Tsubasa Chronicle Fan Fiction ❯ Addicted To You ❯ Addicted To You ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Tsubasa Chronicle. CLAMP does. (But if I did, you would be subjected to this kind of CRACK a lot). XD

 

 

Summary: Seishirou has a very bad habit of abusing his power to cross dimensions.

 

 

Addicted To You

 

 

“This has to stop, nii-san.”

 

 

Seishirou glanced dispassionately at his younger brother who was standing on the threshold of his home away from home, a refuge which he frequented when sojourning across multiple worlds took its toll on him, and wished he had never opened the door.

 

 

Fuuma stood there, scowling like he hadn't done since they were children and finally pushed his way inside once he realized he wasn't going to be invited in.

 

 

“What part of `never bother me when I'm at this house' did you not understand precisely?” Seishirou asked, shutting the door, annoyance clearly lacing his voice.

 

 

“Really, this has to stop,” Fuuma repeated, ignoring the question. “Not only is it unhealthy but it's also inhumane.”

 

 

“Strange, health issues never bothered you when you gorged yourself on sweets,” Seishirou stated, striding past him down the hallway.

 

 

“I'm not talking about sweets, and you know it!” Fuuma shouted, stalking after his brother. “You-you can not keep up this habit of yours any longer! This addiction you have of adding to your collection…it's going to blow up in your face someday!”

 

 

“It is very odd of you to start suddenly worrying about my hobbies, Fuuma-chan,” Seishirou said, entering the house's study and dropping himself onto a cushioned chair with an air of gracefulness. The man's lips drew back in a smirk as he continued, “Has dear Yuuko-san been on your case? She can't break through my own maboroshis to reprimand me so she gets you to come and talk some sense into me, no doubt spewing ludicrous theories in your ear of `damaging the fragile state of existence of infinite universes in a chance that they might spontaneously self-destruct due to so many similar links being removed and packed within one place' am I correct?”

 

 

Fuuma was wise enough not to admit that that was exactly what Yuuko-san had said word for word, so instead he settled for crossing his arms and saying in what he hoped was a confident voice, “Aren't you the least little bit disturbed that your...obsession has gotten so out of control?”

 

 

Seishirou blinked, and then replied in an amused tone, “Don't be fooled by that witch, little brother. She has it in her mind that I'm abusing my power to cross dimensions. She's merely angry that I've found a loophole in her contract that enables me to satisfy my cravings when I am fruitless on my quest. As for my obsession, I assure you, I have everything perfectly under control.”

 

 

Picking up a bell that sat on the coffee table nearby, Seishirou rang it and not even three seconds later, a pre-pubescent Subaru donned in a maid's outfit came briskly through the door to the adjoining room, answering the summons.

 

 

“Yes, Seishirou-san?” the boy inquired with wide green eyes, which he used to stare adoringly at the man.

 

 

“Would you be a good little boy and go fetch Seishirou-san a bowl of strawberries with that chocolate dip, Subaru-kun?” Seishirou said, beaming with pleasure that he was the object of Subaru's attention, before turning to ask, “Oh, yes, do you want anything, Fuuma-chan?”

 

 

Fuuma was too busy gaping at Subaru's choice of attire to be coherent.

 

 

“I don't think Fuuma is hungry at the moment, Subaru-kun,” Seishirou stated apologetically. “Run along now, and when you get back you can feed them to me.”

 

 

Subaru giggled and rushed back the way he had come, giving a full view of his backside which the maid outfit had been too short to cover, inadvertently flashing the frilly lace panties he was wearing beneath to the room's occupants.

 

 

“See, brother of mine? Perfectly under control,” Seishirou said with a smug smile, noting Fuuma still had not recovered his sense of speech.

 

 

Just then two more Subarus came barreling into the room, tumbling over each other in their haste. Fuuma was dimly aware that these two seemed to be hardly any older than nine.

 

 

“Seishirou-san!” cried one, looking a bit tearful. “We can't find Pochi anywhere!”

 

 

“I let him out in the garden,” said the other, his eyes red and wet. “I think he might have escaped and gotten lost!”

