Dark Adaptation: Dead Men Working

by Hickok

Dark Adaptation deleted chapter! Tsuzuki and Watari are roped into investigating a disturbance at the Tachiagari Library. But what awaits this pair of veteran Shinigami is like nothing they have ever seen… Set prior to the events of chapter three, DA.

1. Other Side

Dark Adaptation - Dead Men Working.

DISCLAIMER: Descendants of Darkness and all those that wander aimlessly do not belong to me. This may come as a surprise to you but I honestly do not own it. You can check yourself if you don't believe me. You won't find my name anywhere in either the manga or the anime credits, I can assure you!

Note: Just to clear up any misconceptions, this story is actually part of the overall Dark Adaptation series that I have been writing, though I consider it 'deleted footage' of sorts. However, it can stand alone in that you needn't have read Dark Adaptation to know what's going on in this particular storyline.

However, in reference to Dark Adaptation, this particular story takes place prior to Tsuzuki's reuniting with Muraki in chapter three. (To be specific, in chapter three, the time frame is early morning. The events of this story occur during the evening of the previous day, before Tsuzuki goes out on the town and gets off his face.) Back when I first started writing Dark Adaptation, I had a vague idea for chapter three that was actually this story but I went with an abbreviated version which would hurry along Tsuzuki meeting up with Muraki again. As of late, I decided that I would actually write these 'deleted chapters' and present them separate from the Dark Adaptation fic as a stand alone story. (Owing to its' size of course.) Readers should however think of this as an extension of chapter three of Dark Adaptation, as it delves into the Origins of the demon Mitkiel and his first 'appearance' to our Shinigami main characters!

Dead Men Working is divided into seven parts. Part seven is the actual content of the original chapter three of Dark Adaptation, though it has been re-written along with the earlier chapters of DA. The reason I haven't updated as much recently, is because I have been re-writing DA, to make it more up to date, add more scenes and the like. If you want to know what has been added, I make note of it in my profile page. So far, only chapters one, two and three of DA have been replaced by the re-written versions, though chapter four will shortly follow!

I kind of think of this as an introductory chapter, which will fill people in who don't know much about Yami no Matsuei or its' characters.

I have added three new character's, all of whom appear in this revised chapter. The first is the Ministry psychiatrist, the second is Watari's assistant and the third is… well, it's really only a glimpse. You'll meet him in chapter 31, when I get round to posting that!

Phew, do you think I covered everything?

Saki: Hard to say... (Checks clipboard) Did you mention that in DA you're going to replace the chapter with part seven that appears as part of this fic?

Hickok: Ah... no. Thanks for reminding me. Anyway, as he said readers.

Watari: Geez, what a long story... and it's so revolting!

Hickok: Not this first part! This is quite boring really. It's only Tsuzuki having his brain examined!

Tsuzuki: Poor me... Why is this even necessary, Hickok? I don't want the readers to view me as mental!

Hickok: Can't change what you are, dearie. And as for this story, I wanted to show the 'calm before the storm', so to speak. Explain the background and history of the Ministry and it's characters and show what they do in their line of work. And be honest mate; you really needed to see a psychiatrist after what happened in Kyoto.

Tsuzuki: (Sobs) Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it!

Muraki: How about some warnings for the later chapters then, Hickok?

Hickok: Cheers Muraki. (Adopts formal stance and puts on official voice) Warning; later parts of this fanfic involve scenes and images that may be considered violent or cruel.

Oriya: 'May' be considered? Come on, don't kid yourself around.

Hickok: (Sighs) Very well, be pedantic if you must. (Assumes stance and voice again) Later additions to this story include images that are violent, disturbing, gory and cruel to the extreme. If you get off on that, please ignore my warning and plow on through. I will give this warning again at the start of the actual chapter itself but I feel it's only fair to get the message out there early. This chapter is not so scary. Not unless you find exposition, backstories, wankst and internalizations frightening.

Hisoka: Most people do, Hickok. That's why they avoid stories like this and read only those that involve their favorite pairings.

Watari: Yep. The dirty, filthy porn.

Hickok: There's nothing wrong with that! I don't condemn them for how they get their jollies, so they won't condemn me for loving blood and guts and gore. With hot guys rolled in it... (Drools)

Tsuzuki: Okay, that's gross. I'm leaving. (Runs away)

Hickok: Now my lovely readers! This new (hopefully improved version) includes; Tsuzuki's visit to the ministry psychiatrist, heart to heart with Watari, massacre at the library and dinner with Hisoka. Up first, it's been a year since the events of Kyoto. How is everyone fairing at the Ministry of Hades? Shall we check up on them?

Hisoka: No.

I wasn't asking you! Anyway, hope you all enjoy it! XD

~ X ~

Do I really want to know myself
Do I want to see
Why I'm wonderin' every morning, who's it gonna be today
Staring in the mirror, come tell me, who's that under my skin
And what's the reason we're here for

Tell me what is my own true face
Tell me what is my own true face

But hey here I come
I'm the show's main attraction
I'm a beautiful creature
That's what I am, yeah that's what I am

But the other side of me
I can't explain why I've become
Negative as can be
I'm wonderin' where it's coming from
I know I can't do without it, sure makes me what I am
So I will never stop believin'

In that I love myself someday
In that I love myself someday

But hey here I come
I'm the show's main attraction
I'm a beautiful creature
Yeah that's what I am, Hey that's what I am

Anouk – "The Other Side Of Me"

~ X ~

The Other Side

Tsuzuki

So that was the reason why you called me so early... I didn't think that anyone in their right mind had any business ringing a person in the early hours of the morning.

Though I suppose that sort of makes sense, when you think about it.

My part in this sordid tale begins both spectacularly and simplistically. Suppose we were to find ourselves in a more civilized setting, the four of us. Say that we partook of tea as we gazed out upon a serene landscape, beguiled by the sounds of the surrounding world, passing by us, as we instead remain cosseted in our reposed solitude. Imagine then, that I would say to you that this night, when everything ended for so many innocent people, was in fact the most perfect evening of which I had ever recounted and also by that vein, the very worst. I am certain you would be most confused by such words. 'Is it one or the other?' You must surely wonder. And I do admit that it hasn't quite yet begun to make sense to me either.

It all started with this incident. Three months that were to become a nightmare for all…

I'm sure that one day, people will forget and move on with their lives. But I will never forget it. It was pure terror… but… it was also the time in which my life was forever changed.

My life… huh… it's such a common phrase and yet for someone like myself to use it, it takes on a kind of painful irony.

I look back upon those days now, as some men must surely look back upon the entirety of their lives. I confess most humbly that I already am such a man but these past few weeks have aged us all, to the point where it seems impossible to imagine that anyone who has born witness to these times is young anymore. I feel as sea bream must, when the fisherman has slid the hook from its' gums. How often in life do we fail to understand that when the barb is pulled from our flesh a throbbing welt remains that may never satisfactorily heal? And even then you cannot help but wonder if you should find yourself splayed across the chopping board, awaiting the ascending blade that determines you demise, or if it is towards the welcoming water that you fall, where, bearing the scars of the old existence, life begins again.

Seventy years ago, I certainly could not have imagined my life having turned out like this. This existence of mine I've so often compared to a sweet perfume, dabbed upon the wrist of a long dead woman. For what end shall it ultimately serve?

And yet despite this unanswerable futility I had been granted life anew.

I am Asato Tsuzuki. Shinigami. A dead man walking. We might die today. For any one of us, there may perhaps be no return. And so, I would like for you to know me, the me I have never spoken to anyone of. I'm sorry if this is selfish but here and now, at the end and beginning of all things, there is, I feel, no better time then to tell you all the absolute, undeniable truth about me. I hope I can be forgiven for that.

XxXxXxXxXx

Nearly a year had passed now since the tragic loss of life during the incident in Kyoto. I'd since returned from the Shikigami world and reassumed my post as head of the Kyushu district. Weeks rolled by with only the standard soul retrieval missions on our agenda. In twelve months, we saw neither hide nor hair of Kazutaka Muraki, though the scars he had left upon Hisoka's flesh and my soul remained as grisly testament of his continued existence. It was, it seemed, only a matter of time until his re-emergence. And oh, how that time crawled.

Our workload was dwindling… the occurrence of unnatural deaths decreasing by the day. Most often, we'd sit about, twiddling our thumbs and catching up on case notes. When business was down for us, it was usually a good sign that things in the Waking world were doing okay.

