AN: I'd like to thank Inami and XiaMei for being inspiration for this fic. I'd also like to thank Kurosai-sama for always having that little "Gambatte" to keep me going. Um, advanced happy birthday to my friend Zephyr. Consider this a little birthday gift! More to come with this fic. Ohh... so much more to come!!!
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Chapter One: Detention
He awoke in a position that was most unlike him; lying on his side and tightly hugging his discarded trenchcoat. Kazutaka Muraki opened his eyes slowly, taking a moment to accustom his vision to the sudden light. Without shifting his position, he moved his good eye in order to survey his surroundings.
Plastered walls of an off-white shade surrounded him. Beneath his form was an unfamiliar bed, sheets that gave no such comfort whatsoever. A dim light filled the room from the rising sun. A strange feeling overcame him. There was a weakness rushing through his system. Spells that could get him forcefully out of here refused to work. A negation field was put into effect. Muraki understood. Well, he would just have to bide his time and wait. It was not in his nature, after all, to rush things. With a sigh, his eye moved to stare at the wall he faced. Gripping his trenchcoat a bit tighter, he strained to hear anything that would lead to an answer for where he was and how he got there.
Movement from the nearby doorway leading to an adjoining room caught his attention. Someone else seemed to be there. His good eye shifted to see who had arrived. The newcomer glared at him with all the hatred there seemed to be in the world and made his way to another bed nearby. Short blonde hair, sad emerald eyes, a lithe form clothed in a blue jacket and an orange shirt…this was the visage of Kurosaki Hisoka. The very sight of the lad brought everything back to him now. In the evening before, the good doctor had been engaged in a bit of demon summoning. He had been caught off guard. It seemed certain that no shinigami would find him but… her now knew better than to underestimate his opponents. The members of the JuOhCho were indeed crafty.
He had known better.
But he let his guard down.
Muraki mentally cursed himself for being too overconfident.
He reached for his glasses which he found on a nearby table. He pushed them up his nose as he watched Hisoka off the corner of his eyes. The shinigami narrowed his eyes at the doctor, never once lowering his glare. Muraki let a small chuckle escape his throat. Indeed, it was adorable seeing the boy so protective of his personal space. Hisoka turned away as he heard the mirthful reply to his rage.
"Awake already, I see." Said a voice.
Tatsumi Seiichiro appeared at the doorway next. "You're lucky, Muraki…lucky I told Kurosaki-kun not to kill you until we could hand you over to the JuOhCho for proper judgement." The secretary said. "So, I should feel… honored perhaps that this boy has decided to push aside his 'feelings' for me…?" Muraki commented. "Smart comments like that aren't going to get you anywhere, Muraki…" Hisoka warned.
Tatsumi disappeared into the other room to call the Gushoshin about the transfer. The doctor glanced at Hisoka for a moment. "So, boya… now that you have me," he asked. "What do you plan to do with me?" Hisoka let out a small "Hmph" and turned away.
Muraki, however, never once averted his gaze. Hisoka was not what one would call handsome. He was indeed, quite a beautiful boy. The doctor found himself immersed in those cheerless green eyes. The dim light reflected perfectly off Hisoka's golden hair and his smooth porcelain skin. Muraki rested his head on one hand, his eyes still fixated on this lustrous being before him.
Something in his heart shook. He was alone with this boy at the moment. He could be calling the shots… perhaps steal a kiss.. or more than a kiss at that. Something else stopped him, though. "You've been doing this all wrong, Kazutaka." He told himself. "More… subtle methods are in order, perhaps…"
"Pity for you, Kurosaki-kun." Tatsumi said, entering the room once more. "I was just off the phone with the Gushoshin and they're much too busy to file Muraki's case at the moment. For now, we have to keep him with us."
"But Tatsumi… Watari said he wanted to see us about something." Hisoka protested.
"We'll have to bring him with us, then." Tatsumi replied.
"N…Nani?!"
Muraki just sighed. This would be a long day…
"Get in the back with Muraki, Kurosaki-kun."
Hisoka began to protest upon hearing Tatsumi's order. "Why me?" he asked. "Because," Tatsumi began, taking the car keys out of his pocket. "You're too young to drive and he can't be left alone in the back seat." With no word said, the doctor opened the door and offered entrance to Hisoka with a dangerous sweep of his hand. Hisoka just glowered and refused to get in without Muraki entering first.
The road was long and… rather bumpy. Hisoka curled up near his side of the backseat, doing what Muraki had guessed as trying to stay away from him. But there was something about the shinigami's manner that struck him as odd. A short glance allowed him to take a stab at what the boy was feeling at the moment.
"Daijobu, boya?" he asked finally.
"D…don't call me boya…" Hisoka protested weakly.
Muraki sat a bit closer. "Personally, I think you're suffering from a slight case of nausea." He commented and placed one arm around Hisoka's shoulder. "Ha…hanashite yo!" the shinigami protested once more. The doctor merely held him closer, leaning Hisoka's head on his shoulder. "The more you struggle, the sicker you'll feel." Muraki cautioned.
