Mystery Illness

Author: Trans

Pairing: WatarixTatsumi

Warning: Not really sure yet. Yaoi of course, and hopefully some hanky-panky at some point. A tad of angst never hurts…

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei  although I DO have my very own Watari plushie.

AN:I haven't written much for this fandom, and I'm not really used to the characters yet. I hope to fix that. I'm not sure where this story is really going besides a vague plot. But that's better than nothing right!

Chapter 1

Tatsumi wasn't sure why he was staring at the clock on the wall with slight agitation again. Frustrated he straightened and attempted to turn back to his work, only to stop a few seconds later, turning to look at the time again. Something about his day just felt off…he didn't know what exactly. Lets see, he'd come early as usual, had his standard number of cups of coffee, and he even managed to get ahead in his paperwork. He should have been more than happy even if Tsuzuki had been in later than usual-- why was he so uneasy?

Tsuzuki ate all the donuts in the break room before Terazuma got one, and Hisoka in the regular fit of irritation at his lazy partner not getting any work done, had interrupted the fight with a heavy book and cross warnings. Wakaba had brought muffins into the office and Terazuma was pacified. In fact Tatsumi had tried a muffin himself, blueberry, and it had tasted excellent.

By mid-afternoon Tsuzuki had convinced Hisoka to come have lunch with him, and the boy had actually gone, grumbling and blushing the whole way out the door. After lunch Tatsumi assigned Terazuma and Wakaba a case. He'd even delivered his usual lecture on expenses and work ethic when the shinigamis of district two came back late from lunch, Tsuzuki laden with sweets from a new dessert shop. Hisoka had promptly started reading, his papers already done for the day.

Tatsumi frowned. He'd stayed in his office since then, working on his own paper work, but he felt unnerved. It had been a seemingly normal day, a bit nicer than usual in fact, so why--

Tatsumi stared at the report he'd picked up, and then his eyes shot to the clock again. That was it! There was a certain someone he hadn't seen the entire day. He set down the report from the blonde's last mission. Watari, although attached to his lab, made a point of showing his face during breaks, to check in with his friends. Of course, if his presence wasn't seen by lunchtime… it was an instant red flag. The scientist would have been working all day on some damned potion, one that was probably completely useless, and then, Tatsumi glared at the clock, well and then by around flour-ish…it would blow up.

It was well passed four now, nearly everyone had gone home, with the exception of the secretary himself. Tatsumi realized that he had been so used to the predictable pattern he'd subconsciously started to become paranoid when he'd not heard the expected explosion. It was close to nine now…

It could mean something had happened, or that, perhaps Watari had been successful for once…and had already headed home. Tatsumi wasn't sure which thought he preferred. Anything to survive the regular spontaneous combustions always showed up in the office coffee the next morning.

"Maybe I should…," Tatsumi sighed and pushed his slipping glasses back into place. He could go check to see if Watari was still in his lab…if not then he might be able to gauge what sort of danger to be expecting the next morning.

Shuffling the papers on his desk into somewhat organized stacks, he tipped himself from his chair. His spine cracked a few times in protest, and Tatsumi made a stretch towards the ceiling, cringing at the soreness of his muscles. He would take a hot shower when he got home to help ease it away. He was well used to sore muscles from being hunched over his desk all day.

Shifting his jacket and tie to make sure his crisp appearance was intact, he stepped out of his office and made an immediate right down the hall. Watari's rented lab was clear on the other side of the building, a bit of a trek, where the least damage might occur in an explosion. However, Tatsumi mused, it never seemed to stop the blonde from getting enough visitors. It was just a certain quality Watari had to make friends with anyone. He was always happy to entertain, or listen to his coworkers problems. This instant repore and smile, drew people to him. Not to mention--

Tatsumi shook his head before the thought even formed. The halls were dark now, all the offices he passed empty. As usual he made sweeps with his eyes to make sure none of the lights were on, no one wasting the division's electricity. Rounding a second corner, Tatsumi stopped in front of the large doors to Watari's lab. Opening one, he braced himself for the waft of chemical smells that accompanied an entrance during one of the other Shinigami's experiments. Surprisingly, the air was only that of diluted bleach and freshly brewed tea.

