Yes I am a total review whore XD Giff me reviews naiw pleasu. Kthnxbai! And if you have time, read some of my other stories too, 'kay:D I love maggypies, they're quite possibly my favorite bird.
Kehehehe, I love this whole idea. So adorable--in a desperate almost-yet-not-quite stalkerish way.
(Watari: Tatsuuuumiiiiiiii give me back my labcoat! It's one of my best:points at 'Ask me about my chemistry' slogan on the back:
Tatsumi: Mine:increases snuggledeathgrip on the coat:) XD I have to draw that chibiness sometime :'DDD Er, right.
I'm sorry this took so long, but it became way more complicated an intense than I originally had planned, but the magpie folklore I knew got me thinking, and then researching (I even looked up some buddhist chant words!), and some of you wanted to know what happened to Watari so... wow. Now it's this. I intended for it to be way more vauge! Hope you like it! Okay. Storytime now :D
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Collections
Watari Yutaka had a vast collection of things, it was just what he did.
He was a professional pack-rat of things, odds, ends, manga, calender pages, film reels, magnets, sunflower seeds, scientific journals, notices, newspapers, coffee cups, hairpins, periodic tables of the elements, movies, periodic tables of the elements memorabilia(five mugs, ten t-shirts, a pair of briefs, a bumper sticker, two window clings, a couple of mouse pads, a few posters, a lightswitch cover...honestly. How many periodic tables did people think he needed? He always got at least one at Christmastime and on his birthday...Though to be fair, two of the mugs had broken over the years in various accidents.) CDs, empty bottles, cracker crumbs, birds, late paperwork, porn, post it notes, beakers, more porn, burners, shot glasses, miscellaneous rubbish, books, anime, and half a dozen other inconsequential things.
Little of it meant anything to Watari. He just really didn't know what else to do, nor what else to do with his things once he obtained them. (Almost incongruously, Watari had few pictures around his house, but looking at a photo of himself as a child with strangers he could only guess to be his parents and friends was a little hard on him.)
So it was surprising when his newest collection actually meant something to him for a change.
A great deal to him in fact.
It was actually kind of scary.
One for Sadness...
It had started out like anything else. He saw it, he liked/needed it, so he picked it up.
It wasn't really anything special. Just a memo, reminding him again that they had a meeting later that week, or maybe that day, whenever. However, there was an additional note scrawled on the bottom, one in the other man's unmistakable, flawless hand.
Watari, have you been sleeping recently? You seem a bit tired and restless lately. Perhaps you should take a break from your latest experiment and go home tonight?
Don't forget the meeting, Tatsumi. The blonde looked at the message and smiled at the post-script, warning him that fatigue was not an adequate excuse for tardiness. Stifling a yawn, Watari looked down at the note, pleasantly surprised at how observant Tatsumi was. I guess nothing goes unnoticed by him. Maybe I will take that advice.
So he pocketed the scrap of paper.
Nothing magical, nothing new. He was always doing that, but he actually pulled out this paper and looked at it...quite often. Not something Watari usually did; he collected papers, books, and magazines, read them, and then promptly forgot about them--when he reread something he often ended up getting a second copy of it by mistake...not that he knew it.
Two for Mirth...
That was how it started. Suddenly Watari was solely collecting things to do with Tatsumi Seiichiro.
Collecting things wasn't unusual, (after all, Watari seemed to attract material objects like a proverbial magnet) it was the fact that this collection become so favored, and so suddenly.
Watari even began casting things away, to make room for new items related to the secretary.
That was an event in and of itself. Watari never threw anything away. His reasons spanned from, 'I don't have time to get rid of all this junk' to 'you never know when something might be useful!'
Three for Marriage...
Watari chewed on a pen idly as he catalouged his "Tatsumi Collection." So far he had: 324 paperclips, 2 staple removers (of which one was currently alive and scurrying through the halls like a little, bad-tempered mouse), a stapler, 761.45 staples, 6 fountain pens, 4 ballpoint pens, 84 memos, 33 emails, 3 pencils, an eraser, 54 budget request notices in various states of denial and approval, eighteen meeting notices (for the preceding week alone), some coffee cups (paper and styrafoam), a pair of the kagetsukai's glasses he broke (thank Enma for his powers, and that he was able to replace them!), a fluffy white towel from the Kurosaki case, countless reminders not to blow up the lab again, a cufflink, a about a dozen or so informal notes inquiring about the state of Watari's health or sleep, and a smattering of thank-you notes for one thing or another.
