Author's Notes: See chapter one for disclaimer.

Thanks as always to spiritmind675, walkerminion, EchizenRyomaLover, mooopower, and Eria for reading and reviewing chapter ten!

Forgive the clichéd chapter title. I can never think of very imaginative names for my stories. Sigh.

Slow Mend
By Annie-chan
Chapter Eleven: Sins of the Father

Hisoka couldn't remember a time he had been so tense.

The young shinigami stood on the edge of the wooden porch looking out over the gardens to the rear of his family's house. Fireflies floated here and there in the moonlight, giving the appearance of stars drifting among the flowers and trees. As a child, he had often snuck out of the house at night to watch the serene display. It had been one of the few things in the world he could fully take pleasure in, the dazzling spectacle causing him no pain or discomfort. That and watching the koi swim lazily in the ponds that dotted the property had been his favorite activities as a boy.

Now, however, he was hardly in the mood to enjoy the sight. Behind him, a door opened into a tearoom, light spilling out onto the porch and throwing a long shadow of Hisoka onto the ground in front of him. At the low table situated in the middle of the room sat Kurosaki Nagare, his back to the door. The man's posture was straight, as it always was, but there was a barely discernable stiffness to his bearing that indicated a fair amount of uneasiness.

Hisoka let out a long sigh through his nose, crossing his arms as if cold. Neither he nor his father had said a word since arriving at the main house. It seemed that neither of them knew what to say. This situation was anything but normal.

Nagare had stared wordlessly at his son as he lay gasping on the ground, a look of shock on his face. Hisoka had merely laid there, his mouth working as if to speak, but no words came out. Inwardly, he had been panicking. His father was one of the last people on Earth he wanted to be found by, and the man had walked right up on him as if Hisoka had been asleep. The urge to scream was pushing at his ribcage from the inside, but his throat was blocked. All he could do was lay there, staring up at his father as if Death itself were looming over him.

The Kurosaki patriarch had suddenly lunged forward, crossing the cemetery with unexpected speed to grab the cowering boy by the upper arm, hauling him to his feet. Hisoka had finally let out a hoarse cry, the sudden increase in his empathy forcing it from his throat. He tried to pull away, but his body was trembling so badly that he barely had enough strength to stay on his feet once Nagare released him.

"You're not a ghost," his father had breathed, his voice soft and unreadable. Hisoka sensed, however, that his father was feeling a chaotic mixture of surprise, confusion, fear, and dread. It was not every day that one comes across the apparition of one's dead child, especially an apparition that wasn't an apparition at all. Hisoka was very much a solid, breathing, warm-blooded young man, though Nagare had no way of knowing that the perfect imitation of life was wholly due to Hisoka's status as a shinigami.

"I-I'm not," Hisoka had managed to stammer, trying to control the raging surge of adrenaline that had been released into his bloodstream. He had no idea if his father was going to attack him or not. He could very easily conclude that the being that stood before him was a demon, or some other unnatural creature, taking the form of his son to confuse and distract.

His father didn't attack him, however, nor did he call for assistance from the main house. Though Hisoka assumed most of the household was asleep, as it normally was this time of night, it would only take a few sharp orders from his father for the male servants to be up and ready to defend the estate and their master. Instead, he had turned briskly away from the dumbstruck boy, and made his way back toward the cemetery entrance. A terse come was all it took for Hisoka to fall in behind him. As uncomfortable as his father had always made him, obedience to him had been deeply ingrained into the empath since very early childhood. Without thinking, he submitted to the compulsion, following his father as he headed back toward the main house. He had dropped back further as they got closer to the old building, but not so far as to warrant further orders to follow.

Now, the two of them had their backs to each other, neither having spoken since leaving the cemetery. Nagare was sitting stiffly at the table, and Hisoka was several feet away on the porch, watching the moonlight play among the gardens. Though the door was wide open, leaving no barrier between the two of them, being outside the tearoom's perimeters gave Hisoka a sense of security, as if there was a partition between him and his father. The sense of separation allowed him to rein in his emotions and regain a sense of calm.

