Disclaimer:
Yami no Matsuei is © Matsushita Yohko and all
related organisations. This fanwork is solely for entertainment purposes.
Author's Notes
: The whole Hisoka as ice
cream' concept is pinched without permission from a Japanese fic I read (and loved to
bits). Miko's honour, that's the only thing I copied. You can read the original here. (Ranya-sama, hontou ni
sumimasenyurushite kudasai~~ *shiku*)
Especially for Mei-chan - happy very belated birthday. ^_^; Hope you
like, hon. Flying-tackle-glomps for everything. XD
---------------------
You Say, I Say
----------------------
"He's sick?"
Tatsumi nodded. "He was already feeling groggy last week when
you were on that extended training session with Kachou in the Meifu."
"I see." A slight frown, one thin brow furrowing. The
older man noticed and hid a smile. "Tsuzuki-san comes down with flu rather
easily. Perhaps he was splashing in rain puddles again."
Hisoka blinked. "Again'?"
"It was how he got sick last timeit's never anything
too serious."
The green eyes were clouded even as he snorted. "I suppose so,
but-"
"Kurosaki-kun." It was a gentle rebuke. "Worrying
won't help you concentrate on your work." He started and tried to cover up his
painfully audible embarrassment. "Aa. I'm sorry."
An abrupt change of tone. "But you could do me a favour and
bring these reports to Tsuzuki-san so he can sort through them at home. He'll have
plenty of time - he won't be back for a few days yet."
Jade eyes widened. "Tatsumi-san, he's ill. Isn't this
a littleexcessive?"
"He's not so sick that he can't do paperwork,"
calmly. "You have to learn how to fully utilise all your resources,
Kurosaki-kun."
Sweatdrop. "Hai." The slender boy picked up the stack of
paper and exited the office, shutting the door with a soft click behind him. After a few
moments it opened again to usher in Konoe, wiping his forehead with a giant spotted hanky.
"Ah, Tatsumi. Did you get someone to give Tsuzuki his papers?"
"Yes - along with his favourite ice cream."
Konoe raised a brow. "I thought he liked apple pie best."
"Trust me, he's going to appreciate this ice cream a whole
lot more." A smirk, and the secretary had disappeared into the inner section of the
office with some files.
A resigned huff. "I'll never understand him." The
Shokan Division chief shrugged, and settled down to another day of work.
====
So shinigami got sick too, Hisoka mused as he tidied up his desk and
prepared to leave. Certainly it wasn't impossible. Everyone working in Ju-oh-cho or
even the Meifu was no different from humans in that their bodies could be hurt or even
killed if the conditions were serious enough. The one exception was their ability to
regenerate, to self-heal physical wounds. But he supposed that internal damage inflicted
by microorganisms would be naturally harder to overcome.
It was still a bit of a shock to know Tsuzuki was ill, though. I'm
not worried, he told himself firmly. Tatsumi-san had jumped to conclusions just now.
And Tsuzuki would be fully recovered in a few days, wouldn't he?
Wouldn't he?
All right, he *was* worried. It was no use trying to convince
himself otherwise. What bothered him was that his worry for Tsuzuki stemmed from more than
friendship or natural concern about a colleague. He still wasn't used to it, this
knowledge that the irrepressible purple-eyed shinigami had come to mean more to him than
he should. It wasunsettling.
Hadn't he stopped caring, so long ago? But then it was
impossible *not* to care about Tsuzuki.
I don't know what I think anymore.
Sighing, he grabbed his
case and headed out of the room, suddenly impatient to see his partner again.
====
The sun was already setting when he arrived at Tsuzuki's house,
throwing molten beams of crimson-gold that filtered through surrounding greenery to cast
wavering shadows on the sidewalk. He frowned when he noticed the gate was unlocked, until
he felt a slight tug at his reikan. It was then he realised there was a kekkai surrounding
the house from ground to roof. Hesitantly he put out a hand to touch a barrier of
seemingly solid air, and nodded to himself when the spot he touched glowed green-gold for
an instant before the shield opened to let him through.
Tsuzuki only *acted* stupid sometimes. The kekkai had most likely
been keyed to admit only people- or things -of it's creator's choosing. He
stepped inside, and it shut behind him.
The interior of Tsuzuki's house was in a slightly worse state
of disarray than he remembered, with more clothes randomly scattered and unwashed dishes
piled in the sink than there had been on his last visit. The happy-go-lucky shinigami was
incapable of picking up after himself on a regular basis, obviously much less so now he
was sick.
With a sigh, he rolled up his sleeves and started on a plate that
held the congealed remains of what appeared to be three-day-old applesauce. I swear,
sometimes I have no idea why
====
Hisoka knocked on the door cautiously; heard coughing and a hoarse
Come in!' before he turned the knob. Tsuzuki was sitting up in bed, smoothing
down his rumpled hair and kimono. Eyes slightly glazed with fever-shine brightened as they
lit on him. "Hisoka"
"Are you feeling better already?" he asked awkwardly,
coming to stand at the foot of the bed.
