Chapter title, "Kago ni Uguisu" means "Caged Nightengale"

Kago ni Uguisu

Hisoka returned to his desk, opening the case file and setting it down in front of him so that he could look more closely at what they were dealing with. These murders – and he was certain that they were murders, with the way the corpses were defiled – were brutal and … Almost … strangely familiar … but he couldn't figure out why. It also didn't make much sense to him that they were being given what looked like a pretty heavy case on their first real job outside of the office since Kyoto … Up until this point, other Shinigami had been assigned to any big cases that broke out in Kyushu, which weren't many admittedly, but … Odd that they were being assigned to this case now; somehow it seemed to Hisoka that this wasn't going to be your average, catch-the-demon-and-banish-it sort of case. It didn't help that Tatsumi had mentioned something about an Angel; he knew they existed, or at least were reported to, but they were extremely rare, and he himself had never heard of a case involving one …

The blond Shinigami was so engrossed in reading the files inside the manila envelope, staring at the grotesque pictures of the bodies, trying to figure out why he felt like he had seen them before, that a sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump slightly, though he managed to bite his tongue so that the rather undignified 'yelp' couldn't escape him like it wanted to. Green eyes only slightly wider than normal turned to face the offender, who was none other than Tsuzuki; when he realized that, the same eyes narrowed in annoyance, and he brushed his partner's hand off with a stern,

"What?" before turning back to the file in front of him to keep flipping through it. The small flicker of hurt bothered Hisoka more than he'd like to admit, but he had already reacted; there was nothing he could do about it now … He was just not pleased that he'd been so caught off guard.

"Ah … Nee … Hiskoa; it's lunch time – you've been staring at that file for almost four hours …" Hisoka blinked twice – four hours? There was no way it had been that long … Shooting a disbelieving glance up at the clock on the office wall, he paused, realizing that Tsuzuki was right – it was 1:00, he had arrived at work around 8:30, and the briefing had taken them until about 9:00 … Huh; time flies when you're having fun …? Hisoka thought to himself sarcastically as he stretched a little, neck creaking from being in the same position for much longer than the blonde had realized.

After about two minutes of continuing to sit there, Hisoka realized that Tsuzuki wasn't going away. Sighing in frustration, he didn't turn to look at the brunet that was probably not much better than a foot away from him; instead he just asked in a less sharp tone, "what, Tsuzuki?"

"Well, I told you – it's lunch time," the violet eyed male behind him; the green eyed teenager didn't even seem to hear him, but that didn't deter his partner – Tsuzuki continued as if the blond had said something along the lines of 'yeah, so?' "So … I was thinking that we could go and get something to eat!" Hisoka's brow furrowed slightly; normally, when they were confined to desk work, they left each other to their own devices – the blond didn't like to spend money out of pocket on restaurants or fast food; it was much cheaper to buy from a grocer and make something if he was hungry.

Come on; please say yes – I don't know when the last time you ate a decent meal was, and now with this case and all—

That was all Hisoka needed to hear. Obviously Tsuzuki had forgotten to block himself off because the blond hadn't even been trying to hear what the brunet was thinking, but that nauseating worry that was splashing over him in waves wasn't exactly easy to ignore, and Tsuzuki must've been hoping pretty desperately for the blond to accept for those thoughts to come through so loud and clear without any extra effort on the sixteen year old's part …

"I'm not a child, Tsuzuki," he half growled, annoyed. "When I'm hungry, I'll eat." His tone was dismissive, as he usually was with his partner, and left little room for argument – though he was surprised how long his partner stood there behind him, clearly wanting to say something, anything, to get the blond to come with him, but already knowing that any prodding would not be easily forgiven.

"Alright 'Soka – I just thought maybe you'd like to eat out for once, you know, before we get started on this case tomorrow—"

"We'll have plenty of time to eat out while we're on the case; I'm not taking time out of preparing just to waste time and money on something foolish." Hisoka cut him off curtly, and that was the end of the conversation. Something in his chest twisted when he felt the pang of hurt that came from the violet eyed shinigami as he turned and walked away, and he felt the sharp urge to turn and apologize for what he'd said … He didn't know why he'd dismissed Tsuzuki so harshly; it had just … Come out that way … He'd sort of guiltily noticed that he had been much more short with his partner recently than he used to be, and that was saying something … Turning back to the file in front of him, he sighed in frustration and flicked it shut hard enough that he heard the bones in his thin wrist crack a little, but he ignored it as he laced his fingers together, propping his elbows on his desk and pressing his chin against his hands.