Tight-lipped, Tatsumi stepped hesitantly into the lab. His eyes instantly drew to the man slumped against a far lab station. Watari was seated on a stool, his arms crossed on the edge of the table, his head pressed to said arms. Hair, unbound, cascaded over his shoulders and back, muffling the words he was speaking. If it weren't for the frustrated voice, he would have thought Watari had fallen asleep.

"Please just eat it…you stubborn owl," Watari poked at the dead dormouse on the counter without even having to look up. On the table, looking distinctly ruffled, was a small ball of feathers. 003 hooted reproachfully. "Don't give me that, you haven't eaten at all!"

"HOOT! Hoot, Hoot!"

"Say one more word and I'll--"

Cough. Cough. Tatsumi cleared his throat, not sure how long this conversation would go on. Although it was a regular occurrence for Watari to carry on conversations with the pint-sized owl as though it, he meant she (he'd made that mistake before and didn't want a repeat offence), could talk like any human, Tatsumi believed it was just another eccentric way for Watari to voice his thoughts. Clearly hoots of varying length couldn't be translated into anything substantial, and that thought in mind, Tatsumi wasn't going to wait for an imaginary conversation to finish before interrupting.

003 looked at him with round, yellow reproachful eyes --a hue close to the blonde's. She didn't look happy in the least. Watari took a bit longer to turn his head over his arms, eyes peeking, surprised, through long curls. "Tatsumi?" he asked, voice extremely tired.

It was clear that Watari had not been working on any potions today, but now Tatsumi wasn't sure what to say. "Watari-san, is everything alright?" he asked politely, eyeing his quite pitiful posture.

Sighing, Watari straightened himself, turning to look at him directly. Tatsumi could see that he was a little paler than usual now. It was strange, he hadn't seen Watari in anything other than his usual cheerful mood, at least not in a long while. It was rare, and not something Tatsumi found himself enjoying the sight of. Somehow those lips didn't look right in a frown.

"003 is just a little under the weather. She's refused to accept any treatment, and she won't eat!" Raking a hand through his tangled mass of hair, he poked at the limp mouse again pointedly. "EAT. NOW! Or I swear I'll force it down your throat, Missy!" She locked eyes with him morosely, and the two had a long staring contest. It was obvious that Watari had lost, when he let his head slump to the table-top with a dull 'thump'.

Tatsumi wasn't sure if he should be worried by this display or chuckle. He settled on being uncomfortable, steeling his expression into a polite blank. "How long has she been sick?"

Watari rubbed his eyes with his fists, "Long enough that I'm worried."

Tatsumi thought on this one. When was the last time the owl had been sick? He couldn't even recall a time the ball of feathers hadn't been sailing around after the bubbly scientist. He'd never thought of the possibility before now. Which was stupid of course. Animals could get sick, and a thirty-year old owl…were owls even supposed to live that long? At a loss, and just realizing he'd never asked before, he decided now wasn't the time.

"Perhaps it is just a cold," he stated, shifting his glasses over his nose. Watari looked utterly miserable, and it was making Tatsumi all the more uncomfortable. He'd never been faced with the situation before. It wasn't quite like when Tsuzuki got into a funk, but it was just as disturbing. Watari looked tired and worn out. He was more concerned with the man than the bird. "Look, perhaps you should just let her rest for tonight, and get a good sleep yourself. She might feel better in the morning Watari-san."

Nodding numbly, Watari stood up slowly, and Tatsumi noticed, somewhat shakily. He looked sick himself. Leave it to the man to worry himself sick over a bird, but then again, he knew how important she was to him. Gathering the lethargic 003 in his hands, he tucked her in the low collar of his lab coat, snuggling her under his chin. She hooted ruefully. "Yeah. Yeah. Sleep," he said, but Tatsumi wasn't sure if he was speaking to the owl or him.

Giving a smile that was at a much smaller scale than his usual grandiose ones, Watari muttered a good night, and teleported directly from the lab. "Well that was…" Abrupt? Tatsumi hadn't even gotten a chance to bid him good night. He had expected Watari to walk out of the building with him like they did on the occasions that Watari stayed as late as he did.

It wasn't a regular occurrence. But it was a nice change, the amiable company, making the aches in his back and hand less annoying. Watari must have felt very tired to teleport directly to his apartment. Well, it was a waste of time to dwell too much on it. He still had some paperwork to finish before heading home. He would just wait until tomorrow, he thought, and check-up on Watari then.