Title: Lead Not Into Temptation
Summary: Muraki proposes an idea to Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki is more tempted than he wants to be. (MurTsu, TsuHi)
Warnings: References to non-consensual sex. Kidnapping. Violence. Language.
Notes: Surprisingly enough, this is my Valentine's Day story. So. Um. Happy Valentine's Day? Heh. And let's just say that Tsuzuki did not want to work with me on this story. (And Muraki was trying to make me change the story, and Hisoka was trying to distract me from it. Argh.) Oh, and please read this: this story is written out of order. My muses insisted on it. It's stylistic. So please don't review to tell me that, 'cause I already know. Many thanks to my dear beta Ryver-chan, who was so helpful in assisting me when I was stuch and dealing with my whining. Thank you!Anyway, I hope you allenjoy it! And have a happy Valentine's Day!
Oh, and on another note: I hate you, Fanfiction dot Net, and your stupid Quick Edit system. There is nothing more annoying than having to go through the fic and replace all the diologue punctuation. ARGH.
Disclaimer: The actual author of Yami no Matsuei already puts Tsuzuki through this much torment. They really don't need me adding to it in canon as well as fanon. So though I would love to own me some Yami no Matsuei, I sadly do not.
Lead Not Into Temptation
v. gone
When he came back to the room, fearful and tense and preparing for the worst, he wasn't prepared.
A drinking glass had been shattered against the wall. A lamp was knocked over. The door was hanging ajar.
On the bloodstained sheets of the bed, a red rose lay beside a sheet of paper. An address.
His sweater was crumpled in a puddle of blood on the floor, forgotten.
Hisoka was gone.
ii. valentine's day
Tsuzuki Asato was not one known for his patience. He was known for many other things: his power, his cheerfulness and his love for sugar, to name a few. Hisoka would probably tack on gluttony, laziness and stupidity, but Tsuzuki was the one thinking and he got to decide which traits he was known for, so long as he didn't get close enough for Hisoka to read his mind. But both Shinigami would agree that of the many things Tsuzuki was known for, patience wasn't one of them. If he wanted something, he would go get it, or fret and fidget until he could.
And dammit, he wanted an iced cookie.
They looked so good when he and Hisoka had passed by them in the store window on their way to another investigation. Valentine's Day was coming up and the heart-shaped cookies were decorated with red icing and pink and white sprinkles, designed to lure young girls into buying them for their significant others. They'd be back again in a month for White Day, Tsuzuki knew, and he would want one then, too.
"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka snapped, tugging at his shirt jacket. Tsuzuki abruptly realized he had been standing in front of the store window staring at the cookies blankly. "Stop being an idiot and let's go!"
"But the cookies, Hisoka," Tsuzuki pleaded.
"No."
"But!"
"No," Hisoka repeated, looking exasperated. "We don't have any money, for one, and Tatsumi-san said to make sure this is only a one-day case!"
"Look at the cookies, Hisoka," instructed Tsuzuki, turning his best pleading eyes onto his partner. Even after two years, Hisoka was not immune to the application of two wide purple eyes and he irritably obeyed. The cookies continued to look good to Tsuzuki and he was convinced that Hisoka had to see the delicious qualities of the treats.
"They look disgusting."
Okay. Or not.
"They look so good, Hisoka!" Tsuzuki said. "See? They have frosting and sprinkles and they're only sold for Valentine's Day and-"
"I see them, Tsuzuki, and they look like a mound of sugar," Hisoka interrupted. Sighing, the green-eyed boy looked down the street, as if wishing that they could be on their way already. He looked back at Tsuzuki and said, "Could we just go? It's not that far to the hospital and this shouldn't take that lo"
"I know!" Tsuzuki proclaimed, for all appearances ignoring Hisoka.
"You know what?" asked Hisoka, a familiar tick beginning under one of his eyes. It was a clear sign that his nerves were fraying.
"I'll buy you the cookie for Valentine's Day!" Tsuzuki declared as he grabbed Hisoka by the shoulders, grinning with pride for his own brilliance.
Hisoka scowled. "I don't want a cookie, Tsuzuki!"
"You can give it to me."
"Then why not just buy it for yourself?" asked Hisoka. He then blinked, frowned even more heartily and added"No! I mean - you're not getting a cookie; we have to go"
"I want to buy you a cookie for Valentine's Day," Tsuzuki said, pouting.