 

 

“We're sorry, Seishirou-san!” they voiced in unison, looking absolutely miserable and ashamed as they clung to their guardian and sniffled their apologies into the man's chest.

 

 

Seishirou thought they were adorable and leaned back in his chair, pleased they had put concern for his own feelings above their own for the missing puppy.

 

 

Fuuma didn't think there could possibly be anything more disturbing than his brother possessing three Subarus at once…when another Subaru entered the room and waited expectantly in the doorway.

 

 

He looked about sixteen age-wise and was blushing in an embarrassed manner, which Fuuma thought he had every right to be as he wore nothing but a towel wrapped pristinely around his waist.

 

 

“S-Seishirou-san,” he said, stuttering lightly. “I've prepared your bubble bath upstairs, so whenever you're ready…”

 

 

“Thank you, Subaru-kun,” Seishirou said smiling at him, his hands fondly caressing the top of the younger Subarus' heads, whose faces were pressed tight into his shirt, seeking comfort and forgiveness. “I'll be along shortly, and then you can massage my back with that special scented oil.”

 

 

Subaru-in-a-towel flushed a darker shade of red, nodded sharply and all but rushed out of the room as quickly as he was able.

 

 

“My god, nii-san, how many of them do you have now?” Fuuma asked, dreading the answer.

 

 

“Hmm, I think six, no wait, seven,” Seishirou said counting on his fingers. “There's the four you saw just now; another upstairs resting; then there's—”

 

 

“Seishirou-san?” came a soft voice and Fuuma groaned inwardly, not wanting to turn around and see, yet found himself unable to stop.

 

 

When he did, he was certain his eyes were going to pop from their sockets at the spectacle they beheld. It was the oldest Subaru seen so far, in his twenties and looking for all the world a housewife in his blouse, knee-length skirt, pink slippers and ruffled apron. But the reason Fuuma felt his heart had suddenly jumped into his mouth and he was slowly choking on it was the small bundle this Subaru was holding in his arms.

 

 

The small bundle that was crying loudly.

 

 

“OMIGAWD, TELL ME IT'S NOT YOURS!” Fuuma exclaimed, pointing at it, the room spinning dizzily around him. “TELL ME YOU DIDN'T FIND SOME HERMAPHRODITE VERSION OF YOUR OBSESSION AND MANAGED TO PROCREATE WITH HIM!!!”

 

 

The baby's cries grew louder at the sudden outburst, and Seishirou stood up from his chair like a king being made to step off his throne to fix some common task that his subjects were unable to deal with and gave the younger Subarus' heads a final pat

 

 

“Don't be absurd, Fuuma-chan,” he stated, walking over to where Housewife-Subaru stood and gently pulling the baby into his own arms. “This is Subaru too.”

 

 

It was only his staggering over to grasp the wall to support him that helped Fuuma not to faint.

 

 

“He wouldn't stop crying. I didn't know what to do,” Housewife-Subaru said with a worried expression, casting discreet glances over to where Fuuma stood, hyper-ventilating, that seemed to say he didn't think it prudent for a crazy man to be in the same room with an infant.

 

 

Of course Fuuma had his own opinion of just who was the crazy one here.

 

 

“There, there, my little Subaru-kun,” Seishirou crooned to the baby, rocking him back and forth. “Seishirou-san's here now. It's all right.”

 

 

The baby stopped its wailing immediately and began to coo and gurgle in delight as he recognized the voice and nestled in the security of the man's arms.

 

 

“Oh, Seishirou-san, you're so knowledgeable!” Housewife-Subaru gasped in awe with a little bit of hero-worship on the side.

 

 

Seishirou beamed at him, reveling in his admiration and the three of them together looked far too much like some picture-perfect family for Fuuma's own good.

 

 

“Under control?” he managed to croak out. “Under control?! You have a house packed full of Subarus and you think you have your obsession under control?!”

 

 

“Oh don't exaggerate like that,” Seishirou reproached his brother. “I don't even have an even dozen yet. That's my goal by the end of July by the way. It's just so hard finding them though. I swear I've visited more than a hundred worlds and even though I steadfastly run across that Miyuki-chan girl always with a piece of toast in her mouth, I rarely stumble upon a Subaru. So you can hardly berate me for taking one with me when I do get that chance and `adding to my collection' as you so eloquently put it.”

