The Sun Will Rise
Author: Trans
Pairing: TsuzukixHisoka
Warning: This will be a lot of angst, conflicting love, shounen-ai. All the usual good stuff. This will also contain SPOILERS for the Gensoukai arc
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei
AN: Chapter one, enjoy the confusion, and be patient, Tsuzuki will pop up again.
Chapter 1
"Uhh…" He felt warm, a hot coil spun between his ears, but something cool and damp brushed over his brow and down his cheekbones. His thoughts were stuck somewhere that he couldn't reach, so he didn't move at all--didn't try to open his eyes at first. It could wait. He felt so safe, and just so warm. The cold dampness lifted from his head, and dainty fingers brushed hair from his eyes.
"Mmm…" It took him a second to remember how to open his eyes, but when they blinked open he could finally see the face that looked down at him. "Miya?" Short hair in pigtails, she smiled softly over him. She would always be a plain country girl, but in Hisoka's opinion, her smile gave her a sort of innocent charm. Too bad being a servant of this family meant she would never be able to marry.
"Good your awake! Your father has been worried about you." She set down the washcloth in her hand and knelt back. None of the lights were on in this room, so it had to still be early in the day.
"What…what happened?" He tried to remember but his mind felt fuzzy, like he'd slept too long--too deeply. He knew he'd been dreaming something too…but besides purple eyes and red moons, it alluded him. He often had inane dreams anyway, that he couldn't recall, and always left him unsettled. His head throbbed dully. Had he hit it on something, he wondered?
Miya frowned. "You've been overworking yourself. Ever since Dr. Hazama's…tragic death, you've been so concerned about the Mistress that you've neglected yourself! We were so worried when you collapsed yesterday!" Her hands clasped at the hem of her yukata restlessly. "You have a slight fever. You should rest, and I'll bring you something to eat." She stood up and hurried from the room.
Hisoka settled back into his blankets, his head slowly clearing of its haze. He hadn't been working too hard, he could argue, but he knew Father wouldn't hear anything of it. But if they had no doctor, that left only the few servants that knew about her, to take care of Mother. He wanted to be there for her too! She needed someone, and he might not be a doctor…but he could at least be there. Perhaps he hadn't been sleeping enough…but it was necessary, even if Father didn't believe him…
"Its good to see you awake." Hisoka lifted himself up from his pillows into a sitting position. It wasn't Miya bringing his tray of food, it was his father. He was frowning a look of disapproval, as he kneeled down at his bedside. He set the tray onto his lap and said, with no room for questioning, "eat, you haven't been eating enough lately. Rui would never forgive me if I let you waste-away like this."
Bowing his head in apology, he swallowed before speaking. "I'm sorry Father. I didn't mean to worry you." A large hand rested on his shoulder. Hisoka looked up to see him smiling. He studied his father's face carefully, all too aware of his own difficulties as of late. The smile seemed to warm away some of the tiredness from his face, but his eyes still looked like those of a cold snake. Hisoka forced himself not to look away.
"Your mother has been…ill, for almost two years, and nothing you do will change that. I, myself…haven't been in the utmost health. We have to keep you healthy now, don't we?" For the village. The Kurosaki line must stay strong…and his father was doing his best for him too. Hisoka knew, that once Father was gone, the family responsibilities would go to himself.
"I'll be more careful," he said taking a few bites off his plate. He didn't want his father to worry about him too. So much had happened lately in the family, that he wanted to be there to help bear the weight. Hisoka was nearly eighteen. He was a man--seventeenth generation Kurosaki!
"Good," he shifted into a more comfortable position besides Hisoka's bed. "I talked to Miya, and she and I agree, you have been working too hard taking care of your mother. I know you don't like the servants doing all the work, but it isn't your responsibility either. Its been nearly a month since Dr. Hazama left us…and I've sent for a new doctor. I've received confirmation that one will be arriving in a day or two. I hope, that that might ease your mind." Nagare looked at him expectantly, his bandaged hands resting in his lap. His father used to be, still was, a handsome man. Hisoka hoped he could grow to be like him someday.
"Of course. Maybe they will be able to help mother…" There was still hope. He could feel that longing in my heart, to be a family again, and for everything to be alright.
"Well then, I expect you to rest some more. I don't want to have this conversation again, understood?" That was his father, strict, but you always knew he cared. From the time Hisoka was little, he had done his best to lessen the burden of the family name. They never talked about it, but he knew that his grandfather hadn't been as compassionate. He tried to do his best, and in kind, Hisoka tried to be the best son he could be.
"Yes," he promised. He would just be more careful, and perhaps this new doctor would be able to help his mother. There was only so much he could do after all. Often he only sat at her bedside, although she didn't seem for be able to hear what he was saying most of the time. But sometimes…sometimes she would turn her head and smile--even say his name.
