Sakura and Snow
Chapter 5 (NC-17 version)
By Natalie Baan
Seishirou hung Subaru's coat on the rack and, shaking the last of the snow from his hair, stepped out of his shoes and up onto the floor. As Subaru bent to attend to his own shoes, Seishirou left him there, moving off somewhat aimlessly in the direction of the kitchenette counter. He felt secure enough at the moment to step away like that--he didn't think Subaru could muster the resolve to do anything without more time to recover. Besides, he needed to consider what he himself should do next. It was definitely a peculiar situation, and one that he didn't entirely grasp. He wasn't even sure why he'd brought Subaru back upstairs with him, let alone why Subaru had come.
He paused and glanced back. Subaru was sitting on the edge of the genkan to unlace his sneakers, his face wearing the closed look of utter exhaustion--exhaustion of the heart, not the body, although probably he was still weak physically as well. There had been too much shuttling back and forth between tension and relief, and Subaru always seemed to feel everything so intensely. Whatever closure he had achieved with his sister's ghost, the process could not have been easy.
What exactly it had been that had passed between them...Seishirou could only wonder about it, and that wondering reminded him of the distance he could not traverse, that space between himself and other people. He looked across the room at Subaru, and although with the damage to his eye he couldn't precisely gauge the width of the floor that separated them, he suddenly was aware of every inch of it, and what kept him apart was infinitely more vast.
Then his eye trailed up along the line of Subaru's body as the other finished with his laces and began to stand, and for a moment the rose fire of the healing magic came back to him: the fire, and the heat....
Perhaps there was a certain distance that he could cross, after all.
He walked back toward Subaru. As he approached, Subaru turned to look up at him, balancing awkwardly with one foot half-out of its shoe, his expression still translucent with shock. Seishirou stopped at the raised edge of the floor. With the extra height the step gave him, it was like looking down at the teenaged Subaru again, only the proportions of the tall, slender body were different, and the close-cropped hair, and the face.... He stared into the face that was raised to his for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, cupping a hand under Subaru's chin, and kissed Subaru gently on the lips.
He could feel Subaru become still, the mouth against his own going taut and surprised at the contact, but Subaru didn't struggle or try to break away. He held Subaru there another moment before releasing him. Then Seishirou straightened, gazing down into those eyes that were wide with startlement.
"I don't love you," Seishirou said. "But I want you." It was truth, as much truth as he had ever given Subaru. Seishirou followed the ripples that those words caused in the deep green water of Subaru's stare, the shifting, interlocking movement of emotions that had to be, at best, contradictory. He didn't wait to determine what exactly those emotions might be, or for Subaru to respond. Instead, he bent down again with patient slowness, never taking his eye from Subaru's face, from Subaru watching him draw nearer--and then Subaru tilting his head back, his eyes closing this time as their mouths touched once more and he yielded like cloud or water to the subtle pressure of the kiss. Seishirou let his own eyes shut, savoring the feel of the Sumeragi, that perfectly delectable surrender. He slid his arms around Subaru and kissed him more deeply, felt Subaru's lips trembling against his in the same way that sakura petals trembled the moment before the wind took them, and with the same softness, as Subaru's mouth parted for him and let him in.
Yes.
He was getting a crick in his neck, though.
Seishirou tightened his arms around Subaru, lifting him up. Startled, Subaru gasped as his feet left the ground; he managed somehow to kick off his shoes before Seishirou swung him over the floor. As Seishirou set Subaru down, he noticed that, now that they were on the same level, Subaru's eyes were just about even with his own chin.
Almost perfect....
He put his hands on Subaru's narrow hips and drew Subaru close against his body. He could feel Subaru shiver as they pressed together. He nuzzled into Subaru's hair, still spangled here and there with drops of snowmelt, kissed his face, his mouth, ended with a light, lingering brush of his parted lips against Subaru's, only a suggestion, before drawing back--and Subaru followed him, leaned marginally after him as he retreated, Subaru's eyes flickering open in confusion. They looked up into Seishirou's, and Seishirou read there fear--yes, more than a little--doubt and uncertainty, but also...wanting.
Seishirou grinned. He picked Subaru up again, scooped him entirely into his arms, and Subaru didn't fight it any more than he had as a boy all those years ago, only tensed a bit before relaxing warily into the carry, letting his own arms slide around Seishirou's neck and his head bow onto Seishirou's shoulder. He was certainly a lot easier to move when he wasn't dead weight. Seishirou got them both into the bedroom without any awkwardness, even in the narrow doorway.
