Notes: Be warned – this is a very unusual deathfic, but it's a deathfic nonetheless.
Italics denote either a flashback or Enma-Daioh speaking. Hopefully it'll be clear which is which!
Many thanks to Penny, my beta and best friend!
Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei and its characters are the property of Matsushita Yoko. Formatting errors, however, are mine, all mine!
------------------
The Caretaker
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Had it not been for Kurosaki Hisoka's remarkable regenerative abilities, Tatsumi's shadow would have held not one but two pitiful corpses, rescued from the black inferno only moments before Shion Dai exploded.
===
"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-san," whispered Tatsumi, lowering his head.
His words faded into the silence of the infirmary ward, their truth holding no power to change the past or offer any consolation in the present.
Folding his hands neatly in his lap, the secretary continued to talk in the same low, steady tone: "I am afraid it is unlikely that we will be able to give him a proper funeral, but we will at least hold a wake and pay our respects." He paused for a moment, straightening his tie and adjusting his spectacles for what was probably the tenth time in the last five minutes. Was it right to be discussing this with the unconscious boy? Would the words impede his recovery or would they convince him that there was still something worth fighting for?
===
"Heartless bastard!" hissed Watari, glaring right through Enma-Daioh's hapless messenger as if this would somehow convey his sentiments beyond the minion and directly to the Lord of Meifu himself.
Tatsumi stood as though turned to stone. Numb with grief, he was aware that Enma-Daioh had given orders that Tsuzuki-san's body be brought to him immediately but the messenger's words failed to connect with his brain in any meaningful way.
"And if I refuse?" he heard himself saying. As though acting of their own accord, his arms folded themselves defiantly across his chest.
"Then my master will come for him."
"Very well, then." Mechanically, Tatsumi knelt down to where Tsuzuki's body lay, carefully wrapped in an insulated blanked to prevent the unnaturally high temperature of his remains from accidentally incinerating anything. Gingerly, he lifted his former partner and was taken aback by the warmth and lightness of his body. He held the bundle gently but firmly in his arms, and stared in blank silence back towards Shion Dai, watching dark figures scurry about their business, silhouetted against the distant but still fierce glow of the fire before fading from view into the smoky night air. With Tsuzuki so warm against his chest, Tatsumi found it hard to accept that any of this was real.
"Tsuzuki-san," he said, levelly, "I hope you understand that all this..." he nodded towards the smouldering building "will have to be deducted from your salary." He looked down at the shimmering silvery form in his arms and almost choked, a spasm of grief wracking his body.
No. If he allowed himself to accept that what he held was a heat-resistant body-bag, he would not be able to go through with this. He owed it to Tsuzuki to dissuade Enma-Daioh from doing anything other than letting the troubled shinigami rest in peace.
Tatsumi turned slowly to face the young messenger, and took a step towards him.
"We are ready to accompany you," he said, with a quiet determination.
===
The quiet of the infirmary was disturbed by a bleep from the fax machine.
"You will be pleased to know that Terazuma-san and Kannuki-san have agreed to handle any cases in Kyushu for the time being," said Tatsumi, almost conversationally, as he retrieved the fax. He greatly doubted that Hisoka was in any state to have an opinion one way or the other on how the workload was being handled in his absence, but it was somehow reassuring to keep the Shokan division operating efficiently during a time of crisis. With help from Watari, he had set up a temporary workstation in one corner of the infirmary so that he would be able keep abreast of the work and stay with the young empath around the clock.
"Ah, this is the summons I was expecting from Enma-Daioh-sama," he remarked, trying to keep the his tone neutral and his silent rage shielded. "He has confirmed that he wishes me to appear before him at nine o' clock tomorrow morning. Kurosaki-san, if it is within my powers, I will retrieve Tsuzuki-san so that we may find a peaceful resting place for him."
There was no response from the bandage-clad shinigami, who had remained silent and motionless for six days now. Tatsumi refused to believe that things were hopeless, despite Watari's assertions that Kurosaki-san was no nearer to healing than he had been when they first brought him to the hospital. The skin grafts should have taken by now, but the young shinigami's body remained a mass of festering sores and flesh that more closely resembled melted, distorted wax than anything human. There had been no change in his condition, no indication that he was any closer to regaining consciousness.
