A/N: Basically, a one sided Muraki x Tsuzuki reincarnation AU where Muraki was his grandfather's cousin in a past life. He knew Tsuzuki and tried to seduce him, but Tsuzuki wasn't willing to ignore his principles and become a mistress to a rich man.
Yukitaka will be one of those parents who physically disciplined his children. So, there will be a scene where he backhands and hits Harutaka (Muraki's father) after he brought home his mistress and his bastard son.
I added too much backstory to this damn fic only for it to be onesided.
Thanks for reading!
-Lucicelo
Ever since he was old enough to read, Muraki Kazutaka was fascinated by the art of medicine. Not due to any altruistic approach in saving people. No. He enjoyed listening to his grandfather speak about his experiences practicing medicine in an older time period. Muraki Yukitaka compared his youthful strives in medicine and the various increases in scientific discoveries. Kazutaka saw the twinkle in his grandfather's eyes over the thrill of research and finding new breakthroughs in medicine. A thrill Kazutaka wanted to experience when he grew old enough.
Since his parents paid little interest in him, bar his mother's fascination with his features, and his father's expectation for perfection, Muraki Kazutaka clung to his grandfather. His grandfather didn't mind his presence. To his glee, his grandfather loved him unconditionally. Muraki Yukitaka favored him over his own sons and family members.
The family joke of Kazutaka being the favorite soon turned bitter and callous. Although, Kazutaka heard none of the vitriol due to his grandfather intervening before the rumors reached the main manor home. No one went against Muraki Yukitaka's word if they wanted to keep their lifestyle intact.
Ignorant, Kazutaka didn't realize the extent of this highly granted favor. He wanted nothing more than to spend time with his grandfather. Until, he voiced his desire to become a doctor.
His grandfather gave him permission to look through his old notes. Kazutaka was surprised but no less excited at the prospect of reading his notes. Even if the practices were old fashioned, there was still something to learn to imagine from Yukitaka's handwritten notes. On the same day, his grandfather handed him the old style key that belonged to the attic door. The second copy of the door.
Kazutaka had no idea of the importance of those papers until family members saw him attempting to open the attic door.
They were outraged that a child was given permission to view Yukitaka's old papers. The idea of someone looking through Yukitaka's papers was unheard of. It was something that Kazutaka's own father didn't have the privilege to do as a child. They couldn't stop Kazutaka from seeing the papers when Yukitaka laid down the law, silencing them into submission.
When the fanfare died down, Kazutaka ventured into the attic. He wasn't afraid of someone stopping him or questioning why he went up the stairs to the old attic. It would mean questioning their patriarch over his final decision.
Once he unlocked the door, he made sure to close the door behind him, moving the deadlock to keep someone from entering inside. His grandfather made sure to remind him to use the inside lock to prevent unwanted family members from entering inside.
He wouldn't betray his grandfather's trust through forgetting that one detail.
As he wandered through the attic, he was fascinated at the old appliances and weathered paperwork that his grandfather kept over the decades. The thick layer of dust told him that his grandfather had not walked through the attic in years, maybe even decades. It wasn't surprising. His grandfather memorized his papers and had no need to look back on them.
Checking every nook and cranny, he found a chest full of weathered photo albums. These old photo albums showed family members in proper kimono or yukata in front of a temple or the original Muraki family home. In every single one, his grandfather stood beside his late wife, Muraki Hinata, a beautiful woman who died of illness before Kazutaka was born. All he knew about her was her demure and respectful nature toward everyone. Although, Kazutaka felt inside of his heart that it was a ruse to cover up her true self.
He shook his head and refocused on something else. As he rechecked the photos he noticed different amounts of kids in certain photos. Multiple girls and boys crowded alongside his grandparents, older than his father who appeared in the twelfth year of his grandparents' marriage. He knew it was his father due to the year and the notation on the side stating Harutaka's entry to the family. At some point, the number of children dwindled, leaving a somber pair with one surviving child.
Considering his grandfather lived in a time where children's deaths were a common occurrence, Kazutaka wondered about the causes of death. There were multiple possibilities. From illness to accidents, Kazutaka knew the era wasn't safe for children.
His father was one of the last surviving children in what was once a flourishing family.
Putting the album back, he grabbed one that appeared more weathered than the one he held. Opening it up, he came across an older black and white image that showed his grandfather with his cousins. As he changed the pages, the photos were grainier than the one that showed his grandfather with his wife and kids.
One photo in particular caught his attention. It was one where his grandfather stood in front of his original clinic with a man with dark hair. Both of them wore yukata, smiling light at the camera, blurs evident of movement in the background.
Sitting down on the dusty floor, Kazutaka looked at the familiar but unfamiliar face in the photograph.
Thoughts of his grandfather's paperwork disappeared from his mind.
All he could think about was the name Kazuo.
During one of Yukitaka and Kazutaka's afternoon tea sessions, Kazutaka made an attempt at brewing his grandfather's preferred blend. A blend that tripped a deep sense of deja vu in Kazutaka's subconscious. He somehow knew the taste and name of the blend. Which was odd. He never drank this tea before he spent time with his grandfather.
In his everyday life, his mother preferred a more fragrant green tea that included flowers to mask over the smell of green tea. Used normally for her get togethers. His father drank strong brewed coffee to keep him awake at work. A bitter aroma that made Kazutaka's nose wrinkle.
None of those were to his taste.
His grandfather's tea on the other hand, was what he wanted to drink.
Nervous, Kazutaka carried the tray over to the sitting area his grandfather preferred for the afternoons. Avoiding the kitchen maid who muttered her worries about the young master having to do such menial tasks.
He made it outside to the veranda where his grandfather finished his latest pipe of herb laced tobacco. The older man tipped the pipe upside-down, the ceramic disk that Kazutaka bought him, was positioned on the table. Knowing him, he would prepare another batch for his nightcap later on in the night.
Setting the tray on the table, Yukitaka readied himself to thank the servant when he saw the young face of his grandson. Chuckling out loud, he reached out his hand and patted the top of Kazutaka's head. "You should have sent a servant to do the job, Kazutaka."
Kazutaka pouted. "But, I wanted to make it. So, I made it."
Yukitaka watched his grandson pour him a cup of tea and handed it into his hands. "Smells good." He slurped, savoring the flavors on his tongue. "Brewed correctly as well."
Kazutaka let out a sigh of relief.
