http://clampfix.fanworks.net/x-fix/dark6.txt </head><body><pre>All CLAMP's, except for the universe, which belongs to Laurell K. Hamilton. I'd like to note that it *wasn't* actually Seishirou, it was Nataku, but what else was Subaru going to assume? Warnings... um... canon death, very slight shounen ai (blink and you'll miss it), and one zombie. ~Chapter Six~ The phone was ringing. I turned over and tried very hard to ignore it. I *detest* being woken by the phone; it's loud and raucous and I cannot carry on a decent conversation because I am not coherent until several hours after I wake up. The machine would get it. It rang again. Ah hell, I wasn't going to get back to sleep. I sat up in bed, reached over and picked up the receiver. "Hello, this is Sumeragi..." "Sumeragi-san," an unfamiliar man's voice said, "I need your help." His voice broke for a moment. Suddenly, I placed the voice: it was Monou Fuuma, the boy I'd met this afternoon. "What is it?" I asked, suddenly very awake. I looked over at the clock. Damn--eight o'clock at night. After sunset. He sounded a little calmer, in a way that suggested he would have hysterics later, in private. "...My father is dead." --- As luck would have it, it was raining. I hurried down the darkened street to the Togakushi shrine, feet splashing in inch-deep ice cold puddles. The street looked different at night than it had in the gentle light of the sun. Maybe that had something to do with the ambulance and three police cars parked in front of the shrine. I slowed down as I reached them, frowning. Fuuma hadn't told me anything about calling the police as well. That would make it a little more difficult for me to stake the body... But then, I wasn't sure that's what Fuuma had wanted me to do. He hadn't said anything coherent after telling me that his father had been killed--just asked me again to come and hung up. A man in an official uniform blocked my path. "Please do not enter. A crime has been committed." "Yes, I know," I said impatiently, stopping. "I was asked to come." "By whom?" "Me," Fuuma called, hurrying towards us. "I'm glad you're here, Sumeragi-san." The policeman faded away, probably going to help his co-workers collect evidence. I turned my attention to Fuuma. "Did you want me to--" I tried to think of a way to phrase "stake your father through the heart" more gently-- "to keep your father from rising as a vampire?" His eyes went wide. "No, you don't need to! He wasn't bitten." "He--what?!" I turned around, staring at the center of the courtyard. There were several men over there, examining the area, but I could see the dark shape of a corpse. And blood, black in the darkness and scarlet as the bobbing flashlight beams crossed it. There was a *lot* of blood. Too much for a person that died of a vampire bite. "How did he die?" Fuuma looked away, face painful with memory. "He was… he was struck through the heart. I saw it happen... That man put his fist through my father's heart." I couldn't think through the haze of shock. Seishirou-san wouldn't have--oh, who was I trying to fool? I knew damned well that he would have. He'd never shown any concern for human lives while I knew him. And he'd basically informed me that he was on the other side already. In fact, he could have been warning me that he was going to do *this*. My hands clenched. Damn him. "...Was it a vampire that killed your father?" I asked, gently. He nodded. "I could tell. There was something wrong with its heart-- no, not its heart, I mean its soul." So. Not a necromancer, or he would've only known that it was dead; necromancers didn't deal with the soul. The souls of the dead were the province of a medium. My brief flash of satisfaction at finally figuring out Fuuma's powers faded into the deeper well of worried guilt. Seishirou-san. Again. "If you wish, I can put up wards around the shrine," I said. "It won't help what's already happened, but it would make sure that you don't need to worry about being attacked here again." "Thank you," he said, and looked down. I could actually see him pulling himself together. When he met my eyes again, he looked as calm as he had this afternoon. "But please, come inside first. It would be easier to wait until the police are done--they've already asked me all the questions they had." I followed him in, struggling a little with the laces of my wet boots before I gave up and just kicked them off. Having one arm in a cast was simply hell on normal activities like tying shoelaces. The purple-eyed boy--Kamui, I remembered vaguely--was sitting on the couch, chin in his hands. He looked up, eyes wide, as we came in. I could see the glitter of tears on his face for a moment before he scrubbed one hand across his eyes. "Fuuma," he said, the words tumbling over each other as they fell from his lips, "I have to go. I can't stay here, it was my fault, I *knew* I was being followed--if I hadn't come here Monou-san would still be alive--" Fuuma sat down on the couch next to him. "Don't be an idiot." He put one arm around Kamui's thin shoulders. "You have to stay here. If you go, then *you* won't be safe