The end of my struggle was in sight. Until one chilly, late summer evening…

~ X ~

The date was June 12, 2006. It was five o'clock on a Tuesday night, which was knock-off time. However, I had an obligation in the Northern section of the Ministry building at five-fifteen. Having bid farewell to my co-workers and reconfirming my dinner plans with my division partner Hisoka Kurosaki, I had only a moment to file away the paperwork I'd been in the midst of completing before heading out of the Summons Section.

It was a day of deep nostalgia… of familiar memories. A day when I felt compelled to take in each and every thing around me and absorb it, as though experiencing it all for the very first time. Looking back now, I can say with confidence that it was an untried sense of anticipation that assailed me that afternoon. The past year had been so blithesomely peaceful but to me it felt all too much like standing upon a plank of wood with a deep crack running through the center of it. Being aware of the damage already done to the foundations upon which your life rested, you could never entirely relax, when too much pressure could cause the entire board to break in two.

My mind had been irreversibly damaged by what had occurred in Kyoto. Even now an entire year later, the terrible images continued to haunt me. Day by day, I slowly, gradually improved but still that uncertainty dominated the way in which I lived my life. I'd become increasingly timid, fearful of taking chances or becoming attached to those individuals I met through my line of work. With the help of my chief and work colleagues, I was taking steps in an attempt to improve my anxiety but I wasn't yet sure if it was enough. That great anticipation… I felt if Muraki were to reappear, the board beneath my feet would be completely obliterated and ever downward I would plunge.

I grabbed my coat out of the staff locker room, slinging both it and my jacket over my arm, as it wasn't yet cold enough to put them on. I found my eyes drawn towards a glass display case on the wall to the left of the line of lockers, displaying a Ministry mass produced guide titled, 'Know your Demons.' Demon, is the slang colloquial term for 'Underdwellers', the name given to those paranormal creatures residing in the dark mirror realm most commonly referred to as Hell. (Demonic entities find this manner of reference to have negative connotations however and as such prefer the alternative title of Underdwelling). Having never been there (and not planning to, if I could avoid it) I can only tell you what I myself have been told. It is referred to as the Underdwelling because of the oppressive dark atmosphere. Popular theology references the location of 'Hell' as being beneath the earth, which is of course physically impossible but it does apparently have the feeling of being submerged beneath the ground, with little light and a dank humidity in the air. Within the Underdwelling there exists in symbiosis, the Tartarus realm, where the wrongdoing souls of humanity are placed into one of the Seven levels coordinating to the offences committed whilst they were alive. If successful in working off their debt in one of these levels, they earn a chance at reincarnation and as such, a means through which to live their lives accordingly.

Underdwellers are the creatures that dwell in this realm. Most are harmless and exist without any sort of open communication between themselves and the Waking World. But problems did unfortunately occur, and on quite a disconcerting basis at that. It was unavoidable when you think about it. Owing to the overall oppressive sense of the Underdwelling, sometimes these 'citizens' evolved something of 'cabin fever' and became immeasurably volatile. These were 'demons'. If one of these nasties breaks into the Waking World, they can cause catastrophic damage due to their superior physical and magical abilities. That's where we Shinigami come in.

Next to the field guide, a number of articles about the Summons Section and Underdwellers had been laminated proudly, just to remind us of what an important job we were all doing. The Ministry annually produced an agency specific newspaper, detailing various staff achievements, upcoming work related events, articles of particular interest taken from earth newspapers and the like. It is such a large organization you understand, that often it is considered quite impossible to keep in touch with everything that is going on. This newspaper was sponsored as a means to improve staff communication.

Some of the earth articles passed more as comic strips for us, for we had a first hand understanding and account of what exactly was being dealt with in that particular circumstance. For example, one article bore the blazing headline, "HOUSE REDUCED TO RUINS FOLLOWING UNSCHEDULED DEMOLITION!" Well, it was certainly unscheduled, no lie there. The true story was that the abandoned building had been attracting a large number of Scavenger beasties from the Underdwelling and they had taken to feasting on the homeless people that were squatting there. Kannuki Wakaba and her partner Hajime Terazuma had totaled the house in their attempts to subdue the monsters in what came to be known as one of the Ministry's most famous comedy of errors mission. Having not been there, I couldn't tell you exactly what happened but I believe it was started by one of the Shinigami tripping down the stairs in an attempt to avoid an attack and sending a blast of mana (magical energy) through the roof, causing a chunk of tiling to fall into a support beam, which in turn brought the right hand side of the building down... And the rest is very amusing history, of which the aforementioned agents are regularly reminded of at staff parties.

Another article detailed animal transfiguration, the desecration of the Catholic churches within the Tokyo Bay area and a corpse that had been delivered to the hospital morgue, only to disappear a dozen times throughout the night and routinely returned, having been found in a different location every time. (ID tag still firmly knotted about his big toe). This had in fact been one of my cases and the truth was that the soul of the deceased person hadn't entirely left the body. He was an elderly fellow and all he wanted to do was get back to the bar in which he had been drinking during his heart attack and finish his beer but his sense of direction was in fact even more terrible now that he was deceased. It certainly gave the human authorities something to stew over, never mind the trouble I'd had convincing the silly old sod that he was in fact dead and not having an alcohol induced hallucination. For the love of God, the guy had been twiddling his ear lobe and the entire thing had come off in his hand and it still took ten more minutes for him to even consider the possibility that he was deceased! As you can imagine, this became something of a running comic in the Ministry paper; a caricature of me, trying to convince a very decrepit zombie (which had been munching on his own leg, which was quite the exaggeration) that it was time for him to turn up his toes.

Human beings don't know that paranormal entities really exist. (Not theoretically anyway. I'm sure one or two suspected but most of those had been locked up). It's tough keeping it all inside, but the Ministry is the Ministry… and rules are rules.

I grabbed up my personal belongings as I glanced over the tabloid articles, smiling to myself as I read over a few particularly humorous ones before locking up and making my way out into the main office area, switching off the lights as I went. The Summons Section was composed of a number of individual offices, so we weren't exactly pinched for space but the central area certainly gave that impression sometimes. Strictly speaking, it was well organized and stocked for general-purpose usage. We habitually gathered there on a Tuesday morning for the staff meeting of the entire Judgment Bureau area. The Summons Section staff held a very informal meeting on a Wednesday morning in our break area over breakfast, to which we all contributed something. I think I enjoyed these times most because if we at least pretended to be discussing relevant issues, those of us that were present could spend the morning chatting away and enjoying each others company. It certainly took the edge off of an unusually serious and stressful job.

I switched off all the lights in the main area, making sure the computer terminals had all been turned off as I headed towards the door. A plaque was mounted in a decorative frame to one side of the doorway, proudly detailing the founding principals of the department and its' employees. I couldn't actually remember the last time I'd bothered to read it, (or if I had at all,) so I stopped for a moment to refresh myself. As I said, I felt especially nostalgic that night and certain things I wouldn't normally have paid credence to become unaccountably important. Plus, I had a bit of time to kill.

"Summons Section"

"Guiding the lost souls that wander the mortal world and dealing with unnatural disturbances that threaten to disrupt the natural commune."

This was the department to which I had long ago been assigned. The Summons Department began as a team of agents gathered from within the Ministry of Hades, the Government responsible for dealing with the transition of departed souls. Ruled by the mysterious Lord Enma, it's the Ministries job to both wrangle in the dysfunctional dead and then to bring them to the Hades court, to receive judgment for their life's deeds. Other agents are then responsible for seeing them to either the Celestial Land (Colloquial term: Heaven) or the Underdwelling, where they will work towards repaying their debt, in the hopes of receiving another chance of life.

The Summons sections mission is to keep things running smoothly. Our charge is to retrieve any lost souls still wandering the mortal world. We also deal directly with those disturbances that might have caused the natural flow of the souls to become disrupted; such as demonic intervention or the ignorant (or not so ignorant) dalliances of humans. Each department of the Ministry sends investigation requests to the office, which are then examined before being forwarded on to the Summons Section. Special retrieval agents of the Summons Department are also known as Shinigami – Guardians of Death. In the Western based Ministries such as England and the United States of America, these agents were more popularly referred to as 'Reaper's' though our jobs are entirely the same. Every country in the world has an affiliated Ministry of Hades, which handles their own location bound errant dead. It is only very rarely that we have any contact with them; such is the strict cultural differences that determine how we go about our business. We Japanese, for example, often favor reincarnation as a choice move for uncertain souls, whereas the English prefer the dead to pass on directly. We find that the less communication between the corresponding undead governments, the less we concern ourselves with politics and the more we focus on our work.