They shared quick pleasantries when Kazutaka blurted out. "Grandfather, am I really your favorite person?" Embarrassed, he served himself a cup of tea before he sat down on the chair right next to his grandfather.
Instead of reprimanding for such a question, his grandfather answered swiftly. "Oh, of course. No question."
"But, why?" Muraki insisted.
"I'm not sure." Yukitaka slurped his tea, "Ever since you were born, I felt this instant connection with you. The moment I held you in my arms, you calmed down and burrowed your little face into my chest. Maybe, I knew you in a past life and we found each other again." He chortled. "You certainly listened to me more than your parents that's for sure!" He reached out his hand and ruffled Muraki's hair. "You also study harder than your father ever did, Kazutaka."
Leaning into his grandfather's hand, Muraki closed his eyes. "I wouldn't know, otou-san works too much to notice how I'm doing in school."
Yukitaka ran his fingers through Muraki's hair with a sigh. "I noticed and that's all that matters." He wrapped his arm around Muraki's body and shuffled him close. "Don't ever let your father underestimate your abilities, Kazutaka."
Muraki nodded in agreement.
Once his grandfather entered another tangent over his youth, Muraki closed his eyes and cuddled against him. He imagined a younger version of his grandfather, head full of hair, and vibrant with life.
Kazutaka loved tea.
More specifically, he preferred simple green tea blends with infused herbs. No honey, no sugar. Plain. While other kids enjoyed soda pop and juice, Kazutaka honed in one iced or hot tea. It was a quirk that adults amused to the point of buying his grandfather's tea blend to appease him. As the oldest grandson, he was spoiled a tad more than the incoming generation of children.
After all, the Muraki heir received the best of everything.
Kazutaka dressed in expensive clothes, studied at a prestigious school, and maintained the image of their family. There were no complaints about his grades or behavior.
His grandfather joked about him being an old soul. It wasn't meant as an insult, but more of a statement. Kazutaka didn't argue against him. His grandfather was right. He always felt older than he appeared and found himself enjoying leisure activities than intermingling with kids his age. His patience left him when forced to interact with his mother's friends, well, acquaintances, children ran amok the manor.
Their need to yell and stampede throughout the place made Kazutaka seek refuge in his room. The first few times he got away with it. His mother was busy entertaining her guests to send someone to find him. Until, his mother forced him out the room to parade him around, showing off his beauty to her guests.
He didn't understand her fascination with his looks. Sure, he inherited her features, it was inevitable. Both of his parents were not unseemly. She complimented him on his doll like features, comparing him to the dolls she kept on display in one of the showrooms. Valuable porcelain dolls that servants cleaned every few days for them to keep their shine.
It was undeniable that his mother was a beauty who received second looks whenever she walked in a room. He certainly heard multiple people either praising her or insulting her ability to sway other men. Although, her beauty didn't keep his father's attention. He stayed out of the family manor more often than not. His mother never seemed bothered by his father's absence from the home.
Just the same.
Kazutaka didn't miss his father's presence.
"Hitomi, your son is so angelic!"
"Goodness, such impeccable clothing. There is no stain on his white slacks or his shoes."
"His bow is regal and elegant!"
"If only my son got the hint to behave properly in front of adult company."
Hitomi soaked in the compliments over her son as she slurped down her tea.
Kazutaka thanked them and attempted to excuse himself from the room. "Thank you. I will leave you all to-"
"Nonsense!" One of the women exclaimed. "Hitomi, told us that you enjoy tea."
Kazutaka informed her. "Yes, I drink tea with grandfather almost every afternoon."
One of the servants pulled out a chair, giving Kazutaka the hint to sit down. Hitomi glanced at her son as well, motioning with her eyes to not waste their time. He sat down without another word, hiding his awkwardness of sitting in the middle of their conversation. The other children were gallivanting outside of the manor home, forbidden to interrupt these women's fun time.
He would get dirty stares once these kids found out he was allowed in adult time. Then again, none of them were his friends so their opinion mattered little. His mother didn't care if he made friends with them, only to keep up appearances of being better than them.
A servant poured Kazutaka a cup of tea, his nose tickled from the layers of perfumed add ons. As much as he disliked it, he needed to drink it to keep up appearances. He could drink one cup and then leave for his room. Scooting the saucer closer to himself, he blew into the liquid before he sipped.
In the background, the women whispered about him. Kazutaka tuned them out as best he could. Many of the women didn't hide the fact they were talking about him due to their loud voices.
Someone pushed a plate of sweets in front of his face, which prompted him to say. "I don't like sweets." Kazutaka pushed the plate toward the direction of his mother. "You may have it, mother."
Hitomi sniffed. "A dainty woman has no need for extra sugar." She waved for a maid to her side. "Take the plate away."
"Yes, ma'am." The maid bowed before she shuffled the tartlet into a tray and removed it from the entertainment area.
The conversations resumed, leaving Kazutaka to slurp his tea while taking in the women's chatter.
Muraki Harutaka's sudden whim to introduce his sons ended in disaster.
Harutaka sauntered into the Muraki family home, showing off his mistress and his oldest son. He yelled for his younger son to come downstairs and meet his older brother.
As the butler left to retrieve the Muraki heir, Harutaka reassured his son, Saki, of gaining his own living space in the family manor. It was his right after all. Saki appeared pleased with Harutaka's words as he observed objects that his father talked about, well, boasted and showed off.
The maids and butlers watched in horror as Saki's mother, who was addressed as Akiko, awing over the interior of the house. She began touching fragile family heirlooms, commented over the photos, and hinted over a new gift.
She fluttered her lashes at Harutaka and voiced wanting tea.
Before Harutaka ordered a servant away, Hitomi appeared in a body hugging red dress. Her silver locks were pinned back to frame her heart shaped face and ruby red lips. Her delicate jewelry displayed her wealth, but not enough to appear gaudy. In one of her manicured hands, she held a lit cigarette, the herbal smoke floating throughout the room.
She appeared like a flawless woman.
A clear contrast to the woman latched onto Muraki Harutaka's arm.
The servants waited with baited breath at her reaction to her husband's bold statement.
Instead of reacting as expected, her red lips quirked up, amused at the reckless manner her husband went about his private business. She cared little for his affairs. After all, she kept a line of lovers who kept silent for the sake of their own marriages. Yet, the fact he came with his bastard gnawed at her. Her son was legitimate, making him the sole heir of Yukitaka's estate.
