal overcame him completely. Subaru
collapsed, gently curved over the metal bars on the side of his bed.
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"Subaruuuuuu," Hokuto wailed, prostrated over his legs and clutching
his extra pillow to her face. "I was so SCARED!"
Her sentiment seemed to be the general reaction to the chaos that
had erupted following the ghost's attack. In the three days Subaru
had been hospitalized, there had been a sudden resurgence in the
belief of the occult in Japan unparalled to anything in modern
times. Onmyoujitsu of course was popular, but on the whole most
people opted for more esoteric breeds: Kaballah, Hinduism, random
Native American practices; for the Sumeragi, it was promising to be
more than a headache because his family was required to keep tabs on
all such would-be magic users.
And why, exactly, had this happened? Simple: the ghost had
apparently decided to bring the mansion down around Subaru's head by
twisting it into something similar to an Escher painting, then
imploding it slowly as if it had been built around a black hole.
This had not been a quick process, and the news media had had plenty
of time to record it: the entire palace, wings already reduced to
kindling wood, twisting and contorting like images in a carnaval
mirror. Everyone had been sure that anyone left in there was no
longer alive; Hokuto had seen this, and been terrified that Subaru
was dead. And Subaru nearly was, when he was brought out of there -
somehow, miraculously, by Seishirou. The veterinarian had simply
come walking around the side, toward the ambulences, carrying an
unconscious and much-battered Subaru in his arms.
"He'd managed to crawl to safety," Seishirou explained to the
medical personnel, slightly panicky, SO concerned over his Subaru-
kun but more than willing to let them handle Subaru's care. It truly
was a miracle; but the thing that was odd was that the house stopped
its odd calisthenics just minutes after Seishirou had brought Subaru
out.
Of course, the theory immediately went forth that Subaru had stopped
it.
Wounded and weary, he'd somehow defeated the demon and crawled to
safety, and for the next several days, his face and general
biographical facts were spread across various television stations
and newspapers; he never QUITE made the front page, but he was
close. It probably gave those folks who'd requested his autograph
quite a thrill - only, he wasn't awake to see it.
It was three days before Subaru truly woke up. He'd regained a sort
of faux consciousness once or twice, but never said anything useful
and didn't remember it afterwards; hence, they weren't counted. When
those three days had passed and the torn ligaments in Subaru's arm
had healed enough to put him in a sling instead of a brace, he
finally swam back to the world of the living.
"What happened?" he'd croaked groggily at the nurse fixing his
draperies, and of course his sister had immediately been called.
"I thought you were dead," she finished in a pathetic little voice,
glancing up at him through lashes made even thicker with tears.
"I'm sorry," Subaru said, even though this scare really wasn't his
fault at all, and she seemed to be satisfied.
"You're not allowed to do it again," she said, still clinging, and
Subaru looked properly chastened.
"Now now, Hokuto-chan," Seishirou chided lightly, leaning forward
and looking at them as though he thought they were cute enough to
eat. "I think our Subaru-kun did an amazing job, considering what he
was up against - really! It's simply amazing what he can do when he
puts his mind to it." And he smiled, to which Hokuto smiled weakly
in return; but Subaru, for his part, had nothing to say at all.
Perhaps he'd taken care of the ghost, and perhaps not; but the fact
was, he didn't recall doing a blessed thing. The spirit might still
be out there.
Hokuto nuzzled a little, still frightened enough three days after
the event that Subaru could feel a fine, delicate tremor dancing
under her skin. "I thought I lost you," she confessed to the pillow
case, fingering the edge of the hospital blanket thoughtfully.
"Yeah," Subaru confessed quietly, sighing as he spoke, and glanced
at Seishirou just... to see what he was doing.
Seishirou's attitude had not changed; smiling, he watched them both,
somehow combining the air of concerned lover and concerned older
brother into one. Subaru blushed and looked away.
Hokuto had finally found something else to talk about. "Who designs
these things, anyway? Prisoners? They're TERRIBLE!" she squealed,
plucking at the sleeve of his faded hospital gown, and Subaru
blushed even more.
"I... I... I...." he managed, and Seishirou chimed in.
"Yes, Subaru-kun looks so terribly vulnerable in it - especially
since they left on your black gloves! That's not protocol at all - I
wonder why they did that?"