It was Nagare who finally broke the silence.

"What are you?" he asked, his voice flat. "You died when you were sixteen, yet you're not a ghost." He paused very briefly. "You can't be alive. I watched them bury you."

"I'm not a ghost," Hisoka conceded, nodding slightly. "I haven't returned to haunt you or this house. But I'm not alive, either. Not truly."

"Then what are you?" The boy felt nervousness emanate from his father.

"I'm a...shinigami," Hisoka replied, not sure if his father had heard of such beings. He himself hadn't before his death, that's for sure.

"Shinigami," Nagare repeated. There was no actual question in his voice, but Hisoka could tell from the tone that he was expected to explain.

"I am...an agent of Enma-daiou," he said slowly. There was no need to explain who that was. The name of the Lord of the Underworld was well-known among the Japanese. "My job is to find and put to rest the souls of those who cannot find peace on their own. An 'afterlife detective,' if you will."

"Mm." Though he wasn't looking at him, he had an odd feeling that his father had nodded, as if understanding.

"You've heard of us?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Once, very briefly," Nagare said. "There is a single mention of such beings in an old manuscript that has long been in this family's possession. The name had been written 'shi no kami,' however."

Hisoka nodded briefly. The word "shinigami" was a corruption of "shi no kami," so the manuscript his father mentioned must have been laid down before the original phrase was slurred into the modern word. He wasn't sure how long ago that was, but it must have been a century or two, at least.

"Your spirit has clung to life because unshakable regrets plague you even in death," Nagare continued. "Much like a ghost."

"I suppose you could put it that way," Hisoka shrugged. "But because I'm not a ghost, I like to think I also have some purpose to serve. I feel that I'm meant to-" He abruptly cut himself off. As far as his father was concerned, he had died of an unknown illness. Mentioning his desire to exact revenge upon his murderer would only cause more questions than it answered.

"You feel that you're meant to what?" his father prompted when Hisoka didn't finish his sentence. "Answer me, Hisoka."

The boy flinched. When he had been alive, disobedience had been completely out of the question when his father called him by his name. Usually, he was "boy" or "you," but when he used his son's name, Nagare meant business.

"It's nothing that concerns you," Hisoka said instead, his voice leaving no question of his refusal to answer. He was no longer his father's charge, so he didn't have to follow his orders anymore.

Nagare was silent. It didn't seem at first that he would reiterate his demand for his son to finish his thought, and Hisoka started to wonder if his father felt that he, being technically dead, was no longer required to obey, as Hisoka had just thought. What his father said next, however, took him completely off guard.

"Did you really die because you were ill? Were you even ill at all?"

"How did you...?" Hisoka gasped before he could stop himself. Biting his tongue hard enough to bleed, he mentally kicked himself for the slipup.

He heard his father sigh. "It wasn't an illness, was it?"

Hisoka dropped his head forward, his fists clenching at his sides. "No. I had been cursed." He spun around, his emerald gaze boring into the back of his father's head. "But how do you know about that?"

Nagare shook his head. "I didn't. But...whenever I looked at you as you lay in that hospital bed, I kept having this feeling that there was something else going on. I had this strange sense that what I was seeing was no ordinary illness. It wasn't just because the doctors had never seen anyone with your condition before...I just kept thinking that there had to be something other than disease eating away at you."

Hisoka stared at his father. Crazily, he wondered if Nagare had a higher-than-normal level of intuition, like a sixth sense or something like that. He could tell his father didn't have nearly the level of mental power that he himself had, but he supposed it was possible that he wasn't the only member of the family with senses that surpassed that of a normal human.

Or maybe he's just a damn good guesser, he thought.

"So," his father continued when his son made no response, "is finding the one who cursed you your reason for staying behind?"

Muraki's pale, mocking face immediately jumped to mind, and Hisoka hissed in rage. "I've already found him, and I'll show him a hundred ways to die all at once if I ever get the chance!"

