Chapter 11
Tsuzuki hunched his shoulders, pulling his collar tight across the back of his neck. He stared out into the empty park, but saw nothing. The sound of the rain falling through the trees drowned out the rest the city. White noise; he was alone. His back was pressed firmly to a tree, hands clenched deep in his pockets.
Water dripped off the tips of his bangs and into his eyes. He squeezed them shut and took a deep breath.
What was he doing here?
He'd asked himself the question countless times before. He knew the answer but it didn't stop him from asking anyway.
His gut was twisted painfully and his whole body was in a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the weather. He knew why he was here, that he had to do all he could to save the kidnapped women, but it didn't stop him from wishing he could walk away.
Before Muraki showed up. Before he couldn't escape.
Another deep breath. Pressing harder into the tree trunk.
He had a job to do. He knew that. Just as well as he knew that he could never live with himself if he messed this up just because he was --scared-- and caused those women to die needlessly. It wasn't fair to them to be afraid of a lunch meeting when they were--
He shouldn't think about that.
He had to keep a cool head. He'd promised Hisoka that he'd be strong, not let Muraki get to him, and he knew he couldn't break this promise. Not when it was to Hisoka. Not after what happened last time Muraki had him.
A shudder rolled through him and he tried not to think about the bite of metal against his throat; cold fingers running down his chest. His throat became dry. He didn't want to remember how poor Mariko screamed in his ears, begging him not to kill her, all while Muraki laughed-- laughed while he peeled back the folds of Tsuzuki's yukata. A scrutinizing gaze. Pain. Always pain with millions of roses scattered across the lab floor.
But he couldn't feel Muraki all the time, not when the cold sterility of the lab was replaced by rice fields and he could feel the sting of rocks pelting his back. Running until his legs gave out, his lungs burning. Always burning. And all he could hear was his own sobbing, loud and insignificant when everyone hated him.
And he could always feel it, warm blood dripping through his hands, strands of hair tangled in his fingers, cloudy eyes staring up at him. And when he couldn't stand the stare any longer it would become his own blood, flowing thickly from his wrists.
Never enough. Because even if he could escape the hell of his mind for a few clear moments, he couldn't escape Muraki. Not that there was a reason to. Not that he hadn't done so much wrong in his life. Not that he didn't deserve it-- and if enduring the pain Muraki offered was all it took to get his only chance at redemption--for everything to finally end, then it was worth it.
But that hadn't been right at all, because Hisoka offered a different existence entirely-- real redemption. Because it wouldn't hurt so much to live for someone else -- not like it hurt when he lived selfishly for himself. And he could forget the blood when Hisoka was in his arms, and he could smile when Hisoka was smiling back.
And that was enough. More than enough.
Tsuzuki just had to keep reminding himself. He had the right to be here, because Hisoka needed him. No matter what Muraki said, no matter how much his words sounded like the truth at times, he had to remember that he was here because of Hisoka, so it didn't matter.
Hisoka had chosen him to be by his side, him of all people, so the least he could do was be strong. Around Hisoka, it was always easier: to cry or to be brave. As long as he could remember Hisoka was waiting for him he could get through this.
He only regretted leaving him so upset. Hisoka was just scared like he was. It had been hard to see his hands shaking at his sides, begging him not to go. Maybe he wasn't being fair, leaving like this, but Muraki knew something. He probably knew who was behind this, and Tsuzuki couldn't just forget the lives he had to protect.
Even when Hisoka looked at him like that, eyes revealing things rarely said, Tsuzuki couldn't stay. It had been difficult too, because even yelling, Hisoka felt good in his arms. He was always so good, even if he was angry -- because Tsuzuki wasn't alone. He knew he was wanted when Hisoka would call him an idiot and try not to smile. When he would hit him with a book. When he would willingly rest in his arms. It all told him he was good enough in subtle ways that Tsuzuki relied on more than he'd ever admit.
So much so, that Tsuzuki couldn't stand the thought of Hisoka hating him. He'd held him close and willed him to understand why he had to do this. But that wasn't enough. He couldn't convey something so important in a simple touch. How could he ask Hisoka to trust him? To believe in his promises?
