A/N: This is my first ever fic, for my first ever OTP: TsuSoka. I love these two. Based on a poem I heard in school, which both plucked my heartstrings and reminded me of poor 'Soka-chan.
Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Yami no Matsuei. I merely love it a lot. :)
Warnings: Mentions of rape, child-abuse, neglect, verbal abuse, character death, shounen-ai, etc. First fic warning.
Who will cry
Who will cry for the little boy who sits alone in the dark?
Who will cry for the little boy who has a broken heart?
Hisoka sat alone in the dark, thinking. He was thinking about his life and his afterlife. When he was alive, he never really had a chance to be happy; to play and smile and be loved like a normal child. Than again, he never really was normal, was he?
'You're a demon!'...'You're a monster!'...'You're not my child!'
Those exclamations from his parents, of all people, had shattered his fragile child heart. He remembered the pain of not only their harsh words, but of the many years he was all alone in his parents' basement, crying his heart out. That was almost like what he was doing now, except for two very distinct facts. One: Hisoka was an adult now. No matter what anyone else said, he was all grown up and he refused to cry. Two: he wasn't really alone anymore, was he? He now had friends. Friends like Saya and Yuma (he repressed a shudder), Terazuma and Wakaba (he was not quite sure about Terazuma, to be honest, but Wakaba was always kind to him), and even Watari and Tatsumi (the former had almost immediately welcomed him into the shinigami family, and Tatsumi was less stern with him than he was with Tsuzuki...), and, last but not least, Tsuzuki himself (Hisoka didn't know why, but just thinking about the older shinigami made his heart flutter...)
'Tsuzuki...why can't I stop thinking about you?' Hisoka thought.
'It's okay to cry, you know, Hisoka. It's Okay...' he remembered Tsuzuki telling him once, after Muraki had hurt them yet again.
'Easy for that big idiot to say! He's always crying over nothing,' he told himself, but he couldn't get what Tsuzuki said out of his mind.
'It's okay to cry...' Finally, from the stress of days, months and years gone by, and all the pent up emotions inside, Hisoka let a tear slip out with the promise of more...
Who will cry for the little boy who has nothing to say?
Who will cry for the little boy who could not find his way?
Hisoka had never been able to speak his mind. At least, not during his life. The other shinigami would probably be shocked to hear that, because to them, Hisoka always ranted and raved, always verbalized his displeasure. Hisoka always had something to say.
'Tsuzuki, BAKA!' After all how could one constantly insult a man over twice his age and be unable to speak his mind? But one thing that they had to admit was that he was that Hisoka was indeed an introverted person, and very shy too, if all the blushes Tsuzuki always recieved were taken into account. Hisoka himself was trying to seem more confident -- to change from the pathetic boy he once was. He never stopped his parents from neglecting him, from locking him away in the dark cellar. And even when he tried, no one heeded.
'No, Mama, please! Please don't lock me away!'...'You're not my child!'
The memories still hurt him. And afterwards, when he first saw Muraki. Muraki... He was finally free that day. He had escaped from his parents, and for the first time in a long time, he was walking through his parents' land, walking through the shower of sakura petals. That was when he saw the man and the woman. They were close together like lovers and the young, innocent Hisoka wanted to see the love he was destined never to recieve. But then he saw the blood -- the dark, gleaming red blood. And the moon over his head was as red as the blood itself. He had screamed and the silver devil in an angel's guise had noticed him.
'What a beautiful doll. I should kill you in the most beautiful way possibe...' Those words had sent a chill down his spine. He had screamed and screamed to be set free, but the devil paid no heed. Nobody ever listened to him during his life, so he made the goal of his afterlife to be listened to and actually heard. The bloody knife had come closer and closer while the devil marked him and stole his innocence. Than the devil let him live for three more years, suffering in the hospital from an incurable disease. And his parents couldn't wait for him to die. When the curse finally took his life, he woke up in Meifu with the other shinigami, and for Hisoka life just started -- he finally found his path. Another tear slipped out...
Who will cry for the little boy who could not find the light?
Who will cry for the little boy who's feelings are out of sight?