anymore." "But--you and Kotori--" Kamui protested. "It'll be all right." With a half-choked sob, Kamui leaned into Fuuma's shoulder. "I don't want you two to be hurt..." It was really rather cute. Still, I was surprised by the change in Kamui. From the belligerence he'd shown this morning, I would never have guessed that he had any softer side at all. But it *was* a little uncomfortable standing here and waiting for the two of them to remember my presence. Luckily for me, Fuuma seemed to realize that. After a moment, he drew away from Kamui and murmured something I couldn't quite overhear. Kamui went a little red and swung around, glaring at me. "Please sit down," Fuuma said, gesturing to the other couch. I took a seat, letting the cast-encased arm rest awkwardly across my knees. Kamui stared at me. "You were here this morning. Sumeragi Subaru, right?" I nodded. "I'm here to ward the shrine." "I asked him to," Fuuma added. Kamui opened his mouth as if he were going to argue, then deflated. "Yeah. All right." He looked at me. "Sumeragi-san, what happened to your hand?" I glanced down at the pink cast self-consciously. The story… would take *much* too long. "I was on the losing side of a fight a few days ago." They both blinked. I supposed that I didn't look like the sort of person who would get into random brawls. "Work-related," I added, barely explaining it. "What work do you *do*?" Kamui asked. "Vampire slaying," I said. Kamui gave me The Look. I'd begun to give it mental capital letters; every time I told someone what I did for a living, I got the same reaction. Wide-eyed surprise, a covert glance at my admittedly too thin and still too delicate build, then a bit of fear. The 'he kills things for a living?' reaction. Ah yes, another of the perks of the job. I glanced to Fuuma, expecting another copy of The Look, and was surprised to see something entirely different. A little surprise, yes. But mostly, he looked thoughtful. The silence had stretched for several minutes. Fuuma finally broke it. "Sumeragi-san," he said carefully, "what are your rates?" I'd been afraid that was what he was thinking. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm busy." And I was not going to let this boy hire me to kill Seishirou-san. I couldn't take a job in good conscience when I knew I wouldn't be able to complete it. Kamui's eyes narrowed. "You--" he said. Fuuma interrupted before the comment could become overtly insulting. "The vampire who killed--" his voice broke a little-- "the vampire also stole something very important from the shrine. It *must* be recovered." Kamui gave him a look that said quite plainly, "You didn't tell *me* that." I shook my head. "I can't. I'm sorry." The silence stretched uncomfortably until one of the policemen knocked on the door to tell Fuuma that they had finished gathering evidence. "...and please call us if you remember anything more," I overheard. "Of course," Fuuma agreed, bowing politely. As soon as the policeman left, he turned to me. "Sumeragi-san, you can put the wards on the house now." "Yeah," Kamui muttered, "and then go back to being totally unhelpful." He was apparently reviving. At least enough to be sarcastic again. I nodded, and stood up. I didn't have the equipment for a full ritual warding with me (it would have required dragging those damn robes out again) but I had my ofuda, and frankly I've found that most things *don't* require full ritual. Half of it was just to impress the layperson. Fuuma and Kamui watched with interest as I slipped a sheaf of ofuda out of my sleeve pocket and placed one on the front door. It began to glow softly as I released it, remaining in place as if glued. I crossed the hall and put another on the sliding screen that opened onto the porch. That was all I could see in here... I looked up at the two high-schoolers. "Can you show me where the windows and doors are?" I asked. "I have to make sure all of them are sealed." They nodded. It took a while to seal the entire house, especially since Fuuma insisted I be *very* careful not to wake his younger sister while placing an ofuda on the window in her room, but finally it was done. I put the few remaining ofuda back into my coat pocket and went downstairs again. I could sense the weak bindings I'd placed with each ofuda glittering like candle flames at each entrance. It wouldn't stop anything that wanted to get through. The important part of the warding came next. I knelt in the center of the main room, ignoring the fascinated stares I was getting from the two boys, folded my good hand into prayer position, and began to chant. The tiny spell-bits scattered around the house woke and brightened at my call. Slowly, they started to knit together. The one ofuda visible from my position, placed on the sliding door, was glowing with an almost painful light. Slowly, as the warding took, the light began to fade-- --until there was nothing left. The ofuda had melted entirely away. A good sign that the warding had worked properly. I stood up slowly, noting that my leg had fallen asleep. Damn it. "That should hold against anything short of a full-out