And Hisoka looked so-- he'd hesitated, but Hisoka looked like he wanted it too. Tsuzuki hadn't meant to go so far, not when he was already asking so much of him, but-- Hisoka was always so beautiful. His green eyes had flashed with a sharp edged heat, the sort of strength that Tsuzuki always admired. But his face was flushed with anger and anxiety, his jaw trembling just perceptibly under his touch, warm breath tickling over his fingers, and it was all so sweetly fragile. Hisoka was more real than anything Tsuzuki had had in years, and he never wanted to let go--couldn't stop when Hisoka was so close, wanted to be close-- not when he'd thought about kissing him again countless times since they'd been released from the infirmary.
Not when Hisoka kissed back. And it felt--
He brushed back his waterlogged hair and his eyes swept across the park again.
Being with Hisoka felt like more than he ever thought he'd be worthy of, but he was learning to get used to that, and he had no intention of ever letting go. He would return to Hisoka's side because he was everything. He wouldn't break this promise.
Tsuzuki took a deep breath and tried to clear his thoughts. Muraki would be here any moment, and he had to be alert. He couldn't let himself be afraid--couldn't even be distracted with the thought that he'd kissed Hisoka.
Another wave of nerves hit him.
Because Muraki would know. Somehow he was always able to pick a person apart and know every one of their secrets. He could still recall the disgustingly knowing look Muraki had given him, as if he knew exactly how he felt about Hisoka. That look; as if he were no better than Muraki for wanting him.
It would be just another thing Muraki would try and use against him. He couldn't be weak.
Couldn't--
"Tsuzuki-san."
The voice made Tsuzuki's body stiffen, but he covered his reaction and turned his head to see Muraki approaching casually, protected from the rain by an umbrella.
"Muraki."
Muraki stopped a few feet away, and he could see the satisfaction in his smile.
"I hope you weren't waiting long."
Tsuzuki remained silent.
Muraki didn't seem to notice his lack of response. "Well then, there is no point standing out here. I've made reservations."
Muraki turned and began walking. Tsuzuki pushed away from the tree and followed, making sure to leave enough distance between them so that he'd be able to react if the doctor made any sudden moves. He didn't trust him not to have hidden motives.
Muraki inclined his umbrella towards him in invitation. Tsuzuki tightened his fists, and declined with a tip of his head, more water dripping from his hair.
"It is a shame to put your health at risk Tsuzuki-san," Muraki chastised.
Tsuzuki let out a disbelieving sound, that might have showed some of his nervousness. "You know it doesn't matter."
"Habit I suppose." Muraki gave him a sideways glance through the fringe of his bangs. "I am a doctor after all."
Something bubbled up inside Tsuzuki, and had to stop himself from laughing. A doctor was someone who helped people, who gave them hope, but he'd only ever seen Muraki cause misery.
Tsuzuki felt the rain trailing down his coat sleeves and between his fingers. It took all his willpower not to check his watch, to not reaffirm that it was only rain. Hisoka was waiting for him back in the hotel room, he reminded himself. But somehow it was always harder to remember in Muraki's presence.
"I'll take your coats sirs," a young woman offered when they arrived at the door to the restaurant.
Muraki removed his coat in a single motion and handed it to the woman along with his umbrella. Tsuzuki reluctantly took off his own. Most of his fuda were in his coat pockets, so he was disarming himself somewhat, but it was also waterlogged and hardly practical to wear in a restaurant. Especially one as nice as the one they'd just entered. She was already eyeing him distastefully.
"The restroom is that way," she suggested, pointing down the corridor to the left of the coat closet.
Tsuzuki hesitated but then decided that he'd be able to confront Muraki much better without his hair hanging in his face.
"Thank you," he said before retreating down the hall. He sighed in relief when Muraki didn't follow. So everything was ok. Muraki didn't have him alone. They were in public. Just lunch. There wasn't anything Muraki could do to him with people watching.
In the bathroom Tsuzuki grabbed a hand towel and did his best to dry his hair. Luckily his coat had kept him dry for the most part, only the cuffs of his shirt and some of the collar being damp. The bottom of his pants legs were a different matter entirely, but they wouldn't be as obvious once he was seated at the table.
Eventually he gave up and looked at himself in the mirror. His reflection was pale, and his damp hair looked black, which made his purple eyes stand out even more. He stared at himself for a moment, a small wave of frustration weaving its way into his anxiety. Why did it have to be so obvious? Why couldn't…
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
When Tsuzuki walked back to the entrance, the coat lady led him to the correct table. Muraki was already glancing over a menu, while swirling a glass of wine lazily in his other hand. Tsuzuki sat down across from him and only made a passing glance at his own menu. Free food or not, he wasn't hungry in the least.