"Only girls buy things on Valentine's Day, Tsuzuki," Hisoka reminded him, clearly debating whether or not he should continue arguing with a man so dead-set on buying a cookie. "Boys buy things on White Day."
"But-"
"I'll buy you that cookie for White Day, okay?" Hisoka said, giving up and physically dragging Tsuzuki away from the shop window. "Just shut up about it and I'll get you the stupid cookie."
Tsuzuki stopped protesting being dragged away and walked even with Hisoka. He smiled down at his irritable partner. "Really? You'll buy me something for White Day?"
"I-" Hisoka began and suddenly seemed to realize what he just said. A bright red blush covered his cheeks and he looked away. "I didn't mean-"
"Sankyuu, 'Soka-chan!" Tsuzuki said, ruffling Hisoka's hair and darting away quickly before Hisoka could hit him. Over his shoulder he called, "Come on, we need to get to the hospital."
Tsuzuki heard a mumbled "Idiot," from Hisoka before the boy broke out of his blushing state and followed him. He grinned.
iv. realization
Tsuzuki had rarely been really angry before, except before, when Ruka-neechan had died and he had only seen her limp body on the ground before he had-
But he wasn't angry now. He was, but unlike with his beloved older sister, he was mad at himself more than anyone else, so mad that he wanted to punch a brick wall until it came crumbling down. Hisoka snapping at him played over and over in his mind. Tsuzuki kept seeing those beautiful green eyes remain calm and emotionless as Hisoka tossed the sweater back at him.
And then himself replying - and Hisoka's hurt expression, his hands shaking -
Tsuzuki appeared in Kaori's old hospital room, still unoccupied due to people claiming to see ghosts. A dainty female ghost with bleeding eyes, to be specific, which should have meant that he and Hisoka would have found Kaori easily and convinced her to let go of her body and ascend to the spirit world.
But she remained elusive.
Tsuzuki sat on an uncomfortable hospital chair by the window, staring out at the bright lights of Nagasaki below. He was going to work, then, if Hisoka was so angry about staying longer than "strictly necessary" to complete a case. Even if all he was doing was sitting and waiting for Kaori to appear, he was going to work.
Except he didn't.
He couldn't work when he knew he had hurt Hisoka's feelings, when he knew that Hisoka was upset because of something that he had said and done. Tsuzuki hated it when Hisoka was sad or scared or uncomfortable. It made him want to take the boy in his arms and hold him and hug him and tell him that it was okay. And he had, on occasion, when Hisoka was particularly distraught.
But Hisoka was stronger and needed to feel that way, and as was such, he could barely accept a hug from Tsuzuki. And Tsuzuki knew that if hugs were out of the question, then kisses... then anything else...
Hisoka didn't want a boyfriend, and Tsuzuki wanted Hisoka more than anything. And it hurt so much when they fought because it felt like Hisoka would never want him as more than a partner, as more than simply Tsuzuki, who was stupid and caring and liked sweets.
Tsuzuki rested his chin on his knees, his arms wrapped around his folded legs as he perched awkwardly on the chair. It was like this that he saw Kaori when she appeared, her straight black hair mussed and streaks of blood on her cheek and dress. She looked very sad and Tsuzuki tried not to think of Hisoka.
"You're Kaori," Tsuzuki stated, not wanting to scare the girl away. He wasn't sure what had brought her out, even. Maybe his sadness? She looked upset, too.
"He said he wanted you to come," she whispered, her brown eyes wide. She clutched at her dress, which was ripped and stained with red.
Tsuzuki unfolded his legs slowly, eyes narrowed. "He...?" he queried.
"He wanted you to come," she repeated.
A cold feeling began to make its way into Tsuzuki's stomach, gripping him and making him freeze where he sat.
"He said I could go when you did," Kaori said, and she smiled shakily at him. "I want to go now. You're here, and the pretty angel man said I could go when you did..."
Angel... Muraki...!
Tsuzuki felt terror creep over his body as he heard Kaori talk, waiting and ready to spring away should Muraki appear. But he did not.
Instead, Kaori gasped and began to fade. Quickly she vanished, her essence seeming to dissolve into feathery pink objects that appeared from nowhere and floated gently to the floor. Tsuzuki sat prone for a moment, unsure and startled, before he moved forward to see what was left of the dainty little spirit.