Staring off into space wasn't helping; he realized this fact after about fifteen minutes. It was just making him think about Tsuzuki, and that always made him feel weird. Weird in a sort of sick, confused, hot, uncomfortable way – and now there was a heavy helping of guilt caked on the side; but that seemed to be happening a lot lately. The blond had stopped trying to untangle the unpleasant web of emotions that he harbored surrounding his partner, and had instead just sectioned that part of himself off with red tape and took as few trips there as possible … Sighing again, he stood and stretched, wincing as his stiff body protested the foreign movement, glancing at his partner's desk, where the books from the Gushoshin were sitting, still neatly stacked. (Though that was the only neat thing about Tsuzuki's desk …)

Reaching over, he picked a couple of them up, deciding that he still wanted to prepare for this case, but he needed a change of scenery, as it were. Setting the books on his own desk, he resumed his position in his chair, his legs and back burning slightly from the movement after sitting still for so long as he started to read the book on the top of the stack …

Black; everything is black …

Is there someone standing there …?

Even though my body is tired, and it feels like I'm walking through a waist deep swamp, I move towards something stark white against the darkness … It's so sharp in contrast that I can't help looking at it; it's almost like I'm being drawn to it.

As I approach, the figure turns; she is whiter than paper, than bone, and her eyes are staring, huge and black – frightening. Her stringy black hair is falling over her shoulders, and over her red yukata.

"Hello …?" I ask uncertainly; she says nothing in acknowledgement, but her lips curve upwards in a slow, long smile, though they remain firmly pressed together – I feel tendrils of uneasiness twisting around in my gut. Something is wrong.

"Are you alright …?" I hear myself ask. She doesn't answer. Instead she slowly opens her mouth, and a long, black tongue with a thousand glinting silver needles lolls out; my heart leaps in disgust as I notice that the black of her eyes glints too – were there always needles there, or did they just now appear? … A waterfall of blood flows from her defiled corpse as it falls towards me, reaching out to me, and I hear a whisper that I can't quite understand …

Hisoka jolted slightly, disoriented, and unsure of where he was for a few seconds. However, once he identified the background noise he was hearing as the familiar sound of his partner snoring, he remembered. He was in the run down little hotel room that Tatsumi had rented for them not too far away from where they would be working in the morning. Dragging himself into a sitting position, he pressed his eyes closed for a moment, trying to get rid of the spots that were dancing in front of them, staring at the rise and fall of his partner's body as he breathed heavily in his sleep.

Had he been dreaming?

He couldn't remember.

Frowning slightly, he paused, thinking back for a long moment; no, he really couldn't remember if he'd been dreaming or not. He supposed he could have been; it was probably that stupid falling dream that people sometimes had, which would explain why he had jolted awake so suddenly. Reaching up and pressing his fingers to the side of his head, tangling them in his hair a little, he glanced at the little alarm clock that sat between his futon and Tsuzuki's. According to the harsh red numbers that it took a few moments for Hisoka to focus on, it was four-thirty in the morning.

Getting out of bed slowly and quietly, he went into the bathroom for a few minutes before exiting, being sure to turn the light out before he opened the door so he would be less likely to wake his partner. It was bothering him that he couldn't remember if he'd been dreaming – sure, not knowing was better than the nightmares that normally plagued him, or at the very least more merciful, but … It unnerved him a little, because he was sure he'd been …

Well whatever; it didn't matter.

Laying down proved to be a fruitless venture – his mind was too frustratingly distracted to allow him a moment's peace to try and get back to sleep for the last couple hours he had before they had to get up and go to the house. After a few rounds of light tossing and turning did nothing to alleviate his wakefulness, he sighed, defeated, and pulled himself up, making his way over to his bag and digging around in it before removing his clothing and mechanically replacing it with his uwagi and hakama. Getting up from his crouched position, he paused, turning to look at Tsuzuki's prone form for a long moment before shaking his head a little despite himself. He was convinced his partner could sleep through anything, be it a mosquito bite or an earthquake.

Baka, he thought to himself in a much more fond way than when he used the word aloud before turning and picking up his worn rubber-soled jikatabi and shinai, and then heading outside. This particular ryokan was sorely lacking any sort of courtyard, unless you counted the rather pitiful excuse for a garden in the back of the building – but, there was an expanse of field further behind that, and while the grass was tall, and that would hinder his movement slightly, it would be the acceptable place to practice.

Stepping outside, he put his shoes on at the door before turning and closing it behind himself, breathing in the chilly morning air. It was early May, so it was still cold out at this time of day, but Hisoka didn't mind; the air felt like sharp little pin pricks against his skin, and if he wasn't awake before, he certainly was now. Silently, he moved across the small yard in the near darkness; the sun had yet to hint that it was coming over the horizon yet, but the world was light enough that he could make out most things without difficulty, which he proved when he deftly avoided two statues and carefully started to pick his way through the tall grass of the field.