There are 10 overall jurisdictions within the Summons Department; to which paired agents are assigned. At the time, I was in charge of Sector Two, Shokocho, which included Kyushu but not Okinawa. Most of the Shinigami prefer to remain at the central office, the Ministry proper but some situate themselves within the region they are assigned; within the field office located there. Chidsuru, the supervisor of Okinawa, for example remained stationed at Shinkocho – Area One. I, on the other hand and many other agents aside, preferred to stay central. It was more social, I found and meant I could take easy advantage of Ministry Housing, which was mostly covered in the Taisencho region.

The government of the Waking World (in so saying, the world of the living) have yet to publicly announce the existence of the Intermediate Realm (Hades) and all manner of nasties that come along with it. So Ministry Members are authorized instead to pass themselves off as either members of the Japanese police special-forces unit or private detectives. It's easier to explain that way.

The Summons Section was officially founded in 1910; two years before I was born. Total employees: 18. Our Chief of staff, Rokuro Konoe is the only member of the Summons department that has been here longer than myself, though I couldn't say for certainty just how old he is. In respect to his personality, Konoe is both a kind and supportive man, who keeps us well in our place but not so much that we would hate him for it. We, all of us, tended to look upon him as a fatherly figure and so most of the dirty administrative work fell to the Secretary, Seiichirou Tatsumi. He had been my third partner, many years ago and whilst I still look to him as a dear friend, Tatsumi is a stern disciplinarian who prefers for things to be done by the book. As such, he often clashed with Watari's more outgoing, play-it-by-ear, happy-go-lucky disposition. Watari, as well as being the Shinigami in charge of Area 6, was the division medic and one of the two member scientific analysis personnel and current firearms specialist.

The location of the Ministry is Tokyo. The Waking World and the Intermediate World are mirror images of each other. The buildings and the scenery are pretty much the same. The Ministry is, in fact, the mirror image of Parliament building. The Underdwelling and Celestial Realm are also mirror realms, existing in symbiosis with both Hades and the Waking World. If it's easier to think of them as being other dimensions then by all means do, because in essence, that is precisely what they are.

When lost souls or demonic entities (known officially as Underdwellers) are sighted, it's our job to go get 'em. When it comes to demons, it's like exterminating diseased rats, with a higher exterminator death rate. Shinigami turn over due to stress, injury and personal reasons is amongst the highest within the Ministry, due to the difficult nature of our jobs. The money also, as you imagine is not a terribly compelling reason to stay. For the most part, what we lack in remuneration we make up for with prestige. These are the founding principles of the Summons Section.

As well as the plaque, there were some photos on the left hand wall from a shooting competition we had some time back. Often there is a great deal of inter-department rivalry within the Ministry of Hades and so far the Summons Section has been undefeated. On the seventh day of each New Year the Ministry holds an Archery competition, in which each department enters a team of three to compete. In magic, spiritual strength is the most important factor. The greater ones' spiritual strength, the greater ones ability to use magic and spells, so these competitions were introduced to encourage the development of all spiritual abilities. As an afterthought, it was then proposed that if such emphasis was to be placed on martial art forms such as archery, why then couldn't this apply to the mechanical use of weapons such as firearms? The founding notion behind this was both to encourage and remind employees of the Ministry that they weren't to depend too greatly on their spiritual abilities, lest they find themselves devoid of them one day. In response to this, a number of months ago, the use of firearms and other handheld weapons was collaborated into a secondary competition to take place in the month of May and had been considered a great success. With my mana abilities being so high, I'd never needed to learn how to use a gun (and when I had tried my aim was terrible) but quite a few Shinigami were more than skilled in that particular area, as demonstrated by the photographs before me.

1st Place: Hajime Terazuma. He's a Shinigami too, the partner of Kannuki Wakaba who was the Head of Area 4; Chuugoku. In life he had been a policeman, as well as an elite martial artist, so I suppose it was only expected that his skills in gunplay would be high as well. Usually he's pretty quiet, reserved. But put him and I together and he goes wild.

We don't get along. For some reason, we rub one another up the wrong way. We even managed to destroy the Ministry library during one of our fights, so we usually do our best to stay far away from one another; an arrangement that suits our fellow employees also.

2nd Place: Hisoka Kurosaki. No surprises there. Hisoka had been my division partner for the last three years, which places him overall first in the 'putting up with me' category. Having been born into a very traditional old family that placed great emphasis upon martial arts training, Hisoka was greatly skilled in a number of areas that required both exceptional mental fortitude and exemplary hand to eye coordination. He'd been an expected shoe in during the archery competition and if you had ever seen his skill with a gun, then you wouldn't have batted an eye upon observing his efforts during the 'May-day' tournament. Oh no. The big surprise was who had pulled bronze.

3rd Place: Yutaka Watari. I don't think anyone was more surprised then Watari himself. Don't get me wrong; Watari is a brilliant techie and a kind, compassionate friend but when push came to shove he was as clumsy as one-legged duck out of water. Being a mad inventor, he actually designed a number of weapons for use by the Summons Department in the May-Day comp, mostly firearms. But none of us ever actually had a clue he knew how to use them! None of us even knew what Watari was doing and thought maybe he'd been going along with it for a laugh. Well, I can't say he ever took it seriously but he'd sure driven the ball to the deep end, hitting each target with each of the requisite firearms, showing excellent precision.

This wasn't to say his skills were consistent when it came to the field. In that arena, Hisoka was certainly superior. With his history in martial arts training, he knew how to martial his nerves and stay calm, keeping his arm steady. Watari often became so flustered if something was coming at him, he'd be just as likely to blow a hole through his own foot, as he was to actually hit the enemy.

Glancing once more over the competition photos, I left the Summons Section, turning off the hall lights before ducking into the toilet. I offered my reflection a passing look as I washed my hands, having never been particularly fond of mirrors. I can't say for sure why, unless it has something to do with how uncomfortable it made me to see my unusual eyes staring back at me. I knew it wasn't quite healthy to have such habits in place, so I made a point of looking directly into the glass surface and taking myself in.

"Here's looking at you, kid." I said, mulling my reflection over. It was strange to think how old I actually was beneath that youthful flesh and not just regarding the stasis of my body. I appeared to be a young man in my early twenties, when I had in fact been twenty-six when I'd passed away. It was kind of nice, I supposed but there was a reason behind it. It was what the Underdweller cells desired. Having evidence that I was not entirely human meant at the least I could understand why I had not aged during the final years of my life. A young host was advantageous; to live longer meant there was a greater life expectancy for my onboard guests. A number of highbred, upper ranking demons were known to have lived for millennia at a time. This wasn't something I ever imagined for myself. One normal, happy life was all I'd ever desired and something I continue to long for, laughable as it might sound.

My appearance wasn't unusual, if you were to exclude my vividly purple eyes. I'm told that I'm attractive but I truly do not feel that I'm any more compelling than anyone else I had ever met. My hair, always unkempt was deep black and highlighted with streaks of dark brown that I'd thrown in myself to keep my face from seeming too washed out. It was a little longer at the back, with symmetrical strands framing my cheeks and forehead, which had been the fashion for men in the early 1900's and something I still preferred to more contemporary styles. I had the customary tanned skin of the Japanese, high cheekbones, delicate, wholly un-masculine features and a firm, yet definitively feminine jaw. And I was tall, a few inches short of six feet, with long legs and a strong line from my waist to my back.

I'd always been a fairly lighthearted person but my moods were prone to fluctuate. I found it hard to climb out of these funks once I'd gotten into them. I had a history of clinical depression and self-harming tendencies and these were things that were not taken lightly, especially within a governmental job.

Which brings me at last to the reason why I had been staying back that evening.

Having finally arrived in the North Wing of the building, I was ushered into the office and immediately seated. Once coffee and pleasantries were out of the way, it was straight down to business.