"It's as though he doesn't want to get better," Watari had observed, grimly. "As I'm sure you know, shinigami healing powers come as much from the will of the mind as from the body."
Tatsumi reached over to his in-tray and lifted a small stack of already-sorted paperwork, which he proceeded to check through for the third time that day, tapping the stack against the desk when he had finished, to ensure that they formed a neat pile. The ritual offered him a few moments of distraction and a transient sense of rightness, but did little to quell either the overwhelming sense of emptiness or the despair, guilt and self-disgust that seeped through him.
"Tsuzuki-san... With your death, please break me..."
Tatsumi understood that he, himself, deserved to be broken for failing Tsuzuki, but he had never meant for others to break, too.
Rising from his chair, he walked slowly over to where Hisoka lay unconscious, and sat down on the bed next to his.
"Kurosaki-san," he said quietly, reaching out to take one limp, bandaged hand in his, "Please remember that I am here for you."
===
"Tatsumi Seiichirou, I am sure that you are well aware that you have failed in one of your important duties as a shinigami."
The shadowmaster remained silent When he had brought Tsuzuki here seven days previously, he had been informed that Enma-Daioh had important issues to discuss with him at a later date, and had been half-expecting this. For his own part, he saw no point in pleading for leniency, but his own feelings were not the issue here.
"Tatsumi-san, have you nothing to say?"
Tatsumi bristled at the cool superiority and the hint of mockery in Enma-Daioh's tone.
"My Lord, I am not here to plead my own case. I am prepared to accept whatever sentence you see fit to pass on me. I came here today to ask that Tsuzuki-san's soul be allowed to rest in peace and that his body be returned to the Shokan division."
Enma's laughter filled the room, an ugly, unnatural sound, echoing hollowly through the screen that separated his domain from that of lesser immortals.
"I would appreciate it if you would answer my question, My Lord," said Tatsumi, coldly.
"I am not obliged to answer any of your questions, Tatsumi-san. Are you aware of why I appointed you as a shinigami?"
Tatsumi's shadows twitched, extending slowly towards the screen, only to be met with a contemptuous sneer and banished by a flash of blinding light.
"Such a petulant display of temper, Tatsumi-kun. I am well aware of your capacity as a kagetsukai. Do you know the other reason I appointed you?"
Tatsumi remained silent. He had no wish to discuss his own affairs, as those were of no consequence in the current situation.
"Very well, if you do not wish to answer me, I can end our conversation here and now, and remove you as a shinigami."
Tatsumi adjusted his spectacles, and composed himself. "I was not aware that you had a second reason for appointing me, My Lord," he said, eventually.
"There was little cause to tell you, as you seemed willing to fulfil the role anyway, albeit rather incompetently."
The insult stung and infuriated Tatsumi, but he refused to rise to the bait and risk jeopardizing his mission.
"Perhaps you could tell me what this role was, My Lord?" he replied, with frosty civility.
"I think you need to convince me that I did not totally misplace my faith in you before I can answer that."
Tatsumi's spectacles were beginning to steam up with his annoyance, but he maintained a calm and polite tone. "And how may I best do that?"
Enma snorted. "Admit your own hypocrisy, Tatsumi-san."
The shadowmaster drew in a deep breath and wondered when Enma-Daioh was going to get to the point of this inquisition. "If it so pleases you, could you elaborate, My Lord?" he replied, his tone almost dripping contempt.
"Your real desire is not that Tsuzuki-san's soul be left to rest in peace, is it, Tatsumi-san?"
"What possible business of yours is that?"
Tatsumi's enraged words only provoked a peal of derisive laughter from the Lord of Meifu.
"Can you honestly tell me, Tatsumi-san, that you do not regret his death, that you do not wish that he was still with you?"
The question hurt, and Tatsumi paused for a moment before answering: "I only wish for Tsuzuki-san's happiness, My Lord."
"So, Tatsumi-san, can I take it as your final answer that you would rather that Tsuzuki-san was able to rest in peace than that he was with you now, as your colleague and friend?"