After stretching, he started his basic warm up, his body mechanically going through the motions with the painstaking precision of someone who had been trained extensively in the art; his mind however … he focused on every single movement of his shinai – every movement of his feet. Every breath that escaped his chest. It had become a sort of routine for him after what had happened in Kyoto; whenever he woke up, which for a long time had been often, he would practice – either until he had to stop to go to work, if it was one of those days, or until he felt like he could fall back asleep without laying there and thinking … Funny that now, even though he hadn't had a nightmare, he was still following this strange little ritual; there was a strong compulsion he felt to do this every single day, for as long as he could spare time.

As said compulsion wasn't detrimental to his work or health, he hadn't found a reason to argue with it, so he had just allowed it to continue, as he did now, methodically and carefully moving in repetitions, not noticing when the sun started to slowly slip up over the horizon …

"Hisoka," a quiet voice caused him to freeze mid-motion, arms above his head, hips pushed forward, startled by the unexpected noise. Letting his arms fall and turning to face where the sound had come from, he saw Tsuzuki standing there, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, which was a really strange thing to see when he was used to his partner wearing suit pants and white button-downs underneath that black trench coat that could have been surgically attached to him and no one would know the difference. The blond's breath came out in sharp pants; he didn't know how long he'd been practicing, but he had been working hard – he was just realizing now that his throat burned and he had a tenseness in his arms and legs that he should probably stretch out again.

"Uh," his partner started awkwardly after a long silence, "it's getting to be kind of late … So, if you want to get changed and then some breakfast, we have to head over to the house in an hour or so …?" Green eyes watched violet for a few moments, and he found himself wondering how long the brunet had been standing there watching him. For some reason, he felt like it was a long while; perhaps because he didn't know Hisoka practiced kendo …? Then again, he shouldn't be surprised, since he knew that the blonde was trained in archery. (1)

A nod was the only response he gave to Tsuzuki after a bit of a pause, and he put his shinai on his shoulder, turning and starting towards the ryokan, and subsequently, his partner. "You were focusing pretty hard," Tsuzuki commented as he turned to start walking with the blond, "how long have you been out here for …?" he asked the question casually, but the tone of his voice didn't distract Hisoka from the attention that is partner was paying to him; it was focused, almost scrutinizing, as he waited for an answer. A small scowl appeared on the blond's face unbidden; did Tsuzuki think he was going to lie …?

"I don't know; what time is it?" he asked almost flippantly, not being mean, just a little aloof, which was normal. Why does he think I'd lie to him …? The thought was irritated as it crossed his mind. Sitting down on the step outside of the door, he carefully removed his shoes, standing and turning to go inside a moment later.

"Um … Almost 6:00 when I came out here …?" the response told him that Tsuzuki hadn't considered that Hisoka would ask about the time; which meant he did think his partner was going to just give him some arbitrary answer. Opening the door to their room, Hisoka shrugged.

"An hour or so then," was all he said, pointedly not fabricating the answer in any way as he closed the door behind him, which also meant he'd closed his idiot partner outside of the room as well. There was a bit of a pause before what almost sounded like a puppy scratching it's paws on the door to be let in – before he realized that that was actually Tsuzuki, and he was probably crouched on the floor outside the door where the blond had left him.

"Hisoka~~ …" he whined, still making that pathetic pawing gesture … And for some reason, Hisoka couldn't help the small hint of a smile that crossed his face; he could perfectly envision what his partner looked like on the other side of the door without actually seeing him, and the fact that he could feel the slightly teasing, pouty-playfulness coming off of Tsuzuki wasn't helping him stay in a bad mood.

"Oh!" the blond blinked and paused mid way through pulling on a clean t-shirt, startled by the other shinigami's sudden outburst. He looked partially back over his shoulder, as though somehow he could see what his partner was doing through the door, which he could not. "There's some sunblock on the counter in the bathroom – you should use it!"

"I'll be fine," he responded as he pulled his t-shirt over his head roughly, pausing a moment to stretch a little before sitting down and pulling on his socks.

