A/N: I'm so sorry that this took so long! My beta is very busy even over vacation. I had to give up and post this with only my own proofing job, so please excuse any errors you find. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I was truly honored and amazed at how many I received last chapter! Hopefully this will satisfy everyone. I'm also sorry to say that not much is left (but this isn't quite the end).

A Staircase in the Darkness

Chapter Nine

Hisoka froze, instincts from his time living inciting a panicked need to hide somewhere he wouldn't be discovered. No, he reminded himself, he could stand right in front of a mortal and not be seen while in this form. He placed the diary back down as quietly as possible. Despite himself, he couldn't help but subconsciously attempt to keep his breathing quiet.

Footsteps. The sound of leather and cloth shifting as shoes were removed. More footsteps, the quieter ones made by socked feet. Hisoka breathed, unsure why his heart wouldn't slow down. Something didn't feel right. The man would be in here any moment—he debated teleporting away. It would be the safer option, and it would mean that he could come back with his partner there for back-up.

His eyes narrowed. No, he'd stay and see if the man led him to any further evidence.

When Adrian stepped into the room, he was looking right at him. As Hisoka felt the surge of shock, it took him a second to realize that it was not simply his own at the uncanny way the man had managed to look him in the eye without seeing him—he could see him.

"What a rude guest," he said, taking a step closer. His voice managed to conceal his surprise with sarcasm. "Entering a man's room without permission."

Hisoka took a step back, unease jolting through him. His hand went to his pocket that always held emergency fuda, gripping anxiously. "Adrian Mann." His voice betrayed nothing, only calm. "You will be receiving the judgment of Juuouchou for your crimes."

An unnerving peal of laughter burst through the small room. "So you'll take me there!" he sounded elated, bent over slightly with his hands resting on his knees as he eyed the shinigami.

No, Hisoka thought, feeling the now recognizable power attempting to work its way into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he tried to shield it as best he could, but it was not like the regular emotions his empathy picked up on. If the man continued talking, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop it from affecting him—it could essentially take over his mind, judging from what happened last time. He couldn't afford that. God damn it, Tsuzuki. Where are you? The thought passed his mind before he could check himself. No, this was his fault; he was the one who came here without backup. He'd have to get himself out of this. No more relying on his partner. How could he ever hope to be on equal standing to him, if he couldn't even deal with one mortal?

"That won't work," he said, his expression blank. He let a cold, stern exterior cover his inner uncertainty. "Your tricks only work on humans; not on us. You'll only receive a harsher sentence if you fight."

Adrian laughed again, and Hisoka had to fight not to flinch—wrong, the cold touch in his head was so wrong, so disturbingly hypnotizing. "Is that so? I'm afraid my sentence means nothing to me… and you seemed quite persuaded last time, if it is ineffectual."

Struggling to remain composed, Hisoka forced confidence into a slight smirk, although his face twisted slightly from the discomfort of the mental attack. He just needed to get him to stop for long enough… if he could bind him with the fuda… "Don't bother with arrogance," he said, fingers curling over one of the cards in his pocket.

"You'll take me there, but not for judgment," the pianist said, brazenly taking a step forward, ignoring Hisoka's words. "You'll lead me to where she is."

He couldn't help but cringe, just slightly, and he cursed himself for the slip. In one swift motion he had the fuda out, ready to chant the incantation. "Even if you went there," he spat out, "You wouldn't be able to bring her back to life. You were lied to, both about that and about your abilities. Give up."

That did give the man pause. His eyes wide, he spoke in a low, threatening voice. "I'm not foolish enough to trust you. You just want to come in between us!"

It took a tremendous effort not to clutch at his head, his fingers trembling around the slip of paper. There was something raw and powerful about the anger in Adrian's voice, something uncontrolled and nevertheless efficient as an attack. Compared to when he had attempted to utilize his voice as a means of manipulating the shinigami, it was actually much more effective in crippling retaliation, the mental equivalent of an actual blow. His power likely held a potential far greater than what he could tap into due to his own lack of understanding, Hisoka realized. That made him both fearsome, and very possible to overcome.

"We are not the ones who got in between you," he said after the wave had passed, his grip remaining resolute as he tried to free his mind from the constraints of panic and upset inflicted on him unwittingly, searching for the calm required to use the fuda. Gritting his teeth, he thought of the practiced confidence Tsuzuki would throw the spell out with.