Somehow, Subaru managed to blush even more deeply, but did not offer
an explanation; it was enough to know he'd have to try to apologize
to whomever had dealt with dressing him - the gloves were enchanted
to give quite a shock to anyone other than himself who might try to
remove them.
Flopping back onto his knees with the pillow clutched to her chest,
Hokuto sighed. "And the food is awful," she confided, swinging her
heels above her back with the lazy, pendulous grace of a vacationing
swimmer.
Subaru looked at them, both giving up their time and day to be
there, both seemingly cheerful and without complaint even though
sitting in a hospital was surely no great joy; and for just a
moment, he remembered the feeling he'd had when he was unconscious.
The feeling of being loved.
Suddenly it was all right. Subaru smiled, light in his eyes and joy
in his soul, and without reserve, he resigned the mystery evil that
had been plaguing him to the back burner just for now - just for a
little while. At this moment, he had far more important things to be
doing.
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Later that evening, Subaru was finally released from the hospital;
however, in spite of his doctor's suggestion, he had not gone home.
Instead, telling no one, he had gone back to the emperor's Palace.
Riroi was all right - that much Subaru knew, having called around to
check, but it was impossible to get hold of him; apparently, Riroi's
security had decided this was some sort of wild attempt on the
emperor's life, and had spirited him away somewhere. Subaru couldn't
say this made him unhappy; the prospect of being on a case for the
emperor without any potential groping was really a cheerful thought.
Moving slowly, Subaru made his way through the wreckage of the
building, being careful because he wasn't sure if the floor could
entirely be trusted. Cautious, he sent his shikigami in before him,
using its extra perception to try to judge whether or not it was
safe. Several times he had to change direction, and once he even had
to go back almost to the beginning and start over again; but
eventually it paid off. He reached the stairs that led to the
remains of the room in which he'd fought the spirit - but even
before he did, he knew what he would find. The evidence was all
around him.
The rogue spirit had been shredded.
Not simply bound away, not banished to some other plane or weakened
so that she would be come harmless; torn literally into ectoplasmic
pieces, and unable, therefore, to ever be reincarnated, saved, sent
to another world, or in fact, to do anything ever again. The soul of
Yamata Miko had been utterly destroyed; the remains of her essence
were splattered all over the building. He didn't even remember doing
it.
Subaru was horrified; nauseated. The evidence of the carnage was
everywhere, and seeing what he'd done to her finally sickened him so
much that he stumbled to the side of the building and vomited. It
didn't MATTER that she'd been a threat - NO one had the right to do
something this terrible to another person, alive or dead; and Subaru
felt so ill at discovering this ability within himself that for a
long time he simply stayed where he was, too disgusted to cry, too
mortified to go home. Just considering that even working such a
spell required the use of strong and terrible dark magic was enough
to make him reconsider seriously what he was doing with his life; he
felt like a murderer.
It was dark by the time he made it home. He knew Hokuto would be
furious with him for neither calling her nor coming back right away,
but he also knew he wouldn't be able to lie to her; it wasn't even a
question. And in a way, he hoped that Seishirou would not be there,
either; he usually was in the evening, but Subaru felt so ashamed of
himself right now that he couldn't handle facing Seishirou's
affection. Seishirou's... adoration, or... friendship, or WHATEVER
it was. He couldn't deal with it; not without sobbing, not tonight.
Sneaking in as quietly as possible, Subaru literally tiptoed to his
bedroom without incident and shut the door. Hokuto, apparently, was
not in - perhaps she'd gone to visit him at the hospital, or perhaps
she'd simply gone out on a date, but whatever the reason, she wasn't
here; and he was grateful. Slipping into his bed with no more of a
change than taking off his hat, he hugged his pillow and ached,
ached so much for this dead woman he'd barely known and whom he'd
apparently robbed of existence. It took hours; but finally, he fell
asleep.
Perhaps his long-term fears had been right; perhaps he was not the
best person to fill the role of Sumeragi. But whether he was
Sumeragi material or not, the question of his career would have to
be put off for now because he had something else to do. Subaru had
an appointment:
Whatever had driven Yamato Miko mad was not going to hurt anybody
else ever again.
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And outside of Tokyo, perched in the dark and seeing into men's
hearts, a demon laughed and set the next step of its plan into
motion.
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