"But – you're really pale, Hisoka! What if you get a sunburn?" Baka; Shinigami don't get sunburned … Our healing factor cancels it out … he thought to himself with a mental sigh, but he didn't say anything about it – just proceeded to pretend he couldn't hear his partner on the other side of the door telling him that it would be a good idea to put it on just in case … He valiantly ignored this mothering partner, reaching behind his bag and picking up one of the bottles of water out of the case that he had picked up at the grocer the night before for himself and automatically grabbing a second for his partner, before exiting the room …

They arrived at the house, and much like the photographs they had seen in during their briefing, it looked sound enough – except for the yard work. Following Tsuzuki up the front walk, it was about the only thing that wasn't overgrown, the stones still discernible from the rest of the yard. Glancing around in disdain, Hisoka came to a halt a step or so behind his partner; he could definitely sense something here … That immediately put him on edge – because whatever it was, it was big, that much he could tell …

"—pleased to meet you," he caught the tail end of a sentence, and shook his head slightly, bringing himself back to reality in time to bend at the waist in a bow. Awkwardly tilting his head, he tried to see who he was addressing, though the voice had been male, so he was assuming it was Ikeda Muchiro, the husband basically holding his wife captive. Politely standing a few moments after the man who was partially inside of the house, he didn't pay attention to what Tsuzuki was saying when he realized that he was talking about the work they were going to be doing there. While his partner was distracting the husband, Hisoka could see if he got any impressions from the house or what was inside.

Green eyes closed as he reached out cautiously, almost patting around inside the residence, pushing his awareness out to see if he could find anything … However, for as big as that presence was in there … It was strangely elusive – every time he tried to 'touch' it, or get anywhere near it really, it shied away, or evaded him completely … To the point that the blond was staring to get frustrated. Whatever it was, it was aware of him, and it was skittish … Then, there was a frail presence – he was sure that it was Aneko. The best way for him to describe her presence was white, and thin; like wisps of smoke from an incense burner. It was obvious to him that she wasn't still supposed to be in this world … And yet, there she was, a few rooms back, hiding from prying eyes, though not prying minds …

"—ight, Hisoka?" Again the blond jumped, blinking rapidly; the sound of Tsuzuki's voice had startled him pretty sharply, not to mention the weight of a hand on his thankfully cloth-covered shoulder. He had been concentrating on trying to figure out what else was around, and see if he could sense any other presences besides the man before them, his wife, and whatever was in the house now, and so, he was pretty open – and it was hard for him to close off quickly. If Tsuzuki had touched his skin, it might've been bad.

"Huh?" came his rather intelligent response; he needed a second to gather himself, and he had no idea what in the world Tsuzuki had been talking about previous to asking whatever it was he was asking, so …

"I said, we'll clear out the yard today and then decide what to do when that's finished," Tsuzuki said, and as it was, his worry and curiosity were pressing down on him so hard that he was starting to get nauseated. Waving a hand at the brunet to signify that he wanted his partner to let go of him, he nodded, resisting the urge to press on the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah; that makes sense – making everything a clean slate will take at least a day or two anyway, so you'll have more time to decide what you want the finished product to look like," he said in agreement, glancing at Ikeda Muchiro. His presence in itself was a little overwhelming; he was definitely much more … substantial than his wife was. To the point that it was a little over bearing – he had been ignoring it before, but now that he'd been snapped out of his concentration, he was having a hard time getting around noticing it.

Green eyes met dark brown, and he saw them narrow slightly as a wave of mistrust and suspicion hit him what felt like squarely between the eyes – he managed to stay upright though, and didn't stagger backwards, but just barely. Geeze; what is this guy's problem? Hisoka thought irritably, averting his gaze and trying to make the planks of the porch beneath his feet stop moving before his eyes.

"Excellent," he said congenially before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a business card holder. Removing a couple of them, he offered them to the two Shinigami before him, explaining, "my wife's health is fragile right now, so I would appreciate it if you would call my cell phone or the office if I'm not home and you have any questions on the work." Tsuzuki agreed easily as they both pocketed the cards, acting like this wasn't out of the ordinary at all, though Hisoka could feel a vague tendril of irritation, probably because that just made their job a little more difficult. They couldn't even use the excuse that they had a question and Muchiro wasn't home so they could talk to Aneko … But they'd find a way.

Stepping out into the yard past Tsuzuki and Hisoka, he held out a hand to gesture to the tall weeds that were growing up through the gravel and what was once cedar-mulch on the grounds, saying something … But the blond wasn't paying attention. The eternally sixteen year old could swear he felt something watching him from the house, though he pretended not to notice for a few moments … Before suddenly turning, green eyes snapping in the direction the feeling was coming from – and from around the corner, he could see very long, dark hair, sickly pale skin, and one dark eye that widened slightly when it met his green … Before the figure ducked out of view.