Nagare was silent.

"It was the same man..." Hisoka went on, the words spilling haltingly from his lips, "...the same man who...who attacked me when I was thirteen. He cursed me that night...and it took three years for the curse to finally kill me." He was trembling again, breathing hard. A suppressed, pent-up anxiety rose up uncontrollably, causing him to fling a bitter, accusing question at his fathers back. "Did you even care if they found the man who raped your son?"

"Yes. I. Did." Nagare's clipped, barely restrained tone spoke of sudden fury. "Do you honestly think I would allow this family to be so shamed without searching under every stone for the guilty one?"

"'This family'?" Hisoka snarled. "'This family'? Fuck this family! You care more about the Kurosaki 'honor' than the fact that your thirteen-year-old son was found raped and beaten right outside the gods-damned house!"

"Hisoka," his father snapped, his voice as sharp as Hisoka had ever heard it. "I know you have been aware of how much I feared you. I didn't know what to make of a son who screamed just for being touched. Simply looking at you made me feel so helpless. But," he turned around, looking his son in the eyes, "despite my fear, you were still my son. You were unconscious for nearly two days after you were found, and well-nigh catatonic for days after that, so you wouldn't remember this, but I was absolutely livid that someone dared to do such a thing to you. I was so angry, the servants fled before me."

Hisoka just stared at his father, trying to control his breathing. He sensed no lie in his father's eyes or emotions. Guilt began to trickle into his thoughts, but it was nearly drowned out by the firmly established anger and resentment that was flowing through him. His father had neglected him for as long as he could remember. That wasn't something he could so easily cast aside.

Nagare turned back around, meshing his fingers in front of his face and resting his forehead on them. "The police did everything humanly possible to find your attacker. A woman was found murdered in the same area at the same time, so you weren't his only victim. But the investigation went nowhere right from the start. They couldn't even find any biological evidence on or in either you or the woman." He paused for a moment. "Apparently, whoever raped you used some form of protection."

Hisoka frowned at this. Muraki had done no such thing. He remembered very clearly the feeling of the demented surgeon ejaculating into him. The scalding heat and overwhelming sense of disgust and horror wasn't just something his traumatized mind had made up. Muraki had definitely left semen in him. It was as if the doctor had a spell or some other form of sorcery that did away with any evidence linking him to his victims. The silver hair recovered in the Kyoto case had been deliberately planted, after all, and that was the only physical evidence pointing toward Muraki that Hisoka ever remembered them finding at any of the crime scenes.

He stiffened as a thought came suddenly to him, his eyes widening a fraction.

There isn't so much as even DNA evidence left behind, even with those that have been raped.

The empath shook his head, hastily pushing that thought away. Don't think about that. Not now, not now, not now...

"I know who it is," he said quietly, his voice hoarse, "but telling the police would be useless. They can't do anything about this, about him." He sighed shakily. "I have to take care of him myself. I have to make sure he doesn't do this to anyone else!"

Nagare nodded. "Then may the gods ensure your victory."

Hisoka blinked, surprised. Never before had his father offered him his blessing in anything. It was so strange to hear such words come from him. Very quietly, he muttered his thanks, not looking at his father as he did so.

"Speaking of murderers," he ground out after a moment of absolute silence, "why in all the hells is your brother still a free man after what he did?"

Nagare didn't respond, but he did turn around to look at his son again. His eyes, the same vibrant green as Hisoka's, were closed off.

"I know what he did to my sister," the boy continued in the same deadly tone. "Your daughter! I know you know it, too. I heard you yelling at him about it when I was a child." Stomping closer, he grabbed his father by the front of his yukata, yelling into his face. "Your own brother! Why do you let him go unpunished?"

"Do you think I never tried?" Nagare bit back, and Hisoka nearly stumbled away with the sudden force of his father's anger. "He didn't bother to hide it from me! I tried everything to get the police involved, but there was no evidence to give them but my 'knowing' what he did! The coroner submitted that damned SIDS diagnosis and that was the end of it! I was written off as a grieving father giving in to hysteria! Do you have any idea how maddening that is?"