A bitter, quiet laugh, no more than a light pass of air, and the man spoke again, not letting Hisoka finish. "Ah, but I'm done with blaming fate for tearing her away," he said, again stepping closer. He was only a few paces away now; either he didn't realize the danger of coming so close to a shinigami who was fully prepared to defend himself, or he was confident that the effect of his voice would paralyze him, preventing any counterattack. "Now, I only see the point in blaming those who would interfere with our reunion!"

If it hadn't been for the very incapacitating feeling of insanity reaching into his own mind, Hisoka would have snorted at the man's words. They faced people with similar unbalances after losing loved ones somewhat regularly. He cursed his luck that this one ended up being able to exploit his empathy, something that normally came in handy in this profession. Indecision flashed across his features for an instant as he considered attempting to further discourage the man, before he forced unwilling limbs to hold forward the fuda, trying to calm his mind enough for it to supply the words as he chanted under his breath. The archaic spells were already close to meaningless syllables without the dance of foreign thought and influence breaking into his mind, obscuring his purpose and concentration. Even if he hadn't recognized the threat posed by the cards alone, the chanting seemed to be suspicious enough that he was on the alert now.

Only a brief moment passed in which he actually looked troubled by the incoming attack, however, before he smiled serenely. "Stop," he said, as if it was a perfectly reasonable request, nothing but calm authority in his voice. Hisoka really wished he could laugh at the foolishness of it, a mortal trying to order a shinigami, and he might have, if he had had enough of an upper hand. He couldn't, however, deny the way his incantation stuttered, stopping for a beat before he insistently churned out more words. It had been enough that he felt the power dissipate, and he almost cursed before starting again. The man posed no physical threat, he reminded himself, as Hisoka's inherent spiritual abilities would likely blow him away even if he didn't intend it were he to actually attempt to attack him. It was only the potential of losing control to the effects of Adrian's odd power with sound that had him restarting the binding spell with a sense of urgency. The slip didn't seem to have gone unnoticed, either, and he was opening his mouth to speak again—

Hisoka was aware of a surge of emotions in the much more natural way he was used to experiencing them, as an outside force on the perimeter on his senses. Concern, realization, resolution, and the next thing he knew there was a flash of white and an explosion of energy.

The impact of the spell had blown him back (or perhaps that had been the intent, he realized dimly as he watched the room move forward in a blur, to get him out of the range of the spell), sending the fuda flying uselessly from his fingers. He'd recognized the interloper to have been Tsuzuki by the time he met with the floor, taking in the sight of an infuriated and shocked Adrian bound by a familiar spell.

"Hisoka!"

Said mortal was first and foremost ignored in favor of his partner, Hisoka noticed with a sigh. He knew Tsuzuki didn't hold grudges, and definitely not against him, but he almost wished he would be angry with him for what he'd done, rather than so purely and honestly concerned. "Tsuzuki," he ended up answering dumbly, blinking as he looked up at him, still in shock from the sudden switch from danger to safety, his heart pounding. He felt as if he'd been suddenly pulled up after being submerged in water.

"Are you okay?" he was saying when Hisoka had shook himself enough to react, reaching a hand out to help him up.

Hisoka only briefly contemplated rejecting the hand before he wrapped unsteady fingers around his partner's larger ones, the influx of relief and affection helping steady him more than it should as he used the opposing force to lift himself easily. He blinked more, slowly, retracting his hand and trying not to think that it felt empty, ignoring the slight tingling sensation left in the touch's wake. "I'm fine," he said, although his mind was clearly still reeling from how far the man's power had reached within. "Thank you."

It was kind of amusing, how stunned Tsuzuki looked at that. Maybe it wasn't like him to admit owing thanks for something like that, when he should be trying to hide the obvious display of weakness, needing to be saved yet again. Oh, right. They'd been fighting before he'd run away. That's why it was surprising. Hisoka vaguely wished he'd conveniently pass out and wake up with his senses about him again, but consciousness seemed to be surprisingly insistent in its clinging to him, considering how eager it had been to leave him the past few days.