Watari sighed. He still felt like his collection was missing something...then it dawned on him. He fought the urge to giggle aloud--003 teased him enough about how much time he spent with his newest obsession, and he didn't need to give her an added incentive to. He settled, instead, for letting his mouth twist into a wry smile. I need a tie.
Four for Birth...
Now a normal person simply would have gone out and bought a tie, however it has been firmly established that Shinigami are not normal people--least of all Watari.
Five for Laughing...
Thus it was that Watari decided to somehow obtain one of the secretary's ever-present, boring (yet-oh-so-sexy) ties.
Being a man of both philosophy and science Watari was well familiar with the phrase, "Be careful what you wish for."
It was a shame he wasn't thinking about it at the time.
Six for Crying...
Mistress Fortune had a funny way of granting Watari's request. Funny as in, 'ha ha, isn't that nutty?' not, 'what the hell, is that a three headed donkey?' funny.
Or at least it was funny if one thought things like, 'ha ha, look at that bunny rabbit getting burned alive and eaten by termites' was funny.
If that was to be considered funny, then what happened to Watari could only be classified as 'hilarious.'
Seven for Sickness...
It was a standard case at first glance. Some demon was lurking around and running amok, screwing with the spiritual matrix of Watari's sector--meaning he actually had to leave the lab and go take care of the stupid thing(grumble, grumble)--just the usual depravity, strange deaths, and missing souls that usually accompany such cases. One of many similar crimes a Shinigami might see during his career.
It seemed to be some minor demon, or some magician-screwball of Muraki's ilk. Seemed to be.
As Watari walked down the streets of Osaka (mourning his responsibility at choosing to stay away from 'Den Den Town' this trip, as he really didn't have the money to go crazy in an electronic paradise) he looked up and noticed a magpie sitting in the branch of a ginko tree. He frowned. It didn't seem to be the native, azure-tinted magpie that inhabited Japan. No, this was the standard 'Black and White' magpie--the one that most people in the Western World think of when they hear the word. Huh, how.. odd. The bird tilted it's head at him, as though observing him.
Watari found himself remembering a little folk rhmye he'd heard somewhere. Magpie, magpie, chatter and flee--Turn up thy tail, and good luck to me. The bird chirped at him once and then sat there, as if in defiance of his sudden thought. Watari shrugged and walked on, but the bird still watched him suspiciously with its bright red eyes.
Watari's back was turned, so he didn't notice when a second magpie fluttered down to join his mate.
Eight for Dying...
One magpie was strange enough, but suddenly Watari began to notice more and more of the birds as he approached the shrine that was at the center of all the spiritual ruckus going on in the city. Then those few bacame a dozen, and those dozen became twenty, and suddenly there was an entire tiding, a whole charm of magpies perched on every available surface--all completely silent, all watching him unblinkingly. It was a little unnerving...
When he came within twenty paces of the Shrine gates, the birds all started cawing at once, chattering uproariously. Watari cringed, that was going to give him a headache if they kept that up. He took one step back. Silence. As though someone had thrown the 'mute' switch. One step forward, the harsh call of the corvadae ripped at his ears. Hm. Sooooo..I guess this person...or demon has some sort of magpie affiliation? That might explain some of those weird feathers I kept finding at all the places of vanishings and murders...
CAW!CAW!CAWE!CAWE!CAWCACAWE..!
Urgh.
The chemist proceded through the temple, and it was empty, no attendants, no visitors. There was a courtyard in the back, where more crow-kin stood on the ground, cawing and crying. In the center of this mass of black and white, there was a gap. A perfect cirle six and a half feet in diameter. Shit. The cawing stopped suddenly, and became more rhytmic, like a chant, like a song, or like a summons! Oh shit! This can't be good... Watari whipped out a fuda and attempted to startle the birds, perhaps jar them out of their trance, but there were just so many--everywhere! And now they were whirling in the sky as well, blocking out the light, making it a murky facsimile of twilight. Watari steeled himself for whatever was going to appear in that circle. It was probably the root of this problem anyways.
A disturbingly large magpie floated down lazily and landed in the center of the empty space. Suddenly, Watari could hear a sick, disturbing song in the air. A malevolent shanty that was somehow terrible and beautiful at the same time.
/One's sorrow, two's mirth.../
The magpie grew larger, the shape distorted.
/Three's a wedding, four's a birth.../
Watari held his breath, ignoring the few, bolder birds that raked their claws against his face. The cuts healed and he watched as the pie became decidedly less bird shaped--droves of birds were flying into the black shapeless mass, to be absorbed.