magical attack. And if it comes to that, I suggest you run." Kamui muttered, "Yeah, I think we could've figured that out." He paused, then added, "Thanks." "It was nothing," I said. "I'm sorry for your loss…" Sorry that Seishirou-san destroyed another family... but then, it wasn't anything new for him. For some reason, I kept forgetting exactly what kind of person he was. Fuuma glanced away. "Thank you. We'll be all right." Kamui looked like he was having another attack of guilt. There really wasn't anything else I could do. I left. --- When I got back to my apartment, the answering machine was blinking for two messages. I sighed. I had *really* been looking forward to going back to sleep... Oh well, business before pleasure. I pressed the playback button. "Subaru-san, this is your grandmother." Oh God, that really made my night. I didn't think she'd called me in over four years, and the last conversation had featured phrases like 'neglecting your duty as Thirteenth Head' and 'shame to the family.' Apparently the Sumeragis did not approve of having the Head cut all ties and take up work as a vampire slayer in Tokyo... She was still talking. Unwillingly, I paid attention. "...reports from many of the shrines that they're foreseeing some kind of disaster in Tokyo. The details differ, but they agree that it will involve the Earth. Kouya's Stargazer said that he has seen a massive earthquake devastating the city. Please tell us anything you know about this. And, Subaru-san, please be careful." Click. I stared at the machine for a few moments. Then I erased the message. The next voice on the tape was a woman's, unfamiliar. "Sumeragi-san, I am Magami Tokiko. You are, I have heard, a necromancer. I need a zombie raised so that I can ask it some questions." She gave a contact number, and the tape ended with a click. Now *this* was interesting. Zombie raising was illegal in Japan, even though most other countries had legalized it years ago. If it hadn't been, I would have made my living that way instead. It's *so* much less dangerous than vampire slaying--and for necromancers, it's so natural that we're in danger of raising zombies when we don't intend to. Well, with my arm broken, I wasn't going to be slaying any vampires. I could always ask Magami-san for the details, and turn her down if it was particularly unethical. If she just wanted to clear up some points of a will or something, there would be no difficulty… --- Necromancer or no, I don't like cemeteries. They're depressing. I can feel the presence of the dead under my feet, and it creeps me out-- plus, thanks to the Sumeragi side of my powers, I see ghosts. All in all, I was not happy about Magami Tokiko's choice of a meeting place. On top of all that, she was late. "Sumeragi-san!" someone called, and I looked up, startled out of my thoughts. A tall woman, a little taller than me, hurried towards the gates of the cemetery. She stopped a few feet away, out of breath. "Nice to meet you, I'm Magami Tokiko." I introduced myself, and she held out a hand. Slightly surprised, I shook it, and she turned towards the gates. "The person I want you to raise is a friend of my sister's," she said cautiously. "My sister hid an important magical artifact before her death, and I desperately need to track it down. I believe that Tooru may have left it with Saya-san." Straightforward enough. I nodded. "I'll take the job. Is her grave in this cemetery?" "Yes," Magami-san said. "Follow me." It was barely dusk; shadows stretched out from the gravestones, striping the soft grass with black and sunset orange. The only sounds were the chirp of a cricket somewhere and the annoying rustle of the grocery bag I'd thrown my zombie-raising equipment into. Finally, we reached the grave. It was tucked away in the corner of the cemetery, near a young cypress tree. The neatly trimmed grass covered the mound entirely. I frowned. How long ago had this woman died--? I glanced to the headstone. Monou Saya, 1965-1990. Wait a minute. Monou? The name was not that common. And why would Magami-san wait nearly a decade to find this important magical artifact...? I was beginning to get the nasty feeling that there was far more going on than I knew. But I didn't say anything. A decade was little enough time; I wouldn't have to find a sacrifice and come back later after all. That was a relief. I still hated killing animals to raise zombies. I knew that it was strange to make your living killing vampires and be squeamish about sacrificing a chicken--but that didn't make much of a difference. I was actually rather fond of my remaining vestiges of conscience. I picked at the knot in the plastic grocery bag's handles for a few minutes before finally prying it open--the thing had tightened while I carried it halfway across the city. The contents didn't look very impressive; an old peanut butter jar full of fresh ointment, a black- glazed bowl, some chalk, a roll of gauze. Magami-san certainly didn't seem impressed. She gave the equipment a very dubious look while I unscrewed the cap of the peanut butter jar and smeared some of the white ointment across my