Hisoka felt sick, indeed. Too sick. He decided to heed Muraki's advice, despite the screaming voice in his head that told him that Muraki was just taking advantage of his car sickness to …touch… him. True, Muraki was a psychotic, perverted doctor…but he was a doctor nonetheless. Hisoka actually felt comforted by this. Muraki felt warm, actually helping in removing this nuance of nausea from his system. Muraki's hand gently stroked Hisoka's shoulder, holding him closer.
Hisoka angrily shut his eyes. What was that pervert doing to him now? Why was he holding him like this? The shinigami thought of pulling away but now, he was far too sick to do anything else. He let the doctor continue, amazed at the gentle touch of his fingers. There was care in that touch, he noticed.
Care… and something he never felt from Muraki before.
Concern.
Perhaps he would let this one slide.
He began to relax, instinctively pushing himself closer into the doctor's embrace. The warmth was inviting, and indeed comforting. Hisoka refused to let his guard down, though. "Remember, Hisoka… remember what he did to you…" he reminded himself. The closeness thrust memories back into his brain. His system, however, fought back. Move, it threatened, and I'll make you throw up. "No…" Hisoka thought. It didn't matter now. When all this was over, Muraki would finally be out of his hair forever. Despite his better judgement, Kurosaki Hisoka fell asleep in the arms of his worst enemy.
The shinigami moaned, stirring in his sleep. Muraki felt relief that the boy had chosen to trust him… well, perhaps for this moment but this moment was all he needed. "No, Kazutaka…" he warned himself.
"Don't make him do anything he wouldn't want to."
Perhaps there was something more to this subtle method he had began to experiment with. Sure, it took all the fun out of the chase but… who knew what the long term effects were? "Boya…" he sighed, stroking Hisoka's hair with the fingers of the hand that cradled the shinigami's head. "Nn…" Hisoka replied, his hand reaching for the doctor's free one. Muraki smiled, knowing that the boy was doing this subconsciously.
Muraki held Hisoka closer, breathing the scent of his hair. Yes, a beautiful boy indeed. He watched Hisoka's fingers locked in his own, tightly gripping his hand. It was as if he needed to feel the doctor's presence. The doctor began to think that he could have done something more than hold him. He felt that he didn't want to, though…
This was fine.
For now.
In turn, the doctor leaned himself against Hisoka as well. He, too, began to feel the beginnings of nausea welling up in his stomach. Mentally, he cursed Tatsumi's lack of driving skills. Slowly, he closed his eyes and attempted to get a bit of sleep.
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END OF CHAPTER ONE
Disclaimers: No one here belongs to me. I no own, you no sue. simply stated.
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Chapter One: Detention
He awoke in a position that was most unlike him; lying on his side and tightly hugging his discarded trenchcoat. Kazutaka Muraki opened his eyes slowly, taking a moment to accustom his vision to the sudden light. Without shifting his position, he moved his good eye in order to survey his surroundings.
Plastered walls of an off-white shade surrounded him. Beneath his form was an unfamiliar bed, sheets that gave no such comfort whatsoever. A dim light filled the room from the rising sun. A strange feeling overcame him. There was a weakness rushing through his system. Spells that could get him forcefully out of here refused to work. A negation field was put into effect. Muraki understood. Well, he would just have to bide his time and wait. It was not in his nature, after all, to rush things. With a sigh, his eye moved to stare at the wall he faced. Gripping his trenchcoat a bit tighter, he strained to hear anything that would lead to an answer for where he was and how he got there.
Movement from the nearby doorway leading to an adjoining room caught his attention. Someone else seemed to be there. His good eye shifted to see who had arrived. The newcomer glared at him with all the hatred there seemed to be in the world and made his way to another bed nearby. Short blonde hair, sad emerald eyes, a lithe form clothed in a blue jacket and an orange shirt…this was the visage of Kurosaki Hisoka. The very sight of the lad brought everything back to him now. In the evening before, the good doctor had been engaged in a bit of demon summoning. He had been caught off guard. It seemed certain that no shinigami would find him but… her now knew better than to underestimate his opponents. The members of the JuOhCho were indeed crafty.
He had known better.
But he let his guard down.
Muraki mentally cursed himself for being too overconfident.
He reached for his glasses which he found on a nearby table. He pushed them up his nose as he watched Hisoka off the corner of his eyes. The shinigami narrowed his eyes at the doctor, never once lowering his glare. Muraki let a small chuckle escape his throat. Indeed, it was adorable seeing the boy so protective of his personal space. Hisoka turned away as he heard the mirthful reply to his rage.
"Awake already, I see." Said a voice.
Tatsumi Seiichiro appeared at the doorway next. "You're lucky, Muraki…lucky I told Kurosaki-kun not to kill you until we could hand you over to the JuOhCho for proper judgement." The secretary said. "So, I should feel… honored perhaps that this boy has decided to push aside his 'feelings' for me…?" Muraki commented. "Smart comments like that aren't going to get you anywhere, Muraki…" Hisoka warned.