Light, pure, innocent. Could that kind of label exist for Hisoka? The boy whose own parents thought him a monster. And he hadn't been innocent since he was thirteen, when Muraki ripped it from him. Ever since then he had locked his emotions away. Never coming off as soft or gentle. At least, he tried to appear cold and hard. But he couldn't. He couldn't be that way to Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki... Tsuzuki had suffered, too, and like Hisoka he covered up his emotions. But unlike Hisoka, who tried to come off as cold like ice, Tsuzuki tried to appear happy and cheerful. But he couldn't hide the truth from Hisoka, who was after all an empath. He had asked Tsuzuki once before why he hid his depression behind a smile, and all he'd recieved was another smile, just a little less hollow than the rest.
'I smile for you, Hisoka-chan. For you and the rest of my friends. You've all got your own problems. You don't need mine too,' Tsuzuki had said, sadly.
'BAKA! How could you say that? As your friends we -- I -- want to help you! You help me, Tsuzuki, and I want to help you too.' Hisoka had almost burst into tears right then. Tsuzuki smiled, but it wavered.
'No, Hisoka. I'm just a demon and I would only taint you,' Tsuzuki had said so softly. How can you taint whats already been tainted? A broken doll... But Tsuzuki was wrong. He wasn't a demon. In fact, he was the most human person that Hisoka had ever met. He was Hisoka's light... Tsuzuki...
Who will cry for the little boy who could not find his heart?
Who will cry for the little boy who's life was torn apart?
Contrary to popular belief, the day that Muraki's curse killed him wasn't the last day of his life. The last day of his life was when his parents discovered that he was an empath.
A demon, a monster... He remembered that day clearly. He couldn't have been more than six. He had woken up and began all his training in the martial arts that the heir to the Kurosaki family had to have. Afterward, he had run up to his mama, who was waiting for him with a glass of cold milk.
'Hello, my love! My sweet baby, look at you! You're all sweaty. Have a sip of this refreshing drink to cool off,' his mama had kindly said. Back then, his mother was his only source of happiness, for his father was a cruel, cold man. His mama always had the most comforting feelings too. When the rest of the house's feelings overwhelmed him too much, he came to his mama and was comforted by her her soothing, maternal emotions. All those maternal instincts went out the window the day his mother found out about his empathy. 'A monster...' As he sipped his cool milk, he saw his father come out of the house with a beautiful young woman. He supposed she was beautiful, but couldn't really tell as he was six. He felt something prickle at the back of his neck and looked up at his mother. She looked unemotional, apathetic, but he felt something deeper inside.
'Mama, do you hate her?' he had asked innocently and she looked at him in shock.
'Why do you say that, Hisoka?' she had asked, remaining calm though Hisoka felt the turmoil inside. The questions. 'How does he know? How can he tell? Am I that apparent?' were her thoughts.
'I felt it, Mama.' Little did he know that, that little admission had sentenced him to a life in hell.
'You felt it...' she had whispered silently, horrified. And after that, his life steadily turned from bad to worse. More tears...
Who will cry for the little boy who can no longer stand?
Who will cry for the little boy who can not find a hand?
No one had ever helped Hisoka, and he certainly never felt loved, so when he met Tsuzuki he was surprised by how affectionate the older shinigami was towards him. When they had first met, Hisoka had mistaken Tsuzuki for a vampire because of the blood on his collar. Certainly not a good first impression. And then, when he heard that Tsuzuki was someone who no one else wanted to be partnered up with, he had blown a casket. At first he didn't want to be Tsuzuki's partner, but now... He couldn't even imagine not being with Tsuzuki as he was. Tsuzuki had acted different when they first met. Not really cruel or mean, but less cheery and happy-go-lucky than he acted around Hisoka now. Hisoka remembered Tsuzuki slamming him up against the wall, and how he had nearly fainted from Tsuzuki's overwhelming feelings. And then Tsuzuki had reached out and...
'Guess you don't like me, huh?' Tsuzuki had asked him, cradling his own bloody hand. It was then that he told Tsuzuki about his empathy and was surprised when the older shinigami didn't shun him, and even more so, when they both steadily grew closer. The one good thing about his death was the presence of the older man.
Who will cry for the little boy who could not cleanse his soul?
Who will cry for the little boy who's memories are a black hole?
'I love you Hisoka...' Tsuzuki had once admonished.