The blond's brow furrowed before he was distracted by Tsuzuki calling him, holding up what looked like an old sickle used for harvesting wheat …

"Ironic huh? Two Shinigami using scythes …?" Tsuzuki joked about an hour after they had started. Hisoka didn't think it was funny. Breath coming in sharp little huffs, he swung the blade in his hands again, cutting down more stalks of weeds lower to the ground before waving a hand dismissively at a bee. Muchiro had told them that there was a wasp's nest around here somewhere, because quite a few of them buzzed around the yard at all times, and they weren't helping Hisoka's irritation, not unlike his partner. "Awww come on 'Soka … Admit it's funny …"

"It's not," he said between pants, shooting a glare at his partner. Tsuzuki hadn't even broken a sweat yet. Stupid lazy partner … the blond thought, getting more annoyed before savagely swinging the scythe in his hands again and hacking down more weeds – the good news was that they had made a sizeable dent in the grass. The bad news was that after they got them cut down low enough, they had to go over it with essentially a lawn mower, and then they had to dig it out of the ground depending on Muchiro's landscaping ideas …

"Tsuzuki," he muttered, about to reprimand his partner for not doing his fair share – but, when he turned around, he realized that his partner was actually hacking away at the tall grass and weeds, a look of determined concentration on his face. Green eyes blinked twice before he looked away from him, pausing to breathe for a moment and look up. Shielding his face with a hand, he swatted at a bee that came a little too close to him as saw that the sun had come up more quickly than he'd thought it would, and that wasn't making this any easier – it hadn't been so bad when they had started, but with the addition of the fiery orb in the sky, it was proving to get more and more difficult. Not to mention the repetitious movement, not unlike one he had already indulged in that morning, was making his arms, back, and legs ache unpleasantly.

"If you want to take a break, 'Soka," Tsuzuki started, apparently having noticed that the blond had stopped working, and green eyes immediately narrowed at him.

"I'm fine," Hisoka said, resuming his work with a scowl. He could feel his partner's surprise at his reaction, but he didn't care – he wasn't a child. He could do just as much work as anyone else.

"Oh – I just meant … … Ok; nevermind," the brunet said after a pause, defeated and turning back to the tall grass that was still in want of hacking.

"I just … This is stupid," Hisoka said after a moment, not liking the chastised feeling that was coming off of the older Shinigami standing next to him, even if he had technically been after that reaction in the first place. The new spring of confusion at the blond's words was tangible to him, and he clarified, "this isn't helping our case at all – we're just wasting time doing this …"

"Well," Tsuzuki started after a moment, resuming swinging his blade, "the idea is, we wait for him to leave; and at the same time, if we do good work, he'll start to trust us. I don't really think he does right now." Hisoka scoffed at that statement.

"Yeah; I don't either." His partner raised an eyebrow, but he didn't make any more comments, and the blond didn't offer to explain; he didn't think he needed to. But, at this rate they were getting nowhere fast; he was working hard enough that he couldn't concentrate on trying to probe around and figure out what that presence was in the house, or concentrate on anything else for that matter …

"Ouch!" the blond jumped slightly as he heard Tsuzuki exclaim, and he blinked at the taller male, who now had hand on his arm and was wincing. Raising a finely arched eyebrow at Tsuzuki, Hisoka asked,

"What?" And his tone suggested he was a little more concerned than his facial expression let on. Tsuzuki let his hand fall away from as arm, and the blond could see the beginnings of an angry red mark starting to form on his partner's skin. The violet eyed shinigami made a slight whining noise, attempting to see the newly formed blemish and having a hard time because of the angle it was at.

"Bee sting ..." he said mournfully, and Hisoka rolled his eyes before resuming work; he had actually been concerned for a moment. One bee sting wasn't anything to be worried about though, especially when it was a Shinigami that had been stung ...

Glancing over his shoulder towards the house as he paused between slashes, ignoring Tsuzuki's vocalizations of the pain from his minor injury, Hisoka's brow furrowed again – the curtain moved, as if someone had just been holding it open, and quickly let go when they saw him turn around …

"Come on, 'Sokaaaaa …"It was about noon when they finally finished hacking down the grass and weeds enough that they could cut them normally and Tsuzuki declared that he wanted lunch, because all of this work was making him hungry. How can he even think about food …? The blond thought almost incredulously; he was so hot and his throat was so parched he couldn't even think about putting something into his system without gagging.

"I'm not hungry," he snapped at his partner's insistence that they stop. He just wanted to get this over with so they could do some actual investigating. However, suddenly the sickle in his hands was grabbed and dragged away from him, and slightly hazy green eyes narrowed in a glare at his partner … But Tsuzuki wasn't budging. He knew that expression, and that feeling coming off of him; he was resolved, and arguing with him was only going to start a fight, because he was going to dig his heels in until he got what he wanted. Sighing, he didn't say anything; he just rolled his eyes, deftly moving away from another wasp that was suddenly near to his face, the loud buzzing annoying him, before he moved to follow his partner, who immediately clapped his hands together after setting the blond's sickle down, excited that they were going to eat. Or that he had won without a scrimmage. Hisoka honestly wasn't sure.