"What do you see?" I was presented with a picture frame, containing the image of an inkblot. As I later came to understand, these cards and my interpretation of them were known as the Holtzman Inkblot (1) test and were commonly used with clients suffering from depression, head trauma and schizophrenia. The idea behind it is that the mind sees what it so chooses to see. It says a lot about someone's mental, emotional and psychological well being if we ask them to examine obscure images that could quite frankly be anything. Depending on what you saw, well…

At the time I did not quite see the point to it all but now I can only laugh at the sick perverse irony of knowing how our internalizations can cause so much damage. That which we can perceive can destroy us.

I examined the inkblot, rather bored by it all. "It's two little boys hitting each other with sticks."

"All right…" The card was withdrawn, so that Dr. Squirrel could make a note of my comment. Of course his real name wasn't Dr. Squirrel. It was Sanetoki Kaoin and as you've probably guessed by now, he's the Ministry psychiatrist and perhaps the most busy and highly paid member of staff. I'd been referred to him for weekly sessions following my mental collapse in Kyoto, though this certainly had not been the start of our acquaintanceship. I'd been coming to see Dr. Squirrel on and off from the moment I'd first become a Guardian of Death, sometimes voluntarily (because he was always happy to listen) other times on order from my superiors. His disposition was really as kindly and sweet as you could imagine and he was so down to earth that you couldn't help but like him; even if you didn't like having to be there. He always tried to make sessions comfortable, by catering to whomever he was expecting. With me, he would always set out a variety of sweets so that I could nibble on them throughout the session. He always took the issues of the client seriously but never himself, which was what kept him grounded, level and wholly approachable. This made him easy to talk to, which I truly appreciated, having been committed to seeing him for the better half of a year.

He was a tall, somewhat untidy gentleman who had passed away in his early forties and almost always seemed to have a cigarette stub between his lips when I happened to catch him on one of his very few breaks. His hair was a dull gray-brown, what you would call a 'salt and pepper' shade I would suppose and his clothes always seemed to coordinate with this; being of earthy tone and understated. Often it was a very casual turtle neck sweater and plain pants with perhaps a coat thrown over top if it was cold but always left unbuttoned. He wore an expensive brand of glasses (no doubt the most pricey article of his entire ensemble) and sometimes when I looked at him I imagined he was something of a grizzly older version of Muraki and then immediately berated myself for having such thoughts. Dr. Kaoin's demeanor was so far removed from Muraki; why it was like comparing the Dalai Llama to Hitler!

You would think that being so well liked and respected by the Ministry staff, that more people would actually know Dr. Kaoin's real name. We all however, simply referred to him as 'Dr. Squirrel', a nickname that had so long been in place I can't imagine who had even come up with it. I do understand the meaning behind it; as the department shrink, Ministry employees were sent to see him whenever they 'got squirrelly'. And his initials being SK, if arranged so that his given name was placed first, it sort of slurred together to produce the first sound in the English word 'squirrel', which was how we referred to him.

Not that the doctor minded. In fact, I would hardly have been surprised if it had been him that had kicked off that nickname. I mean, we were even allowed to refer to him as such in session, which you imagine would have been an entirely professional setting.

And he wasn't even the least bit like a squirrel! His movements were always so slow and thoughtful. Usually, the only part of him that would move was his foot, which would bob up and down in the air as he listened intently, his large doe like eyes always making perfect, meaningful contact, as though nothing else mattered so much to him as to sit there and listen to you speak.

As fond as my feelings towards him were, on that particular day I was hardly in the best of moods and all I really wanted to do was go home and start getting things ready for my dinner with Hisoka.

"Forgive me, Doctor but I can hardly see why any of this is relevant." I confessed, watching as he rounded off whatever he had been writing before sliding the pencil behind his ear.

"I can understand why you might feel that way but believe it or not, this is helpful to me. Now," At this, Dr. Squirrel held up another card for my inspection. "Last one." He said, with a supportive smile. "What do you see?"

I took a moment to mull this one over. "… It's a flower. A rose."

Dr. Squirrel seemed pleased at this because the corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he jotted this down. "Okay."

I went back to examining the card and upon closer inspection, found that my feelings on what was presented to me had changed. "It's an unusually drippy rose… it looks like it's melting in a fire. Oh! No!" I exclaimed, pointing at it with urgency. "It's bleeding! It's a bloody rose!"

Whatever positive reinforcement Dr. Squirrel had salvaged from my previous answer, had all but been annihilated by my second hand account. His eyes drifted up to take me in, with an expression that seemed to suggest I was not doing myself any favors with such an interpretation of the subject matter and I had to smile as he very deliberately struck out what he had just written.

"Can I go now?"

Dr. Squirrel placed the inkblot cards away and folded his hands, placing them not at all gently down on his writing pad. "I still think we have some work to do, Tsuzuki-san."

I groaned like an impatient child, sinking my head back against the armchair upon which I was sitting. "I just don't see why I have to go through this again!"

"Standard procedure for a Shinigami agent following severe trauma." Dr. Squirrel explained, offering me a smile that said he was sorry for the inconvenience on my part. "A regular evaluation of your current mental and emotional state is compulsory to ensure that you're still fit to undertake fieldwork duties."

I knew all of this already and being reminded of it didn't change my feelings one iota. "Trust me, I am the best judge of my emotional and mental state. I'm fine. Have been for the last six months. I seem well to you now, don't I?" This came as more of an urgent plea for approval, for there was tenor of diffidence discernible in my voice.

Dr. Squirrel inclined his head thoughtfully. "Well, there's no doubt that you have shown improvement. But that's not only what the Ministry is looking for I'm afraid." He gave me a kindly look. "I know these sessions can't be any fun, Tsuzuki-san but let's both do our best to get through them. Consider it a favor to me. Once we're done, I can grant you a clean bill of health and then you'll hopefully never have to set eyes on me again."

He could be manipulative when he wanted. Having played on my kindness, he understood I would stick this out just as a means to help him. "We've gone down that particular road a few times, doc. Never seems to make no matter mind. Sides..." I smiled at him. "… you ain't all that bad."

He chuckled in that soft, unobtrusive manner of his but I could see that he had sincerely appreciated my comment. Sometimes it's a little hard to know when someone in his position genuinely enjoys something you have said, or if they're just humoring you. "Glad to hear it, my boy. Tell me, how are things going with your partner?" And thus commenced the 'catch-up' portion of our meeting. "Are you getting along better now? That was of some concern to you in your previous sessions, if I correctly recall."

I had briefly met with Dr. Squirrel during the outset of my partnership with Hisoka. I hadn't been attending to talk specifically about Hisoka but it had been something of a stressor at the time; in that I wasn't sure if we were compatible with one another and whether our work might suffer as a result. "Everything's fine now." I assured, waving my hand about leisurely. "Hisoka and I… well, we're two different people, so our personalities clash sometimes but… I know he cares about me. He's just not very particular about showing it most of the time."

It seemed to please Dr. Squirrel to hear this and he made a brief notation on his writing pad.

"Wonderful. Most wonderful. I'm glad to hear things are improving in that department. It certainly makes your life at work a lot less stressful I imagine."

I nodded. "Yeah… Hisoka's been great. He's kept me on the tracks when I've felt as though I might have derailed more than once. I owe him a lot."

"Yes, he certainly is a kindly and resilient young man." Dr. Squirrel mused and I could only suppose he had met with Hisoka casually, because he would not have spoken of him if it had been in a clientele situation. "And besides Hisoka, who would you say are the people in your life that play an important role at the moment?"

I creased my brows, feeling some sense of irritation seep in. "Come on, doc. I've told you about my friends before."

"As I said before, humor me. Remember I'm an old man, Tsuzuki-san." He tapped the side of his head with the notepad, smiling all the while. "My memory is not as good as it perhaps once was."

"Well if you say so…" I understand now that what Dr. Squirrel was actually looking for, was an insight into whom I structured my life around and how they might have supported me. He wanted to see what was working for me and build on this if possible. Though I hadn't at first seen it, it really was a very clever question. "Well… the people I work with here in the Ministry are all important to me. There's Hisoka of course… um, Tatsumi… Chief Konoe, Wakaba, Saya, Yuma… oh and Watari."

Dr. Squirrel paused for a moment and his mouth formed a straightened line, which he usually did when something important came to mind. He shifted a little, before gesturing towards me with his extremely chewed upon pencil. "Now, this is very interesting to me, Tsuzuki-san. Because the last time I saw you in here some years ago, 'Oh-and-Watari' was the first person you named. Why do you suppose you thought of him last in this instance?"