Hisoka did step back at this point. His eyes were wide, and he swallowed thickly, his throat dry. His father was being completely honest, and he felt a new surge of anger directed at his uncle. As much as he disliked his father, he felt his own emotions emulating Nagare's. Disposing of an "unwanted" daughter had caused more chaos in this family than could be imagined.

"I lost my wife because of what that thrice-damned brother of mine did," Nagare continued. "As if losing my daughter wasn't enough! I had to watch Kasane waste away to nothing! I buried my wife not two months after I buried my daughter!"

The young shinigami turned away, his teeth chattering slightly. "You never loved Kaasan," he said, no question in his voice. "She was just a replacement. You loved Kasane-obasan, not her. She just conveniently looked exactly like the woman you truly wanted." He squeezed his eyes shut, his whole body shaking with rage. "She was just a replacement, and so was I! You couldn't even think of a different name for me!"

"It's true," Nagare admitted after a slight hesitation. "Your mother is no more pleased with this marriage than I am. She was so happy when you were born, however. She has no love for me, but she adored you. You were her little darling, after all." He dipped his head down, his voice lowering to just barely above a whisper. I think...that's why she went so mad when you became 'strange.' Her only solace in life had turned against her."

"Don't make it out to be my fault!" Hisoka hissed, his eyes flashing. "I had no control over it! There's no excuse for what she did to me! Nothing justifies a mother abusing her child like that!"

His father had nothing to say to that. He merely stared at his son, his eyes offering neither sympathy nor apology.

Hisoka whipped around, growling angrily. "Where is Kaasan, anyway?"

"She's asleep," Nagare answered.

"Good," the boy snorted sardonically. "I want to see her even less than I want to see you." He looked back over his shoulder, one eyebrow quirking up curiously. "By the way, why haven't you two had another child yet? Isn't producing an heir your most important priority now? I'm dead, you know."

"There will be no further children from me," his father said flatly. "I simply will not have an heir."

"Does Kaasan refuse to let you get her pregnant again?" Hisoka asked, obvious mockery in his voice. "She doesn't want to birth another little monster like me, does she?"

"No," his father shook his head. "That's not it. It is my choice. The family line must die with me."

Hisoka's eyes widened again. He most certainly hadn't expected that. "What...?"

"The Kurosaki clan doesn't deserve to go on. I allowed both of my children to be murdered. I couldn't protect my daughter from my own brother, and I left my son to suffer alone at the hands of a madwoman. And not only were you raped so viciously, practically under my nose, but I couldn't do anything to catch the one responsible for it. I've utterly failed as a father with both your sister and you." Nagare closed his eyes, and Hisoka could sense a strong feeling of self-loathing seep through his father. "The deaths of my children are punishment for the corruption that has settled into this family, and a sign from the gods that we must not be allowed to go on. We have sunk so low, I have no choice but to let our line die out. The estate will be dissolved upon my death. I have already had my will drawn up and finalized. No one will be able to contest it."

The honey-blond shinigami stared silently at his father. A strange sense of calm was settling over him. The idea of his ancient family dying out at the whim of its questionably sane patriarch elicited no feelings of regret whatsoever in him. His life before death had been a nearly continuous streak of misery, so the clan's demise didn't faze him in the slightest. He had no love for them, and lineage was overrated, anyway.

"Do what you want," he said coldly. "I don't give a fuck."

The next moment, he was gone. Nagare was left alone, staring at the empty space his son had just been occupying.

Hisoka's departing words echoed in his head long after he had retired to bed.

"Oy, Tsuzuki! Quittin' time!"

Tsuzuki leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. His back popped loudly as he arched it forward. "Finally," he yawned. "I thought today would never end."

Watari trotted up next to him as he rose to his feet. "You goin' to see Bon tonight?"

