Authors Notes: Sorry this chapter took so long. It happened like this because... Well, because I had absolutely -no- idea where to go with it. This whole story started as a "Wouldn't it be cool if...?" thought-- but the scene I had planned out isn't for a chapter or two yet, so until then I'm floundering.
Let me know what you guys think, ne? Particularly: Is everyone in character? Is the plot moving along? Does the writing really suck? (I finished it too late at night to bother a read-through to check myself ^^)
Warnings? Yaoi. Watari's weird potions.
Enjoy!
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Outside Looking In
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Chapter 3
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"Well," a voice said, intruding its way into semi-consciousness. "I guess we're going to have to wait until he wakes up."
Silence met the reply, but it was an unhappy silence. Full of reproach, and an angry sort of worry; apparently, the conclusion wasn't a satisfactory one.
The voice tried again, preceded by a nervous little laugh. "C'mon, bon-- cheer up. After all, it did what it was supposed to." A slight hesitation, and a waver of uncertainty. "To you, anyway. And he's breathing normally-- and his heart rate's fine."
Cautiously, Tsuzuki opened an eye, squinting against the too-bright ceiling lights. After a moment, Watari's figure took shape against the white electric glow, and he was struck by the fact that the floor was awfully high up, considering the fact that he came to the scientist's waist. Approximately two full seconds after that insight, he became aware that the floor was also somewhat softer than he remembered it. And was suddenly, fiercely glad that Hisoka wasn't privy to his thoughts-- because the boy would have called him ten kinds of idiot for not realizing that he was lying on a bed.
Cracking open the other eye, Tsuzuki peered upward; a blonde scientist loomed above him, expression cautiously cheerful. "Worse comes to absolute worst," he continued optimistically, "I designed the formula to wear off in twenty-four hours."
A suspicious, careful sort of hope blossomed from just outside the violet-eyed shinigami's range of vision, and he tipped his head slightly to see Hisoka perched stiffly on the edge of a chair. The boy's expression was carefully neutral. "But -will- it?"
"Of course," the blonde replied easily. "I made it specifically for an individual possessing your powers, so there were some unexpected results. But even so, the formula isn't concentrated enough to last longer than a day." The wave of confidence that came with the assertion was reassuring, in a way that the man's words would never have been.
Moving awkwardly, as though under a great weight, Tsuzuki pushed himself into a sitting position. He felt their surprise at the sudden motion, and offered a shaky smile, violet eyes searching. "What was that all about?"
Watari narrowed his eyes, lowering his glasses to regard the other man over the rim. "Your hitting the floor?" At the uncertain nod, the blonde took a deep breath, exasperation floating into the already-cluttered mix of emotions. "Actually, I was hoping you could tell me."
Two pairs of eyes, one a narrow gold, and one a wide, deep green were fixed on him, expectation thrumming through the air with every breath the man took. Blinking slowly, he realized that he -could- tell Watari what had happened. Because... well, there was nothing else that it could have been.
"I can feel you both," Tsuzuki announced, simply. When confusion rose up to meet the statement, he clarified. "Feelings. Emotions." He frowned, an expression that came very near a childish pout. "Does empathy have to go somewhere when it disappears?"
For a moment, Watari's shock was strong enough to blot out everything else-- and then the following excitement crashed over him with frightening force. "Really?" the scientist demanded, taking a seat on the bed. He was oblivious, Tsuzuki realized, of the fact that his emotions were so strong; the nearness made them overwhelming. "So you think you might have Hisoka's empathy? That's fantastic!"
Ignoring the boy's muttered response, the taller blonde pushed away from his seat, propelling himself across the room to retrieve a clipboard. "Tell me what's different. And what made you lose consciousness." The man considered, tapping his pen against the metal at the clipboard's top. "And how you feel."
With the distance that Watari had placed between them, he could feel his partner again, and knowing for once what the boy felt was strange beyond any ability of words to describe.
The young shinigami's expression was purposefully disinterested, the bright green eyes not lingering too long in any one place, and particularly not on Tsuzuki. His body language was carefully relaxed, though the effort to keep from nervous tapping was beginning to wear. Outwardly, he was calm. Uncaring, even. But... there was rising alarm in Hisoka's heart, and with the feeling came a crashing realization as to why he was so afraid.
Always before, his partner had known what everyone else felt, had known their hearts. He'd spent so long hiding his own that the idea of sharing it was terrifying, to say the least.
"Tsuzuki?" Watari cocked his head, pen poised to record. "Let's hear it-- I need the data to go with this. Scientific process, and all."
It took a minute for the violet-eyed shinigami to recall the questions, and he started a little guiltily. He hadn't been staring at his partner, had he?
"Let's see," Tsuzuki started, frowning thoughtfully. If the scientist needed data, then he deserved honest answers. "Only thing different is empathy. As far as I can tell, that is. I passed out because of your experiment-- the touching one, not the potion." The man paused a moment, brow furrowing in thought. "Well, the one with the potion, too, but the part with the touching in particular."
When the older shinigami remained silent for a long moment, Watari prompted him along. "And right now, you feel...?"
The answer needed no consideration. "Hungry." He turned a hopeful smile to his partner, pleased beyond words at the startled wonder that he felt beginning to stem from the boy. "You got those pastries, right, Hisoka?"