"My, my, you brought your...paramour to the family home." Hitomi drawled out. "I have yet to inform the servants to place one...no..." She peered at Saki, an ire flared at the sight of him, but she kept her composure. "two more seats at the table."
Harutaka placed a hand on Akiko's shoulders to comfort her. "You have no right to make fun of Akiko in this manner."
"Nonsense." Hitomi tapped her cigarette, the ash fell down onto the floor, dirtying the lavish carpet. "Your sudden need to parade around your mistress is none of my concern. You brought this on yourself. And from the look of the boy..." She huffed out. "Looks just as old as Kazutaka."
"He's older." Harutaka pointed out.
Arching a well sculpted brow, Hitomi awed. "Ah, so you didn't even wait until Kazutaka was conceived to be careless."
The conversation in the front entrance stopped when they heard footsteps coming down the main staircase. All of the people turned to look, watching as Kazutaka made his way down the stairs. The butler followed behind at a slower pace, taking good care to notice if Kazutaka fell.
Kazutaka paused at the end of the stairs ready to address his father when he noticed his mother. The realization of both of his parents interacting in the same room was shocking to him. It had been a year since his parents' big blow out, leaving both of them to avoid one another while they inhabited the same home. The manor gave them ample room to not interact or see the other person for weeks at a time.
Kazutaka looked between his parents, confused as to why they were conversing in the front entrance. His grandfather preferred visitors to enter the main living room or a private area to avoid eavesdroppers from listening in. From the sight of the servants hearing every single word, he could only imagine the rumors he would overhear later in the week.
"You called our-" Hitomi stopped herself before turning to Kazutaka. "Go back to your room, Kazutaka. Jiro, take him back to his room-"
"No! Stay." Harutaka motioned Saki to his side and announced. "Kazutaka, this is your older brother, Saki."
Kazutaka was taken aback at the news. He didn't know his father made another child outside of the marriage. Even if his parents fought all the time, he didn't think this was possible. He thought he was the only son.
Harutaka said. "He will be coming around more often. I mean, he needs to experience all there is to offer being my son."
Akiko nodded her head. "As it should be."
"Now, Saki, Kazutaka, you two should shake hands. You two are brothers meeting for the first time after all."
Kazutaka watched as Saki walked around his parents and stood before him. The boy was ignorant of the scandalized whispers and outrage of the servants who faithfully served the family. His ingrained manners kept him from reacting as he kept a grip on the staircase. He didn't want to shake hands with his father's son.
"What is going on here?" Yukitaka made his entrance from one of the many hallways with a marring sneer. "Why is there such a commotion in my house?"
Noting the intense anger in the old man's face, Saki returned back to his mother's side.
Kazutaka's mind spiraled as he stood in place.
Harutaka forced on a smile as he attempted to placate his father. "Father, my apologies. There seems to be a misunderstanding between Kazutaka and-"
Hitomi interjected. "Harutaka is attempting to usurp his bastard as a higher authority than my son."
"Hitomi-"
"Don't you dare try to deny it. Your carelessness was shown in front of the servants. How embarrassing and shameful of you." Hitomi scoffed. "Your little attempt at pushing your bastard and your mistress into this home is laughable. Who owns this home?" Harutaka paled when he heard Yukitaka tap his cane onto the floor. "You should be grateful that Master Yukitaka was gracious enough to open his home to us."
Akiko pursed her lips and ran a hand over Harutaka's chest. Her voice turned soothing and comforting. "Dear, ignore her, I'm sure your father-"
Yukitaka wasted no time in backhanding his oldest son.
The resonating slap caused the servants to wince, some even looked away. From the red marks on Harutaka's face, it was obvious the motion had intense strength behind it.
Yukitaka was furious.
"Dear!" Akiko took her hands off of Harutaka and fussed over his injury. "Why did you do that to your son?! He has done nothing wrong!"
Kazutaka noted how his mother didn't react to the sudden abuse of her husband. Her red lips pursed as she blew a line of smoke in the air. The tobacco made his nose itch. She placed her well manicured hand on her waist, visibly amused at the sight of Harutaka's submission to his father.
Yukitaka sneered. "Quiet wench! And quit your sniveling Harutaka. Have some pride as a man." He turned his nasty glare onto Saki who jumped at the intensity. "Remove your... company out of my house."
"Father!"
Yukitaka slammed the end of his cane onto the ground, Harutaka flinched. "I care little if you find amusement in easy women. I dallied outside of my marriage more than often enough times where your mother asked for one request. Never create or bring a bastard into the family home. You failed to do that! Just like everything else you have done in this life!"
Hitomi piped up. "We agreed on a discreet open marriage, father-in-law." She inhaled another puff of smoke and blew it in the mistress' direction. "It is none of my concern if he wants to flaunt his... mistress. The gall of attempting to usurp Kazutaka's place is what concerns me. Kazutaka is a Muraki by birth, unlike...Harutaka's bastard."
Harutaka opened his mouth to disagree with his wife when Yukitaka interjected. "I agree." He glared down at his son. "As long as I breathe, your bastard has no place in the Muraki family. He shall never have our last name. If you attempt to do so, I will oust you from this family without losing sleep."
"But-"
"Remember, Harutaka," Yukitaka tapped his cane against the floor. "I control every fact of this family. I allow you to keep that lifestyle you have maintained. I can take it away without issue."
Kazutaka concealed his glee as his father was beaten down with his grandfather's words. Harutaka's previous bravado lessened to show an image of a chastised child. His father seemed to had forgotten that Muraki Yukitaka held the reins of their money. Angering the man was an idiotic move.
His smile broke out when his grandfather placed a hand on his shoulder, showcasing his favor.
Shidou Saki would never have his grandfather's approval.
Half a year later, the unexpected happened.
Saki murdered Muraki Harutaka and Muraki Hitomi.
Kazutaka went through his parents funeral in a daze. Holding their portrait, he nodded his head during appropriate moments while losing himself in his thoughts.
Sure, he cared for them due to their familiar blood, but both of them didn't inspire a sense of grief. He didn't expect to see their once living bodies, still and cold, inside of wooden boxes. Unmoving for all eternity.
As they lay inside of their boxes for the services, Kazutaka thought they would move or breathe. Anything to signify they came back to life. More so his mother, who took careful care of her appearance and would scream at the manner her makeup was applied. Her hair wasn't coifed the same either.
They didn't were stiff and unresponsive.