"Yeah," Tsuzuki nodded. "I'm gonna go check on him, see how he's doing." His young partner had called in sick today, which hadn't surprised Tsuzuki at all. Not only had he discovered some pretty terrible things concerning his own family just yesterday, but he also had a lot of sleep to catch up on. Hisoka likely wasn't actually ill, but he deserved to take a sick day nonetheless. Unfortunately, that left Tsuzuki stuck in the office again with a stack of paperwork.

"I really wish we could do something to help the kid," his bespectacled friend muttered, an uncharacteristic moodiness in his voice. "He's been having a hell of a time lately."

"I know," the older shinigami said, sadness settling over his face. "It's tearing me apart watching him suffer like he is. If I could, I'd chase all his problems away. It's so rare to see him smile anyway, but...it's been even less common than usual lately."

"Just keep your hopes up," Watari said as he punched out. He placed a hand on Tsuzuki's shoulder as his best friend punched out as well. "Things'll get better. Just make sure he knows you're there for him, and he'll recover in time." He smiled his easy, friendly grin. "He trusts you. If there's only one person who can help him get through this, it's you."

Tsuzuki smiled thinly, looking down at the floor. "Thanks, Watari. I'm glad you have faith that I can do this."

"Hey, of course I do." The scientist patted 003 as the little owl came flying from the direction of his lab, settling on his shoulder with an indignant hoot at being left behind. "Tatsumi does, too. We all see how close you two are, and we believe in you. Things'll work out in the end, you just have to keep at it."

"You're being awfully serious, Watari," Tsuzuki chided, his smile widening. "Did you spike your own coffee again?"

"Hey now, be nice!" Watari laughed. "I can be serious when I want to be! Really, though, I care a lot about you two. I want to see you happy just like everyone else does."

"Thanks," the violet-eyed man said softly. "That means a lot to me."

"Glad to hear it," Watari smiled, patting Tsuzuki's shoulder. "Go on, then. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

"I'm not so sure of that," Tsuzuki mumbled as they parted ways, though Watari didn't seem to hear. For all he knew, Hisoka could end up doing exactly what he had done on Sunday. That is, lock himself into his apartment and refuse to acknowledge any and all attempts to get in touch with him. The boy had a habit of retreating into himself when he was upset about something, a habit that Tsuzuki really wanted him to break. Internalizing all his negative emotions couldn't be good for his health.

It's not like I have any right to criticize, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself. He was quite well-practiced at putting up a false front of cheerfulness, after all. At least with Hisoka it was obvious when the young empath was brooding over something. Tsuzuki wasnt quite so easy to read.

Retrieving his black overcoat from the closet near the office entrance, he exited the large building and stepped into the perpetually blooming sakura garden outside. He breathed in deep, inhaling the delicate scent of the numberless blossoms, letting their understated sweetness leech the tension from his muscles. If he was going to see Hisoka, he didn't want to force the empath to deal with any discomfort coming from him. Hisoka had enough on his mind as it was.

I love you, Hisoka, he thought, watching the pink and white petals fall like snowflakes, and I'll do everything in my power to help you out.

Closing his eyes, he fazed from view, translocating away from the Enmachou compound and into the residential district nearby. As he gazed up at the nondescript building Hisoka made his home in, he felt butterflies flutter around in his stomach. He didn't know what to expect when he knocked on his partner's door.

Maybe I should have called beforehand to let him know I was coming...

It was too late for that now, so he mounted the stairs up to the floor Hisoka lived on. It was quiet here, almost too quiet. He knew Hisoka preferred peaceful environments, but this apartment building could be downright spooky in its silence. It was as if Hisoka was the only one living here sometimes.

He stopped in front of the empath's door. He had no doubt that Hisoka already knew he was here. His partner could sense a person's presence from a fair distance away, and he had once told Tsuzuki that he had become especially attuned to his older partner's spiritual signature, as they spent so much time together. Tsuzuki didnt know whether to be happy or unhappy about that. On one hand, Hisoka may be more willing after a while to let Tsuzuki get closer to him, but on the other hand, he was probably privy to more of Tsuzuki's emotions that concerned him than was ideal. The increased sensitivity may scare him off rather than draw him closer.