There he set Subaru down on the bed--laid him back deliberately, and Subaru did not resist. Seishirou could tell from the sudden catch in his breathing that Subaru had at least some idea of what might be coming. He wasn't as perfectly naive as he had once been. Seishirou smiled and settled onto the bed as well. Leaning over Subaru, he resumed the kiss: slow at first but building in intensity as he felt Subaru answer him, Subaru responding so much more readily now, kissing back with deeper and wider passion as he learned the way of it--
Your first kiss, Subaru-kun? Was that truly your first kiss, and you're what, twenty-five now? I must say--even if it's you, I'm a bit surprised.
Am I really the first one to touch you...to be with you like this?
Did you save yourself only for me?
Seishirou found that a pleasing thought, and he let his tongue move once more between Subaru's lips, where quite possibly no one but himself had ever been. Subaru made a soft sound against him, and his arms came around Seishirou's body, pulling him close. Perhaps Subaru surprised himself with his own desire--he broke the kiss abruptly and turned his head to the side, breathing hard. Seishirou gave him a moment to think things over. Then he brought up his hand and touched Subaru's face, began running his lips along the curve of the other's jawline, tilted the head back and began kissing the slender throat, feeling Subaru tremble at the touch. He shifted all the way over onto Subaru, letting Subaru feel the weight on top of him, moved slightly against him, testing--
There's more, Subaru-kun.
Oh, yes.
He felt Subaru reacting to this in body and breath: reacting with desire, the slight frame quivering with it, the first hardness of awakening need beginning to press into Seishirou's thigh, an echo of his own. Subaru gasped quietly and tipped his head back further, arching his neck for Seishirou's exploration. Those arms wrapped about Seishirou's body shifted and began hesitantly to move. Subaru's hands traveled along the lines of Seishirou's back and shoulders, feeling the definition of his muscles through the still-damp cloth of his shirt; they slid up into his hair, tangling gently in the black strands...it felt good. Seishirou purred and continued to concentrate his own attentions on Subaru's throat, tugging down the collar of the black turtleneck in order to do so. One of Subaru's hands slipped forward to touch the right side of Seishirou's face--
Seishirou flinched.
"Sorry," Subaru whispered breathlessly, "I'm sorry...." He began to pull his hand away, but Seishirou seized it and held it where it was--not the touch itself, Seishirou decided at once, that had bothered him, only the unexpectedness of it, coming from his blind side. Seishirou rubbed his cheek against that captured hand, then kissed it, the palm, the long, graceful fingers, the back. He began to trace the Sakurazukamori star with the tip of his tongue, watching Subaru's eyes all the while and noting with interest the twinge of pain that they betrayed. Subaru knew perfectly well what the gesture signified, and yet he submitted to it wordlessly, with what seemed like acceptance. Such a thing was very typical of Subaru. Seishirou found that gentle nature no less foreign and intriguing than he ever had.
And as Seishirou closed the last side of the star and raised his head, he found himself still staring into those green eyes: eyes that were unguarded now, but at the same time unreadable beneath the surface impulses of fear and of desire, their liquid depths harboring an enigma that he didn't quite understand. He wanted that, he realized--wanted to own that mystery just as he owned so many other parts of Subaru--and that wanting, unwarranted and strange, somehow complemented and heightened the purely physical hunger that he felt.
To desire someone quite that much was new for him.
He found it rather extraordinary.
Releasing Subaru's hand, Seishirou laid claim to the other one. Deliberately, he performed the same slow ritual of caresses with lips and tongue that ended once more with the outlining of that sign carved invisibly into the flesh. Lifting his mouth from the back of Subaru's hand, Seishirou smiled.
Never doubt that you're mine, Subaru-kun. Never doubt that you belong to me.
I can't love you. Perhaps I can't really understand you for what you are....
But I can have you.
And I will.
He was fairly certain, as he let go of that hand, that Subaru also understood these things.