"It's not a problem, you know that," Tsuzuki replied through a smile, and he had the impulse to reach out and ruffle his partner's hair, Hisoka felt before he actually went and did so. His empathy must have gone completely insane under such an intimate attack, because it was as if he could feel everything, as if all his and Tsuzuki's shields were both destroyed. That is to say that the gesture filled him with this, frankly, stupidly warm and glowing feeling, and it certainly wasn't the time for that.

In seeking to focus his eyesight somewhere that wouldn't lead to more embarrassing thoughts about his partner and the really foolishly attractive way his eyes lit up when he was pleasantly surprised like that, he remembered the bound and struggling musician whose apartment had become the scene for this strange event. It looked as if Tsuzuki's spell had, thoughtfully enough, bound him enough that speech was impossible, which explained the total absence of the invading touch of his power. Tsuzuki seemed to follow his gaze and also remembered the man like an afterthought, turning to survey him now that his partner's safety had been assured.

"He knew about us," Hisoka said suddenly, before he could ask, carefully avoiding the overhanging reality of how wrong he'd been. At the very least he could let it go unsaid and merely presumed. "And yeah, he controls emotions through sound or… something. Watari-san would probably be fascinated," he noted with a distinct lack of interest, trying not to sway from the succession of feelings coming from Tsuzuki. He ended up mostly baffled and distressed as he worked out the implications.

"I guess we'd better… take him back with us?" Tsuzuki observed the man with a weary eye. He had no chance of breaking free from the spell, but it didn't stop him from looking incredibly unhappy about it. His face was twisted into an expression of rage that was cringe inducing.

Hisoka let out an exasperated sigh, burying his forehead into the palm of his hand. "Just make sure you don't let him free once he's there," he muttered. "Someone gave him the idea that he can bring back his dead lover if we take him to Meifu."

Something like sympathy passed across Tsuzuki's heart, a dark feeling that he didn't allow to linger. Hisoka might normally not have caught it, and it was unsettling to have his empathy picking up every single thing like that.

"You know," Tsuzuki was saying with a smile before he'd had time to even register the flash of an idea coming across. "Maybe we should pass him off to Watari!" That way you can rest. The thought was so clear and loud that it was just as if he'd spoken it. Hisoka wondered if that hadn't been intentional.

He should have told Tsuzuki off for being lazy and wanting to push off their responsibilities, but something about the idea was too appealing to be denied. Tatsumi wouldn't approve. He nodded. "It seems like a fitting punishment for him," he said, perfectly deadpan. "I mean, assuming he'd just be passing him along for judgment for us."

Tsuzuki cast a wide-eyed look of amazement at him before he was across the room, an enthusiastic arm around the frozen culprit. "Yeah, of course! I'll meet you back at the hotel room then, Hisoka!"

He must have been going insane, because he laughed a little at that. "Alright," he said, giving him a look that hopefully conveyed, And we'll talk about this then.

His partner and his unwilling cargo were gone in the next instant, and Hisoka soon followed suit in disappearing, leaving the apartment empty, the air buzzing with the left over impact of the power.

It seemed to have been a pattern throughout this endeavor that Hisoka would end up laying on that stiff mattress, eyes roving over the featureless ceiling. His head was pounding incessantly, and his pulse refused to slow down. Moments stretched on that felt both long and short, with nothing happening, the possibility of Tsuzuki's return growing more real with each passing one.

He wasn't sure what he'd say. How would he explain himself without just coming clean and admitting things that would destroy their partnership? Did he even need to say anything to make that admission, when it was so obvious after what he'd done? His eyes shut, he ran a hand absently over his bangs.

The more he thought about it, the less sense any of this made. That moment he'd slipped up and mentioned, when they'd shared that intense connection, had to be something they both remembered. He both cherished and feared the memory of it; it had been so amazing, enough to leave him breathless, and he'd felt so whole, enough to not even tremble at the thought of oblivion. For a while after he'd awoken, before Tsuzuki had regained consciousness, he'd thought what he'd felt there meant that his odd love was returned; it had certainly felt that way, then, with the feeling permeating the very air of the tiny space between them as they clung to one another, the last vestiges of solidity in a world that was slipping away. He'd realized it had only been his own sometime after they'd neglected to speak of the experience. Tsuzuki must have known and felt too awkward about it to mention it, which explained his return to shielding after the event.