Sighing and shaking his head, Tsuzuki raised his hand to knock. Before he could do so, however, the sound of a lock being turned could be heard, and the door opened.

Hisoka stood on the other side, looking disheveled and irritable. In all honesty, it was normal to see a scowl on the boy's face, but today he seemed particularly annoyed.

"Uh...hi!" Tsuzuki said with a nervous smile, raising his hand in greeting. Hisoka hadn't even taken the chain off his door yet, so they were looking at each other through a gap of only a couple of inches. Apparently, he hadn't left his apartment at all the entire day.

"What do you want, Tsuzuki?" Hisoka demanded. Tsuzuki could detect exhaustion behind the snippy tone.

"I came to see how you're doing," he answered honestly. "I'm worried about you, Hisoka. I just want to see that you're okay."

"I'm not okay, but thanks for the concern," his partner sighed, rubbing at his eyes with the hand not holding the doorknob. He started to close the door. "Just leave me alone, Tsuzuki."

"Wait," Tsuzuki said quickly, sticking his hand in the door to prevent its closing. "Don't shut me out, Hisoka. You're hurting right now. I can see it in your eyes."

"That's nothing new," the empath muttered. "Life hasn't exactly been a cakewalk for me."

"It hasn't been a cakewalk for me, either. I know how you're feeling right now. Please, let me inside. I can't stand seeing you like this."

"Just go away, and you won't have to see me like this." The boy's familiar sarcasm was present in full force, to which Tsuzuki felt a rush of exasperation.

"Hisoka," he said, his tone conveying how childish he thought his partner sounded.

Hisoka stood there silently for a long moment, looking down at the floor. His eyes were red and blurry as if he had just gotten out of bed, and his hair was sticking up in places. He was wearing a tank top and light sweat pants, clothes that were comfortable to sleep in. Considering his near total lack of rest this past weekend, he had probably spent most of today asleep.

Finally, he spoke. "Move your hand."

"I'm not letting you shut me out, Hisoka!"

"No, I mean I can't take the chain off without closing the door first."

Tsuzuki blinked, taken off guard by the boy's acquiescence. He had expected more of a fight. This is a good sign!

He removed his hand from the doorjamb, allowing Hisoka to close the door. The metallic sounds of a chain being taken down could be heard, and then the door was open again, wide enough to allow Tsuzuki to enter.

"Thanks," he said, giving Hisoka a smile and a warm pat on the shoulder.

Hisoka swung the door shut, almost slamming it. "Well? What is it you want to talk about?"

"There isn't anything I really feel we need to talk about. I just wanted to make sure you're doing all right." Tsuzuki stepped further into the apartment, having removed his shoes and left them by the door.

The boy plopped down on the couch, shading his eyes with his hand. "I told you, I'm not."

Tsuzuki gingerly sat down beside him, making sure to keep his distance. He had a feeling that any unwelcome touch would elicit the same type of reaction as what Watari had barely dodged the day before. Maybe not as violent, but just as hostile.

"Is there anything you want to talk about...?" he asked quietly. He hoped the feeling of his concern was a comfort to Hisoka rather than an irritant. He was never sure how the boy would react to things when he fell into one of his moods.

Hisoka was silent at first, his eyes shielded by his hand and hair. He seemed petulant, or perhaps he was arguing with himself over something. Finally, he gave a long sigh, sitting up a little straighter and rubbing at his eyes, as if scrubbing sleepiness away.

"I...I spoke with my father last night," he said, almost whispering.

"WHAT?" Tsuzuki burst out before he could stop himself. He mentally kicked himself when he saw Hisoka flinch, and tried to rein in his feelings of shock. "You let him see you?"

"I didn't let him see me," Hisoka snapped. He looked away, a scowl crossed with a pout settling on his face. "He came upon me unawares."

