Author's Note: It's disjointed and disturbing-ish on purpose.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yami no Matsuei.
Facets of Hate
Hisoka hates a lot of things.
First, he hates his psychic powers.
Second, he hates Muraki.
Third, he hates himself.
Hisoka doesn't hate working at EnmaCho. He doesn't hate the
people there. He doesn't even hate the jobs he gets sent out on,
messy and unpleasant as they can be.
But he is always, ~always~ irritated.
At work people wonder why he's cranky, and why he's so mean. He's
heard the sniggered comments about how he has PMS, with his
whip-crack sudden mood swings and changes of opinion. It never
occurs to them that there's a simple explanation for it. It's
because the moods he's displaying aren't his own. He knows they
aren't his own. He can't help it.
Fucking empathy. No one understands what a curse it is.
He hears Tatsumi worrying over the budget, Konoe-kacho fuming
over Tsuzuki's latest exploit, Wakaba sympathizing with both
Terazuma and Tsuzuki. He never has a moment to himself, even when
he barricades himself in his small house and locks the door,
because Meifu is so small and all the minds living there are so
strong he can't block them out.
He doesn't understand it, though. For Christ's sake, can't anyone
on Meifu learn how to shield? It isn't Hisoka's fault when their
thoughts and feelings wear on him like sandpaper, and it's been a
long day for everyone and tempers are running short, and Tsuzuki
is depressed and hasn't gotten his cinnapon for the third day in
a row - And then Hisoka starts to think things like "I
really like the ones with extra frosting, I think I'll stop by
after work," or "I'll have to get a new hair-ribbon for
her to thank her" or "When did Konoe-kacho schedule the
meeting for next week?"
And he gets up to ask Wakaba her favorite color or go ask Tatsumi
for more funding, and then realizes that it wasn't him that was
thinking that. Tsuzuki stares for a bit, and he feels himself
turn red, which he hates - only Tsuzuki can make him blush - and
he sits back down without doing anything and feels like an idiot.
Hisoka doesn't understand some things. Like how Tsuzuki can eat
so much in one sitting, or how Tatsumi always can figure out just
how much was spent on dessert even when Tsuzuki doesn't save the
receipt. He doesn't understand how Watari can blow up a lab every
week and yet isn't in as deep a debt as Tsuzuki.
He doesn't understand how Tsuzuki can smile so much while dying
of so much pain and loneliness on the inside.
He's heard enough meaningless philosophy to understand that
everyone is alone. No one has anyone but themselves, when it
comes right down to it. Even if you have loved more deeply than
can possibly be understood, you will be alone in the end, just
you in your head with your thoughts running from you as you fade
to black. Fade to death.
But that isn't true, because Hisoka is never alone.
He should be used to it by now, having his thoughts invaded and
waylaid by the minds of others. It's been happening since he was
born, but it never gets easier. The strange, foreign touch of
another mind unnerves him now as it had when he first felt his
mother's hatred toward him, his father's disgusted
disappointment.
It had been even worse when he'd met Muraki for the first time,
when he'd witnessed the murder. He felt the woman die. He felt
her pain and terror and hate and panic, and he felt it all fading
away, fading into nothing - and it felt like ~he~ was
fading, like ~he~ was dying, and he couldn't move for the
shock of it all. And that momentary hesitation between when the
feeling of death faded and when Muraki spotted him that had been
the beginning of his own demise.
When he'd fallen sick, he'd felt every joy and pain in that
hospital, every moment of victory and defeat, and every death.
Every. Single. Death.
Always fading away, always slipping into that black abyss, and
never ever staying there in solitude and peace.
It said in the files in the Gushoshin's library that Kurosaki
Hisoka had been dying for three years. No one but Hisoka ever
really knew how accurate that was.
The second worst memory Hisoka has is of his rape. Because no
matter how strong his own feelings of terror and pain and disgust
and hate and panic had been, throughout the whole ordeal he could
still feel Muraki's sick, twisted enjoyment. In the confusion of
the moment, in his panic and confusion, it had been hard to
understand which emotions were his and which weren't.
He'd felt his rapist's pleasure and mistaken it for his own. He
still feels nauseous and dizzy whenever he tries to come to terms
with the idea, which is so utterly wrong and disgusting, and he
knows he ~didn't~ enjoy being raped - but emotions rarely listen
to the protests of the mind.
He hates himself, and whenever the scars that remind him of the
encounter appear on his body, he wants to dig his fingers in and
tear the flesh from his body.
Every time he thinks about Muraki, his scars resurface. One can
barely tell they're there, normally. But as long as Muraki is
around, Hisoka's chest, back, and arms will gain intricate, red
tattoos at the thought of what happened that night.
Red, the color of blood. The color of pain. The color of lust.
The color of innocence not so much lost as brutally ripped to
pieces and devoured in a sea of self-loathing and despair.
Hisoka hated himself in life, and he still does now. So he
doesn't understand why Tsuzuki puts up with him. Why he's always
ready with a smile in the morning when Hisoka arrives, why he
tells ridiculous jokes in misguided attempts to get Hisoka to
laugh, why he is always just ~there~, waiting and smiling
as if it was normal.
Hisoka doesn't understand how he ever managed to get Tsuzuki to
stay.
It still fills him with horrified panic, the thought that Tsuzuki
wanted to die - still wants to, in fact. He can't hide that from
Hisoka, no matter how many times he smiles and jokes and eats too
much.
So why is he still here? Because Hisoka needs him? That's another
thing that makes no sense to the teen. Why would anyone stay
around for someone like ~him~? A cold, moody, twisted and
broken boy that doesn't even know if the need he feels is the
same as love?
And how could he even need Tsuzuki, much less love him? He
doesn't understand how the man, who'd only been annoying and
confusing by turns, had become so important. All he knows is that
if Tsuzuki moves on, he'll follow. The idea of continuing to live
and work and feel other people's feelings without the reassuring
presence of Tsuzuki makes Hisoka want to curl up on the floor and
have a panic attack. His heart leaps into his throat and he has
to breathe deeply for a few moments to get his composure back.
It scares him that he feels this deeply about Tsuzuki. It scares
him that some nights he wakes up in a sweat because he's had the
nightmare he's had since Kyoto, the one where it's him and
Tsuzuki in the flames and Tsuzuki won't stay with him. Only in
this version, Tsuzuki does stay with him, and they're embracing
each other and Hisoka feels so so so warm and it's got nothing to
do with the flames around them.
Because then he and Tsuzuki aren't in the flames, they're in a
bed, together, with Tsuzuki above him and around him and pressing
down on him. And it feels so good for a moment, because they're
kissing and it's so sweet it makes tears threaten to spill over.
But then the dream is twisted in memories of Muraki and pain and
fear, and Hisoka wakes up to see his bright red scars in
moonlight. But he can hear everyone around him and he's not alone
but he's so so scared. And he ~is~ alone, because Tsuzuki
doesn't want to be alive, even for him.
Hisoka hates a lot of things.
He hates it when people touch him.
He hates nightmares.
He hates crying.
He hates that he wants to be held when he cries.
END
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