Sakura Summer by katryne
[Summary: So. So. Tired.] [Tsu/Hi]
Warning: frellin' title probably has nothing to do with story. Also, a long character rambling piece, with nary a plot in sight.
Disclaimer: I a-no a-speek-a Engleesh.
Author's notes: Yoko Matsushita is a wonderful, wonderful human being for creating this (I bow at her greatness. And now I'll go and get all depressed), and the JC Animation team are little lords for bringing the characters to anime-form in such a wonderful way. Muraki is still cool, but he still squicks me. Nyahar. Inevitably of course, this is post-Kyoto arc. I've got the manga and anime all mixed up in my head, so I guess that's a warning if the mixed canon ever comes across (along with my own crazy speculating). Gomen in advance.
Spoilers: Well, if you want to be particular, post-Kyoto arc and not really taking into account what the manga went into after (so no Masquerade, GenSouKai etc). Hmmm… I suppose this is veering of into Alternate Reality/Universe territory.
========================
If there was one thing Tsuzuki Asato was good at, it was denial. Combined with his sheer bullheadedness charm, people tend to forget there's more to the shinigami than just sweet things and smiles.
They'd forget, but they'd rather not be reminded in such a way like Kyoto did. And then the reminder hits them hard. And now they mill around the infirmary in a flurry of guilty concern.
Unsurprisingly of course, all Tsuzuki ever see was the concern and the only guilt he felt was his, and his alone.
And people, dead or alive, forget easily.
Maybe Tsuzuki wasn't the only one who was good at denial.
But is it so wrong to hope for things to return as they were?
--------------------
"I'm so glad you're back!!!" Watari flung himself enthusiastically towards the grinning Tsuzuki. Hisoka was as usual, a quiet presence behind the still recuperating man, smiling a little with his eyes and monitoring his partner in his own stoic way.
And Tatsumi was behind Watari, right next to Chief Konoe, a small smile and another unassuming presence guarding Tsuzuki.
"Hai, hai. Tadaima and all that." Tsuzuki returned Watari's hug just as tightly. "Surely the welcoming party has some cake to celebrate my return?" he asked hopefully?
"Bread and butter. To compensate for infirmary costs" Tatsumi said evenly.
"Maa…!" Tsuzuki's eyes were suspiciously over bright.
"Ne, Tsuzuki-san, you know Tatsumi's only joking!" Wakaba chirped behind him. "We have plenty of pastries. Apple pie and other assorted candies, all bought from your favourite haunts!"
Tsuzuki was crying now. "You guys are sooo kind!! Daisuki! Daisuki minna!"
"Yameru, baka," was Hisoka's only contribution to the conversation. He wonders sometimes if Tsuzuki never actually notices that while Tatsumi is sincere in his cost-cutting measures, he was amazingly soft-hearted when it comes to the violet-eyes shinigami. To not notice would be incredibly shallow.
Then again, if you were the sort of person who are adamantly living their life on the surface, perhaps they never notice the deeper feelings lurking in others?
Or maybe they just ignore it altogether? And the only depth they would know is the monsters lurking underneath their own psyches?
Shaking away the disturbing thought, Hisoka joined the welcome back party.
---------------
It has been two weeks, and everything's back to normal.
Mostly.
Watari's still with his quest for the perfect gender-changing potion, Tatsumi was still with his quest to increase productivity and reduce costs without sacrificing eating and sleeping (for the benefit of others), Terazuma was still… Terazuma, Hisoka periodically berates his partner without fail, and Tsuzuki… Tsuzuki still laughs and grins and shamelessly beg for more free time, money and sweetings.
More or less.
There was an air of anticipation within the office, of waiting for the other shoe to fall. A sort of awkward expectation, not wanting to, yet helplessly watching, to see if the last twig will snap and fall away.
Well, that was morbid. But it needed to be said.
Tsuzuki laughs, but if you hear carefully, a certain hollowness rings within it. And the more they hear it, the more anxiously they tried to fill it with all the things that they knew before. Perhaps in vain, because the hollowness rang louder. Maybe the desperation that tinged their efforts doomed their efforts from the beginning.
And Tsuzuki laughed. And the hollow note grew.
-------------------
When I asked you to live for me, this is not what I meant, fool.
Another day in the life of Kurosaki Hisoka was again spent deluged by paperwork. An evil that has somehow has managed to pervade the afterlife as well. He was not yet strong enough for a 'fuda' but surely there are some spells Konoe-kachou can teach him to rid these vile paper… things.
