Disclaimer: The characters are property of Yoko Matsushita.

Writer's notes: Hisoka's POV this time. I wanted this fic to be a smutty one-shot between Muraki and Tsuzuki, but it turned out I can't do that. Too bad my heart tells me to include a plot... Don't run away now, for the next chapter will contain more stripping and nosebleed! Thank you x

A Shinigami was supposed to have a perfect physical form. That was not what Hisoka was thinking as he held the beautiful heiress of the Kakyoin company as they waltzed through the dance floor. Though the girl's hands were not the least bit heavy, resting on his shoulders, the boy was exhausted. This time it was more physical than emotional; he knew his feet would fail him any minute. Tsubaki-hime seemed to be insatiable when it came to dancing. Hisoka had never danced before, but the clumsiness he had experienced some hours ago had faded. His feet moved automatically in synch with the girl's, not stepping over her toes veiled in red leather. It's strange. I can't sense her thoughts at all... You can't just block all your thoughts away, can you? Tsubaki-hime didn't strike as dumb to him, despite her carefree attitude that was slightly similar to Tsuzuki's. Oh, Tsuzuki. Hope he doesn't screw up with those games.

Tsubaki's eyes were shut as she leant her head on Hisoka's shoulder. She must be tired... Can't stop dancing nevertheless. That's... cute. Hisoka's heart started beating faster and faster, breaking the frail rhythm of the live piano music they had been dancing to. The girl smelt like fresh spring flowers, though Hisoka had no clue whether the scent came from the camellia flower or some other plant. Her skin burnt an invisible mark where her chin swept his neck. Hisoka's body was aching everywhere, and given that the grip in his hands was growing looser by the minute, he stopped on his tracks and gently brushed her cheek with his fingers. "Tsubaki-hime, are you tired? You sure are a great dancer", he said shyly, knowing very well the pale pink color that was taking over his cheeks a little. Tsubaki blinked, clearly trying to process the words directed to her, and covered her mouth before starting to giggle. "Thank you, Azumi! As a matter of fact... I am a tad tired. Could you escort me to your room?" she said as he let her took his arm gallantly. She was shaking.

Hisoka still didn't know the way Tsubaki's room, but he tried his best when he pressed the sixth floor button in the elevator. As the doors slid shut, Tsubaki let out a weak sigh and suddenly collapsed on his arms. Her heart... Should've known it. Dammit! Where's the doctor-- No, definitely a no. Hisoka yelped quietly as a thousand needles underneath his skin pricked their way through his flesh, reminding him of the bloodred mark Muraki had branded on his young body. The boy cared greatly for this girl, but in the end, he was as selfish as anyone else. He didn't want to count on a serial killer, a rapist, a torturer. Even though he might have been her guardian angel from heaven above. "Tsubaki-hime! Can you hear me? I'll take you to Abiko-san!" Hisoka screamed, slapping her cheek as gently as he could. She didn't open her eyes, though Hisoka could, much to his embarrasment of his indecent thoughts, feel her chest heave under his hand. How did my hand end up there anyways? The doors slid open. He lifted all her weight on his arms and stepped out to the sixth floor, looking for a friendly soul to tend to his princess.

Just as his own feet were about to fail him, he saw Abiko, the young med student, exiting one of the suites of the VIP corridor. "Ah! Azumi-san! What's up?" Abiko greeted cheerfully, squeezing something against his chest that looked like the autopsy reports from yesterday night. He's a weirdo, but he's better than a psycho. Hisoka didn't have to say anything, as the slightly older young man noticed the unconscious girl and let out a little gasp. "Oh, my. Let's take her here for the time being. I'll call Dr. Muraki", Abiko suggested while guiding the other boy to his room, but Hisoka's icy cold stare made it clear that such a call was all but unnecessary. "I'm sure the doctor's busy at the moment. Could you take a look at her? I think it's just from three hours of dancing", Hisoka suggested blankly as he laid her down on the divan in Abiko's room. While his hand held Tsubaki's, his stare was stern on the med student who looked positively confused. "I'll see what I can do, then", the older boy sighed and knelt beside the divan, his shaking hand holding a tall glass of water.

When it came to this Abiko, the emerald-eyed Shinigami didn't have to worry about not being able to read his emotions. He could clearly sense the nervosity of this young man, whose hands were desperately seeking for her pulse. Abiko was trying to be a gentleman, avoiding touching her anywhere Tsubaki might have not approved when conscious. That's going to be his job some day. His modesty won't help him much... Hisoka let his empathy penetrate the other boy's mind thoroughly, only to catch a glimpse of the thrilling feeling that was still left from yesterday. Abiko seemed to be still thinking back to the autopsy he and Doctor Muraki had performed on Mr. Wakabayashi yesterday. Hisoka could barely hold back the nausea caused by the med student's admiration towards the man who had stolen both the Shinigami's life and dignity. Worried that he might get felt up again looking that sick, the younger boy let go of Tsubaki's hand and stood up. "Can I use the bathroom?" he asked and found his way to the luxurious bathroom even before hearing Abiko's answer.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Hisoka threw himself against the door and held his shaking head, trying to gather his thoughts that were trying to escape him through his mouth. Take it easy, kid. You mustn't think about your grudges towards him now. Tsubaki is all that matters to you now, right? Wait a minute. That wasn't Hisoka's inner voice speaking. Tsuzuki was the one who would say such things and tousle the younger Shinigami's hair. And get smacked on the face right after. Even though Hisoka hated to admit it, his partner probably had more experience in life and maybe even some idea how to act around attractive girls. A boy locked in the basement probably has a limited possibility to interact with such creatures. Wondering what the older Shinigami might be doing at the moment, Hisoka got himself together and splashed some cold water on his ever-so-serious face. When he could get Tsubaki back to her room safely, he would go back to his own suite and try to figure out their next step in the Tarot murder case. I knew this would be no pleasure cruise, even though it might seem like one at times...