Crumbling inwardly, Tatsumi agonized over the answer he should give. Did he truly want what was best for Tsuzuki, or....
"If you answer untruthfully, Tatsumi-san, I will have no choice but to ascend you here and now."
The shadowmaster cared little for his own life or his future as a shinigami at that moment, but the awareness that he would be unable to do anything for Tsuzuki if he was sent on pushed him towards self-preservation.
"For Tsuzuki-san's sake, I would like him to rest peacefully; for my own sake, I wish he could be with me as more than just a memory." Tatsumi's throat was dry, and his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.
"So you admit to your own hypocrisy, do you, Tatsumi-san? Do you admit that despite your claims to want Tsuzuki-san's soul to rest in peace, you would not turn him away if he could be with you now, even despite the fact that you have failed him repeatedly?"
Tatsumi buried his face in his hands and couldn't bring himself to speak for a few moments. The pain in his chest, which had been slowly building at Enma-Daioh's words was now becoming unbearable. "Tsuzuki-san, please forgive me," he whispered, the sorry remains of his integrity and self-esteem shattering into myriad shards, each one piercing his soul. Was he about to betray the very man he had been trying to save?
"Your answer please, Tatsumi-san." Enma's tone was cold, dispassionate, the voice of a being who cared nothing about the insignificant feelings of a mere shinigami and everything about using them for his own purposes.
"Yes, My Lord, I admit it," muttered Tatsumi, now a broken man awaiting punishment for his sins.
"Very well then, I shall tell you. I appointed you as his caretaker."
Tatsumi swallowed hard and took a step backwards to lean against the wall of the narrow room. He had been unprepared for this revelation and for the rush of emotion that he felt upon hearing it. The suppressed grief welled up within him and he would have given anything to be able to go back in time and muster the strength needed to protect and stand by Tsuzuki when he most needed him. But no, he, Tatsumi Seiichirou had been unable to help those who had mattered to him the most. He had been weak in the face of distress and insanity when he should have been a pillar of strength.
"I do not expect my minions to fail me in their duties – particularly not where it concerns Meifu's most powerful shinigami. Do not misunderstand me, Tatsumi-san – I care nothing for his or your happiness. What concerns me is that he has a long history of insanity and that I appointed you to help stabilize him."
Recoiling in disgust at Enma-Daioh's lack of humanity, Tatsumi felt sick to the pit of his stomach. He had always known that the Lord of Meifu considered shinigami to be mere pawns in the grand scheme of things, but in the face of his own personal grief and guilt, these unfeeling words were crushing. One of the things that had made Tsuzuki so special was his boundless ability to care and love, and without that warmth, Meifu would have been a cold and desolate place for himself and his colleagues.
Tatsumi took a deep breath, steadied himself and approached the screen again. He knew that Enma-Daioh would hardly waste time by summoning him here purely so that he could torture him.
"What is it that you want from me?" he demanded, unable to muster his usual civility. The words would have choked him.
"I believe you are forgetting your manners, Tatsumi-san."
Tatsumi clenched his teeth and put one hand to his temple as if to ward off the impending headache. "What do you want from me, Enma-Daioh-sama?" he hissed, enunciating every syllable with utter distaste.
"I have an important assignment for you, and this time failure will NOT be tolerated."
A pitiful surge of hope pulsed through Tatsumi, but he did everything he could to quash it. To get his hopes up now only to have them dashed again would almost certainly break him.
"What is this assignment, My Lord?" he inquired, his voice devoid of the emotions that raged within him.
"What business is that of yours until you have agreed to it, Tatsumi-san?"
The secretary's headache was beginning to get the better of him, and he contemplated his options. If he rejected Enma-Daioh's assignment, he would almost certainly be ascended, and he would have made no further progress in securing even a glimmer of hope for Tsuzuki's broken and battered soul.
"Very well, My Lord, I accept."
Tatsumi waited impatiently for Enma-Daioh to answer, and was discomfited by the silence which followed.
"May I ask what my assignment is?"
Silence.
"Am I to take care of and guide Kurosaki-san?" This was the most hopeful task that he could imagine might be assigned to him, and one which he would carry out gladly. His words, however, were met by a snort of laughter.
