*Mild panic attack in this chapter

Senses

Omoide reluctantly reaches for the door, he notices a doorway covered by a curtain to his left.  He turns and reaches to open the curtain sliding it to the side.  Through a short hallway, he sees a walk-in closet with a clothing bar where his suits, dress pants, and shirts have been hung on one side and cubbies where his shoes have been neatly stored on the other.  'Keibiin' he smiles to himself.

As he walks further into the closet he realizes it's L-shape, turning back to the left in the direction where the onsen would be.  He sees a small window at the other end of the room and walks over to it.  Looking out, he can see where the overflow of water from the onsen meanders down a stone creek-bed and ends in a large koi pond. 

Once again, his eyes behold the beauty of everything they can take in.  Even in the growing darkness, he can see the koi gliding gracefully under the water, surfacing every now and again to try and catch water bugs and other insects temped by the warm water and plant life. 

Everywhere there are lights.  By the base of every cherry tree, in the branches and along the banks of the pond.  Some float within the pond water casting light downward allowing a glimpse into the water world beneath the surface. 

The sound of flowing water tumbling over the rocks and bubbling of the natural spring overrides the sound of his own breath and silences any internal thoughts.  Night songs from the insects and other creatures accompany the water sounds making a soothing natural symphony that rivals any manmade music he has ever heard.

A fresh breeze comes through the open window and brushes through Omoide's still damp hair further allowing it to run wild and at will atop his head.  Closing his eyes, Omoide breathes in deeply and allows all of it to seep into his very soul.

As he exhales, he turns around and sinks down onto the padded bench situated under the window.  Everything suddenly overwhelms him and he breaks down.  His face rests in his open hands as he sobs gently.  He tries to get himself under control by raising his head and taking deep breaths, but this only causes him to openly cry, gasping for air between pained wracked exhales. 

He tries to understand the feelings running rampant though his heart and soul.  Not understanding why he would ever want to take away his ability to see, hear, and feel these all of these things that make up the world around him.  How could he have understood what he would be missing or, was the pain of loss so devastating that loosing everything, all of this, was the only way.

He continues to openly cry, becoming boneless and slumping to the ground.  The soft, thick carpet is warm under his hands and knees as he falls onto his side and curls in on himself.  He feels helpless and alone with no one to turn to and no where to run to. 

But suddenly, like the flash of lightning hidden behind the clouds, he sees faces before him.  Keibiin's serious face but with a raised eyebrow when he says something out of character. 

Sumi's playful expressions and teasing eyes as she tries to draw him into one of her jokes that he really doesn’t understand. 

Harold's face with those eyes that always seem to be searching for more meaning in everything around him.

Omoide feels himself start to relax a bit, his breathing eases and his tears slow.  He can feel the trails on his cheeks where his tears have run, start to dry and stiffen.  Keeping his eyes closed, he begins to breathe deeply, calming himself.  His mind keeps moving the faces of those he knows and cares for around in his mind.  He feels  himself becoming more and more grounded as he unwraps from his protective cocoon.

Propping himself up on one arm, he slowly opens his eyes.  They are stiff and itchy but he refrains from rubbing them.  With one more cleansing breath, he rises to his feet and stands upright, moving back to the window and looking out over the tranquil scene once again.

Omoide can take it all in now.  He can take the feelings conjured by what he senses and use them to shore up his resolve and face whatever feelings come next, now that his Desire has fully awakened.

Sitting back on the bench once again, he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes.  Omoide basks in everything his senses can touch.  He thinks about the people in this place and how they make him feel.  He says their names aloud as their faces pass through his mind again. "Keibiin……. Sumi…… Harold…..Ben-ji-min"

As the last name finishes on his lips, Omoide stiffens.  He hadn't thought of Benjimin before, when he was in crisis and so, so lost.  But now, so many images of Benjimin pass through his mind, making his heart begin to race and warmth spread through his entire soul and pouring out, flooding his body.

He feels the need to see Benjimin with his own eyes, to hear his voice and make sure he is truly on the mend. 

He moves quickly, choosing the closest pieces of clothing he can find.  He doesn't even pause to look at himself in the mirror as he exits the changing room and hurriedly passes through the bedroom and reaches out for the door handle but stops suddenly.

His vision begins to blur as he feels his consciousness being pulled from this plane. "Why now?  So soon after the last summoning?"  Omoide says as he turns and stumbles to the bed.  He barely makes it to the bed and lies back before his consciousness and soul are pulled from this realm to meet his god.

—————

Omoide is weightless, his consciousness like a fine mist and his soul is like a pulsating golden orb, circle each other in the fading darkness.  He wills both to merge and take the shape of his form left behind.  He can now sense himself as a more solid form, feeling gravity and a solid surface beneath his body. 

As his equilibrium returns, he sits upright and spreads his hands out beside himself.  He doesn't feel the cool blades of grass nor the suppleness of the leather office chair.  He feels soft warmth and gentle scents of lavender and mint.

Opening his eyes slowly, he realizes he is sitting on a oversized bed with a billowy white comforter thrown over his legs.  He looks at his hands and sees long white sleeves with lace cuffs that cover his hands. 

The bed dips beside him as rustling fabric can be heard.  The scent of lavender and mint grow stronger.  A gentle warm breath is felt on his shoulder.  Omoide turns his head slowly taking in his god's face as it's so close to his own.

"Tamashii, my god.  What do you require of me?" He asks trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice but it doesn’t get past Tamashii.