/Five's a christening, six a dearth.../
A mass of white, black, and irridecence, eight feet tall and growing--yet thin and wiry, spindly.
/Seven's heaven, eight is hell.../
He could see claws, long and sharp like black obsidian. the form hunched over and suddenly three pairs of wings erupted from the demon's back. Six in all--black and white, larger, elegant counterparts to the wings of the magpies all around.
/And nine's the devil his old self.../
Suddenly the birds were silent.
A face that was slightly human, mostly bird, and all monster looked down on him.
"Hello Shinigami."
Watari shivered. That voice was scary. It was smooth and low, yet it crackled and fizzled around the edges. Like hot oil dripping down onto a hot plate. No, that was wrong. It was that there was so much power in this being, mere sound alone could not contain it.
"What do you want, oh Hound of Hades?"
Watari steeled himself, locking his fear out of sight. The demon was..not exactly ugly, but not beautiful either. Watari had the sneaking suspicion though, that it had an 'irresistable bishonen form' that demons so love inhabiting. However, the current purpose was to scare, to intimidate. Watari mentally saluted the demon for chosing such a mode--human enough to understand, but demon enough to frighten. The mouth was a particularly interestng hybrid. The upper half a beak, with the lower half being a human lip. "I am here to stop you. Return the souls you have stolen and go back to your Hell." There was the harsh laughter (echoed by the birds), touched by breathiness.
"Why should I bow to your whims? So where is your friend--I am assuming there is one other. Shinigami fly in pairs of twos after all."
Watari smiled, "Sorry, you're not important enough to warrent that." The demon smiled back, although there was notheing remotely close to warmth in it.
"If you think that, then you have no idea who you are up against, do you little death god? I am one of the Proud Prince's own. I am an elite, far beyond any petty little hobgoblin you may have run across. And that includes darling little Sagatanasu." The demon made a sneering face, difficult to do with half a beak for a mouth. "What a fool. He got no worse than he deserved."
By this point Watari's knees were trembling. Oh gods, if he thinks Saga was a weakling...
I am in so. much. trouble...
He was going to die.
He was going to die again, and there was nothing to stop it. The demon made it's way to the temple and ripped down the wall, rearranging it into a throne of sorts. Oddly, the bright red laquer on the wood turned white and silver. The demon sat.
"You will find however, that I am not unsporting, and I will allow you a chance to entertain me. If you impress me, why I might even consider giving up a few of those poor, precious souls." Watari found this highly unlikely, but anything that postponed his immediate death was a point in his favor.
"Let's see how you measure up against my pets...Against my murder of magpies."
After the demon's transformation, there were about one and a half score of birds left. A dozen or so stayed by their master, perched on his makeshift throne like sinister gargoyles. Their compatriots chattered angrily as they swooped down on Watari.
Watari cursed his long hair because it gave them more to grab and pull with their raking claws. Suddenly, a little army of beaks and talons were scratching at him, at his skin. Their attacks were so vigorous, so pernicious that they actually destroyed three fuda talismen before Watari could get one activated.
"Padipa Puja! Anumodana no maha jayamangala gatha!" A flare of light encircled Watari, blastaing away his offenders in a burst of singed feathers and blood. A few bird corpses that weren't completely immolated fell to the ground a few feet away--never to fly again.
Watari cringed as he felt an immense flare of spiritual energy, human energy. It peaked and died. The implications were unmistakable. Watari gasped and dropped to his knees, blood dripping down into his eyes, but his collapse had nothing to do with his injuries that were slowly closing. It was because he had just killed the vessels for the stolen souls without realizing it. The demon was chuckling at him, enjoying his obvious anguish.
The Shinigami cursed and spun around with tears stinging his eyes, to face his shirlly laughing tormentor. How did I--? How did I not sense them? The demon waved its onyx claws lazily.
"You'll have to forgive me. It's such an old, easy trick. One drop of Lucifer's blood produces almost endless possibilities. They're so much easier to control, to morph, to bend, to break... And the presence of his blood so easily masks the presence of a soul."
Yutaka felt sick, he wanted to puke, but there was really no time for him to be ill. I-I just ... I just destroyed those souls! Human souls! O-obliterated! I should have remembered! Magpies supposedly carry a drop of Satan's--or I guess Lucifer's--blood under their tongues. Stupid Watari! Stupid! Stupid! STUPID! "K-Khamaya..cana..."
