Disclaimer: Obviously don't own YnM, or the characters.

Notes: This is going a a totally different route, though the events during the anime did happen. Otherwise, very AU. Things will be explained in time. For now, enjoy. :) Also, the italics are the past, the regular font is the present. Major boys' love, Tsuzuki/Hisoka, and some Muraki/Hisoka.

Death Cycle

He could feel those eyes on him again. Silent, but there, he was becoming more and more aware of him as reality grew dimmer.

He was sure he was starting to be able to see him. Just at the corner of his eyes. A shadow with piercing green eyes, and ghostly skin that shone in the moonlight.

It wouldn't be too much longer…. It couldn't be…

"Are you so eager?" a sigh, cool hands touched his skin around his wrist, gently lifting it up, one soft finger tracing the broken edges of the newest wound. He'd already torn the bandages off himself.

He'd only just started to hear him a week ago, to feel him. If he didn't already believe himself insane, he would have thought himself so then, "Yes."

"Such a waste," there was a tinge of sadness there, and he believed he caught the sight of emerald again.

"How much longer?" he didn't want to think on those words.

There was a long pause, those fingers ever so gentle as they messaged his wrist, faintly causing his wounds to bleed again, "Soon, very soon. Probably tonight."

"I can't wait," he smiled a little, looking up to the dark, cracked ceiling above.

"You've waited a long time," the other admitted, "Eight years."

Had it been that long? He no longer remembered. The days had long since blended together, becoming little more than muted light and sharp darkness in his mind. Not that it mattered, it was just part of his punishment, for being who he was, and what he had done…

"You're in such pain," tender fingers touched his cheek, breaking his thoughts into splinters again, shards that glinted with blood, "Do you really think it will end when you go?"

No, he didn't believe that. He almost hoped that he would suffer forever, it is what he deserved. For his sins, for what he had done to others….

No, he was meant to be in torment. He just wanted to remove the danger from everyone else. Surely the other could see that he was a demon, a monster like they had always called him…. He didn't deserve to live with everyone else, he would just hurt them all in the end.

"So I see…" he was sure that voice was becoming clearer, could now see the pure color of those eyes, see the outline of that hand touching him and the face turned to him. A little longer, and he could make out the body.

A little longer….

"Ready to go?" he could hear him as he stood; see the white cloth that he was cloaked in flare briefly as he sharply turned. One pale hand was thrust to him, skin smooth, flawless, perfect, just like the rest of him. Sandy blond hair fell around a face not much older than seemingly himself, when he had stopped aging at eighteen. Or so he remembered, it was hard to tell. When had he come here?

It was no matter, his escape had come.

He reached for that hand, grasping death cool flesh, and the other helped him to stand easily. Relief touched him briefly, he felt free, alive, as he had not since…. He shied from the memories, clinging tight to that hand still, as if to a lifeline.

He glanced back, and froze, watching as the pooling blood on his bed trickled down the once white sheets, staining everywhere, including the lifeless, almost pathetic body there….

One hand covered over his eyes, before the memories could return with a vengeance, "Let's go, Tsuzuki. There's nothing here now," gently, he was turned around, away from his empty shell.

That hand was removed, and he looked down to the other, just noticing that he was a bit shorter then himself, "That's the first time you've said my name…." He had to distract himself.

A light smile, just a bit tight, "So it is."

That hand was in his again, leading him along, away from the scene, away from the mortal world itself as they exited the little room that he had been in for so long, into an entirely different place. He paused as they did, feeling the sun warm stones under his bare feet, in awe at the sight of all around him. It was spring here… everything was alive… It seemed so odd, to think of this as the place where the dead dwelled….

He wasn't supposed to be in such a place, he would only stain such perfection.

A tug on his hand again, "It's not what you think. This is the place between, where we are all judged."

That eased him a bit. He didn't fear being judged, he was sure they would see his crimes, and punish him like he had deserved and desired for so long.

And he had his white cloaked savior to thank for delivering him there…

"What's your name?" he felt he had to know.

The other didn't pause, though those eyes looked back to him, seeming to almost glint with a thousand secrets, "Hisoka, just Hisoka."

For the first time in eight years, Tsuzuki felt himself smile brightly, "Thank you, Hisoka."

"Kurosaki is missing again?" Tatsumi asked him as he settled to work, donut in one hand, though he didn't seem interested in it.

Pausing for a moment, Tsuzuki looked to him, and gave as best a smile as he could. "He didn't sleep well."

"Just like he didn't the last three nights," was the return, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the older brushed off, "He's fine, Tatsumi."

The accountant looked unconvinced, blue eyed gaze narrowing as he settled fine hands on Tsuzuki's desk. Tsuzuki knew that look, knew what was coming, and merely looked up innocently at him, hoping to stave off things long enough to scarf down the donut he didn't even have an appetite for, just to make sure he didn't make him more worried.

"Tsuzuki, the act isn't fooling me, something is wrong," Tatsumi was rarely so forward with him on anything but money and himself. And even then, he seemed often over careful when concerning himself.

At least until Kyoto, things had changed a lot since then….

His own fault, he knew.

He shoved the donut into his mouth, just to avoid answering, and to shove back the memories. He didn't need those right now, could not let the guilt get to him. He didn't want to make anyone worried….

Tatsumi's right eye twitched, but he said nothing, waiting him out. Just like always. He had gained a lot of patience since working with him, he had to note that…

Swallowing finally, he grimaced a little, "Things are fine. He's just taking a little while to recover."

"We all know Kurosaki isn't that weak, he was here and fine the week before this," was the point out, before that frown tilted more, "Is it Muraki?" his tone had lowered, almost careful as if he would break something saying the man's name.

Swiftly, Tsuzuki shook his head, "No. It has nothing to do with him."

Yet it did… But not in the way Tatsumi was thinking.

"Tatsumi, I think you had better let Tsuzuki get to work," the words were clipped, rough, and brought instant relief to him, as he glanced around his old friend to Konoe.

The older man had his hands behind him, waiting as Tatsumi straightened, and turned to face him. It almost looked as if the younger would protest, but the look in the older's eyes made him pause. Obviously unsatisfied, but accepting for the moment, the accountant retreated, leaving them alone in the office.

Tsuzuki had come in early, the time that Hisoka would be coming, if he was well…

Konoe moved forward, expression easing, something almost sad glinting in his aged face, "Should I assume that it relates to that?"

Tsuzuki knew what he was talking about. He was the only one that remembered, that knew what was happening. The only one that had been there…

"He's remembering, bit by bit. It's hurting him, but if I remember right…. He told me once that it always did. It's just…" he looked away, stifling the pain, shutting out the thoughts within.

"It hurts you both," Konoe understood, and for that, he was grateful, "What are you doing here then?"

That brought a weak, flickering smile to his lips, "Hisoka forced me to." He had yelled and thrown things, informing him if he wasn't there, then at least Tsuzuki should be. Someone had to do their work.

A shake of the head, "Go home. Take care of him. The higher up will understand."

Faintly, Tsuzuki felt his face tense, his teeth grit, "He would, this is his fault."

Konoe's face closed, "Do not say such here, Tsuzuki. For your sake and Kurosaki's."

A nod, though he still felt that old anger begging to rise. Standing, he gathered his work, and Hisoka's. Seeing his boss's questioning look, he shrugged, "It's to keep him comfortable. Hisoka hates missing work."

A nod of understanding, "That's how he's always been."

Tsuzuki knew that well, better than anyone else, "Thanks, Konoe." With that, he left quickly, to avoid anyone else coming in.