Tatsumi disappeared into the other room to call the Gushoshin about the transfer. The doctor glanced at Hisoka for a moment. "So, boya… now that you have me," he asked. "What do you plan to do with me?" Hisoka let out a small "Hmph" and turned away.
Muraki, however, never once averted his gaze. Hisoka was not what one would call handsome. He was indeed, quite a beautiful boy. The doctor found himself immersed in those cheerless green eyes. The dim light reflected perfectly off Hisoka's golden hair and his smooth porcelain skin. Muraki rested his head on one hand, his eyes still fixated on this lustrous being before him.
Something in his heart shook. He was alone with this boy at the moment. He could be calling the shots… perhaps steal a kiss.. or more than a kiss at that. Something else stopped him, though. "You've been doing this all wrong, Kazutaka." He told himself. "More… subtle methods are in order, perhaps…"
"Pity for you, Kurosaki-kun." Tatsumi said, entering the room once more. "I was just off the phone with the Gushoshin and they're much too busy to file Muraki's case at the moment. For now, we have to keep him with us."
"But Tatsumi… Watari said he wanted to see us about something." Hisoka protested.
"We'll have to bring him with us, then." Tatsumi replied.
"N…Nani?!"
Muraki just sighed. This would be a long day…
"Get in the back with Muraki, Kurosaki-kun."
Hisoka began to protest upon hearing Tatsumi's order. "Why me?" he asked. "Because," Tatsumi began, taking the car keys out of his pocket. "You're too young to drive and he can't be left alone in the back seat." With no word said, the doctor opened the door and offered entrance to Hisoka with a dangerous sweep of his hand. Hisoka just glowered and refused to get in without Muraki entering first.
The road was long and… rather bumpy. Hisoka curled up near his side of the backseat, doing what Muraki had guessed as trying to stay away from him. But there was something about the shinigami's manner that struck him as odd. A short glance allowed him to take a stab at what the boy was feeling at the moment.
"Daijobu, boya?" he asked finally.
"D…don't call me boya…" Hisoka protested weakly.
Muraki sat a bit closer. "Personally, I think you're suffering from a slight case of nausea." He commented and placed one arm around Hisoka's shoulder. "Ha…hanashite yo!" the shinigami protested once more. The doctor merely held him closer, leaning Hisoka's head on his shoulder. "The more you struggle, the sicker you'll feel." Muraki cautioned.
Hisoka felt sick, indeed. Too sick. He decided to heed Muraki's advice, despite the screaming voice in his head that told him that Muraki was just taking advantage of his car sickness to …touch… him. True, Muraki was a psychotic, perverted doctor…but he was a doctor nonetheless. Hisoka actually felt comforted by this. Muraki felt warm, actually helping in removing this nuance of nausea from his system. Muraki's hand gently stroked Hisoka's shoulder, holding him closer.
Hisoka angrily shut his eyes. What was that pervert doing to him now? Why was he holding him like this? The shinigami thought of pulling away but now, he was far too sick to do anything else. He let the doctor continue, amazed at the gentle touch of his fingers. There was care in that touch, he noticed.
Care… and something he never felt from Muraki before.
Concern.
Perhaps he would let this one slide.
He began to relax, instinctively pushing himself closer into the doctor's embrace. The warmth was inviting, and indeed comforting. Hisoka refused to let his guard down, though. "Remember, Hisoka… remember what he did to you…" he reminded himself. The closeness thrust memories back into his brain. His system, however, fought back. Move, it threatened, and I'll make you throw up. "No…" Hisoka thought. It didn't matter now. When all this was over, Muraki would finally be out of his hair forever. Despite his better judgement, Kurosaki Hisoka fell asleep in the arms of his worst enemy.
The shinigami moaned, stirring in his sleep. Muraki felt relief that the boy had chosen to trust him… well, perhaps for this moment but this moment was all he needed. "No, Kazutaka…" he warned himself.
"Don't make him do anything he wouldn't want to."
Perhaps there was something more to this subtle method he had began to experiment with. Sure, it took all the fun out of the chase but… who knew what the long term effects were? "Boya…" he sighed, stroking Hisoka's hair with the fingers of the hand that cradled the shinigami's head. "Nn…" Hisoka replied, his hand reaching for the doctor's free one. Muraki smiled, knowing that the boy was doing this subconsciously.
Muraki held Hisoka closer, breathing the scent of his hair. Yes, a beautiful boy indeed. He watched Hisoka's fingers locked in his own, tightly gripping his hand. It was as if he needed to feel the doctor's presence. The doctor began to think that he could have done something more than hold him. He felt that he didn't want to, though…
This was fine.
For now.
In turn, the doctor leaned himself against Hisoka as well. He, too, began to feel the beginnings of nausea welling up in his stomach. Mentally, he cursed Tatsumi's lack of driving skills. Slowly, he closed his eyes and attempted to get a bit of sleep.
--------------------------------------------
END OF CHAPTER ONE
Disclaimers: No one here belongs to me. I no own, you no sue. simply stated.