It had been at least 4 years since they'd seen each other. Of course, the two of 'them' hadn't changed in the least, but he had. He was still mortal, after all, and mortals age. He still looked like 'him', though, just a bit older. When they finally met up again by chance on a case, he couldn't help but wonder if 'he' was a little bitter at him. It must have been hard, being dead and so young, always looking like a child, but somehow, he seemed to have accepted it as time passed.
He was planning on going to college soon. The local university was a good choice, but he's always had a liking for private schools, to tell the truth. On top of that, he'd been offered a scholarship to several colleges because of his violin playing. Yes, he'd been practicing ever since those days, and just as he promised, all of his songs were a dedication to the two of 'them'.
It'd been so long since then, and he'd missed 'them' so much! …And that's why he never expected that turn of events. He didn't mean to do it…
---- ---
"Hisoka? Oh, God… Hisoka!"
the young empath was lying on the floor, face, hands and shirt bloodied. A pool of glistening crimson was pooling beneath him, staining the once white carpets. Why had he done it? he hadn't meant to! But suddenly, he found the gun in his hands, and blood staining everything around him. He looked to the side, hoping to see Tsuzuki spring into action, but he wasn't moving, either. Tsuzuki's head was resting to the side, his eyes open as if in shock, but the blood that spilled from his lips was not a hopeful sign. Hisoka coughed next to him, and the musicians's eyes immediately went back to him. He was slightly writhing in the puddle of his own blood, eyes going unfocussed and blood gurgling out of the corner of his mouth. He was dying, Hijiri knew, but there was nothing he could have done, except cry.
…He'd done this.