If you could wish for something...just one thing...what would it be?
I would wish to be happy.

~!~
Your kiss was bittersweet,
Your eyes were crying tears of glass,
I was afraid that if I touched you
your dreams would shatter
like those glass tears
that broke across the ground
in perfect crowns from perfect
blue eyes.
Your kiss was bittersweet,
like chocolate,
but it all melted away
and those glass tears fell
to the sound of a sad song
played on the broken record player...
and here I sit alone,
I miss those tears,
I miss those chocolate flavored
kisses...
I miss being bittersweet.

You could say Keisuke Yuuki was happy. He had a great family, an adorable little sister who was about to get married to a wonderful guy, a rich best friend and had a stable life. But Keisuke Yuuki was not happy, there was always something missing. Whenever he went to sleep at night he was fretting, and when he woke up he felt empty. Even when he smiled somewhere inside, he ached. And so he made a wish.

I wish to be happy.

And perhaps Kami-sama is too busy to bother with little wishes. Perhaps God doesn't deal in mortal affairs that way, maybe Zeus doesn't play favorites anymore... but worls away, or a couple pages, the Patron God of a broken country heard. And he heard another wish.

I wish to be forgiven.

And Seiryuu was a god afterall. A god that granted wishes.

~!~

Keisuke blinked several times, trying to clear the after-glow of the football game from his eyes. The score 44 to 7 was imprinted in his brain however and he lamented the loss of his favorite American team. And a loss on Christmas Even none the less! He hoped that someday Japan would get a team over to that Super Bowl and cause some series damage. Maybe in the next millenium if he was lucky. The doorbell rang, not insistently like Miaka, nor harshly like Taka (he always jams the button with too much force) and it wouldn't be Tetsuya because the bastard (meant in the most positive of ways) would just use his key. The older Yuuki sibling mumbled and tripped over the vaccuum cleaner to get there. Cursing he opened the door.
"Hello?" And blinked several times yet again. A young man in chinese style clothing looked into his eyes, hands wrapped around an expsensive bottle of wine and replied.
"Konbon wa...Yuuki-...san..." Suboshi as he had been known, or that psycho-boy (by Tetsuya), bowed a little, a faint pink tinge gracing his cheeks.
"Su-su-Suboshi...or is it Amiboshi?" Keisuke spluttered.
"Suboshi. Aniki's dead." The latter half of the sentence was said with such force that Keisuke took a step back.
"...I thought you were too,"
"Seiryuu is a god who grants wishes. Didn't you wish for something?"
"...Come in," Suboshi obliged as the Suzako no Miko's brother rushed about to stuff various things into closets. A look of wonder crossed the Seiryuu no Seishi's face.
"I've never seen so many lights...and other...things!" He said joyfully, like a little kid.
"What's with the wine?" Keisuke asked.
"This? Seiryuu-sama gave it to me,"
"Do you drink wine?"
"No...I don't drink at all, aniki said it was bad," It was funny, Keisuke thought, that Suboshi passed everything through a filter made by his brother. Every move he made was in accordance to some sort of preset guideline Amiboshi had set. He doubted that the older sibling had any idea of how Suboshi depended completely on him. Even after he had died, Amiboshi was still the only thing that kept Suboshi in line.
"Merry Christmas," Keisuke said cheerfully, drawing himself away from gloomy thoughts, "Hungry?"
"Don't pretend you like me," Keisuk stopped what he was doing.
"huh?"
"You hate me. You hate everything I stand for...I hate me too,"
"Why?" It had been a long time since Keisuke had talked to Miaka like a brother, to Testsuya like a close friend...to anyone with any depth. The strange happy-hate look on Suboshi's face was heart wrenching, maybe only because Keisuke knew what it was for. It was for Yui, for Miaka, for Amiboshi, for Tamahome's family...and for himself. Suboshi could feel, and he could kill. He could feel sorry and angry, vengeful and betrayed.
"...You know. I ripped their bodies apart...and while I did, I didn't care. In fact, I might have liked it! I hate, and I kill," Suboshi smirked and continued on his verbal assault, " I would have raped your sister...raped her and felt like I was serving justice. I am naive, and easily used....easily taken advantage of. And afterall...she won, your sister did," His voice reached a high point and then spiraled down from there, to a bare nothing.
"I know," Keisuke answered, "I know,"
"And its the victors who will rewite history...so how will you put it?" Suboshi glared at him, wine cradled under him.
"As it was, I'm sure there were reasons on both sides. Would you tell me yours?" Suboshi stopped glaring and just stared.
"...usotsuki..."
"Tell me," He demanded, using his firm older brother's voice. Suboshi folded under it far too readily, as if he pretended Keisuke was his brother.
"Hai...aniki..."

~!~

...It was not a battle of great victors, or savagery. In fact, it was more of a battle of despiration, hope, and things to come. So as you leave this story, don't look to the past and who have wronged you, but to the future... Keisuke stopped typing, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen. Funny...how his life worked. He had about a book's worth here, a book's worth of an adventure in a book, a kiss on the cheek and...an empty bottle of wine. And...He was happy.

It is not what you left behind, because the past is more mellow than wine.

Eck. I've been out of this fandom for so long it hurts to remember their names. .