Muraki picked up the open bottle and looked pointedly at the empty glass in front of Tsuzuki. "Would you like some? It's quite good."
"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?" Tsuzuki said snidely.
"It is never a bad time to enjoy a drink with a good friend, Tsuzuki-san," Muraki said, his smile widening slightly. "And it has been some time since I've had the pleasure of your company."
A shiver rose up Tsuzuki's spine and he tried to convince himself that it was because he was cold in his drying clothes. He wouldn't let Muraki get to him. It wasn't about what was between them. It was about the women.
"The pleasure is all yours. I came here because you said you had information."
Muraki set down his menu and took a sip from his glass. "As impatient as ever, I see."
"If you know something about the missing women, then tell me--"
Muraki held up his hand, cutting him off just as a waitress came to take their order. "Tsuzuki-san, since you haven't had a chance to look at your menu, would you give me the liberty to order for you? This restaurant has a wonderful Trenette Al Pesto."
Tsuzuki gritted his teeth, and nodded. The waitress gave him a wary glance, but her face lit up when Muraki smiled at her. She took their menus away, blushing. It was enough to make Tsuzuki sick.
"You should work on your manners. That poor girl might get the wrong idea with such a sour expression."
"What are you doing here?" Tsuzuki asked forcefully. "It can't be a coincidence that you showed up here now. How are you involved in this?"
"How indeed?" Muraki's eyes narrowed. "I'm curious Tsuzuki-san, do you expect me to give all the answers without anything in return? That hardly seems fair."
Tsuzuki straightened in his seat, his hands curling into fists under the table. "What do you want then?"
"What have I always wanted? Just a little…cooperation." Muraki's eyes seemed to burn into his, and couldn't stop himself from looking away, his gaze landing on the table. The low lighting made the grain of the table a deep red, a pool of blood stretching out from Muraki's white fingertips. Tsuzuki stared at those hands, horror building relentlessly in his gut. He could feel the edge of the blade wedged between his ribs, his chest flayed open, and the hot breath ghosting over his cheek. "How cooperative you're being. You're so beautiful like this Tsuzuki-san."
It took him a moment to regulate his breathing. Even then it was hard for him to look Muraki straight on.
"It would be a shame to spoil our reunion with talk of only business," Muraki continued as if he was unaware of the reaction he'd caused.
Tsuzuki swallowed and gathered what resolve he could muster. "There is nothing else to discuss."
"I must disagree." Muraki picked up the bottle of wine once again and poured some into Tsuzuki's glass. "You see, when it comes to you, it has always been difficult for me to stay strictly to business."
Tsuzuki swallowed. He had no idea where Muraki was going with this. There wasn't anything he would be useful for, not now that Muraki's lab was destroyed. What could he want?
Muraki eyed him closely, and then smiled. "First, try the wine."
Tsuzuki picked up the glass and took a sip after making sure to give Muraki a thoroughly scathing look. If Muraki wanted him to play his little game, fine, but he wouldn't be leaving until he got the information he wanted.
"Happy?" he spat.
"Very."
"Now, tell me what you know!"
"Fine, a small reward." Muraki leaned back in his seat and folded his hands. "Those women you're so intent on finding, they're all still alive."
Tsuzuki slammed his glass back on the table, some of the wine spilling on the table. "So you're a part of it then? Did you kill Atsuya-san?!"
"Calm down, Tsuzuki-san. You're getting stares."
Tsuzuki glanced to the side to see that some of the other patrons were looking at their table in alarm. He took a deep breath and tried to relax his posture. His next words came out in a low growl. "Did you kill her?"
"No," Muraki answered simply.
He didn't believe him. Muraki always lied when it suited him. "Then how do you know that the women are alive?!"
"I didn't deny my involvement completely."
The statement hung in the air as the waitress came with their food. However even she seemed aware of the tension between them and didn't stay long.
"What are you doing Muraki?" Tsuzuki hissed. "What do you want with them?"
"I'm sure you've heard what they say about idle hands, Tsuzuki-san. And as you know, Kyoto was quite the set-back in my plans."
"The women have nothing to do with that!"
"On the contrary." Muraki looked at him levelly. "I've been given the opportunity to get what I want, and depending on your cooperation, this could benefit you as well."
"You're talking about people's lives! There isn't anything about this that I want!"
"The Muraki family has been doctors for generations," Muraki said suddenly. "But then you already knew that."