"No, there is to be no forgivness for you little one. I daresay King Enma will have a few words to say when you get back. My my, twenty three souls gone forever. You would make a great demon Shinigami. Have you ever considered a change of vocation?" Watari was crying openly now, trembling with rage. He didn't care. That demon was wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Watari was different! He was better than him!
Watari couldn't think, he felt himself screaming as a firey rage took over his senses. He ran at the demon, heedless of the amused smile and the second wave of birds.
These magpies were larger, and the demonic aura was stronger around them. Their claws raked deeper, their cuts bleed more, and didn't want to heal as fast. Watari didn't notice. He was beyond rational thought. He screamed again in anguish. Half a dozen paper talismen appeared and suddenly the birds were all dead, fallen to the ground and smoking slightly. (Thankfully this time, there was no flare of human energy afterwards.) Watari breathed heavily, no less angry, but feeling a little dizzy. He looked down at his body, his torn clothes. There was so much blood...
He looked up at the demon and his anger faltered for a moment. It didn't look amused anymore.
The scientist coughed a little and began another buddhist mantra in his mind. Om mani padme hum. Om mani padme hum. Om mani padme hum...
It helped drown out the hurtful words of the demon, and the even more painful blows it landed
But it couldn't block them out completely.
It was then, during this battle, at his wit's end, out of fuda charms that Watari discovered something.
Giving life to drawings made out of his own blood made them a lot more powerful.
It also took a lot more energy.
Nine for silver...
With the demon defeated, and his blood-dragons gone, Watari stagared to the Torii gate in front of the temple in a haze. Clinging to the wood as though his afterlife depened on it, Watari thought of the Ministry, of Hisoka, Tsuzuki, Konoe, and the Gushoshin. Of 003. Of Tatsumi. Tears slid from his eyes without notice, and Watari dissapeared from the realm of the living.
Ten for Gold...
He was so...lost. Everything hurt. Where was he?
All he could hear were the hateful words and epitaths of the demon.
It was so dark and lonely.
He saw himself in his labcoat, which was suddenly spattered with black. He grew wings, black and opalescent. The sight made him scream, but he didn't know why. He couldn't remember...couldn't remember...
What else couldn't he remember? He knew there was something important he had forgotten...
He thought he felt someone holding him. He stiffened, then struggled, screaming again. Don't touch me! Get away! It'll swallow you too! Don't touch me! I'll kill you! Don't! Don't! Let me go! I'm not like you..!
He stopped screaming when he realized the touch was niether malevolent nor going away. He could almost hear someone calling to him.
Watari...
"Watari?" Was that his name?
Watari...
Oh that's right...His name was Watari. He was a Shinigami.
Watari...
Huh. Who was calling him? The voice sounded familiar.. but who..? Who would want to call him? He was a murderer, worse than even. He was a faliure. More fit to be a demon than a Shinigami. That devil had recognized him as one of their own.. hadn't it said something like that?
Watari you idiot.
Yeah sounds about right..wait a minute. That voice! That was.. Tatsumi...wasn't it?
Was that Tatsumi carressing his hair?
Watari Yutaka you idiotic fool. Why didn't you call for help?
No, he must be imagining that. Why would ice prince Tatsumi take care of him? Wasn't there a medic in Security?
You've made us all very worried you know.
Sorry.
If you don't wake up soom I.. I shall have to dock your pay you know. You hear me Watari? I'm telling you, as your boss, to wake up.
I am awake...aren't I?
No... no I'm not. Where am I? Who is this... 'I'? Is this my inner monolouge or is it just.. me? Or is it the real me...? Or is it---
Yutaka please wake up.
Huh? No... you're definitly not Tatsumi...I'm going to go away now... Good night.. whoever.
Watari dreamt and had nightmares. Nightmares comrpised of white and black.
Eleven for a Secret...
Watari woke up, dazed and disoriented, and a more than a little sore all over. He frowned.
Why am I in the infirmary? Did I blow up the lab again? Did one of my potions get loose? Did I.. Oh. Watari turned his head and thanked the foresight of whoever it was and emptied his stomach into the trashcan there.
Memories hit him in a rush, and he still wasn't quite prepared to deal with all of them yet. Watari trembled, eyes gathering tears.
"Here. Take this." A cup of water was thrust into view. Watari took it and swished his mouth twice, spitting the water into the plastic garbage can, ridding his mouth of the bitter taste. The cup was refilled and Watari drank it all in one go.
"Nice but it needs a little vodka." Konoe shook his head.