The sixteen year old walked in silence to the restaurant, ignoring Tsuzuki's inane chatter as they went; he wasn't feeling well, which probably had something to do with the fact that his hair was plastered to his face with sweat, and he'd only had the one bottle of water he'd brought with him to drink in the past five hours. However, they made it to the establishment that his partner was leading them to without mishap and were seated a few minutes later. Sipping the glass of water that the bus boy put on the table in front of him, his tongue curled around an ice cube that might as well have been frozen ambrosia it was so delicious, and he couldn't help sighing in the back of his throat.

Glancing out the window, he didn't listen when Tsuzuki started rambling about what looked good on the menu. Absently, he watched someone ride by on a bicycle, and his thoughts wandered back to that presence he felt in the house. He couldn't place what it was exactly – the only words he could use to describe it were 'a lot' and 'big', and that wasn't exactly the most eloquent way to put it.

"—soka, are you listening?" Tsuzuki's voice caught his attention as there was a sudden pressure on his hand, which made him withdraw it quickly with a hiss. He realized a moment later that it was just his partner taking his hand, and violet eyes blinked at him in confusion. Honestly, Hisoka was confused too; why had that hurt so much …?

After a few moments of scrutiny, Tsuzuki's eyes widened a little and he reported quietly, "I … didn't notice before but … 'Soka … I think you're starting to get a sunburn …" Green eyes flickered down to the back of his hand, which he was holding with his other hand and … Sure enough, the milky skin on the palm of one hand was nowhere near as pink as the skin on the back of the other. Scowling at the table in front of him, he waited for his partner to say something along the lines of 'I told you so' or 'see?' but … Well, after a long pause nothing came. The scowl softened slightly with his confusion, and he glanced up cautiously at his partner, who wasn't looking at him …

"So, have you decided what you want?" green eyes flickered over towards the waitress he hadn't noticed, and he turned to look back out the window, his untouched menu still sitting on the end of the table where it had been placed when they were seated.

"I think I'll have the nikujaga, and my friend will have the shimabara nabe," (2) the seventy-year Shinigami said, smiling at the waitress and handing her his menu. She bowed and started off as Hisoka stared at Tsuzuki.

"Wait no –I … Dammit Tsuzuki," he said in annoyance as the waitress left, "I told you; I'm not hungry." He gave his partner a pointed look, and the brunette just grinned at him immodestly, shrugging his shoulders.

"…'Soka, you can't go all day working like this and not eat something – whether you're hungry or not, you need to eat—"

"I don't need you coddling me all the time, Tsuzuki - I'm not a little ki—"

"I never said you were." Hisoka paused as his partner interrupted him, shooting him a sideways glance; Tsuzuki had a slightly serious look on his face that sobered the blond's temper a bit … "And anyway; I wanted to ask you – you noticed something about the house; what was it?"

"There's something inside it," was all the green eyed Shinigami said at first, unsure of how to word his response to convey what he had felt. "I don't know what … But whatever it is, it's big."

"Powerful? Do you think it's a demon, or …?" Anxious, worry, suspense … He put up a solid wall between himself and the outside, including his partner; he didn't need to be any more overwhelmed.

"I don't know," he responded a moment later pensively, "I can't tell; whatever it is it's weirdly … Neutral. It's not malicious, or benevolent … It's just there … And it seems like no matter what I do, I can't get close enough to it to figure out what it is …" The brunet paused contemplatively for a moment, and Hisoka thought that his partner was going to say something uncharacteristically profound, so he waited patiently to see what it would be.

"Hmm …" Tsuzuki started, "that's strange." He finished the sentence so intelligently that a pair of green eyes rolled in response; of course it was strange – or else he wouldn't have mentioned it. More thinking ensued before eventually he did actually seem to come up with something – however, whatever it was it had to wait until after he was served; apparently what Tsuzuki had ordered for himself and Hisoka was in such high demand that they had it already made up, because that hadn't taken very long. As soon as the waitress set the food in front of the older shinigami, he started digging in – and Hisoka just watched him. Which he noticed eventually, because he paused to blink at the blond before he seemed to remember that he had been about to say something before he was given food and thus distracted from life, the universe, and everything. So, to remedy this as well as not lose any time eating, he made some string of garbled noises that were probably supposed to be words through a mouthful of his stew, to which the blond only raised an eyebrow because he hadn't any idea what Tsuzuki had said. The gesture was apparently understood, because the brunet finished his mouthful before trying again.