"Tatsumi-san, do you really think that YOU are the person he needs?"
"Perhaps not, but since the one he needs is no longer with us, I promised myself that I will take care of him."
There was a slight disturbance of the air around Tatsumi's ankles, and he looked down to see what had materialized there. Completely bemused, Tatsumi rubbed his eyes, blinked, and pushed his spectacles back up his nose. He wasn't imagining things. At his feet sat a small white puppy, gazing up at him with big, sorrowful and pleading eyes.
Tatsumi knelt down and cautiously extended a hand towards the creature. The puppy whimpered and cowered, as if expecting to be hit. "It's alright, little chap, I'm not going to hurt you," he coaxed, reaching out to stroke the puppy's head. The hair felt incredibly soft and silky, and for a moment, he thought of the pathetically few occasions on which he had stroked Tsuzuki's hair. The puppy snuggled down on Tatsumi's lap, its tail giving a rhythmic thump-thump-thump against the side of his leg.
"That's better, isn't it?" Tatsumi petted the puppy's head gently and rubbed behind its ears. The little dog lifted its head and looked at him. Those huge dark eyes still seemed to contain a bottomless sadness within their depths, and Tatsumi felt a lump forming in his throat. This puppy was reminding him of Tsuzuki. He hugged the small creature, and, so emotionally drained that he was past caring what anyone thought of him now, he lightly kissed the puppy on the top of the head.
The response was immediate. Tatsumi suddenly found his mouth, his nose, his spectacles and anything else within reach under assault from an enthusiastically licky tongue.
"Now, now," he reprimanded, mock-sternly, "If you damage my spectacles I will have you pay for them out of your salary." He immediately winced at his own words. He was addressing the puppy as though he was talking to Tsuzuki. He dimly wondered if perhaps he should have considered Watari's suggestion that he seek bereavement counselling. Then he looked more closely at the puppy. It was cowering again, but wagging its tail apologetically, giving him just the same sort of look that Tsuzuki would have in that situation. He studied the puppy's eyes, and felt a shock run through him when he realised their colour. They weren't dark brown at all, as he had first supposed. They were a deep shade of violet.
"Tsuzuki?" he said, hoarsely.
The puppy promptly leapt into his arms and began slobbering him excitedly, tail wagging frantically. Tatsumi took a deep breath, because he knew he was going to cry if he didn't forcibly control himself.
"I see you have accepted your assignment, then, Tatsumi-san."
Tatsumi sat bolt upright, shocked back into a state of near-normality by the sound of Enma's voice. "What..." he began, unsure that he could form a coherent and halfway intelligent sentence right now.
"Due to the extensive damage to his body and the currently weak state of his soul, he will be unable to return to a human form until he is well and mentally stable enough for his powers to re-assert themselves. I trust that you will NOT fail me this time, Tatsumi-san, and that Kurosaki-san will also prove worthy of my trust. Both of you are to protect Tsuzuki-san and make absolutely sure that he does not slide back into insanity. I will NOT tolerate the loss of EnMaCho's most powerful shinigami. Do you understand?"
"I understand, My Lord, and you have my word that we will not let you down." Tatsumi politely bowed to Enma-Daioh, and gladly scooped up the excitable puppy into his arms.
The moment he was outside of the building, he looked around to ascertain that no-one was within sight or earshot, then knelt down, hugging the puppy tightly, and finally allowed himself to cry. With a little whimper, Tsuzuki-puppy nuzzled into his face and began to lick his tears away.
"Tsuzuki-san, welcome back," whispered Tatsumi, hoarsely, snuggling the puppy close to his chest.
When Tatsumi finally felt able to pull himself together, he looked the puppy straight in the eyes, and announced: "I am taking you straight over to the infirmary to see Kurosaki-san. He's very ill, but I am sure that having you there will help him towards a speedy recovery." The puppy squirmed and wriggled enthusiastically, wagging his tail so hard that his whole rear end wagged with it.
Suddenly, Tatsumi felt something hot and wet seeping through his suit, and groaned. "Tsuzuki-san, I hope you realise that the dry-cleaning costs will be deducted from your salary."
And with that, both shadowmaster and puppy shimmered and faded into the air, heading for the infirmary.