This was also very interesting to me because I hadn't even considered as to why I had thought of Watari last. We had always gotten along well, better in fact than I did with any other member of staff. It might have been that I simply took it for granted and so it required greater effort to think of everyone else. "I… I don't know, really." I confessed, still confused as Hell by my own thoughts. "I guess probably because we haven't been seeing much of each other lately." This seemed logical enough to me. "Hisoka I see everyday 'cause he's my partner and all and Tatsumi's always with the Chief to issue directives, so I guess I see him around a bit too…"

Dr. Squirrel nodded, now scratching the back of his head with the pencil. Sometimes he was so categorically informal it was comical. "And Wakaba, Saya and Yuma? You see them quite frequently also?"

This caused me to shift uncomfortably, as it was not the case at all. "Not really… Wakaba is a different division and Saya and Yuma often get snowed in up at the Hokkaido office."

"Hmm… I see." The doc pondered this for a moment, his thoughts so distracted he actually twiddled the pencil eraser about in his ear before realizing that this was neither the time nor place to be excavating for wax and popped it out in such a way that it actually produced a sound. "How are things between yourself and Watari-san?"

I was still attempting to stifle my laughter from what had just occurred and almost missed his question. "Oh, how have things been? … Good." I said, nodding reassuringly. "Good, good. We're always good." I felt uncomfortable again and shuffled about, re-crossing my legs as a means to alleviate my sudden agitation. "But…"

"Yes?" Dr. Squirrel prompted

I tried to best summarize my feelings, though I wasn't as of yet entirely sure of them myself. "I kinda feel like there's something that's been left unsaid, you know?" I nodded, more to myself. This did seem to be the most accurate way to describe it. "Like there's something on his mind that he wants to voice out loud but doesn't."

"Why don't you ask him?" Dr. Squirrel asked, looking at me sidelong in his ever gentle, non-provocative manner. He could ask you to take off your trousers and put them on the teakettle in that exact same tone of voice and before you knew it the kettle would be sporting a nice new pair of togs!

"Watari doesn't talk about himself much. And he gets sort of embarrassed if anyone worries about him… but… I think I will have a chat with him." I glanced up, hoping to meet with the doc's approval and felt a swelling in my chest when I caught the hint of a favorable smile grace his smooth features. "I'd hate to think we were drifting apart."

"No. Because the two of you are very good friends, aren't you?"

"The best of friends. Watari has always been kind to me." I said, nodding thoughtfully as I took another sip from my coffee. "Maybe it's time I returned the favor; that what you're getting at, doc?"

Dr. Squirrel pretended to be serious with me. "You know I'm not here to tell you what to do, Tsuzuki-san. I'm just here to make you feel guilty about the things you feel you ought to be doing." He smiled somewhat playfully as he jotted down another note, cheek resting on the fist of his free hand. "Now, coming back to our association task. … I'm going to be straight with you. I'm a little confused."

"You sure as Hell ain't the only one." I confessed, with a small, not at all veiled roll of my eyes.

"In the task you identified in this order," Here Dr. Squirrel referred to his notes. "… a wine glass, a, quote-unquote, 'freaky china doll face', the moon, a syringe – possibly a knife, a building with a steeple, kids thrashing each other with sticks and a –" He squinted, having apparent difficulty with reading even his own writing. "-melting bloody rose." He folded his hands, one over the other. "I'm going to take a step back for a moment and put this to you; what do you imagine these assimilations mean?"

Now this, I'll admit was of some irritation to me. I was attending these sessions in the hopes that it wouldn't come down to me to explain to my therapist just what was going on in my head. Especially not on that particular afternoon, when I felt decidedly lazy and impatient, which was not a terribly positive combination when thrown into a stuffy room.

"Well, let's see…" I said, leaning over with my fingertips pressed together and poised in mid-air, just to make clear that I was not about to take any of this seriously. "The syringe is clearly representative of my sexual repression. Notice the predominant phallic theme? The kids hitting each other with sticks pertain to my rampant S and M fetish; the rose of course is my sex drive. It's wilting away because it's not getting any sun, water or attention. The doll is how I view myself, hardened to an impenetrable façade after so many years of romantic isolation, the building with the steeple is undoubtedly a church, which represents the fact that I will never get married, the moon shows I like long walks on the beach at night and picnics by the bay. Oh, and the wine glass is a blatant indication of my prevailing alcoholism. How's my aim?"

Dr. Squirrel took a moment to absorb this and almost succeeded in remaining serious. But sure enough, the sides of his mouth quirked up and the both of us were soon laughing as the tension in the room evaporated such as steam.

"Well, I can say this much," He said, pressing his writing pad to his forehead as a means to hide his laughter. "There's certainly nothing at all wrong with your sense of humor."

"Wish I could have that down in writing," I mused, thinking of how many people would have openly disputed that. Terazuma, in particular.

Dr. Squirrel smiled, seeming to have regained his composure. "I'll make a note of it." He sighed cheerfully as he crossed one leg over the other and settled himself back into working order. "Oh dear… in all seriousness though, I find it interesting that in deconstructing your associations, even if in jest, your interpretations of each 'object' had some manner of romantic or sexual connotation."

"Well what did you expect? I am a man." I said, which caused Dr. Squirrel to laugh again. "Hey doc, we're not going to go into detail about my love life, are we? Because let me tell you straight up, it would be the shortest autobiography in the history of mankind." I waved a hand, indicating that we should move on if possible. "I only said that stuff because everything's somehow sexually related when it comes to you guys."

The doctor chuckled as he pushed his glasses back up his nose with a reflexive pinky finger. "Well, that may be partially true with a Freudian psychiatrist, Tsuzuki-san. I, however, am a Jungian. So, there'll be no blaming mother or your penis today, I'm afraid."

I scoffed, unable to contain myself. "It's hard to blame someone who has never there and something I never use."

"It would seem to me as though you must have some very uncomfortable bladder problems, Tsuzuki-san. How's that workin' for ya?"

This time it was my turn to laugh, for it really had been a quite clever response to a not so well thought out statement, on my behalf. "No, you know what I mean!"

Dr. Squirrel smiled. "Yes I know. I just wasn't able to resist that one. I do apologize." He tapped his pencil rubber against his notepad, again assuming that thoughtful expression. "I confess; this is most intriguing, Tsuzuki-san. You never have mentioned your mother in session before. And you say she was never around?"

I swirled my coffee about distractedly before partaking of the cooling beverage. "I told ya before; Ruka raised me." I set the coffee down and instead picked up an apple from a bowl on the side table and bit into it, feeling the juices run down my chin. "I don't remember much about our parents. They left when I was real small."

"It sounds as though it must have been difficult for both you and your sister." Dr. Squirrel said sympathetically, not taking notes but instead focusing the entirety of his attention on me. Feeling self conscious, I wiped my chin off by unrolling my shirtsleeve and applying it to my face.

"You could say that," I said, taking another bite of the apple when I was sure my face was tidy. "Ruka had to work and run a household… all I ever did was bring trouble home."

"You have mentioned before that there was a great deal of violence towards you from the other children in your district. Is that what you mean when you say 'trouble?'"

"Yeah," I said, shrugging a little as I chewed on my fresh bite of apple. I tried to laugh the age-old feelings off, as I always did but they still made my chest ache when I thought back on just how sad and lonely my childhood had been. "Still, doesn't matter now, right doc?"

Dr. Squirrel gave me an unusually compelling look. "You tell me."

"What's to tell?" I complained; feeling slightly exasperated. "They're not the best memories but I think they've made me more empathetic towards others. I hate to think of anyone being treated the same way that I was."

"Yes," the doc mused, seeming to find my answer satisfying. "I can see that. You're a very kind and thoughtful person. Perhaps this explains the association picture of the children hitting one another."

"… That I hit back?" I said, uncertainly. This didn't seem to describe my personality at all. "I never actually did that. Not until…" I slammed the shutters together to hold back that particular memory and shook my head, to indicate it would not be conveyed aloud. "Never mind…"

"What is it?" Dr. Squirrel prompted, having not taken the hint that I simply did not wish to discuss it. As far as this shrink was concerned, it was all cards on the table, 'let's see what you got and then we'll work from there'. My approach to such things was to hold back a little because you didn't always have to play the hand you're dealt.