On the floor lay a handful of pretty pink petals, splattered in blood. Sakura petals...
Tsuzuki's eyes went wide.
i. assignment
"It shouldn't be more than a one-day case," Tatsumi was saying from across the table, a manila folder opened in front of him. There were a few pictures and a couple sheets of paper, one of which Hisoka was skimming, green eyes darting back and forth across the page.
Tsuzuki grabbed one of the pictures and saw a bright-eyed little girl smiling back at him, her straight black hair pulled into pigtails. Her name was Kaori and she was eight, and just yesterday she had died but her soul was missing.
"Are there anything else we should be aware of?" Hisoka asked, glancing up at Tatsumi. Tsuzuki continued looking at the picture. Her eyes were pretty, like Hisoka's. Tsuzuki was sad she had died before someone else could realize how pretty her eyes were.
"Well," Tatsumi began, "there have been many deaths like hers recently. At least five in the past week, all murders with seemingly no connection. But Kaori's is the first one whose soul has been missing, though none of them seem to know who killed them. Orders are to leave the rest of the murders to the police and focus on finding Kaori's soul. In all likelihood, her soul is just hiding out in the hospital where she died."
"I bet she's scared," Tsuzuki murmured. He set down the picture before he saw too much of Hisoka in little Kaori. But someone had noticed that Hisoka's eyes were pretty, with disastrous results. Tsuzuki wished it had never happened.
Even though it had given him the chance to notice Hisoka's eyes.
Hisoka was giving him a concerned look, apparently feeling the mixed apprehension and sadness from Tsuzuki, and Tsuzuki immediately broke off his chain of thought.
"Well, let's go!" Tsuzuki said, snatching the folder from Tatsumi and tossing the picture in. He grinned at Hisoka. "The sooner we get to Chijou, the sooner we can figure it out"
"Yeah," Hisoka said, frowning though he decided against inquiring. He repeated, "Let's go."
iii. fight
A grand total of five hours, thirty-two minutes and about twelve seconds in the hospital yielded little information and even less disappearing souls.
Kaori's soul, it seemed, had vanished, even to the eyes of two experienced Shinigami. What made matters worse was that she was clearly not gone; reports of a dark-haired ghost had been circulating throughout the hospital, leaving the staff frightened and the helpless patients terrified. Kaori's old room was left unused, after three patients and a nurse had seen the bloody-eyed ghost on four separate occasions.
However, despite their efforts, Tsuzuki and Hisoka were unable to locate the girl's soul, who seemed so eager to show herself to others. To top it off, the constant barrage of intense emotions - of despair, longing, sadness, loneliness, pain - had grated on Hisoka's nerves, growing into an intense headache by the end of the day. By the time Tsuzuki had checked them into a cheap motel for the night, Hisoka was having trouble walking, the migraine pulsing increasingly more intense as his shields tried to maintain themselves despite the strain.
Tsuzuki told him to lie down and let him deal with calling Tatsumi, a suggestion that Hisoka readily complied with. As Hisoka rested flat-backed on the bed, eyes closed and breathing forced steady, Tsuzuki dialed up the number for Tatsumi - calling Meifu was always a tricky business, but Tsuzuki had known how to ever since he learned how to use a phone in the first place, so it came naturally - and when his old partner answered, Tsuzuki quickly and quietly told him the story.
To say that Tatsumi was irritated would be an understatement. He criticized Tsuzuki for spending more funds than necessary by not completing a simple case in the desired amount of time. Too often had Tsuzuki stretched his cases longer than predicted and spent too much of the firm's money. It was irritating to be yelled at for something he could not control - Kaori's soul hadn't appeared - but Tsuzuki accepted the complaints without getting angry. It wouldn't do to snap at Tatsumi now.
"Well, Tatsumi wasn't happy," Tsuzuki informed Hisoka, setting the phone down.
Hisoka made a vague noise of confirmation, not opening his eyes.
"It's not like it's our fault," Tsuzuki said, standing up and walking over to the mirror by the television. He began to sort through the jumbled case file that Hisoka had thrown on the counter. "I mean, Kaori didn't show up and we can't track her, so I-"
"Tsuzuki," hissed Hisoka from his position on the bed. "Would you please shut up? I get it."