===
Italics denote either a flashback or Enma-Daioh speaking. Hopefully it'll be clear which is which!
Many thanks to Penny, my beta and best friend!
Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei and its characters are the property of Matsushita Yoko. Formatting errors, however, are mine, all mine!
------------------
The Caretaker
------------------
Had it not been for Kurosaki Hisoka's remarkable regenerative abilities, Tatsumi's shadow would have held not one but two pitiful corpses, rescued from the black inferno only moments before Shion Dai exploded.
===
"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-san," whispered Tatsumi, lowering his head.
His words faded into the silence of the infirmary ward, their truth holding no power to change the past or offer any consolation in the present.
Folding his hands neatly in his lap, the secretary continued to talk in the same low, steady tone: "I am afraid it is unlikely that we will be able to give him a proper funeral, but we will at least hold a wake and pay our respects." He paused for a moment, straightening his tie and adjusting his spectacles for what was probably the tenth time in the last five minutes. Was it right to be discussing this with the unconscious boy? Would the words impede his recovery or would they convince him that there was still something worth fighting for?
===
"Heartless bastard!" hissed Watari, glaring right through Enma-Daioh's hapless messenger as if this would somehow convey his sentiments beyond the minion and directly to the Lord of Meifu himself.
Tatsumi stood as though turned to stone. Numb with grief, he was aware that Enma-Daioh had given orders that Tsuzuki-san's body be brought to him immediately but the messenger's words failed to connect with his brain in any meaningful way.
"And if I refuse?" he heard himself saying. As though acting of their own accord, his arms folded themselves defiantly across his chest.
"Then my master will come for him."
"Very well, then." Mechanically, Tatsumi knelt down to where Tsuzuki's body lay, carefully wrapped in an insulated blanked to prevent the unnaturally high temperature of his remains from accidentally incinerating anything. Gingerly, he lifted his former partner and was taken aback by the warmth and lightness of his body. He held the bundle gently but firmly in his arms, and stared in blank silence back towards Shion Dai, watching dark figures scurry about their business, silhouetted against the distant but still fierce glow of the fire before fading from view into the smoky night air. With Tsuzuki so warm against his chest, Tatsumi found it hard to accept that any of this was real.
"Tsuzuki-san," he said, levelly, "I hope you understand that all this..." he nodded towards the smouldering building "will have to be deducted from your salary." He looked down at the shimmering silvery form in his arms and almost choked, a spasm of grief wracking his body.
No. If he allowed himself to accept that what he held was a heat-resistant body-bag, he would not be able to go through with this. He owed it to Tsuzuki to dissuade Enma-Daioh from doing anything other than letting the troubled shinigami rest in peace.
Tatsumi turned slowly to face the young messenger, and took a step towards him.
"We are ready to accompany you," he said, with a quiet determination.
===
The quiet of the infirmary was disturbed by a bleep from the fax machine.
"You will be pleased to know that Terazuma-san and Kannuki-san have agreed to handle any cases in Kyushu for the time being," said Tatsumi, almost conversationally, as he retrieved the fax. He greatly doubted that Hisoka was in any state to have an opinion one way or the other on how the workload was being handled in his absence, but it was somehow reassuring to keep the Shokan division operating efficiently during a time of crisis. With help from Watari, he had set up a temporary workstation in one corner of the infirmary so that he would be able keep abreast of the work and stay with the young empath around the clock.
"Ah, this is the summons I was expecting from Enma-Daioh-sama," he remarked, trying to keep the his tone neutral and his silent rage shielded. "He has confirmed that he wishes me to appear before him at nine o' clock tomorrow morning. Kurosaki-san, if it is within my powers, I will retrieve Tsuzuki-san so that we may find a peaceful resting place for him."
There was no response from the bandage-clad shinigami, who had remained silent and motionless for six days now. Tatsumi refused to believe that things were hopeless, despite Watari's assertions that Kurosaki-san was no nearer to healing than he had been when they first brought him to the hospital. The skin grafts should have taken by now, but the young shinigami's body remained a mass of festering sores and flesh that more closely resembled melted, distorted wax than anything human. There had been no change in his condition, no indication that he was any closer to regaining consciousness.