Seishirou began to rake his fingers up and down Subaru's chest and stomach unhurriedly, in long, covetous lines, tracing the shape of the body beneath the turtleneck's thin cloth. Feeling Subaru's nipples already erect, he brushed fingertips against them, a feather-light and teasing touch through the shirt's fabric, encouraging their hardness. It amused him to see Subaru's instant reaction to even that muffled contact, and so Seishirou played with him a bit longer, laying soft, intimate touches on Subaru through the barrier of his clothing and observing his delightful small shudders at those no more than half-realized sensations.
Finally Seishirou tired of that game and decided to move on. Tugging Subaru's shirt out of his jeans, Seishirou slipped a hand under it, caressing the flat hollow of Subaru's stomach. He stroked his fingers up Subaru's sides as the young man writhed exquisitely, then caught the shirt and pulled it all the way up, drawing it off over Subaru's head and sending the dark hair into a disarray that was half dampness and half static. Stripping the shirt from Subaru's arms, he tossed it aside. His mouth descended onto Subaru's neck again, now that it was bared entirely--sucked at the skin, played gently over those places where the bruises he'd left earlier that day still lingered, licked at the hollow of Subaru's throat. He felt Subaru's fingers then, fumbling at his wrist; turning his head, he observed with amusement that Subaru was trying to get the buttons at his cuff undone.
Sitting up astride Subaru, Seishirou offered his wrist where Subaru could reach it more easily. Subaru undid those small buttons with intensely focused concentration, then the ones on the other sleeve as Seishirou brought that arm forward as well. Seishirou tilted his head back and to one side, staring at the wall with half-lidded eyes, while those gentle fingers moved against his throat (danger, long-held instincts murmured, danger, but with a slight effort of will he chose to ignore them) and then traveled down his chest, button by button, finally pulling the front of his shirt out of his pants to get at the last few. Seishirou inclined his head to gaze to down at Subaru again, and he smiled. He shrugged the shirt off in a slow roll of his shoulders, aware of Subaru's eyes upon him...no, not all that bad, he was sure. And as he let the shirt fall over the edge of the bed and moved his hands to the belt of Subaru's jeans for the next stage of undoings, he returned the favor, taking in with an amused scrutiny everything that was revealed as Subaru's clothes continued to come away.
There was nothing unpleasant in Subaru's form, he decided. Even that almost painful thinness--there was a certain spare beauty in it, with nothing of excess. It was as though the boyish slenderness had been drawn out, attenuated in the young man, had become all long limbs and lean, arching lines like a graceful sapling, a subtle play of flesh over the bone. In his paleness and apparent fragility Subaru seemed ethereal, as if he might at any moment vanish into the bed. But he was warm and alive, he responded to the touch...he shuddered again as Seishirou slid the jeans and shorts off over his hips, releasing him, inhaled sharply as Seishirou trailed fingers up the length of his shaft....
Human, indeed.
Smoothly Seishirou divested himself of the rest of his own clothes. Then he allowed Subaru to explore him briefly in turn, to touch him with shy, hesitant touches that made pleasure flower in him almost startlingly. He nearly closed his eyes as Subaru's hand encircled him, a tentative stroking that raised the need he already felt into fiercely throbbing urgency--
No.
Controlling himself, he reached down to interrupt gently the movement of Subaru's hand.
Not yet.
There was a lot more to be done, first.
And then Seishirou began the seduction for real: began to stroke his prey afire, every nerve and every fiber of his body; to claim Subaru yet again, this time with the pleasure. He ran his hands and mouth over Subaru's body without haste, learning its ways and studying Subaru's reactions. He permitted himself to miss nothing, not the slightest flutter of motion or whisper of sound, and he returned again and yet again to those places that brought response, retracing those pathways, wearing them deeper, shaping them to accommodate greater and greater ecstasy. He felt the hammering of Subaru's pulse against him as he did these things, listened to the occasional low, half-suppressed cry, and he watched, when he was able to--when he was not otherwise occupied, his head lowered to take into his mouth the small rose peaks of Subaru's nipples or to taste the vulnerable skin of the onmyouji's throat--watched the flashes of sensation pursuing each other across Subaru's wonderfully expressive face and eyes.
He brought Subaru to the edge, finally, with the steady, rhythmic motion of his hand sweeping up and down Subaru's length, matching the arch and surge of Subaru's hips as Subaru responded to him, to that touch--brought him there and then left him without warning, letting him fall back from that verge. He pulled his mouth from Subaru's, his fingers uncurling from Subaru's shaft before the other could quite break through into release. Subaru moaned.