"I don't think so 'Drinky,' you should lay off the booze for awhile." Watari pouted and flipped over on his back again,
"I thought Tsuzuki was Drinky." The cheif snorted,
"Watari, please. I've seen the two of you. You drink alcohol like it were water." The scientist felt the need to defend his propensity for drinking,
"Technically, all the stuff I drink does in fact contain--"
"Watari, kid, do us both a favor and stop talking. It's late. You need to go back to sleep. I'll take care of this, alright?" The blonde nodded and watched his superior as he took the bin out with him.
"Sorry about...you know."
"It's fine Watari. Everyone eventually has a case where they do this." With that the cheif left.
"But it's not fine." Watari whimpered. he stared at the ceiling. Sleeping did not sound like a very pleasant option right now, but being awake didn't hold much appeal either. Damnit, I wish I didn't think so much. His eyes fell on the beside table and widened.
Every curse and every single diety Watari had ever heard of passed his lips--which was quite a few. After several minutes worth of oaths, Watari's hands darted out in practiced cleptomania.
It. Was. A. Tie.
More importantly, it was one of Tatsumi's ties. (Watari didn't know it, but the secretary had removed it, after nearly being strangled by it during one of Watari's convulsions.) No other tie could have that faint tang of ink, and that wonderful, heavenly smell of books and paper--like libraries and bookstores. No one else wore a tie that had diagonal stripes that were chosen because it had the best and cheapest dye-to-cloth-cover ratio. No tie but Tatsumi's would be expertly pressed, and yet still a little worn around the neck, where thirty or forty years of knotting worked away the threads, beacuse it was still servicable and not worth it to buy a new one just yet.
A silly little smile worked its way onto his face.
The tie dissapeared under his pillow. Suddenly, Watari felt very, very satisfied. And he felt good enough that he might even be able to get a bit of sleep.
When Watari woke up again a few hours later, he heard someone coming. His eyes closed again. Maybe he would drift off, maybe he wouldn't.
When Tatsumi came in, Watari knew it, even without looking. He did however, miss the confused gaze that the secretary gave the nightstand, before shrugging and walking over to sit next to him on a pre-situated stool.
Gold looked up as azure looked down. They stared quietly for a moment. Watari decided to smile. It made his lips bleed.
"Hey Tatsumi." Something undecipherable passed across his face before he answered.
"Hey Watari." The blonde shifted and (guessing his intentions) Tatsumi helped him sit up, strong hands gently guiding his sore muscles. The scientist wordlessly assesed his injuries. He was silent for a moment. Then,
"I guess I screwed up, huh?" Tatsumi was taken aback by this decleration,
"Watari, what do you mean? You held your own against one of Lucifer's chosen." Normally, he would have glowed at the compliment from the object of his...obsession? (Because the scientist most certainly did not harbor any warm, fuzzy, melty feelings for the man.) However, it only made him nonplussed and all the more thoughtful. Watari shrugged and grinned for the benefit of his coworker. No point in making him worried,
"I dunno. It seemed like the right thing to say."
"Watari..." He widened his smile. Come on! Everyone falls for my smiles! "What did that demon say to you?" Watari gaped at him for a second before brooding over his answer. Stupid, perceptive bastard.
"Nothing I can't handle with enough time, Tatsumi." Probably true, but that didn't make it any less painful in the meantime. Tatsumi's hand came to rest on his shoulder.
"'Tari..." He liked that nickname, Tatsumi decided. The loss of the first syllable was an accident, but he liked it. It suited his friend. Watari blinked at him, then changed the subject.
"'M tired. You don't happen to have a hair tie do you?" Mechanically, Tatsumi drew one out from his breast-coat pocket. "Thanks." Watari took it without thought and started to tie back his hair. they both froze, and Watari was suddenly very much awake. He finished his knot and then fixed Tatsumi with a serious eye. Son of a bitch! That missing hair tie had been driving him insane!
The secretary bit his lip, wishing very much for escape.
"Tatsumi..?" The secretary looked up and, for Tatsumi, looked positivly fearful. "Is there something you're not telling me...?" (Here Watari ignored his conscience, and the fact that his boss' tie was hiding underneath his pillow.)
...Never to be told.
The secretary cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Well..."
Watari raised a brow archly.
This would have to be good.
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Yay! Second chapter done! One more, and I promise it will be happy, and squeeful, and fluff-worthy XD
I am so mean to Watari DD":
I-I'm sorry :hugs scientist: Please forgive me! I love you! You're my favorite character--despite what I do to you! T-T
Once again sorry about the delay, but I think it was worth it, yes? I liked that demon though. So cool!
'Kay, fixed some typos and stuff