"Nothing I want to talk about today. Violence begets violence, right doc?" I flashed him a very cheesy smile and I suppose he was disappointed by my refusal to confide in him but he hid it well.

"The real world is not so ideal, unfortunately." He said, resting back in his armchair. I hadn't even realized that he'd been leaning forwards in the first place. "I never encourage it of course but sadly… there are a number of conflicts I can see would never have been resolved by talk alone. However, your interpretation of the inkblot is not saying that. I believe it represents perseverance. I think, Tsuzuki-san, that you have seen something of that will to fight on within yourself." He seemed very pleased and his face adopted that genuinely warm and approving expression I, and so many other clients, sought so much. "This is a big step, a big development, Tsuzuki-san! It shows perhaps that you are ready now, more than ever, to move on from those memories. Just by showing how you wish to take those sad, hurtful times and transform them alternatively into a means through which to live your life, well! It says so much about who you are and how you adopt means to make good from bad. I'm so very proud to see that."

I could have blushed; so obvious his pleasure was at my apparent development. "Heh… I sure as Hell hope so, doc. But… what the Hell do the rest of these interpretations mean?"

Dr. Squirrel continued to smile as he adjusted his position on the chair to swing his legs ever so casually over the arm, so that they both dangled in midair. "Well, even though you upended a veritable drudgery of sarcasm upon me, Tsuzuki-san, I could see a little something beneath it all."

I groaned, adopting a similar pose to him. It was that time of afternoon when you just couldn't be stuffed with formality. "Not the sexual repression thing again, doc! It's so old hat!"

"I like old hat's. They have character and they always provide the perfect accessory to a well thought out ensemble." He said, displaying one of his trademark habits of saying something incredibly silly and unexpected in an otherwise serious conversation. "If we are to don that particular old hat though, would you be so kind as to tell me whether it fits your head?"

It was rather obscure but he had asked me variations of this question before, though it was usually a boot reference. If it fits… then it has bearing and is worth discussing, in other words. Dr. Squirrel was asking me if there was in fact any truth behind my sexual repression associations.

"Of course it fits, otherwise I wouldn't be so uncomfortable about it, right?" I almost snapped and felt bad at once for being grumpy with him. I wasn't the only one stuck here after hours. He was too and yet, though I'm sure he would much rather have preferred to be home with his girlfriend, he was being incredibly kind and patient with me, approaching what was clearly a sensitive topic with consistently applied compassion. I sighed and conveyed to him how truly sorry I was for having spoken to him in such a manner.

"To be honest, I didn't even notice." Dr. Squirrel confessed, looking towards the ceiling in a confused gesture. "But I'll accept your apology, whatever it was for. Moving right along, if we're to take that angle, then I can only surmise that those other images you identified represent some sort of sexual association. Or romantic, if you prefer."

I pulled a face. "With all due respect, doc. I have never had romantic inclinations towards a syringe."

He gazed at his notes thoughtfully. "No… they don't exactly bring that out in me either. Any thoughts on it?"

I knew exactly what it meant, though I didn't even like thinking about it more than I had to. "… needle phobia." I finally admitted, shifting about on the chair a little as my entire skin twitched from the mere thought of receiving an injection. "From my time spent hospitalized, I suppose."

Dr. Squirrel made a note. "Yes… we have discussed your years within the institution during a previous session."

I sighed, taking another bite of the apple as I looked distractedly out the window, feeling more than a little uncomfortable about the turn our conversation had taken. Dr. Squirrel noticed my discomfort right away, which was the mark of a good psychiatrist I suppose.

"Are you quite all right, Tsuzuki-san?"

"… Yeah…" I drawled, glancing down towards the floor now, lacking the energy required to even make eye contact. I knew that this was rude but I was banking on Dr. Squirrel to understand this. "I guess we've… sort of struck upon a nerve with this talk."

The doctor inclined his head. "I apologize. There's absolutely no need for us to speak of your time in the hospital during this session."

I finally looked up at him. "Oh no, I'm fine with talking about that. I don't remember much of it anyway. It's the um…" I shifted again, to the effect I suppose that it must have looked as though I were attempting to make myself comfortable on a porcupine. "…the sexual stuff I get uncomfortable with."

"Why do you suppose that is?" The doctor asked, sitting up a little just to indicate that I had his full-undivided attention.

I groaned, something I seemed to be doing a lot of in this session and almost considered lobbing what was left of my apple at him. "Doc, please! Can't you just give it to me straight? You're the shrink here. You're supposed to be able to see what's wrong in this dumb brain of mine. I'm too confused about myself to know my left side from my right side at the moment."

He smiled patiently at me until I was through and then said in his ever-unfailingly gentle voice, "I can see why this is frustrating for you, Tsuzuki-san but you must remember that this is the first time you have spoken with me about this particular aspect of your life. I can't even pretend to make an educated guess at this early juncture, let alone render my opinion on what might be done for you." He pointed his pencil at me in what I took to be a rather stern manner. "And I've said this before and I'll say it again; there is nothing wrong with you that a little self-confidence wouldn't cure."

I smiled, feeling awfully touched by such words and the sensitive way he had handled my outburst. "Gotta hand you that one." I took another bite of the apple, almost down to the core of it now I noticed and chewed thoughtfully. "Okay… I guess I can talk about this with you. All confidential, right?"

"Hardly any point to closing that door if it wasn't, Tsuzuki-san."

I laughed. "Just being sure." I took another bite of the apple, stalling for time. "Doc…" I paused to give that hunk of fruit a decidedly voracious chew and Dr. Squirrel continued to wait patiently, smiling pleasantly all the while. The man was surely a Buddha. "I'm not sure what I can tell you about my sex life that would be of any use to us. I don't exactly have one to speak of."

Dr. Squirrel nodded, taking this in. "Right. Well, that's not so unusual, Tsuzuki-san. 'Shinigami' and 'sex-life' you understand are something of an oxymoron."

"Oxy-what?" I asked, having not quite understood him. I'm not the smartest guy around, as I'm sure you already know and I'd never had a formal education. As such, words that were of common usage to most people were sometimes lost on me.

"Opposite meaning." Dr. Squirrel explained and he didn't seem to find my ignorance amusing in the least, for which I was grateful. "It's kind of difficult to have a normal sex life when you're dead."

"Be that as it may, I'm not even talking about my time spent as a Shinigami." I paused at this juncture to glance about the room, checking to see if anyone was listening, though they would have had to have been the most determined eavesdropper on the planet to hide behind a willowy pot plant and a hyper filter. "I'm talking zero. Nada. Zip. Nil."

Dr. Squirrel had been tapping his writing pad with his pencil and now I saw this movement gradually slow as he took in my admission, becoming progressively more shocked by it I suppose. He blinked at me incredulously, as though awaiting a correction that was not coming. "In so saying… you…" He swung his legs off of the arm of the chair and back onto the floor, facing me entirely. "Are you trying to tell me that you have never had sexual intercourse? … At all?"

"Hit the nail on the head, doc." I said, taking the last remnant of soft fruit from the apples surface and then spinning the core about in the air by its stem. For some reason, I felt vaguely satisfied that I'd been able to shock the doctor a little. He was always so calm and collected; it was good to see that some of my problems had obvious merit.

"Oh my…" He said, leaning back from me, seeming quite disbelieving. "… Well… I must admit… I'm a little surprised." No shit, I thought. "Not even pro-mortem?"

In case you're wondering, he was referring to the time when I was alive. "How could I possibly? No one was brave enough to go out with me for fear of what anyone else would say or do. And during my most sexually active years I was institutionalized and in a mostly catatonic state, to cap it off. Where could a sex life possibly be squeezed in?"

It seemed as though Dr. Squirrel thought that I was somehow mistaken and that I had actually had sex but had somehow forgotten. "And in the seventy years since?"

"… I've never felt comfortable with it." I confessed, still spinning that core resolutely in circles above my head. "I spent years trying to figure myself out. Sexually, I mean. By the time I thought that I had, I just couldn't imagine how a normal sex-life for me would have been possible. I got old… habitualized with what was familiar, what worked for me. It's something I've never had, so it's not something I miss, if you get what I mean."

"Well, I just sort of assumed… I mean, considering how popular you are…" Dr. Squirrel halted this chain of thought, as something obviously came to mind. "Concerning your sexuality, Tsuzuki-san. Am I to take this to mean that you are-?"