His timing had been good, Seishirou thought, watching the small shivers of near-orgasmic pleasure fade, feeling the sudden spike of sexual energies in Subaru's body returning for the moment to a lower pitch. Then, with deliberate slowness, Seishirou moved his hand between Subaru's thighs, caressingly but careful not to give Subaru any means of reaching climax. He parted Subaru's legs, letting his touch slide downward and back until he found what he was seeking.
He pressed two fingers inside of Subaru.
He could feel the instant tensing of Subaru's entire body, and looking into Subaru's eyes he read easily enough the realization that was dawning there.
Oh yes, Subaru-kun. Just exactly like that.
Only, more so.
He leaned into Subaru against that tightness, feeling for...there. Subaru jumped at the touch. He quaked as Seishirou's fingertips found the sensitive area of his prostate and began to knead it. Turning his face away, he shut his eyes.
"Subaru-kun," Seishirou murmured, sliding his other arm around Subaru and pulling him into a close embrace, his lips grazing up the side of Subaru's neck and into the hair, his breath fanning the black silk strands. He half-lifted Subaru, half-turned him, still gently working his fingers inside Subaru's body, until at last the tension in that closed, inward-focused expression eased just slightly: became acceptance of this new feeling, this different and strange pleasure mixed with pain.
At that, Seishirou slipped his fingers from inside Subaru. He pressed Subaru face-down onto the bed. Sliding his hands up onto Subaru's hips, he guided himself into position, and then, without hesitation, he pushed sharply in. He entered Subaru's body through that narrow gateway, feeling the intense tightness of it and the heat, the rough pleasure that it could afford him, and Subaru surrendered to this as well, only making a brief cracked sound and clenching his fist in the bedspread.
Seishirou pulled back a little, then thrust forward again, more deeply. Dimly, he heard Subaru groan. It was all that one might want, that fever-hotness and that fierce constraint, and he could feel his own breathing threaten to become ragged and more urgent. He controlled it and began to move within Subaru in a sure, swift cadence, sensation growing as he did so like a tide being raised toward storm-height, higher with each wave of motion. Putting a hand beneath Subaru, he took hold of him once more and stroked him in accompaniment to the surging of their bodies.
He was aware of the slight, slick sheen of sweat that covered both their skins--he lapped at Subaru's shoulder greedily, letting the salt taste break upon his tongue. He could feel the hard angle of Subaru's pelvic bone digging into him a little, could feel Subaru, having already been so near once, suddenly arch back against him and gasp, and then go still except for a faint quivering and the wet stickiness spilling across Seishirou's hand; but these things were losing importance in the face of his own imperative. He began plunging in and out of Subaru, faster now--faster--feeling the fierce pulsations of pleasure as they expanded rapidly, demanding more attention, insisting on more--
He drove into Subaru again--
--and again.
Again--
And the last wave broke, a rushing culmination that raced through him in ripples of flame. He breathed into it, into that abrupt release, and lunged into Subaru one last time, possessing the onmyouji absolutely and completely as ecstatic pleasure burst in bright, hot drops inside his mind and body, like his seed breaking free into the darkness of Subaru's flesh. Fire flooded him, all of him, indescribably, and then, slowly, it fell away. He watched it go, watched each echo passing through him before vanishing once more...vanishing, like a disturbance on the surface of a lake that smooths itself out, the water returning inevitably to quiet and to calm.
Seishirou looked down at the slender V-shape of Subaru's torso, at the back of his dark head, his face hidden in the crook of his arm. He felt simply the clean, empty lassitude that usually followed climax. It would be easy and pleasant to abandon himself to that, to lie down and drift in the quietness that followed release, but he probably shouldn't. He sat up, withdrawing from Subaru's body, pulled his hand out from under Subaru and wiped it absently on the bedspread. He would have to wash that later.... Rising, he went to the closet and got his robe, taking it with him as he went into the bathroom to cleanse himself of the traces of blood and come. When he came out a few minutes later, Subaru hadn't moved significantly.
Perhaps he had fallen asleep.
Wandering out into the main room, Seishirou collected his lighter and cigarettes from the coffee table. He took one of the stools from the eating side of the counter and swung it around into the kitchenette. He sat down there, in the half-light that reached him from the living room fixture, and lit up a cigarette. Slowly he breathed in the rich, familiar smoke.