All the heat and anger instantly drained from Tsuzuki's body. He could remember Muraki's words from during the Noh play. He knew he wasn't human. It was always his eyes, but Muraki had confirmed all his worst nightmares, what he'd been the most afraid of his whole life.
"Tsuzuki-san, after I took over my Grandfather's research I became fascinated by you. You can understand can't you, that your eyes have held me spellbound for years."
"Stop it!"
He had to keep it together! He wasn't here for this! He--
"I've studied his papers relentlessly. I know more about you than you know about yourself Tsuzuki-san. You might be able to hide it from your shinigami friends, but you can't hide from me."
Tsuzuki's chest felt constricted, all his resolve becoming tangled with encroaching fear. His fingers curled into his palm, knuckles whitening in a telling way. He wanted to hide his hand under the table, press his wrist protectively to his knee, but it would be obvious. He was a coward. Muraki already knew, had seen, and there was no hiding it. Sharp steel eyes told him so. The scars just burned between him and the doctor, disguised by his watch band. He was painfully aware of how intently Muraki was watching him now.
"Stop it," he managed to say.
"You and I aren't too different Tsuzuki-san. That is why I've come to you with an offer."
"I don't--"
"Your friends will never understand someone like you. But I will. You do Enma's petty work without appreciation. You're his slave, but it doesn't have to be that way. Come, work with me. There are others like you."
"Others--" Tsuzuki took a shallow breath. "You're hurting innocent people! Why would I--"
"But isn't that what you do every day, my dear Tsuzuki? You take lives on Enma's orders, tear apart families. Is that so different?"
The knot in his chest grew worse. He felt nauseous. "I'm not a killer!"
"No? Then what about that day my Grandfather found you?"
He couldn't breathe. His wrist was burning--his lungs burning. No he couldn't--couldn't think about it. That day. If he thought about it now-- Hisoka was waiting. He couldn't--
"They wouldn't understand, but I do."
"Stop saying you understand!" Tsuzuki stood up, fists clenched on the table. No one-- it was a lie. Muraki was just trying to-- and Hisoka.
He was waiting.
"Do you really think the boy will understand? Is that what you're hoping Tsuzuki-san? What will you do when he finds out the truth? When he abandons you?"
"Shut up!"
"You could be a part of something great. Humans are weak creatures, and they will always fear what's different from them. You don't belong with those who can't see magnificence. "
"Shut up! Just--SHUT UP!"
"Sir!" The waitress was standing nervously by their table, hands fiddling with her apron. "Uh, the other customers…if you could keep it down."
Tsuzuki took a few quick breaths, trying to gather his swimming thoughts. "I'm leaving," he forced out.
"You didn't even touch your dinner," Muraki said almost offhandedly.
"I'm leaving," he repeated as if to convince himself. Muraki's gaze was too knowing, too condescending. He couldn't look him in the face.
"Do at least think about my offer Tsuzuki-san. I won't give up so easily."
Tsuzuki took in a rattling breath, and tried to focus. "Whatever you're up to. I will stop you." It sounded hollow.
"I thought you might say that. Pity."
Tsuzuki took a few steps away from the table, the waitress jumping back as if he might attack her. Tsuzuki paused, wanting to apologize to her in some way, but couldn't find the words. He felt sick.
"Oh, Tsuzuki-san," Muraki said as he started forward again. "Be sure to read tomorrow's paper. Do not take my offer so lightly."
Tsuzuki swallowed. He had to leave. If he stayed any longer… He'd promised Hisoka.
He started walking again, forcing himself not to look back. If he saw Muraki's expression, if he really looked into the eyes he felt following him, then he might never make it out. He was hardly able to pay attention as the woman by the door handed him his coat.
Outside the rain hadn't let up. Tsuzuki gasped, taking in deep breaths, as if he hadn't been breathing the whole time he was in the restaurant. It felt as if the claws in his chest had loosened somehow. He struggled for a moment, but then pulled his coat on. He didn't want to think about it at all. But it was all he could think about.
He started walking.
He hadn't learned anything. Muraki had only spun him in circles, said the things he knew would hurt.
And it hurt. Tsuzuki clutched his hand over his watch, fingers tightening until the he couldn't feel the burn anymore. But he couldn't forget the words.
That day…
Muraki knew? How could he?
But everything after that day was like a blur, years passing afterwards without his knowledge. The doctor's face was like a vague memory, something he couldn't quite piece together properly. How…how had he come to be there? Everything was disjointed. He didn't know how he'd gotten to be in Muraki's grandfather's hospital.