Tsuzuki just stared. How could anyone come upon Hisoka unawares? That was like trying to hide sugar from ants.

As if sensing his partner's confusion (which was likely), Hisoka explained, "I had returned to the family cemetery to pay my respects to my sister. I brought her some lilies, and I was praying to her and for her. I...I was just so caught up in it, that I had no idea someone was coming closer. You'd think I'd sense my own father, but...I guess not in this case." He sighed again, rubbing at his neck as if it were sore. "I don't know if he was coming to pray, or to just spend time among his relatives, or what. I never asked. He was probably more surprised to see me than I was to realize he was there. I mean, his dead son had shown up out of nowhere, apparently alive and well. Who ever expects to see that?"

Tsuzuki nodded slowly.

Haltingly, Hisoka told Tsuzuki about the conversation between him and his father. His voice was quiet for the most part, but it rose shrilly when he came to the subject of his uncle murdering his sister. He was trembling, his bare feet coming up to rest on the edge of the couch cushion, his knees folded up close to his chest. The thought of the man going unpunished for such a horrendous crime was absolutely infuriating. He had always been terrified of his father's older brother, but now all he felt for him was a seething hatred.

Gently, Tsuzuki put his arm around Hisoka's shoulders, scooting closer. "Just relax," he murmured, hoping his sympathy would provide Hisoka with some comfort. "Even if he goes unpunished in life, he'll get what's coming to him after death. His sins will be judged just like everyone else's."

"I know," Hisoka hissed, breathing deep in his anger. "I'm just so angry right now. I want to strangle that bastard with my own two hands!"

Tsuzuki said nothing to that, but he could understand Hisoka's rage. He had felt the exact same way toward Muraki after learning of the rape and murder of his young partner. The doctor's sick delight in recounting the vile assault had only heightened his desire for vengeance.

After a long moment of silence, he posed a question that had been fluttering about in his mind since the conversation began. He was curious, if nothing else. "And...your view of your parents...has that changed at all?"

"No," Hisoka replied without hesitation. "I know now that my father did perhaps care for me in some way, but that doesn't excuse what he did to me. It doesn't justify allowing my mother to abuse me like she did. His fear concerning my 'inhuman' senses overrode any paternal impulses he may have felt. I cannot forgive him for that."

"Are you sure?" Tsuzuki asked, not looking at his partner. "I mean, the remorse he feels now is such that he's willing to let the family die with him. That's gotta mean something."

"It doesn't matter," Hisoka shook his head. "The remorse he feels isn't just for me, anyway, but for my sister as well. And my aunt. Feeling guilt after the fact isn't an automatic ticket to forgiveness." He looked over at Tsuzuki, his eyes flashing with quiet conviction. "I don't have to forgive him or my mother, Tsuzuki. Finding closure doesn't have to include forgiving everyone who wronged you. Some people just don't deserve forgiveness."

Tsuzuki met Hisoka's eyes, searching. When he found nothing but brutal honesty, he looked away. "Yes, I guess you're right. It's your choice, Hisoka." He didn't feel he had any right to needle Hisoka about refusing to forgive his parents. He himself had never forgiven his own parents for abusing him, and likely never would. Sometimes it was better to just cut ties with one's past rather than trying to reconcile with it.

"Tsuzuki," Hisoka said quietly, looking away. He seemed nervous all of a sudden, or maybe guiltily curious. "Have...have you ever thought about looking at your own file in the archives? To find out about the period of your life after running away from home, I mean."

"I have, a few times," Tsuzuki admitted with a nod. "I've always thought better of it, though. When it comes right down to it, I don't really want to know about that part of my life. I figure that finding out would only cause more harm than good. Some things are better left forgotten."

Hisoka made a small sound of agreement, or at least of acceptance. He understood what Tsuzuki was saying. Finding out what he had done to survive on the streets, which may or may not include some rather stomach-churning possibilities, wouldn't do any good in the long run, and in all likelihood would only delay Tsuzuki's coming to terms with his life. There were also the rumors he had heard of his partner harming or possibly even killing people just prior to being hospitalized. He shuddered. He wouldn't want to remember the details of something like that, either.