The experience had been entirely satisfactory.
In a way, though, there was something almost disappointing about that.
Whether he came at the hands and mouth of a soapland girl, or in the body of his enemy and other, the physical pleasure was very much the same: enjoyable enough, while it lasted, but just as brilliant and as transient as any other thing. He could not build upon it...he could not make it into that human connection.
And it didn't tell him anything about what it was to love.
He knew better than that, of course. After all, it was foolishness to think that sex could solve anything. For what the evening had been, it had been very good, and he took it for that, and savored it, and then set it away, gently, into memory.
Seishirou heard sounds of movement from the other room then, and he put his reflections aside, becoming attentive again: listening and waiting. It seemed his "guest" was awake after all. In a little while, Subaru appeared in the doorway. It took him a few moments to locate Seishirou, sitting in the unlit kitchenette; when he did, he approached haltingly, almost disjointedly, as if neither body nor mind were quite functional yet. He probably was sore, too, and Seishirou realized that they should perhaps have used some sort of lubrication. Subaru had put his jeans back on, but he was barefoot and wore Seishirou's shirt. Seishirou wondered if that was significant, or if it had simply been the first article of clothing that had come to hand.
As Subaru came to the end of the counter, Seishirou pushed the cigarette pack wordlessly toward him, and this time Subaru accepted, tapping one out with quiet dignity and a steadiness that belied the awkwardness he'd shown coming across the floor. He didn't meet Seishirou's gaze, however. Seishirou held out his lighter, and as Subaru leaned close the flame's glow flickered over his face, the gold of it flowing across his pale skin, leaving shadows here and there, at the line of his jaw, and in his half-closed eyes. The cigarette caught, and Subaru straightened up and nodded, murmuring a polite thank you, then retreated. There was a wooden chair in one corner of the kitchenette--Subaru went over and curled himself up on it, as if trying to make himself unobtrusive, and then lapsed into stillness, doing nothing but staring into space. Seishirou watched him for a minute, but he didn't seem to notice, lost in whatever thoughts might be going through his mind.
Perhaps there were no thoughts at all. Perhaps Subaru had withdrawn into himself and was merely existing until the next force came to act upon him. He had been like that occasionally in times past...perhaps he still could be.
Leaving part of his attention on the onmyouji, Seishirou returned to his own silent musings.
No, nothing had really changed in him, but now he was aware of the motivation that had escaped his conscious mind until tonight: aware of that hunger, that hidden need...that loneliness. He was a bit disturbed that he could act on such an impulse for so long without recognizing it. If there was one thing that he counted on, one thing that was true and certain in his life, it was his own self-identity, the knowledge of who and what he was, that intimate familiarity with his capabilities and with every aspect of his mind, heart, and body.
Sakurazukamori. That was the largest part of it, as necessary to him as breathing: the piece of him that gave shape to all the rest.
Being the killer, being the cherry tree barrow guardian....
Should he be lonely?
Should he permit it?
Seishirou stubbed out his cigarette and clasped his hands thoughtfully before his mouth. It was a difficult question. For a brief moment he found himself wondering if any of the others who had come before him had felt loneliness, wondered if they had been capable of love, or if that lack was unique to himself.
Then, he shrugged. Really, he didn't care. Whether they had been like him or not--
It didn't matter.
There was only himself now, and the one important thing was that he recognized what lay within him, acknowledged it, and then took steps to make certain that it served his will. A "feeling" couldn't betray him as long as he was aware of it, as long as he was watching out for its effects.
And now, he was.
There was a short, violent burst of coughing from the corner, as Subaru's newly healed throat and lungs protested the cigarette. Seishirou smiled wryly to himself. Funny that it had been the healing spell's return that had broken him open, that had cracked his mind wide enough to let him see such things. Just as he had used that living flame of power to clear away the shadows that had clouded Subaru's body--to restore Subaru to a normal state of health--in just that way the magic had tried to "restore" him, opening him up inside to reveal this hidden thing. He had meant to probe Subaru's damaged heart and instead had found something quite surprising in himself.
Healing out, healing back, although not as I might have intended it...and because there wasn't any "harm," my protections didn't function. I understand now. Still, I can't help but wonder, Subaru-kun, if you hadn't warded me then...
...what might you have found, when I woke up.