His grandfather kept a hand on back. Keeping him grounded from his darker thoughts as the man guided him through each event. Kazutaka was thankful for his grandfather yet again.
He couldn't thank him enough for his guidance.
At some point during the funeral, his grandfather muttered under his breath. "I knew the bastard was trouble."
Kazutaka nodded his head while leaning against his grandfather's side.
Of course, Saki wasn't included in Muraki Harutaka and Muraki Hitomi's funeral. The idea was blasphemous. As much as Akiko cried about the death of her son, wanting compensation for his funeral, Saki killed two people. Witnesses saw him holding the murder weapon, his body soaked in the blood of his father and wife. It was clear he murdered them.
Had the family butler not shot him, Saki would be in prison. Rotting behind a cell for murder and attempted murder.
The butler in question was pardoned through the help of the Muraki family's legal council. After all, he protected Kazutaka when he returned home and didn't know of the murders. Yukitaka made sure to further reward the man for stepping in for his heir.
To everyone who looked into the case, they assumed Saki snapped from not receiving his piece of the Muraki riches from his father.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Upon transitioning to the family manor for food, Yukitaka went ahead to alert the servants to begin bringing out the food. Guests slowly trickled in, giving Kazutaka pitying glances as they went toward the formal dining room area. After all, Kazutaka stood before the place he found his dead parents. Anyone who tried speaking to Kazutaka were ignored.
It happened more than enough times where someone left to search for their patriarch to speak with the boy.
Kazutaka looked at the place his parents bodies were strewn onto. Images of their blood soaked bodies and the intensity of the moment surged through him. It was obvious Saki would have killed him next.
Those cold eyes saw through him, locking in on him as the knife raised up to-
All of a sudden, his grandfather led him into a separate room and crouched down in front of him. An act that brought his attention onto him. He broke from his delusions to realize what his grandfather had done.
His grandfather never knelt for anyone.
Yukitaka rubbed Kazutaka's shoulders when he informed him. "Breathe, Kazutaka, breathe."
Kazutaka didn't know he was hyperventilating until that moment.
"My dear boy." Yukitaka caressed his face and let out a deep sigh. "Are you alright?"
Kazutaka gulped before nodding his head.
"Don't worry, Kazutaka." His grandfather reassured him. "As useless as your father was, he made sure to write a document where you stay in my guardianship. You won't go to your mother's family or other Muraki family members."
For the first time in days, Kazutaka croaked out. "I'm staying with you?"
"Yes." Yukitaka ran his fingers through Kazutaka's hair. "Now, I shall handle the rest of the event and receive condolences. You may go to your room or keep to the second floor. This has been an exhausting week for you."
Kazutaka nodded his head again. "Yes, grandfather."
Kazutaka waited until Yukitaka left the room before he rushed out, went up the stairs, and beelined toward the attic area. No one dared to go inside without verbal permission from Muraki Yukitaka. No one would speak to him in that room.
He was safe.
Entering the attic, he closed it, and pushed the deadbolt in place. Releasing a shaky breath, Kazutaka stumbled toward his grandfather's papers, wanting something to distract him from everything.
He fell onto his knees, shifting through the papers, uncaring if he messed up the order or lost a page.
No one would find out.
His fingers brushed against a glossy paper, gaining his attention. His grandfather rarely took photos of his patients. Photos were expensive and a luxury that many couldn't afford at the time.
Kazutaka removed the photo from the papers and looked at it.
Kazutaka's hand trembled as he clenched the photo in his hands. Hyper focusing on the handsome and ethereal bandaged man, he used his free hand to feel for the papers the image came from. From his peripheral, he grasped the papers, crinkling them due to his grip.
He tried finding a name to match the photo, but all he found was a moniker: Unknown Name.
Muraki Kazuo ignored the chatter from his current business partner to gaze upon the surrounding interior area of the tea house. A less than refined business, but it catered to their needs well enough to overlook the plain decorations and leering eyes from the commonwealth. Kazuo's obvious fine and expensive yukata and handsome features brought attention to himself. The curse of the privilege indeed.
He hoped no one dared to pander for money or thought of stealing from him. Despite his rich image, he always carried a hidden knife on himself and learned to defend himself. Having grown up in wealth, he wasn't complacent or stupid. To show weakness meant he would get taken advantage of and no one would help him. He saw more than enough rich men getting robbed in broad daylight, either they attempted to get their money back or ran for authorities. Witnesses looked the other way or rushed along to not become a target themselves. No one could rely on strangers to step in during dire situations.
It just wasn't done.
As his acquaintance blabbed on, Kazuo sipped his tea, somewhat enjoying the brew. It wasn't to his standard, but it warmed his body just fine. At least, no one overheated the leaves to release the inner bitterness and coat his tongue. He swore off a majority of the city's tea houses due to lack of attentiveness over brewing a simple pot of tea.
His cousins chuckled over his pickiness, but Kazuo wasn't one to lower down his standards unless it pertained to business. His business partners ranged from starters to established organizations. His selections in starters tended to favor him well. After all, he learned to spot a good business from a faulty one. Even if the head of the business aggravated his nerves, he painted on a smile and charmed them into his hands.
Nodding along, he swallowed the last bit of his tea and reached for the pot to serve himself. Tipping the pot, he was dismayed to find it empty. Sighing, he readied himself to yell for a server when he someone approached in his peripheral. Turning his head, he saw a young man carrying a tray full of various teapots. The server's arm didn't tremble from the strain, keeping his graceful posture as he replaced their pot.
Kazuo's eyes trailed upon the figure of a young man who set down their new pot of tea. The figure alone caught his interest. Nice and fit. Strong. Calloused hands. His profile was handsome without a visible flaw. The eccentric eye color didn't put him off. He saw plenty of colored eyes in foreigners to assume this server was mixed.
He gulped.
Kazuo dabbled with young men in university and never lost the temptation. He enjoyed playing with a man's body more than a soft demure woman. They certainly handled rougher sex better when he lost himself in his passions. Women would whine and push him away, claiming he hurt them, ruining his mood.
He might request this server the next time he patroned the establishment.
He was certain the owner wouldn't reject his request through his monetary means.
"Muraki-sama?"
Kazuo turned to the plump man and smiled. "My apologies, I lost myself in thought. You were saying?"
Kazutaka awoke with the aroma of tea leaves in his nostrils.