Tsuzuki half-turned, frowning. He briefly felt upset that Hisoka had so bluntly told him off, but he tried his best to brush it aside. Hisoka did have a headache. "Sure," Tsuzuki said, turning around and looking back at the file. Kaori's face smiled up at him before he closed it.
Behind him, Hisoka had slowly gotten up, head still clutched tightly in his hands. Tsuzuki watched, perplexed that Hisoka was in too much pain to listen to him talk, but not enough to stay lying down. It was cleared up when Hisoka went to Tsuzuki's bag and pulled out a large sweater.
"Are you cold?" Tsuzuki asked.
"No," muttered Hisoka, pulling on the sweater. It made him look younger than he usually did, the neckline too big and the waistline going down to mid-thigh. It would have been adorable if Hisoka hadn't been glaring at the floor and clutching his head.
"Are you sure?" Tsuzuki asked, mildly teasing. "You did just put on my sweater - usually when someone puts on a sweater, it means they're cold."
"I'm fine," Hisoka said, going back to the bed to lie down.
"I could try and get the management to raise the heat-"
"I said that I'm fine, Tsuzuki," hissed Hisoka. "Please stop talking, it's really loud."
Tsuzuki frowned as he watched Hisoka lay on his side on the bed, head tucked into his sleeve-covered arms and resting partially on a pillow. It was a scene that would have usually made him smile if not for the fact that Hisoka had just finished snapping at him and was angry with him. Tsuzuki wasn't really feeling up to dealing with Hisoka's moods right then.
But it wasn't that big of a deal; Hisoka just had a headache and wanted to sleep it off. Tsuzuki had dealt with Hisoka being snappish before, though it was never pleasant, and he could work through it. He didn't want to get mad at Hisoka anyway.
In any case, it was the end of a rather long, exhausting day, and Tsuzuki wanted to call it a night as well. Granted, once he was finished getting ready for bed, he would have to get into the single bed with Hisoka, but hopefully by then the blond boy would be asleep. They could get through it with little difficulty. Maybe.
As it turned out, however, a gentle transition into sleep was not going to happen.
Tsuzuki didn't mean to let his shower case slip when he was pulling it out of his bag. It was a simple plastic case that had the misfortune of slipping from his fingers. It also had the further bad luck to wind up crashing against the wall, popping open and scattering its contents all over the floor. The resulting sound was sharp and out of place in the silence of the room. Tsuzuki winced.
"Tsuzuki...," muttered Hisoka, who wearily lifted his head to glare at his partner, looking very bitter. "I know you have issues with staying quiet, but could you please just try?"
"It wasn't my fault," Tsuzuki protested.
"Just - just stop," Hisoka said, holding up a hand and looking disbelieving. At least, that was how Tsuzuki interpreted the half-frowning, half-wincing expression on Hisoka's face.
"It wasn't my fault," defended Tsuzuki irritably. "And it's not my fault that we're staying in a hotel right now instead of being back in Meifu."
Hisoka gave him a quizzical look that was half-hidden by his arms. "I didn't say that," he said, quiet but defensive.
"Tatsumi did, and I know you probably agree with him," Tsuzuki muttered.
"Don't get mad at me because of what Tatsumi-san said to you," Hisoka replied. "Though I don't necessarily blame him."
Tsuzuki narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"Just that you have a habit of spending too much money," Hisoka said wearily. "And staying longer than strictly necessary to complete a case-"
"So you think that it was my fault, too?" Tsuzuki asked, unable to quench the rising anger in his chest. Part of him wanted Hisoka to yell back at him, like he had the last time Tsuzuki had gotten angry at him for blowing him off.
"Not this case, it wasn't," said Hisoka.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I-" Hisoka began, and then he frowned. "No, you know what? I don't want to get into this fight. I'm sick of talking about this and I want you to leave me alone."
For Tsuzuki, who was so used to Hisoka yelling at him when he was angry, this complete lack of anger was aggravating. Hisoka was supposed to get angry that Tsuzuki was making assumptions, and then he would have a reason to be snappy with Tsuzuki. And Tsuzuki didn't know why he couldn't just let it be, but the combination of Tatsumi yelling at him and Hisoka not caring was grating on his nerves.