That feeling of disintegration, which he remembered quite clearly from his dream, the pull from that fractured sky....
Would he even have been recognizable as himself?
It's ironic, isn't it, Subaru-kun? In trying to protect me, you may well be the reason that I'm still the person I am. Still the same person...in the end, I haven't really been changed.
It's ironic.
Seishirou shrugged again, abandoning that thought, and returned to the issue at hand. What should he do about that "loneliness"? What action, if any, could he take? To block the ache from his mind would be at best a temporary solution, no more than what he had already done for years unconsciously, and he suspected that trying to eradicate it completely would somehow be unwise. In any case, he found as he considered the matter that he didn't particularly want to make that attempt, didn't want to lose even that slight, strange awareness of lack. Even this "feeling," odd and uncomfortable as it was...it was still a part of him. And anything that was part of him, he would not let go.
So instead of destroying it he would leave it be, Seishirou decided, simply remaining at all times aware of its existence and its possible ramifications, in much the same way that he would allow Subaru himself walk out that door tonight and live for the few brief weeks until the final storm broke and he died as Seishirou had always intended that he should. It was overconfidence, perhaps, that Seishirou considered both Subaru and the need he answered to be acceptable dangers. Perhaps that surety was a weakness in and of itself. But he was aware of that too. It also was a part of him, and he would no more relinquish it than he'd allow his eye and his will to leave the prey that he had chosen.
He would not let Subaru go...at least, not permanently.
After all, Subaru's life--and death--still belonged to him.
For tonight, though, Subaru could certainly leave: just like the little bird in a nukume dori painting, allowed to escape the falcon's claws and fly into the sudden respite of an open sky. Yet sooner or later the day would come for it, too, and the little bird would fall, its bright feathers scattering over the snow.
He had always liked that image.
Seishirou nodded to himself, then glanced at Subaru.
"Subaru-kun, wake up. You're going to fall off the chair."
Subaru sat up with a start. He uncoiled partway from his seat, putting one foot down on the floor, and as he moved the long tail of ash at the end of his cigarette fell off onto the linoleum. "Sorry," he began automatically, and fumbled for the ashtray on the end of the counter.
Seishirou couldn't help smiling slightly at Subaru's obvious and very appealing confusion. Still so easily flustered, even now.... Reaching into the cabinet underneath the sink, Seishirou pulled out the dustpan and broom. He went over to where Subaru was sitting and, kneeling, began to sweep up the spilled ash. "Go and get dressed," he said gently. "I'll call a cab for you this time. On a night like this, to find one just driving by--I doubt you'll be so lucky again."
"I want to stay with you."
Seishirou glanced up at Subaru, the briefest of glances, and then dropped his eyes, hiding his amused expression. He had rather thought so, seeing Subaru come out of the bedroom in his shirt. It seemed that Subaru was once more beginning to harbor illusions about the person he was, as well as about what this night might possibly mean. Seishirou bent forward, chasing a bit of stray ash that had fallen under Subaru's chair. "Don't be silly, Subaru-kun. You can't stay here--"
"I know what you are."
The sudden, raw starkness in Subaru's tone stopped him at once. His gaze flicked up again.
"Sakurazukamori," Subaru said, the word taut and fierce, spoken with a strangely complicated intensity. "I know. I want to stay." Seishirou found himself staring at Subaru, into the shadowed places of those green eyes that had always communicated far more than language could for Subaru...and indeed, Subaru's voice faltered a little as he met that stare.
"If- if you'll have me," he said.
Of course, there were all sorts of very good reasons why Subaru absolutely could not stay. Seishirou reached for them, but he found that they somehow weren't coming to mind--were scattering even as he looked for them, like light fracturing on ripples of deep green water. Subaru was still looking at him, those beautiful eyes filled with something aching, and Seishirou wasn't at all certain of what it meant.
Then Subaru reached out toward him, moving very slowly, a deliberate and careful gesture that couldn't be construed as danger. No, not even a spell...he pushed his fingers into Seishirou's bangs and lifted them, brushing them aside, then ran that quiet touch like rain down Seishirou's cheek. His hand slipped behind Seishirou and drew him forward--drew him down until Seishirou's head was resting on Subaru's knees.
Subaru began to stroke his hair with gentle fingers.
And just for one moment, Seishirou closed his eyes.
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