Looking at the ceiling, he felt an odd ache in his chest. A sort of longing that he never felt when he remembered his parents. Even if months passed since their death, he grew accustomed to life without them. It didn't take long for the comfort to set in. Before they died, their immediate family became even more distant after his father's spectacle in the foyer.
Kazutaka knew his mother's friends sympathized with her. He overheard their talks the weeks following the event. Since he was too young for adult conversations, he happily disappeared from their sight. Curious on their words, he found a door that was unseen to their eyes where he overheard their words.
The servants turned an eye to his actions and went along with their duties.
Although, the butler patted his head before rushing to get him a chair to sit on. Then, handed him snacks and a drink before he retreated.
Kazuataka was surprised to learn that these women were the victims of cheating as well. Some even dealt with a child outside of their marriage who became an open secret to their circles. After all, the child couldn't take their father's last name without embarrassing the man's family.
He was glad his grandfather stepped in before his father made the mistake of changing Saki's name. Sharing the same father was one thing, he didn't want to share his last name with his father's son as well.
Excluding the complicated feelings on each of his parents, he mourned them, but not to the extent of the stranger in the tea house.
Sitting up on his bed, he checked the time. His mind registered the time before he jumped out of the bed and jumped to the shower. Throughout his morning routine, he forgot all about his strange dream and went along his day.
Kazuo found out the name of the charming tea server.
Tsuzuki Asato.
The owner of the tea house assumed the young man offended him. Kazuo didn't enjoy seeing the immense glee in the man's eyes over the possibility of reprimanding his staff. He heard rumors of this man finding reasons to berate his staff behind closed doors and in front of customers. He cared little if he made a spectacle of his staff to show his power over his employees.
It was a classless act to behold and overhear.
Classier establishments hid discord behind closed curtains and didn't disturb their customer's day. If there were complaints, owners or management would handle the issue with the customer first and then their employee. Days prior, Kazuo over heard the owner berate a server who was slow in speed and broke a pot from avoiding collision with a table.
He intervened before the atmosphere soured from the whole debacle. The young woman sent him a grateful look, but hid it before her boss noticed. He barked at her to clean the mess before turning to him, simpering to avoid his ire. Kazuo fought hard not to tell the man how to run his business.
A wonder the place managed to run with such a demanding and greedy boss.
Waiting in eagerness, Kazuo watched as Tsuzuki walked through the curtains, carrying a tray of tea and snacks. Tsuzuki walked over to his table, skillfully maneuvering around another server who rushed past him in a panic. Kazuo cared little of her struggles, focusing more of the oncoming figure of the man he placed his eye on.
Tsuzuki stopped at his table and began placing the tea and tea snacks down. Kazuo discreetly observed him, watching Tsuzuki's body move about to display his fit figure. The yukata was loose, but didn't hide any of his shape.
"A pleasure to see you again, Tsuzuki-san." Kazuo ignored the flinch of Tsuzuki's fingers as Tsuzuki poured him his first cup of tea.
After setting the tea pot on the table, Tsuzuki bowed low, "Thank you for your patronage."
Kazuo turned to Tsuzuki and noted the circles underneath his eyes. Either the owner overworked Tsuzuki or there were personal matters that caused this visible mar on his face. The last time he saw Tsuzuki, the young man appeared well rested and amicable.
He might have to rescue Tsuzuki from his own life.
"You'll be seeing more of me from now on," Kazuo declared with a grin. "I'm Muraki Kazuo."
Muraki enjoyed a life of leisure in school.
His teachers spoke praises of his intellect, leaving him to his own devices. Where other students were chastised for being distracted in school, he was undisturbed when his mind wandered off. Anytime his teachers asked a question, Muraki answered them, they nodded in approval before they continued on the lesson. It helped that he checked out the study plans of the week in case they called on him.
Of course, he built up resentment through the hearts of many of his classmates. He was the number one student of their school, always ranking above everyone in every single test. It would be ridiculous of him not to notice the vitriol, but he learned to soothe their jealousy over through a guise of helpfulness.
Sparse study sessions worked to bust the preconceived notions he developed, but he asked for a fee for his classmates to copy his notes. At the very least, he needed compensation for his time. The weeks leading up to finals week opened his classmates pockets for them to desperately covet his perfect notes.
These classmates were not his friends, but he managed to make two friends during his schooling. To his surprise, he made one real female friend who didn't eye him for his money. Then again, Ukiyou was set for life and didn't need him for money. Oriya was to inherit his father's business and already started learning how to handle the brothel once he grew older.
Muraki learned to differentiate those who genuinely enjoyed his company or saw his last name. Safe to say, he acquired a number of acquaintances. As much as he painted himself as a welcoming person, he didn't let them know anything about himself. Leaving Ukiyou and Oriya as his two closest friends.
Oriya brought in the quips and laughter to their trio.
Ukiyou was the peaceful and gentle spirit who handled her best friends with a firm hand.
Throughout their friendship, Oriya teased him over Ukiyou's obvious crush on him. At least, he teased him out of ear shot instead of mortifying Ukiyou. Muraki knew her sensibilities were frail and wouldn't handle such intense teasing.
Muraki wasn't ignorant of her affections. Her flushed cheeks and food gift giving wasn't directed at Oriya but himself. Of course, to disguise her interest, she also brought Oriya his own share of food. Oriya more than happy to eat a home cooked meal while giving him the look over her shoulder.
More than enough girls and older women eyed him for his background and possible growth in the future.
In the back of his mind, he searched for the possible reasons as to why Ukiyou liked about him. He couldn't ask her himself. She would never admit her true feelings unless he extended his own interest in her. By then, he might not even know the whole truth from her lips. Ukiyou wasn't one to overshare her feelings, but show them in her actions.
Muraki needed an in depth explanation to showcase every fact and feeling behind an action. But, he knew when to hold himself back and simply live in the moment. He didn't dare ruin the dynamic he shared with Ukiyou. She was far more tolerable than the other girls who watched him with sparkles in their eyes.
An alliance, well marriage, with Ukiyou wouldn't be frowned upon. Their grandfathers knew one another before their grandchildren were a concept for existence. They would approve of their mutual decision to marry. Stopping any means of an omiai from being sent to their homes.
Whenever Muraki watched Ukiyou, he saw a safe future with her.
Marrying her wouldn't fulfill his lifelong expectations, but she was a safe escape.
"May I ask you a question, Tsuzuki-san?"
Tsuzuki finished wiping down the table and placed his attention onto Kazuo. "Sure."