And if he was perfectly honest, the fact that Hisoka didn't care enough to take his side hurt a little deeper than usual. Tsuzuki knew that he was attracted to Hisoka. He wanted to take the step that would turn them from partners into lovers, but it was hard to deal with those feelings, especially considering Hisoka's empathy. It was fairly likely that Hisoka could sense something was amiss. And if Hisoka knew about his feelings - which he probably did, Tsuzuki suspected, because the feelings were so strong and Tsuzuki had trouble hiding them at times , then he would know that Tsuzuki would accept him if Hisoka liked him back. Wouldn't he?
The emotions were all horribly confusing, and somehow all boiled down to a simple, irrational thought: if Hisoka cared about him, he'd take his side.
Or he'd at least get annoyed enough to yell. Tsuzuki's past experience with Hisoka had said so.
"Do you think I'm a bad partner, then?" Tsuzuki asked before he could stop himself, the words coming out of their own volition.
"Tsuzuki, I don't want to fucking talk about it, okay?" Hisoka said. "I don't want to fight with you right now."
"Fine," Tsuzuki snapped, surprising even himself with how irritable he was. But his resolve to let the dispute die down failed quickly and he said, "It's not like I try to be such a horrible partner or anything."
It seemed as though Hisoka's patience was beginning to snap; Hisoka hissed through clenched teeth and sat up, glaring at his partner from his position on the bed.
"Tsuzuki, have you ever had a migraine?" Hisoka asked, eyes narrowed.
This was not what Tsuzuki had been expecting.
"No, but I-"
"Then don't assume you know how I feel," snapped Hisoka. "Until you've had experience with such a headache, I suggest you go away and let me sleep without you bothering me."
It was amazing how much contempt Hisoka could throw into two sentences. After the initial shock at the abrupt change in the argument, Tsuzuki found himself getting even angrier. Hisoka didn't want him around? Fine. He could do that.
"Fine. I'm going to leave and let you sleep, then," Tsuzuki replied coolly. But if Hisoka could be snappish, then so could Tsuzuki. He added, "Give me my sweater back; it's cold outside."
There was a long moment of silence, where Tsuzuki cursed himself for saying such a blunt thing, despite wanting to elicit more of a reaction from Hisoka. He waited for Hisoka to get angry with him, to yell at him, which he knew should happen. But instead, Hisoka just stared at him with unreadable eyes for a moment before calmly removing the sweater and tossing it to him.
"Here," Hisoka said, face still expressionless. "Have it."
If Hisoka had yelled, had snapped, had done anything at all to show that he cared whether or not he could have the sweater, Tsuzuki would have been properly abashed and backed down. Somehow, the entire fight had dissolved, for Tsuzuki, into a way to see if Hisoka did care about him.
But Hisoka hadn't yelled or snapped at him. Instead, he had done everything in his power to make it clear that he didn't care what Tsuzuki did.
And Tsuzuki couldn't help the anger that welled up in him because of that.
"No, take it back," snarled Tsuzuki, throwing the sweater back at Hisoka. It hit the boy in the face and Hisoka leaned back, startled. Hisoka's eyes went wide with shock, turning swiftly into confusion and hurt. His small hands shook as he clutched at the sweater, though whether in anger or pain, Tsuzuki couldn't tell.
"I'll be back later," Tsuzuki said simply, unable to keep himself from sounding snide.
And he stormed out, wanting nothing more than to find a place where he could figure out what he had just done to his partnership.
Behind him, he heard the creak of the bedsprings as Hisoka lay down again and what sounded suspiciously like a sob.
vi. proposal
The address turned out to be for a hotel. It was a very fancy place, with clean, cream-colored walls and soft leather couches. Tsuzuki noticed it only in passing, his muscles tense as he walked in. This is where Muraki was, where the doctor had taken Hisoka, where he-
The paper included a room number: #446, a suite on the top floor. Tsuzuki stopped at the desk and told him the room number; she took it, checked it and smiled, informing Tsuzuki that he was expected and giving him a room key.
Tsuzuki seethed.
His nerves grew as he made his way up to the fourth floor, running up the stairs instead of taking the elevator to calm his rising agitation. But it was difficult not to worry and Tsuzuki thought he should, by all means, be terrified out of his mind at this point. Not only was this Muraki, whose obsession with him was disconcerting and eerie, but the doctor had abducted Hisoka, whom he had raped and killed. Tsuzuki did not doubt for a minute that Muraki would do it again.
Tsuzuki arrived in front of the room with his key in hand, trying desperately to soothe his breathing. In a burst of anger, startling even him with its immensity, Tsuzuki put the card-key in the slot and pulled it out again. The light turned green and Tsuzuki opened the door.