"It's as though he doesn't want to get better," Watari had observed, grimly. "As I'm sure you know, shinigami healing powers come as much from the will of the mind as from the body."
Tatsumi reached over to his in-tray and lifted a small stack of already-sorted paperwork, which he proceeded to check through for the third time that day, tapping the stack against the desk when he had finished, to ensure that they formed a neat pile. The ritual offered him a few moments of distraction and a transient sense of rightness, but did little to quell either the overwhelming sense of emptiness or the despair, guilt and self-disgust that seeped through him.
"Tsuzuki-san... With your death, please break me..."
Tatsumi understood that he, himself, deserved to be broken for failing Tsuzuki, but he had never meant for others to break, too.
Rising from his chair, he walked slowly over to where Hisoka lay unconscious, and sat down on the bed next to his.
"Kurosaki-san," he said quietly, reaching out to take one limp, bandaged hand in his, "Please remember that I am here for you."
===
"Tatsumi Seiichirou, I am sure that you are well aware that you have failed in one of your important duties as a shinigami."
The shadowmaster remained silent When he had brought Tsuzuki here seven days previously, he had been informed that Enma-Daioh had important issues to discuss with him at a later date, and had been half-expecting this. For his own part, he saw no point in pleading for leniency, but his own feelings were not the issue here.
"Tatsumi-san, have you nothing to say?"
Tatsumi bristled at the cool superiority and the hint of mockery in Enma-Daioh's tone.
"My Lord, I am not here to plead my own case. I am prepared to accept whatever sentence you see fit to pass on me. I came here today to ask that Tsuzuki-san's soul be allowed to rest in peace and that his body be returned to the Shokan division."
Enma's laughter filled the room, an ugly, unnatural sound, echoing hollowly through the screen that separated his domain from that of lesser immortals.
"I would appreciate it if you would answer my question, My Lord," said Tatsumi, coldly.
"I am not obliged to answer any of your questions, Tatsumi-san. Are you aware of why I appointed you as a shinigami?"
Tatsumi's shadows twitched, extending slowly towards the screen, only to be met with a contemptuous sneer and banished by a flash of blinding light.
"Such a petulant display of temper, Tatsumi-kun. I am well aware of your capacity as a kagetsukai. Do you know the other reason I appointed you?"
Tatsumi remained silent. He had no wish to discuss his own affairs, as those were of no consequence in the current situation.
"Very well, if you do not wish to answer me, I can end our conversation here and now, and remove you as a shinigami."
Tatsumi adjusted his spectacles, and composed himself. "I was not aware that you had a second reason for appointing me, My Lord," he said, eventually.
"There was little cause to tell you, as you seemed willing to fulfil the role anyway, albeit rather incompetently."
The insult stung and infuriated Tatsumi, but he refused to rise to the bait and risk jeopardizing his mission.
"Perhaps you could tell me what this role was, My Lord?" he replied, with frosty civility.
"I think you need to convince me that I did not totally misplace my faith in you before I can answer that."
Tatsumi's spectacles were beginning to steam up with his annoyance, but he maintained a calm and polite tone. "And how may I best do that?"
Enma snorted. "Admit your own hypocrisy, Tatsumi-san."
The shadowmaster drew in a deep breath and wondered when Enma-Daioh was going to get to the point of this inquisition. "If it so pleases you, could you elaborate, My Lord?" he replied, his tone almost dripping contempt.
"Your real desire is not that Tsuzuki-san's soul be left to rest in peace, is it, Tatsumi-san?"
"What possible business of yours is that?"
Tatsumi's enraged words only provoked a peal of derisive laughter from the Lord of Meifu.
"Can you honestly tell me, Tatsumi-san, that you do not regret his death, that you do not wish that he was still with you?"
The question hurt, and Tatsumi paused for a moment before answering: "I only wish for Tsuzuki-san's happiness, My Lord."
"So, Tatsumi-san, can I take it as your final answer that you would rather that Tsuzuki-san was able to rest in peace than that he was with you now, as your colleague and friend?"
Crumbling inwardly, Tatsumi agonized over the answer he should give. Did he truly want what was best for Tsuzuki, or....