Kazuo internalized his glee in Tsuzuki's response. It took work, but Kazuo managed to break down Tsuzuki's walls and they started a friendship. Of course, he hid his intentions well enough to where Tsuzuki didn't notice his leering eyes. Had Tsuzuki noticed his interest, he might not react favorably before they established their connection.
Kazuo was certain Tsuzuki was attracted to him. There was no way Tsuzuki found a woman appealing. He observed the man more then enough times to note his lack of interest in beautiful women. Tsuzuki would stare for a moment, but avert his eyes almost immediately.
There were instances where Tsuzuki looked at brown haired and brown eyed women. Not in lust or interest. More so with a look of sadness. Maybe, a woman betrayed him or someone with those features was important enough to linger in his mind.
He would soon replace whoever she was with his presence.
"Do you enjoy working?"
"Here?" Tsuzuki checked the curtain that separated the main room, thinking his boss would come out.
Kazuo waved off Tsuzuki's concerns. "Don't worry about your boss. If he knows what is best, he should keep his ear away from private conversations." He reached out and gripped Tsuzuki's hand, gaining a confused expression in return. "Would you like an easy life?"
Tsuzuki furrowed his brows. "Life is never easy, Muraki-san." He looked down at their connected hands. "I don't understand. Are you trying to hire me away from my job?"
"Something like that." Kazuo smiled. "I was wondering if you would like to have an arrangement with me. Nothing too fussy. You just have to live-"
Tsuzuki ripped his hand away from Kazuo. "No!"
Confused, Kazuo said. "No?"
Tsuzuki backed away from Kazuo. His eyes wide and terrified at the offer he was given. There were days he went hungry, but he wasn't hungry enough to submit himself underneath another person for money. To become a mistress to a man's whim wasn't something Tsuzuki was willing to do.
"I-I have to go. Sorry." Tsuzuki turned around and almost bolted out of the floor. The curtains slapped against the wall during his retreat, causing the patrons to look toward Kazuo's table to spy on their situation.
Kazuo wasted no time in tossing money onto the table and walked out of the tea house.
Muraki woke up in immense fury.
After all, Tsuzuki-san rejected Kazuo's offer of interest. It was a stupid rash decision on his part. From Tsuzuki's lack of name in his files, it was blatantly obvious that he was destitute. Lucky enough to work in the big city despite the high number of unemployment in the area. Even the most desperate of men would take up a discreet mistress position in order to keep food in their bellies.
Tsuzuki could had lived the rest of his live in the comfort of a warm, fluffy bed. Lavished with gifts, passionate nights, never to go hungry again. Kazuo planned on furnishing Tsuzuki's living space with everything he desired. Anything to keep him from thinking about running away in favor of Kazuo's attention.
Tsuzuki threw it away because of his pride.
It was unfathomable for Muraki to process.
It wasn't odd for men to fool around with their own gender. In fact, many noblemen kept male mistresses and their wives turned a blind eye. After all, men couldn't produce evidence of an affair in the form of a child.
Unless, Tsuzuki experienced heartbreak because of another man. Causing him to close the idea of ever thinking of starting another relationship with a man. Although, Kazuo's memory showcased Tsuzuki's solemnness when it came to brown haired and brown eyed women.
Maybe, he was disillusioned with love.
Sighing, Muraki went through a sequence of breathing exercises to calm himself down.
He couldn't believe he reacted in such a way to a dream. After all, Kazuo might or might not be real. These memories were possibly a concoction of his own imagination. Almost as if he thought of a long winded scenario that played out in his dreams. He used a great uncle's face to act out an inner deep desire to a man he found attractive.
Running his hand over his face, he got out of his bed and pushed thoughts of Tsuzuki out of his mind. He couldn't think of him when he spent time with Ukiyou. Ukiyou wouldn't notice his distraction, but Muraki knew he thought of another person.
As much as he cared for Ukiyou, he lusted over Tsuzuki-san.
Later on in the future, Muraki's heart sped at the sight of Tsuzuki Asato.
The image his grandfather captured didn't do the man justice. A man without a soul showcased a tragic beauty, but to see him walking around presented his features in a better light. He didn't imagine Tsuzuki having dimples when he smiled or to catch his eyebrows furrowing when deep in thought.
Muraki could spend hours looking at him.
But, this wasn't the right time.
He snapped into his doctor mode and treated the child.
The mother of the child hovered around him, quick to ask about her child's condition. Muraki handled her questions patience as she fussed about. Tsuzuki stood on the side, watching in fascination over his professionalism. Muraki learned early on in his career to control his emotions and keep calm in front of patients. He couldn't show panic unless he wanted chaos to ensue.
Seeing the impressed twinkle in Tsuzuki's eyes made Muraki's heart clench.
Having Tsuzuki in front of him was different than seeing him act out in his dreams. He swore he smelled hints of sugar and musk. An interesting mixture for someone of the undead. He thought he would smell decay or death, but there was nothing of the sort. He was relieved of that fact.
Maybe, Tsuzuki's role as a shinigami brought back a semblance of being alive. For shinigami to interact with the living, they couldn't smell off putting but he wasn't sure.
Discovering Tsuzuki's new role was through Muraki's in depth research. His resources presented the other world as a possibility for him to conduct his revenge. In the process, he stumbled into remarks of the most powerful guardian in the ranks of the Judgement Bureau. Muraki wanted to use this person as the vessel for Saki. A regenerating unliving body would soothe Muraki's need of revenge.
He already tested out his developing abilities through various subjects. He brought back the dead with their original body, placed curses, and saw the opportunity to transfer a body onto a new one. He was one step closer in completing his life goal before he settled down with Ukiyou.
She deserved a calm and peaceful life. He was fortunate of her immense patience over his constant disappearing acts. She asked no questions, but wanted constant reassurances he was alright.
He conceded through simple phone calls, but he divulged nothing of what he did. She didn't need to know of the darkness of his soul.
When the child woke up, the mother thanked him with a grateful smile. She dismissed herself, taking her daughter along with her who waved goodbye. Tsuzuki laughed in amusement at the girl's cheerfulness. Her ability to bounce back was something Tsuzuki found fascinating.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Tsuzuki grinned. "A pleasure to meet you doctor, but I have to get going now."
Muraki reigned in the temptation to plead for the man to stay.
His revenge against Saki meant little if he could have more time with Tsuzuki Asato.
