Disclaimer - This is a fan work done for my own enjoyment, not a for-profit venture. I do not in fact own Descendents of Darkness as an IP.
Striving
I shut the door and lean against it with a sigh as I savour the stillness of my flat - my sanctuary. A groan works its way from my chest involuntarily and I shiver. Any day in which Muraki features is difficult for me, calling up memories I wish could be buried. On the other hand, such days show me just how much things have improved. I am free, independent and have people who genuinely care for me.
The telephone rings just as I put the kettle on to boil. It is Chief Konoe; he was concerned about me. Part of me is angry that he thinks me so weak but after five years of being dead my ego's finally losing a little bit of its prickle. I reassure him that, while rattled, I'm okay and confirm that I'll be in work promptly in the morning. I've heard Tsuzuki describe Konoe as fatherly - certainly he has a depth of character, inner strength and wisdom that marks him apart from those of us who died young. His compassion is an amazing thing - I wonder at how someone can feel for people and care about things without bleeding; he manages an emotional distance that still evades my erstwhile partner without succumbing to apathy.
I smile as I sit down with my mug of tea and my eye catches a 'photo of me and Tsuzuki - I am glaring at the camera over a copy of the Edda as Asato grins at the camera and makes a victory sign with one hand, the other thrown around my shoulders. I shake my head, there's no denying it - we're good for each other. I temper his excesses and snap him out of his worse funks. He loves me. It's as simple as that, he's a friend, mentor and bouncy big brother all rolled into one hyperactive bundle. Sometimes I think our relationship could become more intimate, but the way he falls in love is too unconditional and smothering. He loves almost everyone and everything about them. His bouncy, uncomplicated love was what allowed me to accept myself, but such over the top, naïve emotion isn't what I need. We'd probably end up cutting one another to pieces with our respective emotional trigger-points.
Luckily my other friends in the department are more cerebral and challenging, although not much less damaged - one doesn't become a shinigami if one's emotional state is all sunshine and roses, after all. Asato's mind projects genki cheer and a puppyish attitude because he often dare not let himself be serious. Watari's mind is rather less self-destructive. He is a complex man; calm, hyper, amusing and sharp as a knife. A wise optimist he sees everything, both bad and good, but his keen analytical mind and calm acceptance allow him to make the best of most things. His easily dispensed words of wisdom have helped me understand the world I live in and the fragile people around me. He accepts me into his world with an easygoing acceptance and casual respect that a damaged, under-socialised child needed in order for his existing talents to develop further. He really is a treasure and the department is lucky to have him.
He's not the only one we're lucky to have on our side. The team secretary - I snort at the thought of that, the shadow-master of course controls the lot of us from his theoretically ancillary position within the department. He is as strange as Watari in his own way, though mercifully less energetic than both Watari and Tsuzuki - I'd be grey by now if I had three of them to deal with! Even now I don't always understand his viewpoint - there are so many factors involved in anything he plans; I can almost always read the pragmatism, need for control and a not terribly well-hidden compassion, but other things lurk beneath that usually calm façade he presents. I've always respected him, but ever since the Count's violation of using his character in the story-book I've seen that ache, the pain that all us shinigami carry and it's only increased my affection and admiration for the man. Where Tsuzuki showed me love and Watari optimism and intellect, Tatsumi has demonstrated that control and silence are as important as power and raw intelligence.
The three men who've become my closest friends in this strange afterlife have given me so much. I want to grow and mature into a better man not just for myself, but in order that I can give them the friend that they deserve to have in their afterlives. The chiming of a clock rouses me from my reverie and I stand, yawn and stretch. I smile, it's getting late but I'm not scared of nightmares tonight. I go to bed and switch the light out confidently, warmed with thoughts of my friends.