 

 

“This is no longer a collection—it's a blasted harem!” Fuuma exploded, throwing up his arms in frustration.

 

 

“Seishirou-san, what's a `harem'?” asked one of the younger Subarus innocently.

 

 

“Hush, Fuuma-chan. You're going to damage their delicate sensibilities with your adult vocabulary if you're not careful,” Seishirou chided before answering the boy. “A harem is simply another word used to describe another word for barber shop or salon. That reminds me—I need to make appointments for all of you. Your hair is beginning to look scruffy and while I think it's cute regardless, I like seeing my Subarus' gorgeous green eyes without having to part their bangs.”

 

 

The room lit up in four shy yet pleased Subaru smiles—even Baby-Subaru was grinning ear-to-ear from Seishirou's compliment and Seishirou was once again basking in the glow of his obsessions' veneration like an idol being worshipped.

 

 

Fuuma shook his head, realizing his brother had passed the point of no return. There was no way Seishirou was going to relinquish his grasp and return the Subarus to their rightful worlds peacefully.

 

 

“There's going to be repercussions for this, don't you believe otherwise,” he warned feeling a slight headache coming on, and wondered if it could be cured exiting this madhouse as quickly as possible and eating a giant ice cream sundae.

 

 

“What's this? More deranged witch ramblings?” Seishirou inquired amusedly. “If the universes somehow don't happen to wink out of existence for what I've done, I will have thrown the natural order of events off their intended course and caused day to be night, trees to become killers, and ultimately in the future, in some distant alternate world, have helped wreak destruction on mankind at the very least all because the fates-of-the-universes could not handle multiple withdrawals of the same person or some other such nonsense?”

 

 

“I'm merely advising you to remember there's such a thing called Murphy's Law, which states whatever can go wrong, will go wrong,” Fuuma said, narrowing his eyes.

 

 

“You're so very melodramatic today, Fuuma-chan,” Seishirou said with evident distaste. “Just admit the real reason you're not hooraying my ingenious solution to soothe my addiction is because you're jealous you didn't think of it first.”

 

 

“What?!” Fuuma exclaimed, looking incredulously at his brother. “What are you talking about?!”

 

 

“Don't play coy with me, dear brother. I know you wouldn't be complaining or be nearly this agitated if you had your own harem—excuse me, collection—of Kamuis flocking about you,” Seishirou stated, relishing his brother's bug-eyed expression and red face.

 

 

Fuuma stood stock-still for a moment, his body unable to move but his mind racing a hundred miles per second, caught up in a tantalizing fantasy of himself lazing on a beach on a tropical island—in a hammock between two palm trees, one Kamui gently rocking it back and forth, while another Kamui fanned him lightly with a giant palm leaf, another Kamui kneeled nearby feeding him grapes one by one while another served him pina colada as he watched two more Kamuis in grass skirts and coconut bras do a sexy hula dance with fire batons in front of him…

 

 

Fuuma let out a muffled pained cry and cupped his hand over his nose which had sprung a nosebleed suddenly.

 

 

Seishirou was smirking knowingly.

 

 

Fuuma glared at his brother and after regaining control of his nervous system, managed to croak out, “T-T-That's b-beside the point! Harrumph! Now if you don't mind, I'm going to take my leave before the anvil falls on your head.”

 

 

Then as if the fates were listening in to the conversation and decided to stir up some amusement, the doorbell rang and Fuuma knew as if struck by lightning that the time for his brother to reap what he had sown had at long last arrived.

 

 

“I'll get it!” shouted Maid-Subaru, rushing down the hallway to the door, just coming out of the kitchen with the requested strawberries and chocolate sauce.

 

 

“NO!” Fuuma yelled, whirling around and trying to stop him, but he was too late.

 

 

He could only watch in a numb sort of horror as the door was opened to reveal six furious, dangerous-looking, vengeful Seishirous standing on the front porch, all of them possessing a murderous glint in their eyes.

 

“S-Seishirou-san?” Maid-Subaru exclaimed in shock, blinking at the group assembled at the door, and then doing a double take at Seishirou standing in the study behind him. 