Kazuo met up with his cousin, Muraki Yukitaka to distract himself from the rumored fate of the man he longed for. To think, Tsuzuki Asato escaped him in death. Kazuo planned a way to seduce the man into his bed despite the initial rejection. He prepared a fortune, a lavish home, and gifts to convince Tsuzuki to give into his desires.
Everything went into ruin because of Tsuzuki's actions.
He couldn't help but sulk about his failed plans. Mourning the possibility of having Tsuzuki in his life. After all, he had not felt such emotions since he was young. His infatuation caused him to deter from his responsibilities. Something he didn't think would happen to him.
At least, he could get back to his normal routine without temptation.
After sharing a cup of tea, Yukitaka served him again before they began chatting. Kazuo tried not to tune out when Yukitaka began his tirade against his wife. A match made through comparing wealth and the wife's family were almost equal in status. She married into the Muraki family to solidify a pact and bring in an heir to keep her place.
"The woman wants me to throw him to the streets." Yukitaka sneered. "She has no clue of the medical breakthroughs this man could accomplish if studied. All she thinks about is luxuries and the latest fashion. I put her in her place through threatening her spending fund. She should consider herself lucky I haven't taken a mistress!"
"Well, you work long hours in your clinic, cousin. Of course, you have no time to entertain a bed partner." Kazuo slurped his tea. "So...this young man is a charity case."
Yukitaka sighed. "I attempted to find family or someone to claim him, but no one stepped forward. I couldn't even find out his name. For now, I address him as Young Man, or Unknown Name in my files."
Kazuo arched a brow. "You're normally not this magnanimous, cousin. I get the fascination of whatever he is showing to you, but I somewhat see your wife's point. You won't make money from keeping someone who's not paying anything. Consider yourself blessed that grandfather gifts us money whenever he pleases. He has the funds to do so."
Yukitaka waved off Kazuo's words. "Well, this man could be the link in healing patients' injuries or illnesses. He recovers from everything that managed to hurt him. That is a valuable ability to have!"
"Maybe."
Tsuzuki.
Tsuzuki was alive.
Kazuo kept in his shout of delight when he recognized Tsuzuki in the bed. After all, the tea house owner claimed Tsuzuki died when he went looking for him. There was no concrete reason, but the owner didn't care enough to find out the truth. The town accepted the rumor as fact. No one knew the man enough to jump in to verify if he was cremated or left town.
They were wrong.
Tsuzuki was right in front of him.
Alive and breathing.
Yukitaka went through the usual physical exam, but Tsuzuki remained pliant and comatose on his bed. His chest rose and fell, his one exposed purple eye blinked, but he did nothing more than stare out the one window in the room.
Yukitaka sighed. "I've done everything in my power to see if I could transfer his rapid healing, but nothing works."
Kazuo snapped his attention from Tsuzuki's body to note the overabundance of bandages. "You don't mean..."
Yukitaka noted his cousin's pale face before he chortled. "Oh no. In moments of clarity, Young Man tends to injure himself or attempt to escape. These bandages are his latest attempt. I'm sure they have healed by now." To prove his point, he unwrapped his patient's arm and exposed his flawless skin. "See? This happened yesterday."
Kazuo gulped. "I-I see."
Yukitaka rebandaged him before he stretched his patient's limbs. First, he bent the arms and massaged the skin. Being careful in not causing any particular harm, he switched to the legs and repeated the same actions.
Kazuo's previous sliver of fear dissipated at the sight of Tsuzuki's legs. His lower half twitched at the sight of Tsuzuki's tanned and muscular legs. Thoughts of those thighs clinging to him as he fucked him made him breathe heavy. But, the sight of his cousin touching those legs made him break from his imagination.
"I have no idea where he came from." Yukitaka admitted. "He was brought here by the local law enforcement when they realized he still breathed in air. I noticed people avoided answering my questions. No one in this town would tell me anything about him. He might have been a criminal for all I knew. But, I doubt it. He seemed to be a troubled man who couldn't handle life anymore."
Kazuo nodded his head. "It appears so..."
The repercussions of Muraki's lifelong revenge against Saki brought the ire of the man he desired.
To see Tsuzuki hold onto the Kurosaki heir, lean on him for support and strength, made Muraki want to destroy the boy. Tsuzuki appeared comfortable touching Kurosaki as he placed his weight onto him. Their powers combined, encasing them in a brilliant colorful hue.
Muraki could activate the curse and further hurt the boy. It would be easy. So easy. But, he stopped himself before he activated the curse. Tsuzuki would further despise him. Muraki didn't need Kurosaki heir's ability to figure out Tsuzuki's feelings for him. Tsuzuki found him revolting and despicable. The previous fascination with him was replaced with hatred.
Something that Muraki couldn't believe hurt him deep in his heart.
The Kurosaki heir positioned his hands, Tsuzuki's voice echoed through the room, introducing a gorgeous phoenix into the once dark room.
"Come out, Suzaku!"
Kazuo returned to the clinic multiple times with a simple rose in hand.
Yukitaka amused Kazuo's crush for his Young Man and let him roam around as he pleased. Other doctors wouldn't have done so, but Kazuo considered himself lucky that he was his cousin's favorite relative. It wouldn't do him any good to get into an argument with him. Yukitaka would prohibit him from returning to the clinic and possibly move Tsuzuki into a different area.
Kazuo exercised his patience through not snapping at his cousin. He pushed down his irritation of the way Yukitaka addressed Tsuzuki, his Young Man. Despite the fact Yukitaka fancied women, it didn't stop the unrelenting jealousy. Yukitaka touched Tsuzuki with familiarity, a clinical touch, but a touch nonetheless.
He wanted to reveal Tsuzuki's real name, to give him less panic in a possible naming accident. Yet, the idea of revealing Tsuzuki's name might bring family members to claim him. Also, his cousin would question why he didn't disclose Tsuzuki's name when he first saw him.
"My Young Man should be awake by now." Yukitaka chuckled. "Go ahead."
Kazuo didn't need to be told twice before he entered through the door and rushed down the hallway. Eager to notice a sliver of a breakthrough in Tsuzuki's progress.
Before he made it to the room, his cousin's assistant walked out of a room. A young woman in her late teens with black hair and brown eyes who chastised him the first time he tried going to Tsuzuki's room. She even tried to shoo him away before Yukitaka intervened. Introducing him to her before she bowed low, apologizing for her overstep.