He froze after he took four steps and the beds came into view. His eyes were locked on the scene before him.
Muraki sat on the bed, as cool and confident as a mountain lion in his den, and he looked up at Tsuzuki with the most infuriating smirk Tsuzuki had ever seen. Between his legs knelt Hisoka, arms wrapped possessively around Muraki's knee and cheek lying on the doctor's thigh. Hisoka stared up at Tsuzuki with wide, blank eyes that reflected none of the usual intelligence or innocence that they usually did; instead, they were as empty and soulless as a dead man's.
Both of them were completely naked.
"I was wondering when you were going to show up, Tsuzuki-san," greeted Muraki pleasantly, as if this was simply an ordinary visit and not a hostage negotiation. As if he hadn't abducted Tsuzuki's partner and wasn't currently sitting with said partner, both naked as the day they were born.
Muraki seemed to notice Tsuzuki's hesitation and he deepened his smirk, adding, "I do hope you aren't too put off by our dress, Tsuzuki-san. I realize you haven't seen the boy or myself naked before, which is certainly unfortunate. I would have been most accommodating."
Muraki's leer shook Tsuzuki out of his shock and he opted to glower at Muraki, snapping, "Let Hisoka go." Almost as an afterthought, he continued, "I don't know what you're planning, but I'm not going to let you have Hisoka-"
"And what would you do if I didn't want to give the boy up?" Muraki asked curiously. He looked away from Tsuzuki and down at Hisoka, reaching a hand to pet the soft honey-blond hair on his head. "He is quite a pretty little doll, the most lovely of my collection..."
"Hisoka isn't a doll," snarled Tsuzuki, fists clenching. "And I can call down a Shikigami at any time to get him back."
"But that wouldn't work, Tsuzuki-san," Muraki said, looking back at Tsuzuki, his hand moving from Hisoka's hair to his pale shoulder. There were bloodstains on Hisoka's skin, Tsuzuki noticed, remnants from the injuries that had long since healed over. Hisoka didn't seem to notice anything.
"Why not?" Tsuzuki asked, though a little part of his mind was suggesting simply summoning one of his Shikigami now and taking Hisoka back. He wasn't sure if he could stand playing this game with Muraki, not today, not when Hisoka was naked and covered in dried blood and kneeling between Muraki's legs. And Muraki was slowly caressing Hisoka's bare shoulder, tracing over faint old scars with his nails, taunting Tsuzuki with his cruelty.
"Because, dear Tsuzuki-san," Muraki murmured, "the spell I've placed on the boy is a hypnosis tied strictly to me. Take him back by force if you so wish, I don't doubt you could, but all you would have is a beautiful doll, unable to do anything unless I tell him to."
Tsuzuki stared at Muraki in shock, though he was unable to stop his eyes from darting fearfully to Hisoka. The unmoving boy stared up at him with dull green eyes, not seeming to register Tsuzuki's presence at all as he hugged Muraki's calf. Hisoka's face was pale from blood loss, making him look even more emaciated, his skin as wan as porcelain.
"I want to offer you a proposal."
Tsuzuki stared for a moment longer before blinking and narrowing his eyes in suspicion. He knew well enough not to trust Muraki when the doctor discussed things like "deals" or "arrangements" or "proposals." They all seemed to involve unpleasant situations on his part.
But Tsuzuki was not in any position to ignore Muraki, who was still tracing the remnants of the curse he placed on Hisoka during their first encounter.
"What kind of... proposal?" Tsuzuki asked softly, knowing that leaving was not an option.
Muraki smiled secretively, glancing down at Hisoka. Light streamed from the bedside lamp and caught on his hair, which shimmered like gold.
"You love him, this boy," Muraki stated, a hint of irritation in his voice. Other than that faint hint, there was no outward sign of emotion, and Tsuzuki said nothing. Muraki continued, "But he doesn't love you back. He never will.
"He is not capable of love, Tsuzuki-san, not the kind you and I are talking about. He is nothing more than a doll whose experiences with love are scant and fleeting. You want to love him physically, with kisses and hugs, and he will never accept it. You want to love him romantically but he does not know what that is, and he will never allow it. He does not love you, Tsuzuki-san."