 

“That damn witch,” Seishirou growled out, catching sight of the newcomers and grasping a hold of the situation at once. 

 

“SUBARU-KUN, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!” screeched a teenage Seishirou, pushing his way to the front of the group and gaping at the Subaru which Fuuma supposed was from his world. 

 

“You don't l-like it? B-But you said it made you feel g-good inside when I wore it. Well, I guess it wasn't you—it was him…I mean he is you…you're him…all of you, that is….ah” Maid-Subaru trailed off looking very confused. 

 

“Seishirou-san, hey, guess what?!” exclaimed one of the younger Subarus, bouncing over to the door, ecstatic that his favorite person had somehow divided into several copies. “This you made us appointments at the harem later! Want to come with us? It will be fun!” 

 

“WHAAAAAAAAAAT?!”  came an enraged roar of unison. 

 

Then Subaru-in-a-towel came staggering down the stairs, covered in a foam of bubbles, holding a small bump on his head and sheepishly admitting he had accidentally spilled some of the special scented oil on the floor, slipped and fallen and knocked himself out for a short while and now the water in the bath had overflowed, and could he please be forgiven for his clumsiness. 

 

It struck the last nerves in the Seishirous, who gave each other sharp inquisitive nods before launching themselves at the doppelganger who had dared to steal their personal obsessions from them. 

 

Fuuma thought it amazing his brother had sense enough to shove Baby-Subaru into his arms before he was tackled to the floor by a pile of…well, himself, where a massive battle of kicking, biting, and fist fighting broke out. They rolled about the room in a ball of bodies, stirring up dust, crashing into furniture, screaming, swearing and cursing, while half a dozen crying Subarus ran about willy-nilly unsure of what to do, but not wanting any of their precious Seishirou-sans hurt. 

 

It would have been rather amusing, Fuuma mused, had it not been so disturbing. 

 

Finally at some point later, after a few minutes or so of non-stop fighting, the Seishirous had collapsed, breathing strenuously, with sweat, blood and bruises decked out across their bodies like glorious war wounds, and Fuuma realized in their brawl they probably had not given much thought to who-was-who and had all taken their fury out on whoever had happened to be the closest target. Now that they were spread out though, Fuuma could see they were all different ages, ranging from ten to around thirty-five, and it was easy to distinguish his brother from the rest. 

 

That could be because only one Seishirou was holding Sakura's feather all of a sudden though. Leave it to his brother to always have a trump card up his sleeve. Fuuma wondered if he was going to use it to escape or to defeat his other selves.  

 

However, it appeared as if Yuuko-san had informed the Seishirous of their duplicate's ace-in-the-hole, for all of them went on red-alert when they saw it in his grip. A Seishirou in his middle ages dealt a swift blow to the man's stomach, while the youngest Seishirou kicked both the man's knee-caps in with two fierce blows, and the teenage Seishirou leaped onto his back when he doubled over wheezing in pain and began simultaneously whacking his head in and tearing out tufts of his hair in vicious chunks. It was in this manner that a Seishirou in his twenties easily ripped the feather from the man's grasp and tossed it aside as he too got his share of licks in, while the two remaining Seishirous cheered the others on. 

 

Fuuma had to wince. As much as he had told his brother there would be repercussions for his actions, he had never honestly believed they would catch up to him. Seishirou had always been too quick for justice to bite him in the rear. It seemed fate was making up for it in spades today. 

 

In the end, after the six Seishirous had beaten his poor brother to a bloody pulp to their satisfaction and left him lying mangled and unconscious on the floor, they had left with their respective Subarus, giving each copy of themselves a warning glare to ward off anyone who had a similar idea of starting their own harem—ah, collection. And they were quite the odd pairings too. Housewife-Subaru turned out to be owned by the ten-year old Seishirou and was led out of the house by the boy (who was shorter than his waist), while a fifteen-year old Seishirou snatched Baby-Subaru from Fuuma's arms giving him a dirty menacing look. Subaru-in-a-towel was carried out wrapped in a blanket by the middle-aged Seishirou, while Maid-Subaru left with another Seishirou ten years older than him, and the two youngest Subarus were given piggy-back rides out of the house by two Seishirous in their mid-twenties.  

