Destiny

Auron had only been in Japan once before. Not long after his birth, his parents had bundled up he and his twin and come to visit family. Presenting his first born to the clan - and a boy at that - had been gravely important to Sakurazuka Hiroshi. The fact that Hiroshi's grandmother had shunned his presence, and that of his American wife and half-breed children, had shamed the man greatly.

Auron's father never spoke of the event. His mother said nothing either. It was this silence that told him, over the years, how deeply the event had scared his father. How much it had hurt.

It was difficult, therefore, for Sakurazuka Auron to understand why they had flown thousands of miles from San Francisco to attend the funeral services of his second cousin. He had never met the man - had never met any of the clan - and the situation was perplexing. Dressed in a plain and severe black suit, he stood close to his sister, Asahiko. Both bowed many times as they were presented to a myriad of family members.

Auron would have been completely lost had his father not insisted that both he and Asahiko learn Japanese and speak it at home. As it was, both Auron and his twin felt uneasy. Asahiko, normally vivacious and outgoing, stood at her brother's side and nervously fiddled with the strand of pearls at her neck while Auron tried not to fiddle with his braid.

At the hotel, before their arrival at the funeral hall, Auron had quizzed his father about the situation. He did not want to be rude, or bring up sad memories for his father, but he also did not wish to bring shame by being unable to perform any duty that might be required. Auron was nothing if not a dutiful son.

"Otou-san," Auron said, "Explain to me again how I am related to this man."

Asahiko had been fussing with her long hair. Wearing something so bland as a plain black dress depressed her. She moved to Auron's side and began to adjust his tie. "When will you learn to tie a correct Windsor knot? You are hopeless," she muttered.

"He is the son of Setsuka, daughter of Yoshiko and Kiyoshi." Hiroshi's deep voice seemed incongruent coming from his almost diminutive form; he stood a full head shorter than his children. "Kiyoshi was my father's brother and first born. He led the clan until his death."

"Did Ojiisan have many siblings?" Auron asked. "How many people will I have to remember?"

Asahiko finished re-knotting his tie precisely. "There! Much better."

"My father had only one brother and one sister," Hiroshi replied. "Both are dead."

Auron frowned. "Then the clan is small?"

"No, Auron, it is quite large if you go back another generation. However, most of them no longer carry the name of Sakurazuka." Hiroshi's face had formed a worried frown. At the time, Auron had no way of knowing how concerned his father was or why. "There were many girl children born to the family, but few boys. You are one of the last men of the clan who holds the name of Sakurazuka."

The ceremonies were swift. Strangely enough, it seemed that his second cousin had no friends. Only family members attended the wake, and the cremation quickly followed. Though it did not seem odd to Auron, one of his father's cousins accepted the urn and the entire family quickly left the funeral chapel and made for Ueno Park. No priest came to chant the sutras. No altar had been erected. No incense was burned. Instead, the group gathered quietly around a tree.

Auron found it strange, but not for the reasons any Japanese person would have. He found it strange because the Sakura was in full bloom. Its gnarled and ancient bows were laden with the most beautiful pink blossoms that Auron had ever seen. The setting sun lit the sky in hues of orange, scarlet, and amethyst - blending in an ethereal way with the pale pink of the flowers. Auron longed to step forward and touch the tree.

"Otou-san," Auron whispered. "There were no friends or coworkers at the funeral chapel. Now we are here and this tree. It's so strange."

Hiroshi put a finger to his lips indicating silence. He pressed his lips near his son's ear and said, "The man was – a bit of a loner. He had a short and violent life. We will discuss it later."

A member of the clan stood forward. Auron had met the woman but could not remember her name. He honestly didn't think it mattered. She held the urn before her and spoke clearly.

"Sakurazuka Seishirou’s body will rest with his soul." The voice was laden with some emotion Auron could not identify. The final sentence sounded like a condemnation. "It will rest with his tree."