But as Tatsumi might say, a pen is all you need, Kurosaki-kun.
Even Tsuzuki was wisely heeding the advice. He was sitting quietly in his desk, efficiently going through the various forms that everyone thought would be a nice restful break instead of their usual duties. It was fortuitous that it had been a slow season, from the mad/unexplained death angle, that Wakaba and Terazuma was able to cover for them.
Hisoka looked down at his own stack of work, should Tsuzuki notice his frown, which was unlikely, but you never know. Stranger things had happened. Like Tsuzuki sitting quietly in his desk, efficiently going through the various forms…
He should be happy right? He was having the peace and quiet so needed for recuperating shinigami like themselves, Tsuzuki was actually doing work and his emotions weren't playing havoc with Hisoka's emphatic skills.
And if the first two didn't worry him, the last should be enough to send him into a silent frenzy of worrying and speculating.
This wasn't the blankness that he encountered when the demon Sargatanus took over Tsuzuki's body. This was Tsuzuki, that much he could determine with confidence. But there was a careful mutedness to his emotions. As if… as if…
As if he knew people might be worrying and that was the last thing he wanted.
Hisoka's frown was still there, as he thought the matter carefully. Appearance-wise, Tsuzuki has healed well. And he was recovering remarkably. And he was still the lovable cute Shinigami that could never keep a straight knot in his tie even if he tried. And managed to look all kinds of rumpled early in the morning.
And yet, there were the little things. Like the steady loss of appetite. Yes, he would eat whatever treats offered, but the enthusiasm for them is diminishing. Hisoka frowned harder. Tsuzuki's been skipping lunch as well. What about meals that he was never there to witness, like breakfast or dinner?
And that dreaded blankness was back in those purple eyes. At certain times, like when things got too quiet and Tsuzuki was free to roam ever deeper into his mind, and dreamed wide-awake, of whatever horrors that plagued him before. It was getting harder to bring him back, that too Hisoka knew for certain. What he was uncertain and feared for was the time when not even himself and the rest combined would be able to call Tsuzuki back, even if they were kneeling in inch-deep surface of crushed glass.
And there was that one frantic Thursday morning.
Tsuzuki didn't show up. And so close after what happened in Kyoto, it was enough to send everyone into frenzy. Everyone knew that despite their secret hopes, Muraki did not die. And they cannot bear to see if the good doctor would come back to terrorise his beloved target. Muraki must never be allowed to harm Tsuzuki ever again, and if Konoe-kachou had to codify it into an official circular, he would have done so, but there was no need to do that what was so readily done.
They were so ready to scold him when they found him lightly dozing, blanketed by the heavy sakura fall under one of those ubiquitous cherry blossom trees that dot Meifu. So ready, and yet—
"I'm sorry, I don't remember how I got here. I'm so sorry for worrying all of you."
Hisoka still remembered that soft, dazed voice.
It was enough to send a very coddled Tsuzuki back to the infirmary for a very thorough checkup that, Hisoka was not at all surprised to be told, yielded no serious results to be worried over. Except for that unexplained gap in Tsuzuki's memory. All Tsuzuki can say was that he guessed that he went for a walk and got tired and fell asleep. Memory gaps were, apparently, normal in a recovering trauma patient.
But he worried still. They all did. And Tsuzuki went on, quietly finishing his allotted paperwork.
--------------------
A month and a half passed. Tsuzuki didn't try to kill himself again, as far as anyone could tell, the slow spell was over, Terazuma and Wakaba were busy in their own districts, and life (as it was) must go on.
And so, with great reluctance, Konoe-kachou directed them to their next case.
It was a relatively simple case. A suicide. Naturally the spirit was stubborn enough to cling to the living world and refused to let go. Naturally Tsuzuki would try and talk to the spirit to agree to be taken away. And he did, but not before the spirit poured its sadness and misery to the patiently receiving Tsuzuki.
The spirit was finally escorted to where it belonged. Tsuzuki made a habit of falling asleep under sakura trees at night, forgetting every admonition for his health.
----------------------------
Hisoka couldn't stand it anymore. It was the fifth night in a row that he had followed Tsuzuki home, and this was the third night Tsuzuki made a dazed detour towards that one particular spot by the lake nearby his apartment.