 

Fuuma stood there in shock as he watched all the really mismatched pairs go by before he had finally had enough and burst out, “YOU'RE A PERVERT IN EVERY DIMENSION!!!” 

 

The beauty of it was that his brother couldn't retaliate at all due to his injuries. 

 

oOoOoOo 

 

“Well I hate to say I told you so, but—” 

 

“Finish that sentence and you die.” 

 

“What are you going to do? Bash me over the head with your paper-mache arms?” Fuuma guffawed, smirking at the death ray glare his brother flashed him from his eyes—the only part of his body besides his mouth that was visible under a full-body plaster cast. 

 

“That damn witch doesn't know who she's dealing with. She'll get what's coming to her one day,” Seishirou swore vehemently. 

 

“You mean like you got what was coming to you?” Fuuma snickered. “You're just angry that you got outsmarted. You're ego's still reeling in shock that it's been out-schemed. Too bad, all your little trophy-pieces—history.” 

 

“I've still got one left. The witch missed one—she's not so clever after all,” Seishirou stated, sounding smug. 

 

Fuuma scrupulously eyed the last remaining Subaru sitting at his brother's bedside. It was the one who had been upstairs resting—the one who hadn't come down and had missed the whole fiasco. He couldn't shake the eerie feeling that something was very odd about this one. He was quiet and withdrawn and hadn't said much—only to ask if Seishirou was alright. He was tall and slim and appeared to be in his early twenties. He sat with his legs crossed, smoking a cigarette in a manner that said he'd had years of practice and stared at Fuuma with eyes that looked as if they had seen far too much—strange mismatched eyes: one emerald green, the other a startling golden color…a rather familiar golden color. 

 

“So, uh,” Fuuma said uncomfortably. “Where is your Seishirou anyway?” 

 

“I killed him,” the Subaru said in a flat monotone voice, exhaling a puff of smoke with cool ease. 

 

There was an awkward kind of silence for the next several seconds where you could hear a pin drop, before Fuuma said, “Um, right. Can't say as I blame you. I feel the urge too sometimes. I've got to go now. Enjoy your obsession, nii-chan!” 

 

“No! Wait!” Seishirou yelped in panic, twitching on the bed. “Don't leave me alone with him!” 

 

“Don't worry, Seishirou-san,” Subaru soothed gently, smiling insanely. “I'll take veeeery good care of you.” 

 

The last thing Fuuma heard before hopping worlds was his brother shrieking in a very un-Seishirou like fashion. 

 

Epilogue 

 

A short, short time later in a universe far, far away… 

 

A stretch of beach unfurls into the distance on a tropical paradise. The figure of a young man streaks madly across the sand, fleeing for his life. Hot in pursuit, a band of primitive, tattooed, spear-wielding black-haired, amethyst-eyed natives chase after their victim, the sound of his screams of terror drawing their blood-lust higher. They will feast well tonight.  
 

A collection of Kamuis would be hell, Fuuma, not heaven. Didn't the lesson with your brother teach you anything, silly boy? Tsk, tsk. 

 

To the rest of the mortals out there who have yet to learn: do not test the fates (or anger the Time Witch). 

 

The End 

 

A/N: Hello all! Why is it I never can remember what I want to say in these notes when I get here? I hope this fic sent you all into hysterics. I know I killed my beta temporarily with it! Leeayre, you okay? XD You guys should laud her, she's the one who helped me out on the ending and managed to make it even more crazy! Anyway, I think this scenario would be totally possibly, Seishirou is sadly that obsessed. And for those of you who have not figured out who the last Subaru was: it was him from the X/1999 manga, but I'm sure most people reading will know this. As for the battle, I hope no one was disappointed. I suppose I could have gone into a spell-illusion fight but that would have taken too long. Besides, I'm sure all the Seishirous would agree with me that it was much more satisfying to physically hurt the enemy themselves for once. You're probably a bit disappointed that TRC Kamui and Subaru didn't show up—well, who's to say they won't found out later in a sequel, hmmm?

Well, I hoped you enjoyed the madhouse I have written! Please share what parts you loved and your favorite scenes, thank you!