I sighed, peeling off a smidgen of apple skin between my teeth and chewing on it, as a means of occupying myself. "That's the million dollar question, doc. I've had feelings towards girls before but they've never been anything stronger than a fondness… entirely non-physical, for the most part. I look to women the same sort of way I looked to my sister. As someone who is to be respected, adored, loved… at a distance."

Dr. Squirrel was now scribbling so furiously I was concerned he might have set the notepad alight. He looked just like an excited journalist, claiming the scoop for the mornings' paper. "So, it is men that you are predominately interested in?"

I admit, I had to think about this seriously because it seemed quite a big thing for me to finally admit out loud. "Well… I guess so. It pisses me off something shocking, doc. I don't care if I'm straight or gay, so long as it's one or the other. I don't wanna be bisexual. It's so… sleazy." I scratched the crown of my head with my spare hand, feeling the bare beginnings of a headache. "It has such a slutty connotation."

"If I'm to understand that you have no sexually based feelings towards women," Dr. Squirrel considered, holding his pencil poised between his teeth and bobbing it up and down. "It would seem to me that you are perhaps homosexual. Correct me if I'm wrong. You are the one who is the better judge of your own feelings."

I swallowed back a thick lump that had formed in the nadir of my throat. Though I understood that it was foolish to think of my words as being set in stone, there seemed to be something final in actually admitting such personal feelings out loud. It had always been introspective musings; the consideration of my sexuality and what it meant for me. But that's all they ever had been: musings. With no concrete basis for reality. I'd never felt the need to take any decisive standing on it but now… I couldn't quite fathom why exactly but I felt that to speak of it to Dr. Squirrel was to give it flesh and bone, whereas until now it had been nothing more substantial than a wisp of smoke. Of course it is senseless but when you are considering such matters that determine a large part of your own identity… well, it's frightening, to say the least. As I'm sure you're all well aware of yourselves!

"No…" I finally stated, though I wasn't outwardly disagreeing with him. "I think I just… you know, love the person, whether they be male or female. I don't sleep around, obviously, so I don't think that sort of view is particularly slutty."

"I believe that is a very mature way of looking at it."

I smiled grimly at the doctor as I tossed the apple core back and forth between my hands. It felt hard to smile all of a sudden and I wondered how I looked from his eyes now that he was privy to this shameful side of me. "Told you there was something wrong with me, doc."

He gave me what I took to be a very scolding look. "Oh goodness, Tsuzuki-san. There's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

"Not even for a hundred years?" I asked, skeptically. Dr. Squirrel smiled.

"I'll admit that it's a little unusual but that shouldn't at all suggest it is a bad thing. There's no reason to force yourself into doing something that doesn't feel natural to you."

"That's what Watari said." I murmured, looking down towards my now sticky hands thoughtfully.

Dr. Squirrel nodded. "Well, you should listen to Watari-san. It's good that you have spoken with someone else about these things." He twiddled the pencil about in mid air, much like a martial artist demonstrating staff choreography on a not so grand a scale. "Does Watari-san make you feel uncomfortable regarding this aspect of your life?"

I shook my head persuasively. "Oh no. Not really. Sometimes he teases me about it but if he sees I'm really upset by it, he knows when to take a step back. He's actually been really supportive." I sighed deeply, feeling the weight of guilt bearing down upon my chest. "I feel bad now I haven't seen him in so long."

"Be that as it may," Dr. Squirrel said, pointing at me with his pencil, now sporting a number of additional teeth marks. "I can now better understand some of your concerns. It seems as though this sort of thing could be additionally frustrating."

I lifted my brow in something of a curt manner. "Frustrating?' Doc, I long for the days of 'frustrating'. 'Frustrating' was a holiday in Bermuda. … I keep a picture of 'Frustrating' in a heart shaped frame next to my bed. … Frustrating is-"

Dr. Squirrel held up a hand to indicate I needn't go any further. "I follow you. And it seems as though there's something behind these association tasks after all. A rose, the moon, a wine glass – these things make you think of…?"

"Well, romance I suppose." I said, shrugging nonchalantly. It didn't take a PhD to figure that out. "But I don't get that feeling looking at them."

"Really?" He seemed intrigued now. "Well, that's interesting. What feeling do you get?"

"Hard to say," I mumbled, thinking back to the impression I'd had upon observing each of the cards when presented to me. Once more I registered that unfamiliar surge of anticipation that had been persistently besetting me throughout the day. "Like I'm waiting for something to happen. I look at these images, I feel the same way." I considered, finger poised against the curve of my chin. "The moon… I watch it most nights. To see if it's going to turn red before my eyes. It will mean the games on again. The roses, well… we had a rose garden at our home here in Tokyo all those years ago but I don't think of that when I see this picture. I see… something pure that's been stained. Like… there's an image in my memory I can't quite break into." I tapped the side of my head, frustrated. "The wine glass… I admit I do drink a lot but again, I don't see that when I look at the picture."

Dr. Squirrel picked up the inkblot card under discussion, examining it for himself before showing it to me once again. "It is interesting because most people see a woman when they look at this picture."

I cocked my head to the side, trying to adopt this perception but not entirely seeing it. "I can understand how they might make that association… but no, I still see the wine glass. The doll face…" Dr. Squirrel now held this particular card up for me. "I see a cold mask that looks beautiful and poised… but that's all it is. A mask. There's something behind it that's so much fouler and uglier and truer then what the rest of the world sees."

Dr. Squirrel looked pleasantly surprised. "Tsuzuki-san… that's an insightful interpretation."

"Cheers doc."

"Can you bring it all together somehow?"

I took a minute to chew on all of this, trying to decide exactly what all of it meant. "I think… you're right about the picture of the kids with sticks. I do feel like I'm ready to persevere and fight on. The syringe is just a remnant of my old fears but I think… I think it also represents a current fear."

"And what might that be?" The doctor asked, looking at me curiously.

My eyes darted about the room of their own volition and I felt anxiety start to swell in my chest, to the degree where I actually had no choice but to forcefully repress it. I didn't want to think of him unless I had to… it made everything that much more difficult. "I'm afraid… that I'll… become well. And feel safe and happy again. And as soon as I do… that moon will change again."

"You keep saying the moon…" The doctor leant back in his chair, scratching his hairline with the pencil eraser before sliding the rubber back between his teeth and giving it a good chew. "From the reports I've received, I understand that this is in fact a quite literal thing you are mentioning and not a visual hallucination." He whisked the pencil out from between his teeth and pointed it at me so quickly I saw spittle come hurtling off of the end. "When you refer to your 'present fear', am I to take it that you are in fact speaking of… him."

I bit my lip, hearing my voice issue so softly from my lungs that it seemed to come in fact from a great distance. "… yeah…"

Dr. Squirrel's eyes sloped downwards sympathetically. "He seems to have caused you quite a bit of trouble, hasn't he?"

I scoffed. "Like you couldn't imagine, doc."

"Kazutaka Muraki…" Dr. Squirrel climbed to his feet and crossed the room to distribute some water into the corner pot plant, granting me a moment to repose myself. Having reminded myself of just what that… man had done to so many was enough to bring tears to my eyes. "They've come to refer to him as the Red Moon's Calamity. I suppose that's because we have no real way of knowing just what he truly is."

I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue from the box always kept in ready supply on the side table. I'd been determined not to cry, regardless of what we discussed within the session; but it soon occurred to me that crying was perhaps exactly what I needed in order to soothe my anxiety. And where better to indulge upon it than this setting? And suddenly it felt so easy, like letting sand slide through my fingers

"He's on my mind so much. In my dreams, my nightmares…" I could feel myself becoming increasingly distressed, just thinking about him. "I try but I just can't seem to shake him! He's in my thoughts in the waking hour, when I sleep, when I work… I can't escape from him!" I gesticulated to thin air, not yet composed enough to want to face Dr. Squirrel and have him witness the torture present on my face. "When I was in the Hall of Candles for the party celebrating the completion of the renovations, I saw a vision of him with both arms torn completely off! That image came directly from my mind. What does that say about me? He's a monster – a calamity, just like you said and I…" I pressed a hand over my mouth, stifling a sob that threatened to spill over into reality. When I was sure I had a grip on myself I continued speaking, though my voice still wavered tellingly. "I feel guilty… for injuring him. And I live in terror that I might have even hurt him worse than I initially thought!" I sank my face down into my hands, trying to cover the tears as they streamed out uninhibited. Every tear that slid down my cheeks I cried for a different reason for there seemed so much to be mourned! I cried for Hisoka, for the life he would never be able to live. I cried for myself and for the other Shinigami and what would become of us all. I even cried for Muraki; so ruined and dark and unfathomable and cried for what evil could have possibly created him. Cried, it seemed, because there would be no ending it, not ever and to realize it, the futility of it all, was heartbreaking beyond all possible endurance. I heard Dr. Squirrel cross the room and sit down in front of me again, reaching over to gently clasp my wrists, just administering his touch. "I'm the worst… I should have killed him. And I shouldn't have to hate myself for having hurt him."