"My soul, Omoide.  You sound different.  As if you are not happy to have been summoned by your god."  Tamashii gently strokes his finger over Omoide's forehead as he moves a stray piece of hair and tucks it behind his ear.

"I am just surprised, Tamashii.  It has only been a few hours since I was last summoned."  Omoide answers while moving to the edge of the bed to stand up.

"You are aware that the concept of time in my realm is deferent than on the world plane, do you not, Omoide?"  Tamashii himself begins to follow Omoide across the bed as well.

Omoide stands and straightens his clothing.  "I apologize, my god." He bows cups his hands in front of him and bows slightly to Tamashii who has now also risen from the bed and is standing very close to Omoide.

"No need, my soul.  I felt your Desire fully awakened and determined that it would be best if I brought your soul to me for comfort, if needed."  He reaches out and takes both of Omoide's hands in his.

"How are you feeling, Omoide?  Now that your Desire has awakened fully, are you sure this is what you want?  Are you sure that you can continue as omoidenobannin, for my 100 original souls?  Will you not be overwhelmed by their pain and emotions as it was before?"  Tamashii touches Omoide's chin and turns his head so they are looking into each other's eyes.

The color in Tamashii's eyes begins to swirl, changing to an even deeper blue that is almost black.  Omoide can feel his magic rising in his own eyes as he is gently pulled closer to his god's face.

"What do you feel when we are close like this?  When my magic is reaching out to yours?"  Tamashii whispers against Omoide's lips just before he closes the distance and presses their lips together.

The kiss is soft and warm, leaving both pairs of lips tingling in the exchange of magic.  Omoide feels something tugging at his soul, like the cord is being shortened.  He wants to follow that sensation, to be closer to the much brighter and warmer soul before him.

He feels Tamashii begin to pull away, ending the kiss but Omoide panics at the thought of loosing his god's light and warmth.  He places one hand behind Tamashii's head, gently keeping their lips connected.  His other hand grasps Tamashii's waist, pulling their bodies tightly together.

Tamashii responds in kind, taking Omoide into his own embrace.

Content that they will remain connected, that he will continue to bask in the light and warmth of his god, Omoide relaxes and allows Tamashii to lead their connection and exchange of magic. 

After what seems like only minutes, Omoide begins to feel like he is fading into sleep.  He is warm and content, feeling safe, he allows himself to fall into an unconscious sleep-like state.

Tamashii breaks the kiss when he feels Omoide give up the last of his magic to him.  He easily picks him up and lays him back onto the bed.  Pulling up the cloud-like comforter, he covers Omoide and folds his hands over his stomach. 

"There was so much anguish in your magic, my soul.  Are you sure you can handle your desire again?   I don't want you to suffer and I will always be here to take those burdens from you."  Tamashii smiles and brushes the stray hairs from Omoide's forehead.

Tamashii cups Omoide's face in his hands and leans down to whisper against Omoide’s forehead, “Time for you to return, my soul.”  He gently kisses Omoide’s forehead as his image begins to fade back to the glowing orb of his true soul.

——————-

Omoide stretches and yawns, not opening his eyes just yet.  He knows he has just returned from a summoning and allows his senses to return slowly.  Nothing seems out of place.  There is no confusion or disorientation.  His skin isn’t overly sensitive as he acknowledges that he is fully dressed and laying on the bed.

Slowly opening his eyes, he realizes it’s morning now, or at least it’s lighter outside the windows than it was when he was summoned.  He gently moves his limbs, one at a time but doesn’t feel any discomfort or stiffness.  In fact, he feels like he has actually gotten the best sleep he can remember.

Feeling renewed and energized, he literally jumps out of bed and heads for the walk-in closet in the ensuite.  He pauses briefly in the door way, taking in the filtered light coming through the windows behind the tub and how the whole room is reflected in red from the tapestry.

Turning to his right, he enters the closet and starts to disrobe.  The carpet is warm under his bare feet and he remembers how he had curled into himself for protection and comfort while his Desire fully awakened.  The overwhelming feelings from last night still linger in the front of his memories but he can now smile and not cower from them.

With only his boxers still in place, he walks to the window at the end other room and looks out over the pond and cherry trees. The lighting has faded but now the rising sun has taken it’s place, coloring the outside world in filtered pinks and oranges.

Omoide smiles and turns back to the wardrobe and chooses his outfit for the day.  Comfortable linen slacks in a deep blue, a crisp white button down long sleeve shirt along with the house sandals in place of the slippers they had all worn when they first arrived.

Once dressed, he checks himself in the full length mirror nestled against the wall between the short hall where the clothes are hung.  He checks his appearance, nodding to himself that he is satisfied with his choices.  When his gaze lands on his face, he laughs out loud.

“How long have I been walking around with this mop of hair on my head?” He starts to run his fingers through his black hair, trying to tame it into one direction or another, or to just lay down flat.

“I need a haircut badly.  Need to make sure Keibiin sets up some time to do that.”  He continues to try and get his hair to behave as he walks back into the ensuite and over to the sink.

Looking over his toiletries, he sees his hair gel.  Picking it up and flipping open the top, squeezing a generous amount into his hand.  Putting down the bottle, he begins to rub his hands together to distribute the product between his hands and then sets to work sculpting his ‘mop’.

After about 15 minutes and several attempted styles later, Omoide sighs and just settles for a combed-back look and rinses his hands.  He dries his hands on the towel next to the sink and makes sure all the toiletries are back neatly in place.