Please wake up. Please go home.
Tsuzuki stared blankly at the falling petals.
I should've said more. I made him promise me, and I should've said more. I should've reminded him. I should've.
I should've said I love you.
No, too early. Or is it? Hisoka would rather not think about it as he crept closer to the unguarded Tsuzuki.
He called out his name. No response. He called out louder.
"Hmm? Oh, Hisoka! What are you doing… here?" Tsuzuki looked confusedly at his surroundings.
"I should be asking that."
"'m sorry."
A half-hearted "... baka" Hisoka came closer, surreptitiously checking Tsuzuki's temperature. "Let's get you home."
A sigh of agreement.
------------------
"Ne, Hisoka, would you mind if you don't leave just yet?"
A frown. "Is everything all right?"
"Iyaa, daijoubo yo. It's just… it gets lonely and umm…" the monsters come out and play when no one's around.
Hisoka looked as if he was contemplating Armageddon. He shrugged. "Sure."
Tsuzuki tried to not let his palpable relief show. "Great! I'll just pull up an extra futon and … you're not hungry? I could cook something."
Hisoka shook his head hastily. "No, no thanks. I'm quite full suddenly." Another frown. "What about you, you had dinner?"
Absently he answered, "not hungry," as he bustled around the apartment. One nice thing about the Meifu is that space constraints is something firmly left behind in land-precious Japan. But even then, Tsuzuki couldn't afford a truly spacious accommodation on his salary. "You don't mind sleeping in my room, do you?"
"No, it's fine. Listen, I… I'm feeling a bit peckish. I feel like going out to eat after… afterwards." A lame shrug. "Iku?"
"Sure!" As long as I'm not alone.
-------
Tsuzuki ate a little. Not a lot, not much, only a little.
Not for the first time since they arrived at the little restaurant did Hisoka wish that he had thought to invite Watari or Wakaba or any two of the Goshushins. Maybe both… maybe I could get Saya and Yume to come all the way down from Hokkaido… Anyone, anyone who was a little more voluble than he, anyone who could somehow fill the suffocating silence he found himself trapped in.
He cursed his taciturn self.
"How's the pasta, Tsuzuki?"
"Hmm?" Tsuzuki frowned into his plate, as if only seeing his food for the first time. "Yes, yes. It's nice."
"Would you like anything else?" asked Hisoka, a bit desperately.
"No. No, I don't really have much of an appetite. But this is great, Hisoka," Tsuzuki added hastily. "Very nice. It's been a while since I had Italian."
"Dessert maybe?"
He couldn't possibly imagine that slight look of nausea that quickly passed away. "I'm really… really, not that hungry." Tsuzuki insisted.
Hisoka admitted defeat. But he made sure Tsuzuki finished his pasta.
--------------
The walk back to Tsuzuki's apartment was no less quiet. Not for the first time, Hisoka wished for his partner's fondness for idle chatter. As it was, the careful blankness he was getting from the too-quiet man beside him was unsettling.
There seemed to be nothing that needs addressing, and Hisoka never actually made a point to study Small Talk 101, so when they were at the apartment, each was going about his nightly bedtime rituals silently. He was so uncomfortably aware with the oppressive silence, Hisoka was actually contemplating about beginning a conversation about toothpaste mint. But the sight of a listless Tsuzuki stopped his tongue. He had a feeling the conversational gambit wouldn't really work this time.
But then, it hasn't been working for a while.
He was about to turn in, when Tsuzuki finally spoke, muffled though it was by the blankets. "Hisoka?" Tsuzuki called out hesitantly.
"Hmm?"
"Do you think… no, never mind. Oyasumi, Hisoka."
"Baka. Oyasumi."
Hisoka was half-drowsy with the encroaching sleep, he wasn't even sure he heard the softly spoken question.
"Do you think I'm worth all this trouble?"
------------------------------
Hisoka has worked hard to not dream. The stuff that his subconscious throws at him was more than enough to make for more than some sleepless nights. The first blessed shock of silence, painfully wrought by the iron control he learned from Tatsumi, was something too treasured for him to ever let go. He counts every morning fresh from dreamless sleep a victory.
It wasn't just the hidden four fifths of the iceberg that was his mind that scares him. He had a hard time controlling his empathy awake; asleep, his valuable skills becomes an unwanted wildcard, that absorbs and digests external emotions that, when mixed with his own fears and insecurities, would create nightmares too horrific to bear.