Tsuzuki hated that Muraki was right, but he couldn't help but feel all the coldness of Hisoka's actions lately congealing and coming together, a physical remembrance of how much Hisoka did not want to know him like that. As if Hisoka could feel Tsuzuki's love for him - which he likely could - and wanted to deny it immediately, to crush it before it destroyed them both.
"But you still want him," Muraki continued, staring at Tsuzuki, silver eyes meeting purple. "He's beautiful, isn't he? And you feel horrible and dirty, wanting him like that - wanting him to writhe and scream under you in pleasure - even though you know his past, even though he is so young, even though he won't agree. He is beautiful, a lovely unattainable vixen on a pedestal too high for you to reach.
"I can reach it for you, Tsuzuki-san."
Tsuzuki's breathing was getting harder to control. Was Muraki trying to suggest?
"You're attracted to me, too," Muraki said. His eyes were still locked on Tsuzuki's, mesmerizing and cool. "That we both know. And I want you. So I offer you a proposal - join me this one night."
Tsuzuki stared.
"Join me with the boy, and you'll get what you want. And I'll get what I want."
It was undeniably clear what Muraki was offering.
"He won't remember anything after, Tsuzuki-san," Muraki assured him delicately, his smile gentle and paternal now instead of smug. "I can even make it so that you don't remember, if you so wish. But he'll want you and let you, and you'll get to watch him scream in pleasure underneath you, which you'll never get if not for me.
"I know who you are, Tsuzuki-san," Muraki said. "I know your thoughts, your desires for the boy that you think are horrible and wrong, but I can give him to you this night, willing and ready." His voice lowered, still silky and gentle. "You want me, too, Tsuzuki-san. You can have both of us, together, and I can have you. The boy won't remember a thing."
Tsuzuki was horrified by Muraki's suggestion. He knew that it was wrong, horribly and disastrously wrong, the kind of wrong that hurt to think about, but at the same time-
He could feel his desire. He could feel the part of his brain that urged him to say yes to Muraki, to go to him and touch the man's bare skin and let it happen, because he knew Muraki wouldn't judge him for his feelings. There was an even stronger part of him that wanted to go and touch Hisoka, to see Hisoka underneath him, writhing and gasping, like in his dreams; a Hisoka who wouldn't yell at him or turn away, but kiss him and touch him, and let Tsuzuki touch him in return. To touch that soft skin, to run his fingers through the silky hair, to kiss those pink lips...
His desire sickened him, but Tsuzuki knew it was true.
Muraki waited.
And Tsuzuki couldn't help but be tempted.
viii. white day
The sunset was dazzling with its pinks and oranges. Tsuzuki had never been especially fond of watching the sun disappear from the sky, but he couldn't deny that it was beautiful. And it helped him to watch the sky and let his mind drift, thinking back on the past month and how everything and nothing had changed.
"Hey," Hisoka said, walking up and joining him at the railing. They were standing on a balcony that overlooked the sakura trees, which swayed delicately in the light wind.
"Hey, Hisoka," Tsuzuki greeted, glancing at his partner. The light of the sunset played on his blond hair, making it look darker and tinted with red. Then he noticed what Hisoka was wearing and blinked. "That's my sweater."
It was his sweater. Not the same sweater as back in the hotel, which had been thrown away after the incident, but a similar one.
"I like your sweaters," Hisoka said honestly. There was a moment's pause before he added, "They smell nice. It's... comforting."
Tsuzuki wasn't sure what to say to that, so he simply smiled at his partner. A comfortable silence lulled between them as both Shinigami looked out over the sakura trees and towards the setting sun.
"Tsuzuki."
"Mm?"
"It's White Day," Hisoka said. There was a rustling of paper and suddenly Hisoka's hand was holding something. "Here."
Tsuzuki took the bag and looked inside; lying on a napkin inside the white bag was a cookie, heart-shaped and decorated with red icing and sprinkles. Tsuzuki stared at the treat for a moment before turning to look at Hisoka.
"You remembered," he said softly. He hadn't expected that, that Hisoka would remember a silly little joke between them before what had happened. He certainly wasn't going to remind him. But apparently Hisoka didn't need reminders.
"I promised," Hisoka replied simply. Then he smiled, and Tsuzuki knew that this smile was more real that the one Muraki had forced him to make, and worth so much more. It fit his face, making him look warm and kind and so much like how Hisoka should look.