"What if you went to question those girls? The other ones that were supposed to have passed away?" Hisoka's brow furrowed – the two of them were supposed to do that together after they finished working that afternoon … Suspicious, since it was his partner that had first insisted they do it together, the blond prodded at Tsuzuki subtly. But Tsuzuki had a wall up, so the most he got was an echo of questioning whether or not Hisoka thought that was a good plan. Sighing, he sat back in his chair.

"Why would I do that? There's still work to be done at the house." He answered finally, sounding bored and having an equally uninspired expression on his face, complete with a raised eyebrow.

"Well," his partner started, swallowing again, "there really isn't any hurry to get everything done today – but we also can't blow off working this afternoon either, so one of us has to go back to work … It would make more sense for the other one to see what information we can get out of the survivors," he explained, watching Hisoka's face, "half the time, twice the work, right?"

"You just don't want me to work anymore today," Hisoka said slowly after a few moments as the realization dawned on him. "You don't think I can handle it!" Violet eyes widened, and he could feel Tsuzuki backpedaling behind that wall and starting to protest, but the blond had already seen through it.

"Oh no? Am I wrong? Fine – you go talk to those other six girls; I'll go back to work. You're better at talking to people anyway!" Ironically, he hadn't meant to yell the last part, but his voice had just naturally escalated as he started to lose his temper. Throwing up a stronger shield haphazardly when he felt the other customers in the restaurant staring at him, he stood sharply, nearly overturning his chair in the process. Ignoring Tsuzuki's attempt at an explanation, he fairly stormed out of the eating establishment, plate of food untouched, as promised…

Hisoka hadn't cooled down on the walk back to the house, even though he'd travelled on foot the entire way. That only served to fuel his work ethic as he pushed the cheaply rented walk behind lawn mower over the now much shorter grass and weeds, hacking it down to a much more normal height in preparation for their next set of tasks. Tatsumi hadn't even seen fit to rent a lawn mower with an actual motor in it; this was a metal cage on a handle that contained spinning blades that rotated as you pushed it . In all fairness, he had probably assumed that Tsuzuki would be the one using it – but that wasn't what ended up happening. No – he had ended up losing his temper because Tsuzuki was worried about him, and now he was stubbornly forcing his body into hard manual labor instead of finding Tsuzuki and apologizing to him.

After a full two hours of fighting with the old fashioned mower, he was fairly exhausted, and sighing heavily, Hisoka let go of the older-than-dirt contraption, sinking down at the base of a gnarled old pine tree, which offered him some shade. Apparently fatigue was good for calming down, because now instead of burning with anger he just felt like he was floating in a calm sea of guilt for yelling at Tsuzuki. He had been under the distinct impression that Shinigami couldn't get sunburned, hence his earlier comment, and ignoring his partner's suggestion to use the sunscreen … But evidently he had been wrong; his skin was now an angrier shade of pinkish-red than it had been at lunch, and it was starting to ache. He hadn't been aware that skin could ache.

Leaning back against the tree, he allowed his eyes to drift upwards, and saw where the source of the wasps must have been - there was a pretty good sized nest from what he could see nestled in the branches of the tree he was sitting under. Allowing his eyes close, as he wasn't worried about bees in the slightest, Hisoka attempted to slow his erratic heartbeat and sharp, ragged breaths. The mower had gotten stuck several times, and he had had to bodily remove it from whatever it was tangled in, take the grass and weeds that were stuck in it out, and then go back to what he was doing. At this point he just needed to rest for a few minutes – that was all …

How she managed to sneak up on him, he'd never know; he hadn't been sleeping, or even dozing really, but after he had sat under that tree for a while, he suddenly felt like there was someone nearby. Slowly opening one eye, he resisted the urge to jump at the sickly white face that was only a few short feet away from him. Opening the other eye, he sat up straighter, and the quick movement seemed to cow her substantially because she flinched a little and turned her slightly gaunt face away from him, hiding behind a waterfall of thin, dark hair.

"Ah, sorry," he muttered, feeling awkward, "I was just … resting …" She didn't say anything – she was very timid, and nervous, almost as if she was afraid she was doing something wrong, and Hisoka could feel it. It was making his stomach stir with fabricated butterflies, and that was just making him queasy … And it probably didn't help that he could feel that overbearing neutral presence either, though he wasn't sure where it was originating from … Hisoka was about to say something else when one of her slim hands made a gesture that drew his attention to a little tray that was sitting near him, which he hadn't noticed before. It held a full pitcher of what looked like cold barley tea on it accompanied by a glass of the same stuff. Blinking stupidly, he glanced up at her, but she was looking away again, and she had set her hand down. Reaching out towards it, he picked up the cool glass and took a sip – and apparently hadn't realized how thirsty he was as he downed the glass surprisingly quickly.