'Why!?! Why would anyone want a broken doll?' Hisoka had replied, crying, unable to stop the tears or the bitterness. Hisoka knew he wasn't innocent. Hisoka knew he wasn't kind. All he had going for him was his child-like beauty, and eventually that wouldn't be enough to keep Tsuzuki close to him. He knew it was unfair to say that Tsuzuki was shallow enough to stay for only his looks, but he didn't mean it like that... He was forever a child. Tsuzuki was beautiful and kind. They didn't match up and he knew it. Eventually Tsuzuki would, too, and then he would leave a heart-broken Hisoka behind. Or even worse, he would take pity on Hisoka and stay. Hisoka's pride would not allow that. Everyone knew that Hisoka was a broken doll. He remembered when his memories had come back for the first time and Muraki's curse had flared as red as the moon on the day that he died. He had become a shinigami to find out what had killed him and to get revenge. But in the end, he was too weak to even achieve that. He remembered what Muraki had told him.
'You are just a broken doll...'...'A broken doll...'...'A broken doll...' It echoed in the back of his mind and made his heart throb painfully. Now the tears wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. They wouldn't stop...
Who will cry for the little boy who can no longer feel?
Who will cry for the little boy who can only heal?
Ever since meeting Tsuzuki, Hisoka would sometimes smile. It was unnoticeable, of course, to everyone but the dog-eared idiot. Hisoka remembered the first time Tsuzuki had caught him smiling. Tsuzuki had been fooling around again, but this time Hisoka couldn't help but break out into a small smile. It was a tiny smile, barely there, but Tsuzuki had seen it and wouldn't stop bothering Hisoka about it.
'You have such a pretty smile, 'Soka. You should do it more often' Tsuzuki had said, making a pale blush adorn Hisoka's cheeks.
'Baka!' Hisoka had responded by thwacking Tsuzuki on the head.
'OW! You're so mean, Soka-chan!!! WAH!' Tsuzuki had said through crocodile tears. But Hisoka could sense his happiness at seeing Hisoka smile. After that, Hisoka slipped up and smiled more often and Tsuzuki was noticeably less hollow with his smiles. After they had finally got a relationship going, to everyone's relief, Hisoka became less introverted, even though he still blushed for every kiss Tsuzuki stole. Life became routine for Hisoka, then. He would wake up in the morning with Tsuzuki giving him a good morning kiss and after responding with a 'Good morning,' he was off to the bathroom. After the two love birds were done having breakfast, they would walk hand-in-hand to work. Saya and Yuma would be waiting to jump them and ooh and aah at Hisoka's cute pout and blush, much to Tsuzuki's amusement and Hisoka's annoyance. After work, he would be walked home by Tsuzuki and kissed goodnight. Than nightmares of Muraki would plague him. Eventually, Hisoka grew tired of routine and questioned Tsuzuki as to why the man never went further than hand holding and kissing. The man had smiled at him sadly and kissed his forehead.
'I'm waiting for you to heal, 'Soka-chan...' Tsuzuki had said.
'Heal? But how can I do that?' The dam had burst and Hisoka curled himself into a fetal position and sobbed...
Who will cry for the little boy who can no longer see?
Who will cry for the little boy that cries inside of me?
Hisoka sat in the dark, sobbing. He was crying quietly so as not to alert anybody. Especially not Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki...
The man came through the door, obviously searching for his young partner. That's when he heard the quiet sobs. He looked inside and saw the boy sitting in the dark, curled up, weeping pitifully.
"'Soka, what's wrong?" he asked softly, when the boy realized he was there. Hisoka immediately began rubbing his face dry.
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong," the boy said, his voice quivering. He tried to stay strong, but couldn't. In a second, he was a sobbing mess again. Tsuzuki reached for him, then hesitated. Than he reached forward and pulled the boy to him. He expected the boy to fight, but Hisoka melted into his embrace. He began rubbing Hisoka's back soothingly and soon the sobs died down into little hiccups and then stopped all together. Soon, Hisoka's breathing became deep and the boy fell asleep. Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around the precious boy in his arms and let a couple of tears fall.
'Hisoka, you don't have to cry. You don't have to, because I will cry for you...'
A/N: Please forgive me for any stupid mistakes. -_-; I'm not so good at writing, but I love it and I hope I will be, someday.
R&R: Please leave me feedback. This is my first piece and I hope, with your help, I can write more. Review!