Tokyo Babylon: Song
Part 3: Burnin' For You


        Seishirou smiled as he opened the door of his apartment.  Something 
smelled good.  "I'm home," he called out as he hung his coat in the closet.
        "Have a good day, Oniisan?" his sister called in reply.  "I'm in the 
kitchen."
        "So I guessed."  Seishirou made his way to the kitchen, perching on a 
stool as he watched his sister stir something bubbling in a pot, a serious 
expression on her face.  "When did you learn how to cook?"
        "I signed up for Home Ec. last semester," she replied.  "Passed with 
flying colors, too."
        "How old are you, Midori?" Seishirou asked.  "And you're taking classes 
to learn how to cook?"
        "Twenty-two, and the class I needed for my major was full," she 
defended herself.  "Besides, it's not like Otousan's money won't cover it if I 
decide to go to school for the rest of my life."
        "Are you ever planning to finish your education and leave school?" 
Seishirou inquired.
        "Taste this," Midori asked him, tipping a spoon towards his mouth.  
Seishirou obediently sampled the soup.  "I'm going for my master's, Oniisan, 
the same as you did.  I only need one more year."
        "Why stop there?  Why not a doctorate?  I think the soup needs more 
spice."
        "A doctorate is too much.  I neither want to be great in my field, nor 
ignored.  In any case, I'm getting tired of school.  I want to go do 
something... maybe travel.  And I think you're right, it does need a little 
something...."  Midori stood on tip-toe, rifling through the higher shelves of 
his cabinets.  "Paprika... parsley... pepper... do you keep your spices 
organized alphabetically or something?"
        "What are you looking for?"
        "Garlic powder."
        "One shelf up, to your right."
        "I don't believe it.  You do organize them by alphabet."
        "What other way would I do it?" Seishirou asked, standing and reaching 
for the garlic powder, as it was far back on the shelf and Midori was unable 
to reach it.  "Spent your day doing homework, I assume?"
        "My Germanic Languages professor's killer on assignments.  Thanks."  
Midori turned back to the stove and carefully tapped the spice bottle, smoothly 
stirring it in.  "That should be enough."

        Midori watched from behind masked eyes as she set the table.  She 
remembered, somewhere in the back of her mind, watching her mother do the 
same, many years before, and it disturbed her to think that it was the same 
then as now... a domestic act covering covering true intentions of 
destruction.  <I guess I really am a Sakurazuka,> she thought to herself, 
<Despite the fact that I kept Otousan's name.>
        <Oniisan... you kept up the perfect act, then, didn't you?  A son, 
angered and devastated by his parents' violent murders.  I would have believed 
it, except I was very much Ojiisan's favorite... and he knew what you and 
Okaasan were.  "Toyuuki"... as with "Sakurazuka," our name defines us.  
"Sakurazuka," the grave of the cherry blossoms.  The grave of all that is 
bright and beautiful and mortal.  "Toyuuki"... hidden courage.  Hidden below a 
veneer of normality.  But even that is not our true name.  My clan, an unknown, 
totally hidden clan, is like yours in that it must be comprised of only one 
member.  And that one earns the title of Balancer.>
        <Sumeragi against Sakurazuka, with Toyuuki between the two.>

        "She was right," Subaru told himself.  "I've become really obsessed in 
this quest for revenge."  He paused, then continued.  "But it's too late to 
change now."
        "If only...."
        "If only...."
        "If only things had been different," he whispered to himself.
        "... Seishirou-san...."
        Subaru laid down on the bed, still in his street clothes although he'd 
kicked his shoes off.  He curled his arms around himself and began to shake, 
raggedly breathing, refusing to cry.
        "I hate you," he whispered harshly.  "I hate you, I hate you, I hate 
you!"  Subaru felt hot tears prickling at the back of his eyes, and refused to 
let them spill over into reality.  If he cried, then he'd have to face himself 
in the morning.  He'd have to accept that he was crying over a murderer, a 
liar, an emotionless sociopath.  He'd have to face the fact that he was 
probably still in love.
        ... whispered hands, moving across his body....
        ... a touch as gentle as a dream, moving, slowly, arousing feelings of 
love, of tenderness, raising something unknown, new....
        ... a feeling of heat, of fire, of need....
        "Seishirou-san... what is this?"
        A soft voice, echoed in memory, answered the boy's question.  "Passion, 
Subaru-kun."  A gentle kiss to his lips, which Subaru willingly returned, 
still confused by the feelings that the hands moving across his body were 
causing.  "Do you like it?"
        "Yes...."  A sighed reply, and Seishirou's gentle laugh.
        "Then let us proceed, Subaru-kun."
        "I hate you," Subaru whispered one last time in the present.  That 
memory was one of the most vivid, one of the sweetest.
        He hated it.  He hated it all.  And he hated himself for being fool 
enough to fall for it and let his sister get killed because of his innocence 
and blind love.

        "Subaru."
        "Mmm...?"
        "What do you think you're doing?  Eat something or you'll waste away 
to nothing."
        "Hokuto-chan?"  Subaru looked at her quizzically, then thought for a 
second.  "Oh... this is a dream."
        "You still need to eat," his twin criticized.
        "It's easier to be upset on an empty stomach.  It's easier to be 
angry.  It's easier to hurt...."
        Hokuto sighed in frustration, crossing her legs and sitting 
Indian-style in front of Subaru, floating in the white void.  "You're 
impossible, you know."
        "Sorry," Subaru mumbled.
        Hokuto sighed again, resting her head on her hand.  "What do you think 
you're going to do, Subaru?  Kill him, and then what?  Kill yourself.  Face it, 
you can't live without him, and you won't want to.  _Don't_ want to."
        "I know," Subaru replied softly, not meeting her eyes.  Even if she 
was only a part of his subconcious, she was still his older sister.  "I'm 
going to kill him for everything, and then I'm going to kill myself.  It's 
that simple.  No one will miss me anymore.  I've made sure of that."
        "You _idiot_, Subaru!  What have you done to deserve to die?!"
        Subaru was silent for a long moment, considering his answer.  "... I 
fell for the wrong person," he finally whispered.
        "Oh, Subaru...."

        Subaru woke from the dream to find that it was nearly three in the 
morning.  The lights were still on in his room, the sheets were all wrinkled, 
and his clothes were suddenly damn uncomfortable to sleep in.
        And he was very hungry.

*********

Hmm.  I discovered one thought: "No matter how bad it is, at least you aren't 
Subaru."