After Yukitaka set her straight, she now greeted him, ignoring his blatant romantic gestures for her job duties. Although, there were instances where her eyes lingered on the roses he brought along, rising disgust showed on her face before she rushed into another patient's room.
Ignoring her, he rushed into Tsuzuki's room, closing the door shut behind him. He didn't lock the door. Yukitaka would question him in his reasoning behind his actions. Kazuo didn't have a ready answer and would again cause a reason for Yukitaka to ban him from his clinic.
Placing the flower in the vase, Kazuo turned to look at Tsuzuki.
Tsuzuki stayed still. Unmoving, ignorant of his surroundings and to the people who entered his room. Kazuo greeted him, unfazed at the lack of response. Yukitaka warned him that nothing seemed to break Tsuzuki from his daze. It was almost as if he was buried deep inside of himself.
Meaning, he could do anything and Tsuzuki wouldn't push him back.
Gulping, Kazuo walked closer to him and leaned down. His face hovered near Tsuzuki's cheek. Ready to brush his lips against his skin, his heart pumped in his chest. He felt like a youngster again. His heart fluttered and his hands sweat from nervousness.
He managed to make skin contact when Tsuzuki flinched.
Leaning back, Kazuo was surprised to see Tsuzuki's one eye staring right at him. Tsuzuki never strayed his attention away from the open window. No matter what Yukitaka said, Tsuzuki's body only did reactionary muscle spasms, not actual movements.
"I-"
Tsuzuki turned his attention to the vase that contained the fresh red rose before he struggled to sit up.
Without thinking, Kazuo helped him sit up straight. He tried not to giggle in glee at touching Tsuzuki's body and kept his hands on him. Without his assistance, Tsuzuki would fall back down onto the bed. His weak muscles kept him from moving about.
Relief filled his chest at the notion of Tsuzuki possibly making improvements.
It was as if the impossible happened.
All of a sudden, Tsuzuki raised his arm, slamming it against the vase. The vase fell onto the floor, crashing into pieces. The rose lost some petals, but retained most of its beauty.
Kazuo sighed. "Goodness, your reflexes are horrid. I think Yukitaka will help you regain better muscle strength." He didn't want to take his hands off of Tsuzuki, but he did it to maneuver the sharp pieces away from Tsuzuki's bed. "You should consider yourself lucky. I don't clean up after-"
Behind him, Tsuzuki slid off the bed and landed on his knees. Tsuzuki wasted no time in grabbing a piece of the broken vase. Tightening his grip, the sharp edges broke into his skin, causing him to bleed.
It was perfect for him to try again.
Kazuo peered back at Tsuzuki and realized he slipped off the bed. "Shit." Focusing on Tsuzuki, he reached out his hands and placed them underneath Tsuzuki's armpits, readying himself to pick him up.
Tsuzuki lifted his arm and stabbed Kazuo straight in the heart before he did the same to himself. Both of them fell onto the floor as Tsuzuki kept the piece of broke vase in place.
"T-Tsuzuki-San-" Kazuo croaked out, bringing Tsuzuki's eyes onto him. A moment of glee passed through Kazuo. Tsuzuki recognized him. Recognized his own name.
His vision pricked with black spots as he tried in vain to apply pressure on his wound. He didn't regret agitating the man into action. After all, his last moments were filled with Tsuzuki's handsome face looking down at him.
Kazuo's scream brought in his cousin who didn't know who to attend to first.
Not that it mattered.
Both men died from blood loss in no time at all.
Finally, Tsuzuki Asato died as per his wishes. Free from the world.
Coughing up blood, Muraki stabilized himself on a random surface. The sudden removal of the blade caused Muraki to yelp out. His tight shirt and blazer rubbed against the wound. Aggravating a sensitive area even more. Hissing through clenched teeth, he wiped away the blood trickling down the sides of his face.
Looking up, the green tinted lights illuminated his hideout, revealing the wiring that connected to the tank that contained Saki's corpse. A floating head and a revealed spinal cord. Those milky white dead eyes peered at the chaos of the room, seemingly mocking Muraki over his carelessness.
Muraki ignored the mental jeers. No. He couldn't look back at him. Not in that moment.
The smell of cleaning solutions filled the enclosed area. Concealing the liquid used to keep Saki's corpse from disintegrating into nothing. Pickling him in a sense. It worked well enough to keep him physically there. He wasn't sure if the transplant would work, but scientifically, he needed to try.
Medical equipment littered the room, fully stocked for any dangerous situation. He could check himself and tend to his own would. There were needles, medical grade string for stitches, and antiseptic. He couldn't bring himself to touch his injury or grab his supplies. Muraki couldn't keep his eyes off of Tsuzuki.
Even underneath those dull lights, he appeared beautiful.
He watched as Tsuzuki reverted back to the disassociated place from his past. A familiarity of Tsuzuki's blank stare and sudden disregard for life made a chill run up his spine. The inner darkness of Tsuzuki's soul came forth to seek his death. To his shock, he wasn't afraid. He found it liberating to have this man's attention on him, only on him.
The flashback of his dream coincided with his current situation.
Stabbing was a prolonged and tedious process. The intimacy of the action brought them closer, almost to the point of joining as one.
Tsuzuki uttered out. "Let us die together." His arms lifted, almost in prayer, as he chanted the mantra of his shikigami.
Muraki mused out loud. "To see this as my end...again...how tragic."
Tsuzuki's eyes flickered down, stomach dropping at the sight of a face from his past. Almost as if time turned back, returning him to a period where he suffered greatly. Punishing him for his existence, for the fact he breathed the same air as others.
Tsuzuki thought to cancel the spell, but it was too late. Touda slithered in through the fire, announcing his presence.
The fire consumed the contents of the hideout. Bringing forth the singeing smell of burnt objects from various materials. All consuming ash filtered the air, giving no room for the pair to breathe or survive.
Tsuzuki dropped to his knees, his mind further disassociating from his surroundings.
Muraki barely kept his eyes open as he watched Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki sat on the floor, his eyes blank, face expressionless. Having given up in escaping from the unrelenting flames. In between the fire, he admired his beauty and power.
As Muraki lost himself to the darkness, he overheard the Kurosaki heir plead to Tsuzuki. It appeared the boy managed to get through the flames, uncaring for his own safety. He begged Tsuzuki to remain alive and not give up his will to survive.
Knowing Tsuzuki's fondness for that boy, he surely complied to his wishes.
And it didn't hurt Muraki any less to know that he lost Tsuzuki.
Again.
The end.