A chill passed through Auron at the words and he shuddered. He was suddenly reminded of his mother's funeral just a year ago. Asahiko, instinctively concerned, moved to her brother's side and took hold of his hand. They stood there, mirror images of each other and watched as the seal of the urn was broken. The woman then turned her back on those present and tilted it until the remains began to spill forth. She walked in a circle around the base of the flowering sakura. As she did so, Auron thought he saw the limbs shiver. Petals began to fall like tears from the tree as the ashes flowed from the urn – some of the soft buds drifted downward and stuck in Auron's long raven hair. When the woman had completed a full circuit around the tree, she upended the vessel to ensure that it was empty and then placed the thing in a natural nook created by twisted roots.

Wordlessly, the group simply disbursed into the sunset.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sumeragi Subaru watched from afar as people dressed in black and white began to arrive in the park. He was conflicted - but then he was always conflicted. It had been that way since Hokuto had given her life to the Sakurazukamori. His gaze flitted from one faceless form to the next as the group gathered at the base of the tree. He longed to join them - to take hold of the remains of his dead love and to perform the rites that he knew Seishirou's clan would not.

It was not to be.

Allowing his guilt to wash over him, tears fell in hot silent trails down Subaru's face. He could still hear Seishirou's dying words echo in his mind - still see the man's life-blood pooled beneath them both. The Sakurazukamori had died at Subaru's hand and the Sumeragi knew he would not be welcomed if he appeared.

Sighing, he made up his mind to leave. It was pointless to stay. All watching would do was allow him to wallow in self-pity and despair. He turned to go.

"Doing a little guilt salving, are we?"

Subaru's head jerked toward the sound of the voice. He hissed the reply. "Go to hell, Fuuma."

The Dark Kamui laughed and said, "Oh. I’m sure I will – Sakurazukamori Subaru."

Glaring at the use of the title, Subaru stepped closer to Fuuma. Though he knew it was courting retaliation, he withdrew a few ofuda and brandished them toward the man threateningly. "What do you want?" The words were forced through clenched teeth.

Amused, Fuuma arched an eyebrow. "Oh ,please! Do you really think you could beat me, Subaru? Besides, we're on the same team now, you and I."

The Sumeragi's eyes darted toward the tree as the rays of the dying sun flashed off metal. He turned his head and watched as a woman began to spill ashes out of the urn and onto the ground. Subaru couldn't stop himself. A strangled noise flew from his mouth as he gasped. "Seishirou-san..." he whispered.

Fuuma's eyes narrowed and he looked at Subaru intently. An odd expression crossed his face and he said, "Do you know fucked up it is to have a wish that can never be, Subaru?"

The slight young man's head snapped back to Fuuma. "What do you care about my wishes, you bastard?" he spat.

Making a careless shrugging motion, Fuuma ignored the insult. His voce made it clear he could care less about anyone's wish. "Well, now that you've switched sides, I figure I owe you one - for the eye."

"Hn." Subaru scoffed at the man in front of him. The Sumeragi was bitter now. "Domo arigato gozaimasu, Fuuma-san. How thoughtful of you."

Eyes roving over the now disbursing group of mourners, Fuuma's gaze settled on a young man with long black hair tied back in a braid. An eyebrow arched in interest as a young woman came to stand beside him and clasped her hand in his. He grinned. "Don’t mention it," Fuuma replied in a chipper voice. "Why not meet me for some ice cream later? We can talk about your Seishirou-san. I'm going to see what I can do about that wish."

Subaru blinked at the Dark Kamui in confusion as the young man pointed a finger at the now retreating form of the young man and his twin. "He should do quite nicely."

Grinning Fuuma waved and then he launched himself away from Subaru and up to the top of a tree. The Sumeragi watched as the young man perched like a strange bird of prey - his black coat fluttering around his legs. When the pair got into a cab with two other people, Fuuma darted off after his target.

He is insane. No one can grant my wish. Not even the Kamui.