What were in those records? How did Muraki know? How much? Or was it all a lie?
Questions kept spinning in his mind, the possible answers turning into more questions. Tsuzuki didn't know what to do. He was afraid to go back like this, memories shouting in the back of his mind, sneaking to the surface. Hisoka would know that something was wrong. He wouldn't be able to hide it. But at the same time he wanted to be back so desperately. He wanted to see Hisoka, to know that at least that part of his life was safe.
Because if Muraki knew the truth then…what would happen if he told anyone else?
Tsuzuki shuddered, images clouding his mind, things he didn't want to remember.
His feet had carried him back to the park, and he stood there blankly for a moment, wondering what to do. He'd failed the women. He didn't really have any new information. It was no good. He was utterly useless.
What could Muraki be thinking?
Join him? Hadn't Muraki tried to kill him? Hadn't he almost killed Muraki?
None of it made sense. What could Muraki want from him now? Was it all just another trick, something to lure Tsuzuki into another one of his disgusting plans?
Because Muraki knew what he was. Muraki knew about the truth.
How could he say he was any better?
Tsuzuki realized he was shivering. He didn't know how long it had taken for him to walk to the park, or how long he'd been standing there, but his coat was soaked all the way through. Hisoka would scold him for being reckless.
He was probably worrying right now.
Tsuzuki let out a sound between a sob and a laugh. He rubbed at his eyes, pushing away as many of his unwanted thoughts as he could until it was possible for him to force a smile. It had never hurt so much to smile.
But he couldn't let Hisoka see him so pathetic. He couldn't break his promise now.
One last deep breath, and then he teleported back to the hotel, his whole body aching with the effort it took to keep his emotions under control.
He ended up in the hallway, dripping on the stained burgundy carpet. Tsuzuki braced himself and walked up to the door. He fiddled with his coat for a minute, his mind racing too fast to remember where he'd stashed the room key. It was pointless anyway, because when he reached for the handle, he found the door already unlocked.
He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but he'd tried to prepare himself to be barraged with questions instantly. He'd thought Hisoka would be waiting impatiently, that adorable angry scowl on his face. He'd-- well anything, but the room was silent.
Hisoka was lying on the bed-- his bed.
He hadn't been gone so long that Hisoka had fallen asleep had he?
Tsuzuki stepped out of his shoes and yanked off his coat. It fell to the floor with a loud thump and Hisoka groaned, his eyes blinking open. Tsuzuki wiped back his hair and tried to laugh, his cheeks feeling too stiff. "Sorry it took me so long!" he said, hoping he sounded normal. "It sure is pouring out there!"
He walked towards the bathroom, averting his eyes from the bed. It sounded fake even to himself. Hisoka would never buy it. He could probably already feel-- Tsuzuki strengthened his shields. As long as he didn't think about it. As long as he forgot about that day--forgot that Muraki might know…
"I--ah," he attempted speak again, the words tripping on his tongue.
There was only silence in return.
Tsuzuki turned around, confused as to why Hisoka wasn't chewing his head off. He'd welcome anything really, anything to distract him, but he couldn't take the silence.
It was the first time he'd gotten a good look at his partner since coming back, but he was surprised he hadn't noticed something was wrong sooner. Hisoka didn't look well. No, he looked awful, as if he had the stomach flu or worse. He was flushed and sweaty, his eyes open but glassy.
"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki hurried over to the bed. "What's wrong?"
"D--" Hisoka mumbled.
"What? Do you have a fever?" Tsuzuki knelt down next to the bed, eyeing Hisoka worriedly. He hadn't been sick earlier… Tsuzuki frowned and pressed his fingers to Hisoka's forehead. The skin was blistering hot, impossibly hot--
"Don't!" Hisoka screamed.
Tsuzuki's arm locked in place, searing heat racing through his bones, ash choking his throat. Hisoka's shout echoed loudly in his ears, but fire was already gathering behind his eyes, nails digging into his scalp, prying his head open ruthlessly.
There was nothing he could do to stop it.
Everything exposed. Everything spilling out. Everything in darkness.
AN: And there it is. This was one of the hardest chapters I've worked on, mainly because both Muraki and Tsuzuki are difficult characters, and a whole chapter of them was like pulling teeth. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys. And hello to those new readers I noticed! The next chapter is already in progress, so please send good vibes!