"If you answer untruthfully, Tatsumi-san, I will have no choice but to ascend you here and now."
The shadowmaster cared little for his own life or his future as a shinigami at that moment, but the awareness that he would be unable to do anything for Tsuzuki if he was sent on pushed him towards self-preservation.
"For Tsuzuki-san's sake, I would like him to rest peacefully; for my own sake, I wish he could be with me as more than just a memory." Tatsumi's throat was dry, and his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.
"So you admit to your own hypocrisy, do you, Tatsumi-san? Do you admit that despite your claims to want Tsuzuki-san's soul to rest in peace, you would not turn him away if he could be with you now, even despite the fact that you have failed him repeatedly?"
Tatsumi buried his face in his hands and couldn't bring himself to speak for a few moments. The pain in his chest, which had been slowly building at Enma-Daioh's words was now becoming unbearable. "Tsuzuki-san, please forgive me," he whispered, the sorry remains of his integrity and self-esteem shattering into myriad shards, each one piercing his soul. Was he about to betray the very man he had been trying to save?
"Your answer please, Tatsumi-san." Enma's tone was cold, dispassionate, the voice of a being who cared nothing about the insignificant feelings of a mere shinigami and everything about using them for his own purposes.
"Yes, My Lord, I admit it," muttered Tatsumi, now a broken man awaiting punishment for his sins.
"Very well then, I shall tell you. I appointed you as his caretaker."
Tatsumi swallowed hard and took a step backwards to lean against the wall of the narrow room. He had been unprepared for this revelation and for the rush of emotion that he felt upon hearing it. The suppressed grief welled up within him and he would have given anything to be able to go back in time and muster the strength needed to protect and stand by Tsuzuki when he most needed him. But no, he, Tatsumi Seiichirou had been unable to help those who had mattered to him the most. He had been weak in the face of distress and insanity when he should have been a pillar of strength.
"I do not expect my minions to fail me in their duties – particularly not where it concerns Meifu's most powerful shinigami. Do not misunderstand me, Tatsumi-san – I care nothing for his or your happiness. What concerns me is that he has a long history of insanity and that I appointed you to help stabilize him."
Recoiling in disgust at Enma-Daioh's lack of humanity, Tatsumi felt sick to the pit of his stomach. He had always known that the Lord of Meifu considered shinigami to be mere pawns in the grand scheme of things, but in the face of his own personal grief and guilt, these unfeeling words were crushing. One of the things that had made Tsuzuki so special was his boundless ability to care and love, and without that warmth, Meifu would have been a cold and desolate place for himself and his colleagues.
Tatsumi took a deep breath, steadied himself and approached the screen again. He knew that Enma-Daioh would hardly waste time by summoning him here purely so that he could torture him.
"What is it that you want from me?" he demanded, unable to muster his usual civility. The words would have choked him.
"I believe you are forgetting your manners, Tatsumi-san."
Tatsumi clenched his teeth and put one hand to his temple as if to ward off the impending headache. "What do you want from me, Enma-Daioh-sama?" he hissed, enunciating every syllable with utter distaste.
"I have an important assignment for you, and this time failure will NOT be tolerated."
A pitiful surge of hope pulsed through Tatsumi, but he did everything he could to quash it. To get his hopes up now only to have them dashed again would almost certainly break him.
"What is this assignment, My Lord?" he inquired, his voice devoid of the emotions that raged within him.
"What business is that of yours until you have agreed to it, Tatsumi-san?"
The secretary's headache was beginning to get the better of him, and he contemplated his options. If he rejected Enma-Daioh's assignment, he would almost certainly be ascended, and he would have made no further progress in securing even a glimmer of hope for Tsuzuki's broken and battered soul.
"Very well, My Lord, I accept."
Tatsumi waited impatiently for Enma-Daioh to answer, and was discomfited by the silence which followed.
"May I ask what my assignment is?"
Silence.
"Am I to take care of and guide Kurosaki-san?" This was the most hopeful task that he could imagine might be assigned to him, and one which he would carry out gladly. His words, however, were met by a snort of laughter.
"Tatsumi-san, do you really think that YOU are the person he needs?"