hands and face with the tips of my fingers. Little bits of phosphorescence speckled my skin with sickly green in the gathering darkness. The chalk was to trace the preliminary circle; just wide enough to surround the grave entirely. I could feel the body in the ground beneath my feet, feel the faint restlessness as I finished chalking in the circle and knelt before the headstone. My fingers had just enough mobility in the cast to get a solid grip on the handle of my one remaining silver knife and pull it free of the arm sheath. Magami-san's eyes widened a little as I braced the knife and pulled my good wrist down the razor-sharp edge. Dark blood welled quickly, and I held my wrist over the black bowl. Slowly, the thick liquid began to fill the bowl. The restlessness and urgency of the body beneath my feet continued to grow. It took a few minutes for enough of my blood to collect in the bowl; I'd been very careful to make the cut shallow. I put the knife down and, with teeth and one less-than-fully-mobile arm, managed to wrap the length of gauze around my wrist. The bleeding would stop soon. I picked up the bowl and stood, briefly dizzy. Then, slowly, I retraced the chalked circle, tracing the chalk lines with a thin trickle of blood. As I finished the circle, the gathering power flared into a seal. I stood at the foot of the grave, blood-streaked bowl in my hands, and called. "Monou Saya. Return." Pale fingers, mostly bone, slipped through the grass near the headstone. There was a golden wedding band on the fourth finger. Another hand followed, and the corpse slowly pulled itself out of the grave as if the earth were water. As the last tattered scrap of white kimono left the ground, the grass rolled back undisturbed. I poured power into the body, forcing it to remember who it had been, making it become that person again. It was easy, so easy that it surprised me--as if Monou Saya-san *wanted* to return. Bony fingers filled out with flesh, dull hair regained its shine. Even the tattered robes she wore mended themselves. Finally, Saya-san stood before me, wavy golden hair cascading down her back, face peaceful and stunningly pretty. She opened her eyes, blinking a few times. I noticed, peripherally, that Magami-san now looked very impressed. Saya-san brought one hand to her forehead, looking confused. "…Where am I? I thought I was dead." I gave Magami-san a significant glance, and she took over the conversation. "You are, Saya-san. I brought you back to ask you whether Tooru-neesan left her ritual sword with you." The blonde zombie frowned, bright eyes clouding with worry. "Yes. Yes, she did. Tokiko-san… why do you want to know?" "She's dead," Magami-san said. "And I can't allow such a powerful artifact to remain in hiding--who knows who might get hold of it?" The zombie was pale with horror. "Dead?" she whispered. "But how? She was supposed to be safe…" I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Hearing that *you're* dead is traumatic enough without hearing that your best friend is too. After fighting for control for a long moment, Saya-san looked up again. "If Tooru is dead, then the sword should be Kamui's. Promise that you'll give it to him." Magami-san nodded. "Of course." "It's in the shrine. Warded so no one can sense its location, and kept above the altar." "Thank you," Magami-san said. Saya-san turned to me. "Please put me back," she said. I blinked. In my admittedly limited experience, zombies didn't usually ask to be put back in their graves. *Usually* they wanted to stay living as long as possible. Well, who was I to argue when she was being so agreeable? I stepped forward and began to reverse the magic. Saya-san knelt, then stretched out on her grave. Her hands were resting lightly on her chest, eyes falling closed. As I withdrew the power keeping her alive, the grass flowed back over her body, and she slipped silently back into the ground. I staggered a little as the spell ended. It had been a *very* long time since I raised a zombie, and I was not used to the amount of energy it took out of me. Magami-san stood, absorbed in thought, while I collected my zombie- raising materials and put them back in the plastic bag. The ring of blood was rubbed out as well as I could with my foot; the sprinklers would take care of the rest of it. As for other evidence--the soil of the grave was undisturbed. There would be no difficulty. I straightened, plastic bag in my good hand, and turned to Magami-san. I had to ask. Damn curiosity getting me in trouble again… "Did Saya-san mean the Togakushi shrine?" She started, and gave me a very distrustful look. It was as good as a yes. I was starting to think the entire world wanted me involved in Hinoto's scheme. My mental grousing broke off as, with the approximate force of a brick to the back of the head, several pieces fell together. "It's not at the shrine anymore," I said. "It was stolen."</pre><p><a href="./">Back</a></p><p><a href=http://www.dreamhost.com/donate.cgi?id=216><img border=0 alt="Donate towards our web hosting bill!" src=https://secure.newdream.net/donate1.gif></a></p></body></html>