"Thank you," he said quietly, panting a little with how fast he had drank the tea – it was probably the most delicious thing he'd ever ingested in all of his life. She just shook her head, and he got a sense of shyness from her mixed in with her nervousness. Hisoka was at a loss for what to say as they sat there in silence – he was completely caught off guard by this encounter, not to mention not being able to pinpoint where that presence was coming from, and though he had known what questions he needed to ask her that morning, for some reason he couldn't remember how to speak.

"He says … I should talk to you …" her voice was raspy – thin and frail, much like her body, and again Hisoka was reminded of wisps of white smoke as he watched her for a long moment. Brow furrowing slightly, he asked the only question he could think of at the moment.

"Who does …?" he couldn't imagine that she was talking about her husband; the man seemed like he would prefer to be her sole liaison to the outside world until his dying breath, and he hadn't seemed to place too much trust in he or his partner. He had an inkling of what she was talking about, but for the moment he wanted to pretend that he didn't, to see what she did. Carefully he reached out a little bit, trying to figure out what she was thinking – he didn't usually like to open up enough to read people's minds. It tended to leave him too vulnerable for his own liking, and with that presence around, he didn't think he could be too careful. She opened her mouth to say something, but paused, a sharp cough wracking her body for a few moments and stopping her from answering immediately. Afterwards, she didn't move to say anything, so Hisoka pressed on.

"Is it true … That you were diagnosed with sFI?" (3) he asked this sort of bluntly, but he wasn't sure where her husband was, and so, he didn't know how long he'd have to question her before he was interrupted. "And that, you are being … healed …?" the continuation of his question was cautious – she herself had claimed that it was an angel that was healing her in the report, but he didn't know if she'd be so willing to divulge that information to a stranger …

Surprisingly, she nodded slowly. "Yes … I was supposed to die …" she answered, clearing her throat weakly. "But I was saved." Hisoka's eyes narrowed a little.

"Saved? But isn't there no cure …?" he asked, playing dumb for the moment – he wanted to see what she would tell him without prompting, and what he would have to drag out of her. There was a pause, and then, she turned towards him, face hidden by her dark hair for the most part, sunken black eyes staring at him intently as she thought.

"There is no cure offered by humans," she said in her weak, smoke-like voice, "my cure did not come from them. My cure came from—"

"What are you doing outside!" the sudden crack of the loud voice made Hisoka jump nearly a mile; he had been so intently scrutinizing the woman before him that he hadn't noticed her husband coming around the corner and seeing her talking to him. He approached quickly, almost like a whirlwind, saying nothing to the blond, but picking his wife up without another word and bringing her back inside the house before any argument could be made to the contrary.

Before she was made to leave however, she managed to hold something out to the blond, wiry fingers pressing it into the palm of his hand and closing it before obediently allowing herself to be carried into the house by her husband – this seemed to be something she was accustomed to because she wasn't upset or even really surprised at being carried away. Hisoka didn't notice this though; he was still in shock from when she had touched him. He had still been openly receptive, and her hand had touched him … It had made his skin crawl – it was like touching a corpse … A corpse that you could tell might stand up and laugh at any moment. Shivering, his flesh felt clammy, and he moved to bring his hand up to see what exactly it was that she had left him. Eyes narrowing, he couldn't exactly see what it was – it almost looked like a n—

"Ouch," he hissed as he opened the hand that the small object was in, wincing slightly. Yeah; it was a needle, and it had just cut his finger open. Sucking on the tip of the injured digit for a moment, his healing ability took care of that almost immediately, and there was no indication of the puncture a second later. Looking at the needle now carefully curled between his fingers, he looked painstakingly at it … But no matter which way he turned it, it just looked like an ordinary sewing needle to him. After scrutinizing it for a long time, he eventually looked around for the water bottle he had long since drained, opening the top of it and dropping the needle inside before replacing the cap so that it wouldn't prick him again or get lost, setting it down at the roots of the pine tree before standing and going back to work …

Tsu zu ku

(To be Continued)

Footnotes:

1 – in the manga during the office's competition, Hisoka is entered in the archery contest for his division, and as archery and kendo are both traditional practices in Japan, they could be linked like this.

2 – basically nikujaga is a beef stew, and shimabara nabe is more like a lighter chicken soup.

3 – sFI is Sporadic Fatal Insomnia, a very rare disease that is almost always fatal, and basically drives the person suffering from it insane as they slowly develop dementia from inability to sleep and waste away.