Hisoka sighed, trying to ignore the painful and yet bittersweet ache that was as insistent as his heartbeat. Why did he have to foolishly reminisce to make himself emotional like this when he was already reeling over how this conversation was going to go?

He was aware of the bundle of nerves and anticipations before Tsuzuki even materialized in the room (and really, couldn't he have appeared in the hallway and knocked?), which sadly translated to the fact that his empathy was still bouncing off the walls for some reason. He sighed. "Welcome back," he said as he forced his muscles into motion again, lifting himself into an upright position.

"Hey," Tsuzuki replied warmly, his head tilted and that painfully honest smile on. The emotions behind it tore at him, so contradictory yet sincere, pain and joy, hope and fear. "Watari was overjoyed to receive our present." Amusement at the recollection now joined the mass that was already enough to make Hisoka's head swirl.

"I'm glad that's done with." He let silence fall only for a brief moment before he spoke softly again. "I'm sorry."

Tsuzuki was bewildered and taken aback, his eyes wide as he surveyed his partner with near disbelief before his smile returned. "You don't need to apologize," he said. "I was wrong, too."

Except that he really hadn't been the one at fault in their argument, and Hisoka knew it but he didn't say anything, simply looked blankly at those warm purple eyes. For the second time that day Tsuzuki gave into the impulse to reach out and touch, one he normally tried to suppress for his partner's benefit, and he buried his long fingers in blonde locks, stroking gently in something that ended up being more intimate than merely ruffling his hair as one would a child's. Hisoka was almost stunned by the influx of emotions, so much more than he was used to. And nestled there he felt so much warmth that it almost brought stupid tears to his eyes, and he really wished they could have this conversation while he was sane, because there was clearly something wrong with him right now because he was fairly certain he felt love and acceptance and desire and home coming from the other. There was an epiphany in his eyes as he looked up at him, one he normally wouldn't even dare to think, nevermind accept.

He only regretted that this time the connection was one-sided, that Tsuzuki could feel none of this.

In fact, the man seemed rather pleasantly bewildered at the raw display of emotion in his eyes. "Hisoka," he was saying, even as his words were overwhelmed by the waves of emotions, because his hands had reached down to circle around Hisoka's own, and he might pass out if it got any stronger, but at the same time he didn't feel like he could. It felt too natural, something he was unused to ascribing to feeling another via his empathy. He really should have shaken off those hands, his sensible self would have wanted that, but said self was currently in catatonic shock over this revelation of how mutual these feelings felt right now.

It was only then that he realized that he'd been saying Tsuzuki's name, and he promptly turned scarlet, not even sure what he wanted to say. He'd regret this once he'd gotten some sleep and his senses were back to normal, that much was certain. No, he was too hopeful and happy—no, that was Tsuzuki, not him—or was it? It didn't matter.

In retrospect, Hisoka realized that it had been him to lean forward first, but he would insistently point out that it wasn't like Tsuzuki hadn't been the one to close the remaining distance, bringing their lips together in a unity that didn't feel all too different from what he'd been feeling all along, just with a feathery touch of the physical that was at once so small and yet larger than his comprehension, something so brief and fleeting, changing everything and yet nothing at once. He could have sworn, though, that there was a fire between them now, and he only hoped that his strange power was enough that they both felt it in that odd almost-synchronization they'd fallen into before. It was only after they'd parted and were staring in shock at each other, both equally surprised that it had actually happened when it seemed so impossible for so long, that Hisoka was aware of how hard and fast his pulse was pumping through his ears, almost deafeningly loud, and his hands were trembling within Tsuzuki's grasp.

"I," he said, instinctively running his tongue over his lips, blinking hard. The words didn't want to come out, and he wasn't even sure what they were. "I guess that explains a lot of things," he eventually decided on.

Tsuzuki was laughing, the sound so honest and pretty that it hurt a little. It really shouldn't have though, now that he was finally right here, and they weren't about to lose their lives, there was no ash and smoke obscuring his vision, this was really just the two of them.

"It does," Tsuzuki smiled, and it felt for that moment like the light had chased away the shadows normally lurking behind it. Hisoka knew then that he must have felt it, too, and he couldn't help but smile back, although moving his facial muscles to open so wide felt awkward, when he could hardly remember the last time he'd done it. Some part of him hoped to grow accustomed to it again.