"Well then, I'll let you finish your lunch." His father stood and left quietly.
Suddenly, Hisoka felt ravenous and found himself finishing everything on his tray without even having to be goaded into doing so. It was good, and his head no longer felt fuzzy. He was feeling better, rested, and…perhaps he hadn't been sleeping enough. But there was no help for that. His father might not understand, but he couldn't be lax in his duties, not if his mother was to get better--be safe.
Sliding the tray from his lap, He stood up, and cleaned up his futon, placing it neatly in the corner of his room. Hisoka's muscles were still a little sore, but he didn't feel dizzy, perhaps he would just take it light today. Usually he would train every morning, but it was nearly noon now, and he didn't think he would be up for it. There was no point in practicing if he was only going to be sloppy. No, he hadn't gotten to check in on his mother last night, so he would go see her now. But first, he frowned looking down at himself, he needed a bath. From his dresser he pulled out a change of clothes, and left his room for the bath.
qpqpqpqpqpqpqp
The hallways in this portion of the estate were darker. The main house was always lit fully. It was pristine and warm. The side buildings, this building in particular, were never granted much light. It frustrated Hisoka sometimes, like they were purposefully trying to blot the place out of existence…but he knew that wasn't true. He didn't hate this place, even if it frightened him a little. That was why he always brought light with him. Why shuffle in the dark, using flint to spark a flame, when you can invite light willingly into the cold space? And it was always cold…so empty. "It must be so lonely out here…"
He pulled the key that hung around his neck out from the from of his yukata, and turned it in the rusty lock. It clicked loudly, and he pulled the door open. The hinges protested, groaning in a low drawn out sound, but he was used to this by now. "Perhaps we should have it oiled…," he whispered to himself. It was a bad habit he had when he came out here where the silence was unnerving.
Using his own lantern's flame, he began to light the ones inside, until the glow was bright enough to expose the interior of this room with no windows. What it must be like to live in a place with no light… his father just didn't understand. Hisoka couldn't leave her alone out here. "Good afternoon mother…I'm sorry I didn't visit last night, and I'm so late today. I'll make it up to you."
Slipping his shoes off onto the mat by the door, he made his way to the only chair in the room. It was resting dutifully by the large bed, where his mother rested. She looked the same as he had last seen her. Her cheeks were gaunt making her cheekbones more pronounced in her face, unblinking eyes popping. Bony fingers clung to the swell of her stomach through the sheets covering her, and her mouth gaped, muttering things under her rattling breath that made no sense.
Reaching out, Hisoka brushed some of the hair from her face. He tried not to notice how brittle the strands felt now, when he could remember a time when he had admired their sheen and beauty. He tried not to think about how clammy and cold the skin of her forehead felt when his fingertips skimmed it, when he remembered a time that her hugs were so warm it felt like all the problems in the world could disappear. There was a time when she was animated and loving, always put together in the way that made her look like a delicate butterfly.
Swallowing back the burn in his throat he tried to continue, "Father has sent for a new doctor, and maybe he'll be able to cure…this." He looked back down at her stomach, at that abnormal pregnancy of two years. He didn't trust it. If it were a child…then it was not his sibling. No normal child would rob their mother of life--would reduce her to this. But what could he do? Their family, despite circumstances, strived to uphold a standard of normalcy. Family pride made many things taboo. He could remember many times he had tried to breech the lines, and talk with his father…but he always thought better at the last moment.
The doctor was for his sake, not Mother's. Hisoka didn't believe his father thought Mother could be cured. There were many things they did not talk about, to maintain the peace, and uphold their family's honor. He did not question where they placed Mother after her illness. He understood it was for their own protection…if his uncle were to find out… but he was also too scared to ask for more lights. He couldn't break his silence--break his mother's darkness.
"I'm sorry…" Hisoka clasped one of those thin hands in his own, leaning forward to rest his head against the edge of the mattress. His eyes stung, like always when he touched her, because he was almost forgetting what it was like when she had been well. It scared him, how memories escaped him, leaving him with only emptiness. Sure their family had been far from perfect. His father and mother had never been in love with each other…but they had loved him, and the three had made a close family to block everything else out. There had been happiness despite the natural sorrows of being a Kurosaki, but now…now Hisoka felt so alone. Most of the time he wondered why their lives had been condemned to something so fearful and lonely. All he had left was his mother and father, and it seemed both were slipping away from him.
"I'll protect you. I promise. Mother please hang on." Clutching that hand tighter, Hisoka sighed into the soft blankets. Help was on the way. He felt that hope blinking to life again in his chest…somehow he had the feeling that something good was about to happen, something big. Tomorrow would mean something.