"Perhaps not, but since the one he needs is no longer with us, I promised myself that I will take care of him."
There was a slight disturbance of the air around Tatsumi's ankles, and he looked down to see what had materialized there. Completely bemused, Tatsumi rubbed his eyes, blinked, and pushed his spectacles back up his nose. He wasn't imagining things. At his feet sat a small white puppy, gazing up at him with big, sorrowful and pleading eyes.
Tatsumi knelt down and cautiously extended a hand towards the creature. The puppy whimpered and cowered, as if expecting to be hit. "It's alright, little chap, I'm not going to hurt you," he coaxed, reaching out to stroke the puppy's head. The hair felt incredibly soft and silky, and for a moment, he thought of the pathetically few occasions on which he had stroked Tsuzuki's hair. The puppy snuggled down on Tatsumi's lap, its tail giving a rhythmic thump-thump-thump against the side of his leg.
"That's better, isn't it?" Tatsumi petted the puppy's head gently and rubbed behind its ears. The little dog lifted its head and looked at him. Those huge dark eyes still seemed to contain a bottomless sadness within their depths, and Tatsumi felt a lump forming in his throat. This puppy was reminding him of Tsuzuki. He hugged the small creature, and, so emotionally drained that he was past caring what anyone thought of him now, he lightly kissed the puppy on the top of the head.
The response was immediate. Tatsumi suddenly found his mouth, his nose, his spectacles and anything else within reach under assault from an enthusiastically licky tongue.
"Now, now," he reprimanded, mock-sternly, "If you damage my spectacles I will have you pay for them out of your salary." He immediately winced at his own words. He was addressing the puppy as though he was talking to Tsuzuki. He dimly wondered if perhaps he should have considered Watari's suggestion that he seek bereavement counselling. Then he looked more closely at the puppy. It was cowering again, but wagging its tail apologetically, giving him just the same sort of look that Tsuzuki would have in that situation. He studied the puppy's eyes, and felt a shock run through him when he realised their colour. They weren't dark brown at all, as he had first supposed. They were a deep shade of violet.
"Tsuzuki?" he said, hoarsely.
The puppy promptly leapt into his arms and began slobbering him excitedly, tail wagging frantically. Tatsumi took a deep breath, because he knew he was going to cry if he didn't forcibly control himself.
"I see you have accepted your assignment, then, Tatsumi-san."
Tatsumi sat bolt upright, shocked back into a state of near-normality by the sound of Enma's voice. "What..." he began, unsure that he could form a coherent and halfway intelligent sentence right now.
"Due to the extensive damage to his body and the currently weak state of his soul, he will be unable to return to a human form until he is well and mentally stable enough for his powers to re-assert themselves. I trust that you will NOT fail me this time, Tatsumi-san, and that Kurosaki-san will also prove worthy of my trust. Both of you are to protect Tsuzuki-san and make absolutely sure that he does not slide back into insanity. I will NOT tolerate the loss of EnMaCho's most powerful shinigami. Do you understand?"
"I understand, My Lord, and you have my word that we will not let you down." Tatsumi politely bowed to Enma-Daioh, and gladly scooped up the excitable puppy into his arms.
The moment he was outside of the building, he looked around to ascertain that no-one was within sight or earshot, then knelt down, hugging the puppy tightly, and finally allowed himself to cry. With a little whimper, Tsuzuki-puppy nuzzled into his face and began to lick his tears away.
"Tsuzuki-san, welcome back," whispered Tatsumi, hoarsely, snuggling the puppy close to his chest.
When Tatsumi finally felt able to pull himself together, he looked the puppy straight in the eyes, and announced: "I am taking you straight over to the infirmary to see Kurosaki-san. He's very ill, but I am sure that having you there will help him towards a speedy recovery." The puppy squirmed and wriggled enthusiastically, wagging his tail so hard that his whole rear end wagged with it.
Suddenly, Tatsumi felt something hot and wet seeping through his suit, and groaned. "Tsuzuki-san, I hope you realise that the dry-cleaning costs will be deducted from your salary."
And with that, both shadowmaster and puppy shimmered and faded into the air, heading for the infirmary.
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