"Sankyuu, 'Soka-chan," Tsuzuki said, smiling brightly at his partner. "This is the best White Day gift ever!" He laughed as Hisoka blushed brightly and looked away.
"Shut up and eat your stupid cookie," mutter Hisoka, still blushing.
And Tsuzuki did.
vii. decision
"Well, Tsuzuki-san?" Muraki asked.
Hisoka's eyes stared up at him blankly.
Tsuzuki could feel his arousal deep within his belly, just waiting to take tangible form. Hisoka was right there, beautiful and lovely and delicate, kneeling on the ground in between Muraki's legs. It made Tsuzuki angry and tense and excited all at once. But he shouldn't find Hisoka's nakedness attractive, not when Muraki had caused it, and guilt reared up in his heart, immobilizing him.
Muraki seemed to think that Tsuzuki was debating his options and he gave Tsuzuki a leering glance. Softly, the doctor said, "Look, Tsuzuki-san, I can even make the boy smile for you."
Indeed, the blank Hisoka smiled, looking beautiful and sweet on his pretty face.
"He really is a perfect little doll."
But Hisoka was not a doll.
It was the most prevalent thought in Tsuzuki's mind, past all the unwanted desires and thoughts, past the horrible fact that Tsuzuki did want to have sex with Hisoka. Hisoka was not a doll. He was Hisoka. There was no other way to describe it but that Hisoka was Hisoka; he wasn't simply a pretty doll who could be played with and then set aside.
Which was what Muraki did. Which was what Muraki was offering. The chance to play with his beautiful doll and then leave Hisoka broken and damaged underneath the bed, a secret that would stay covered in cobwebs but still there.
The image of Hisoka hugging him, crying and asking Tsuzuki to live for him, came into his mind, and Tsuzuki nearly choked at the thought that he had been tempted.
He made his decision.
Without giving Muraki time to adjust, Tsuzuki pulled an ofuda out of his pocket and snapped it in Muraki's direction. It didn't do much more than explode in Muraki's face, but it pushed him back enough so that Tsuzuki could step in and grab Hisoka. The smaller boy detached easily from Muraki's leg, clearly not in control of his own movements. Tsuzuki clutched Hisoka's limp form to his chest and threw another ofuda at Muraki before the doctor could regain himself.
The combination of the attacks seemed to wear on Muraki's strength and Tsuzuki added another ofuda to the fray, causing the room to grow dusty in result of the explosions. Hisoka suddenly shifted in Tsuzuki's grip, making Tsuzuki pleased that his suspicion was correct; Muraki's hold over Hisoka had only been effective when he could focus on it, and now that Tsuzuki's attacks were distracting the doctor, Hisoka was awake again.
"Huh?" Hisoka began, blinking against Tsuzuki's chest. He froze for a moment and suddenly noticed his state of dress. "What the?"
Tsuzuki immediately threw off his trenchcoat and draped it around Hisoka, holding the boy tightly to his chest. Muraki was recovering swiftly, already beginning to will up his power to counter-attack, and Tsuzuki did not want to be around to experience it. Hisoka was clutching at his shirt, clearly terrified by his state of dress, his complete lack of information and Muraki's presence.
"Tsuzuki, what?"
"Go to Meifu," hissed Tsuzuki, throwing another ofuda in Muraki's direction to cover their getaway. "Now!"
Hisoka didn't think twice about following Tsuzuki's instructions and he disappeared. Tsuzuki did to, moments later, seeing the enraged face of Muraki through the smoke as he vanished.
And when he reappeared in Meifu, safe in his apartment, he was met with a horrified Hisoka who clutched at his shirt and trembled, asking what had just happened and what was going on. Tsuzuki hugged Hisoka to his chest, holding the boy securely and assuring him that nothing bad had happened. Hisoka accepted Tsuzuki's word and slowly calmed down, still wrapped protectively in Tsuzuki's overcoat and stained with dried blood.
They sat on the bed as Tsuzuki held Hisoka, informing his partner what had happened without including Muraki's offer, knowing that it would scare the boy even more. It felt nice to have Hisoka in his arms, to feel him calm down and relax despite his nakedness, and Tsuzuki knew that Muraki had been wrong. It didn't matter if Hisoka never loved him. As long as Hisoka would let Tsuzuki help him.
Tsuzuki smiled as he looked down at his partner, who was falling asleep against his chest.
They stayed like that for a long time.