====
Tsuzuki looked at the slim figure simply dressed in a white shirt
and jeans, and smiled faintly. "Much. I'll be back by next week. Thanks for cleaning
up - you shouldn't have."
Emerald eyes shifted their gaze. "Only because you're
sick, otherwise don't even think of asking me to play maid again."
He smothered a laugh at the mental image of Hisoka in a black dress
and frilly apron. "I wouldn't dare. How was your training session?"
A shrug, slender shoulders rising and falling in one fluid movement.
"Fine enough. Kachou seemed quite satisfied with my progress."
"That's good." There was a pause, then he gave his
partner another, tentative smile. "I almost thought you wouldn't
come," Tsuzuki said softly. "Thank you for being worried."
Hisoka jumped, red tinting the paleness of his skin.
"Who's worried?" he said defensively. "I-I only came to give you
paperwork from Tatsumi-san!"
"He _never_ lets up," he whined, pulling a tragic face.
"Not even when I'm _sick_!"
The younger boy snorted, still flushed. "If you're well
enough to whinge, you're well enough for paperwork. You've got the whole weekend
to look through those reports. Oh, and Tatsumi-san also said to enjoy your ice cream. I
hope you watch your diet or you'll get sicker."
Tsuzuki's lips curved up very slightly. "Come here a
minute?" he asked blandly, gesturing to the bedside. Hisoka eyed him suspiciously,
but complied readily enough.
"Naa, Hisoka, where do *you* think my ice cream is?"
He received a disbelieving stare. "If it's not in your
freezer, how the hell should *I* know?"
A contemplative glance from under half-lidded amethyst eyes.
"What if I told you it was standing beside me now?"
Hisoka froze as his brain digested that statement.
"Think about it," Tsuzuki said, carefully observing the
clock on the wall. "Ice cream is cold. But it's also sweet. And it melts once
you get it out of the freezersounds *awfully* like someone we both know,
*nee*?" Out of the corner of his eye he looked at the delicate face that was starting
to register anger, and his heart ached in an odd way.
====
By now his fist was twitching spasmodically.
"O*ma*e" He shut his eyes and tried to take a deep breath, and in that
position he naturally didn't see a large hand reaching out to snag his sleeve. Green
eyes opened; he yelped as he was unceremoniously toppled to the sheets.
"O-*oi*!" he sputtered furiously. "Let go,
idiot!" Of course, he was ignored. Tsuzuki wrapped both arms around him, unheeding of
his struggles.
"I swear, if you *weren't* an invalid I'd blast you
to the ends of the Meifu - let GO!"
"I missed you," a muffled voice said against his hair.
This close, he could feel the fever-heat of Tsuzuki's body through the thin yukata
that hid toned muscles under pale honey skin. Warm air brushed against his ear, and it was
with great effort that he kept himself from trembling. "I'm glad you're
back. If you'd taken any longer I might have gone to find you myself."
Hisoka swallowed the lump that had suddenly invaded his throat.
"Idiot," he said just a trifle unsteadily. "It was only a week - I
wasn't gone _that_ long."
"It was too long." Tsuzuki sat back, dark bangs falling
into his eyes; he had to fight the sudden urge to reach out and push them back. Amethyst
orbs regarded him steadily, some indefinable emotion lurking in their depths.
"Aren't we partners? I don't _like_ being away from you."
====
I don't like being away from the one person who can love me no
matter how much I hurt him.
====
He closed his eyes a second time, trying to regain mental focus.
Tsuzuki's thoughts were crashing into his mind with the force of a tsunami, happiness
mingled with relief and a longing that brought the heat to his face again. How can he?
That was his own wonderment, an incredulity close to pain brought on by the almost
childlike way Tsuzuki had protested. The intensity of his emotions cut like a knife. Why
*does* he?
Yet at the same instant there was a sweet sense of assurance at his
words. Partners. Not just someone you protected and helped, but also someone you
could trust, whom you could lean on. It soothed a sore spot he had nursed ever since they
had first started to work together.
He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.
"Tsuzuki, I -"
"Shh." Long fingers touched his face gently, the caress as
light as the touch of butterfly wings. "Stay the night?" There was a faint hint
of wistfulness in the smile.
It all comes back to him, doesn't it?
"Only because you're sick." Doesn't it.
"Then maybe I should get sick more often."
"Try it," he sniffed. Yes. There was no use denying
it anymore. Not when he'd accepted it this far.
And as he curled up under the sheets beside Tsuzuki, there was,
finally, peace within him. It didn't matter if he couldn't understand it, the
precious something they shared. The important thing was that he always wanted to be at
this person's side. The important thing was that he was home.
"Hisoka?"
"Aa?"
"Suki da."
"Idiot."
He felt two arms enfold him into that familiar embrace; buried his
face in his partner's chest with a sigh. Someday, he vowed silently, relaxing
as he breathed in the scent of musk and violets.
Someday I'll be able to tell you the same
.
-- o wa ri --