His thoughts were interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn, and he brought his hand up to his mouth in a futile attempt to hide it.

Tsuzuki grinned sympathetically. "Tired?"

"Yeah. I've been sleeping off and on all day, but I still feel like I've been hit by a bus."

"You look like you've been hit by a bus," Tsuzuki chuckled, taking in his partner's unkempt appearance. Hisoka was always meticulously groomed, and the only time Tsuzuki could remember seeing him looking somewhat sloppy was during the case in Okinawa, when he was fighting heatstroke. "I'll leave you alone now," he said, starting to stand up. "You get as much rest as you can, Hisoka."

"Wait," Hisoka said, grasping the arm of his overcoat. When Tsuzuki looked at him, eyebrows raised in question, he let go, suddenly feeling incredibly shy. He looked away, hiding his emerald gaze.

"What is it?" Tsuzuki asked, sitting back down. "Is there something you need me to do?"

"Will you..." the empath began, sounding like a child about to admit a wrongdoing, "...will you...stay with me? Just watch over me as I sleep?"

The older shinigami's eyes widened in shock. That was the last thing he had expected to hear come out of his partner. His shock was almost immediately replaced with a flood of hope. The amount of trust Hisoka placed in him in order to make such a request must be tremendous indeed. He smiled warmly. "Of course, Hisoka. Anything you need."

Hisoka stayed still for a long moment, then hesitantly shifted, motioning for Tsuzuki to move over and give him room to lie down. He very slowly placed his head in his partner's lap, relaxing as Tsuzuki's warm affection washed over him.

"You're not going to tell anyone I made contact with my father, are you?" Hisoka asked sleepily as Tsuzuki gently rested a hand on his silky hair. Though it wasn't the most serious infraction that could be committed, shinigami were all but forbidden from having any contact with their loved ones (or unloved ones, in Hisoka's case). Doing so could cause more trouble than it was worth.

"Nope," Tsuzuki smiled. "If I can keep secret that Chizuru-chan let herself be seen by one of her friends, I can keep secret your encounter with your father."

"Thanks, Tsuzuki," Hisoka murmured, sinking down into his fatigue. The gentle brush of his partner's fingers in his hair quickly lulled him into sleep.

The older man's smile softened, gazing down at his young partner. He loved this boy dearly, and would do anything humanly - shinigami-ly? - possible to ensure his safety and happiness.

"Sweet dreams, Hisoka," he whispered to the sleeping empath. "I love you."

To be continued...

Author's Notes: I got this written much quicker than I expected to. Not that I'm complaining. I'm sure you're all happy about it.

Again, I hope my portrayal of Nagare didn't ruffle any feathers. I didn't want to depict him as a complete bastard regarding his son, but I didn't want to write him as a sobbing penitent, either. His aristocratic pride wouldn't allow that kind of behavior, anyway. My goal was for him to have severely contradicting emotions when it comes to his second child, and I hope I succeeded. This being mainly an anime fic, his personality and sanity haven't been damaged by Yatonogami's possession of him, so I imagine he's mentally much more "normal" here than in manga canon. I hope nobody minds this.

I also couldn't help sneaking a little TsuSoka fluff in at the end. Don't get me wrong, they still have a long way to go, but Hisoka does trust Tsuzuki more than he trusts anyone else, and it's plausible that he'd reach out to him for reassurance when feeling vulnerable.

Oh, and as for Nagare having a "sixth sense"...take that as you will. I'm not saying he's psychic or anything. Some people just have a higher level of intuition than others. Even if he does have some kind of superhuman sensitivity - though by no means anywhere near as powerful as his son - it's kind of a moot point in regards to this story. It doesn't really matter, it's just a brief suspicion that Hisoka has during his conversation with his father. That's all.

Anyway, leave a review if you feel the need to. TTFN!