I don't think Dr. Squirrel quite knew what to say to any of what I had revealed, for he was reposed in silence for quite some time. "I'm so sorry," He said at last, releasing my wrists as I pulled my fingers away from my face. He passed me the tissue box, encouraging me to take another and dry my eyes. "I know you find it hard to understand now but… you did do the right thing. You preserved a human life and you feel sad that someone was hurt on account of your actions. You said yourself that you never wanted to treat anyone the way you yourself had been treated. Hmm?" He smiled kindly at me and I felt reassured a little, hearing the reason in what he was saying. I returned his smile as I wiped my eyes.

"Yeah…" I said, blowing my nose for extra measure before lobbing the scrunched up tissue into the wastepaper basket. "… yeah… I guess so…"

Dr. Squirrel kept eye contact with me as he spoke, so I knew that what he was saying was of extreme importance. "It's quite all right for you to feel sad but don't make the mistake of feeling guilty about these emotions." He shook his finger at me in a gentle chiding manner. "Doesn't it show what a profoundly kind and generous man you are, Tsuzuki-san? To care about someone's life and well being, regardless of what manner of person they are?"

"But Muraki… he's hurt so many people." I said, almost pleading for this to be recognized. "Even just to hurt me. I don't…" My eyes fell to the floor, sliding shut for lack of any other response to such anger and confusion. "I don't… understand people like him."

"From what you've told me, it sounds as though this Muraki fellow has a number of psychopathic tendencies," Dr. Squirrel understated, leaning back in his chair, continuing to suck on his pencil in place of a cigarette I supposed. "He possesses a high ego, his methods are cutthroat, ruthless, dispassionate, he expresses a profound lack of empathy… psychopaths will go to any length to achieve their goals. It is a…" He paused for a moment, apparently thinking of the word most befitting of concluding his thoughts. "… terrible affliction."

I glanced up at him, eyes red raw and sore from too much rubbing. "So then… Muraki has a mental disorder, the same as me."

Dr. Squirrel shook his head. "You're a little different, Tsuzuki-san. I couldn't say for sure just what Muraki's affliction is but I can say with confidence that you have a mood disorder, coupled with severe clinical depression – hence the prescribed antidepressant Lexapro (2)." He flashed me a heartening smile. "I believe however, having reviewed your progress, that you would benefit from a reduced dosage."

I perked up at hearing this. "Hey, some good news!"

The doctor made a note on his pad. "I'd like you to continue taking the pill with your evening meal and let me know how that goes." He waved the pencil at me. "I strongly recommend renewing your prescription until a final evaluation of your emotional and mental state. Is that all right with you?"

I dabbed my hand congenially at him. "You're the doc, doc."

He winked at me. "You know it. Now, as for everything else, the best possible recommendation I can make at this stage is just to keep your friends' close and work through each day one at a time. If you keep your eyes on that moon, your anxiety is only likely to increase. Take comfort in the things you enjoy doing, though I strongly suggest that you cut down on the drinking." Again, he shook the pencil at me. "For your own sake."

I stuck my tongue out, perhaps a little cheekily. "Don't believe in alternative medicine, doc?"

"Not if you're taking it along with what I've prescribed you!" He exclaimed, closing up his notepad and setting it down on his desktop. "And I do realize that a Shinigami sustains no lasting damage from drinking or smoking, etc but that's not what I'm worried about. My concern is that you'll become dependent on the drinking in order to make yourself feel a sense of calmness and normality. Eventually the amount will have to steadily increase to correspond with your tolerance level. You'll need to drink more just to feel calm and the more you drink… you see where I'm going with this?"

"I can see myself going bankrupt." I said, amused by Dr. Squirrel's concern.

He laughed. "That could be one of the problem's, yes. Just do us all a favor and think of alternative means of relaxing. I'm not saying you can't drink, just try not to depend on it too much. I was young once too, you know."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "Unfortunately doc, that's not an excuse I can use anymore." He gave me a particularly stern look. "I got you. I'll try and behave myself. Is that it?"

He checked his watch. "We've wrapped up earlier than I expected… I suppose I can let you have an early minute. Just don't tell your boss I did."

"He's already gone home for the night." I said, climbing to my feet and dusting the seat of my pants off. "Hey… thanks, doc." I reached out to shake his hand and realized after he'd taken it that my fingers were still sticky from my early fiddling with the apple. But if Dr. Squirrel noticed, he chose not to mention it. "I'm sorry I whine so much… you really are a help."

The doctor continued to smile as he released my hand and moved to perch himself on his desk chair, which he mounted backwards, much like a rebellious schoolboy. "I know it can't be any fun talking to a daft old coot like me. But don't forget it keeps me employed, so I guess in a way it's me that owes you the thanks." He held his hand up to the side of his face, pinky finger and thumb extended. "I'll give you a call to schedule your next appointment, okay?"

"Sounds good." I finally rid myself of the apple core, tossing it into the bin. "Owe you an apple."

Dr. Squirrel, already busying himself with paperwork, waved a hand carelessly over his shoulder. "Keep it. I dare say I have enough fruit cluttering up the office as it is."

I made a mock angry face. "Hey, I'll leave if you give me half a chance!"

He laughed, realizing the faux pas and appreciating how I'd chosen to respond to it. "Go on, get outta here. Go do something nice for yourself."

I chuckled appreciatively. "Think I'll do just that." I waved my hand, even though his back was turned. "See ya, doc."

Dr. Squirrel smiled over his shoulder. "Take care, Tsuzuki-san."

- EC -

(1)The Holtzman Inkblot Test, conceived by Wayne Holtzman, is a projective personality test similar to the Rorschach Inkblot test. The Holtzman Inkblot Test was invented to correct many — if not all — of the controversial issues aroused by the Rorschach Inkblot Test.

The test consists of two alternate forms of forty-five inkblots, originally drawn from a pool of several thousand. Scoring is based on twenty-two items: reaction time, rejection, location, space, form definiteness, form appropriateness, color, shading, movement, pathognomonic verbalization, integration, content (human, animal, anatomy, sexual, or abstract), anxiety, hostility, barrier, penetration, balance, and popularity.

Scoring takes a very long time if the test is not administered by computer. The Holtzman Inkblot Test is used primarily with students, children, and with patients suffering from schizophrenia, head trauma or depression. A professional tester is required to obtain accurate results and interpretation. The Holtzman Inkblot Test has been used in both experimental and clinical applications.

(2) Escitalopram (Lexapro by Forest Laboratories) is an antidepressant of the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor class. It has been approved for use in the treatment of major depressive disorders and generalized anxiety disorder; other indications include social anxiety disorder, panic disorder and obsessive-compulsive disorder. Tsuzuki has been prescribed Lexapro to help control his depression, as well as to assist him in dealing with a possible panic disorder. (Note the amount of panic attacks he has throughout Dark Adaptation in particular, owing to the episode he had in Kyoto. It is related directly to his severe clinical depression).

A/N: Well guys, I know that was quite boring but believe it or not, it's actually necessary for stuff I have coming up at a later date! It would be swell to have some reviews of the nice persuasion and then I'll feel extra encouraged to get part two out as quickly as possible! By the by, thankyou for Jollyolly and ViolentRoses for pre-reading and betta-ring for me. You guys are the best! More exciting stuff coming up I promise! Thanks again for your support, dear readers! Please show your support with a review but don't bother to flame me if you didn't like it. I don't come to your house and say mean things about your taste in interior decorating, so don't come into my stories and say you don't like the content. ... It's not really the same thing but oh well! XD

This won't take long to update! All this stuff is already written, I'm just waiting for Jollyolly to finish betta-ring for me, so I'll see ya's all soon!

Love ya guys! ~ Hickok ~