Gradually, he got better at it. Sleeping alone helped, and it disciplined his mind enough to not betray him.
Tsuzuki was dreaming. And if the din from his nightmares wasn't such an overwhelming cacophony of feelings and noise, Hisoka would've been grateful for the return of the Tsuzuki he knew, with his barely leashed emotions—
A soft cry broke the silence. Hisoka hastened towards the anguished sound and hesitated. He's a well-read boy; ask him anything about Norse mythology right now and he would unblinkingly provide the answers with ease. But the scope of his human interactions? He only died and made Shinigami barely a year ago. Barely a year of learning people and getting used to the idea of them and putting faces to the unwanted thoughts in his head. He was still learning the Tsuzuki that was his partner; he was completely at loss with the Tsuzuki with scars on his wrists and in his soul.
He unthinkingly leaned over to wake Tsuzuki and pulled back with a gasp. His usual shield were no match for Tsuzuki's inner demons. Gritting his teeth, Hisoka remembered Tatsumi's lessons and tried again.
"Tsuzuki!"
There was only an answering moan. Hisoka shook him harder. "Tsuzuki!"
A wailed "No!" and Tsuzuki jolted awake, sitting up and breathing in short gasps. "Hi— Hisoka?"
Uncertain of what next, Hisoka merely grunted assent.
"You had a nightmare." Great boyo. State the obvious.
"Oh? I was? I did— did I disturb you?" Tsuzuki looked at him worriedly. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. I didn't— sorry, I'm so sorry Hisoka. I shouldn't have slept in the same room—"
"Baka. If you were across the hallway, it just means I have farther to go to wake you up." And that was definitely the wrong thing to say, judging by the stricken look in the pale face.
Those amethyst eyes looked away. "Umm, you're — you're right of course. How silly I've been…."
Hisoka didn't want to see him like this, didn't want to be the cause of this. He cut in desperately. "Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh, oh yes." Tsuzuki stood up.
"Tsuzuki?"
"I'm — I'm not that tired. I shouldn't be disturbing you. Go to sleep Hisoka, I won't … ummm, I'll just be outside."
And that dreadful blankness is back.
--------------
There was a cup of steaming tea on the coffeetable, untouched and forgotten. He could see Tsuzuki staring blankly past the windows into the black inkiness outside. He wanted to call out his name, but he could see it would be pointless.
He moved closer, eventually sitting next to the still man on the couch. He wanted so badly to touch, but to who such an act would be the bigger surprise; himself or Tsuzuki?
For once in your life, take a risk.
A tentative hand, growing firmer as the seconds go by, on Tsuzuki's shoulder. "Tsuzuki?" he called out softly.
"You shouldn't be up worrying about me, Hisoka," Tsuzuki sighed.
"No, you're doing that enough for both of us," he retorted. All right, not the way to start a meaningful conversation. What is the appropriate words for this? Hisoka looked at the bowed head, and the expression borne out of so many hurts. The guilt, ever-present, always humming underneath everything, constantly threatening to boil over.
He moved closer than he ever dared. He took a deep breath and took a plunge. His arms around the waist of the man who saved him. It was his turn to return the favour. The bitter sense of sorrow enveloping him, but beneath all that, the clean taste of hope.
There were so many things he wanted to say, too many words. He was never good at saying them, and a flood would just overwhelm them both. He clutched at Tsuzuki harder, hoping that it would be enough.
But he knows Tsuzuki, at least the clueless, obtuse man that — yes, you can say it, he can't read your mind — he loves.
"You are not — never a burden, Tsuzuki."
There was an answering sound but he's sure Tsuzuki wasn't totally convinced. He released his hold and turned Tsuzuki's face towards him.
"Never a burden. To anyone. Especially me."
Tsubaki-hime kissed him once, and he probably did love her, in some corner of his soul who was still learning the concept of caring. Probably to prepare him for this moment.
As first kisses go, it wasn't too bad. Quiet and sweet, and the feel of Tsuzuki sighing against his lips made his chest constrict so hard.
"We made a promise. And I'm holding you to it, understand?" he added a little desperately.
Tsuzuki smiled softly. "I love you too, Hisoka."
END
------
a/n: There's probably a sequel. But I don't know. Yet. I know there should be more but damn story's been languishing in my hard drive for so long, it needed to be aired out before it gets too moldy.