* * *
Barring Watari's suggestion-- which had revolved largely around throwing the office party early, in order to allow a game of truth or dare where Tsuzuki could call the players on false truths-- they only had two options. The first was to wait out the duration of the formula, which was an alternative that put Hisoka a bit ill at ease. Twenty-four hours with a Tsuzuki that could read his every emotion was a disaster waiting to happen. The second choice, however, was even less appealing: let the scientist experiment in his lab, and hopefully come across an antidote. Side-effects unknown, of course.
And so it came to be that Hisoka watched his partner warily as the man finished off the second of the blueberry pastries. They'd returned to the office when it became clear that Tsuzuki wasn't going to pass out again anytime soon, and had resumed their previous tasks. Which is to say, Hisoka was looking on with feigned agitation as the violet-eyed shinigami did everything in his power to avoid filling out the forms that cluttered their desks.
"Sankyu, Hisoka," his partner proclaimed, licking pastry crumbs from long fingers. "You even remembered blueberry!"
The boy couldn't quite stop the little flush of pleasure that the words brought; it was still strange, after being ignored for so long, to be thanked for such a little thing. To have any attention at all... gods dammit, and now Tsuzuki would know that.
Green eyes narrowed, Hisoka pinned his partner with an accusing stare, gathering an edge to his words in order to make up for the mistake. "Empathy doesn't affect the hands," he pointed out acidly. "Usually, I don't have any trouble filling out forms."
Tsuzuki wilted, his violet eyes huge and pleading. "But, Hisoka..." he attempted, eying the stacks of paper distastefully. "Watari said I should take it easy!"
The boy folded his arms, looking pointedly away in order to resist the beguiling begging-puppy appeal. "We aren't on assignment," the young shinigami pointed out reasonably. "It isn't even background work-- just forms."
Not for the first time since Tsuzuki had awakened, Hisoka was grateful that they didn't have a case. The boy had difficulty interacting with crowds, and he'd been an empath for his entire life; the disaster if Tsuzuki attempted to mingle in his current state threatened to be of monumental proportions. At least in the office, filing paperwork, the young shinigami felt confident that he could keep an eye out for the idiot...
Tsuzuki, of course, completely overlooked the point. "You do care!" he squealed, at exactly the same moment that his partner realized how obvious his concerns must have been to the new empath. "I knew it! I knew it!"
"Idiot," the boy was quick to snap, feeling his face burn. He was moving for the door before he knew why. "Just finish the work."
"Eh?" The older shinigami blinked, confused and suddenly deflated. "Where are you going?"
Hisoka thought about it for a short while. "To find Tatsumi," he said eventually. "I need to talk to him."
"About what?" The pen was abandoned in favor of the conversation, and the boy had a sneaking suspicion that it would hold the same position when he returned.
With a twist of the doorknob and a short step, the young shinigami was out and halfway into the hall. He had to fight the impulse to tell Tsuzuki that it was none of his business-- because it was. "I want to ask how to put up walls, the way he does."
"Walls?" There was confusion in shining violet eyes, and Hisoka silently cursed any gods that happened to be listening. He couldn't tell whether his partner was asking an honest question, or if the innocence was an act.
"To keep you out," the boy snapped in response, regretting the harshness of the words as soon as they left his mouth. But sorry was too difficult to say aloud, and by then, he was closing the door behind him and moving down the hall, in search of Tatsumi.
Besides, he reflected wryly, it wasn't as though Tsuzuki couldn't feel the silent apology.
~end part 3~
Let me know what you guys think, ne? Particularly: Is everyone in character? Is the plot moving along? Does the writing really suck? (I finished it too late at night to bother a read-through to check myself ^^)
Warnings? Yaoi. Watari's weird potions.
Enjoy!
===============
Outside Looking In
===============
Chapter 3
===============
"Well," a voice said, intruding its way into semi-consciousness. "I guess we're going to have to wait until he wakes up."
Silence met the reply, but it was an unhappy silence. Full of reproach, and an angry sort of worry; apparently, the conclusion wasn't a satisfactory one.
The voice tried again, preceded by a nervous little laugh. "C'mon, bon-- cheer up. After all, it did what it was supposed to." A slight hesitation, and a waver of uncertainty. "To you, anyway. And he's breathing normally-- and his heart rate's fine."
Cautiously, Tsuzuki opened an eye, squinting against the too-bright ceiling lights. After a moment, Watari's figure took shape against the white electric glow, and he was struck by the fact that the floor was awfully high up, considering the fact that he came to the scientist's waist. Approximately two full seconds after that insight, he became aware that the floor was also somewhat softer than he remembered it. And was suddenly, fiercely glad that Hisoka wasn't privy to his thoughts-- because the boy would have called him ten kinds of idiot for not realizing that he was lying on a bed.
Cracking open the other eye, Tsuzuki peered upward; a blonde scientist loomed above him, expression cautiously cheerful. "Worse comes to absolute worst," he continued optimistically, "I designed the formula to wear off in twenty-four hours."
A suspicious, careful sort of hope blossomed from just outside the violet-eyed shinigami's range of vision, and he tipped his head slightly to see Hisoka perched stiffly on the edge of a chair. The boy's expression was carefully neutral. "But -will- it?"
"Of course," the blonde replied easily. "I made it specifically for an individual possessing your powers, so there were some unexpected results. But even so, the formula isn't concentrated enough to last longer than a day." The wave of confidence that came with the assertion was reassuring, in a way that the man's words would never have been.
Moving awkwardly, as though under a great weight, Tsuzuki pushed himself into a sitting position. He felt their surprise at the sudden motion, and offered a shaky smile, violet eyes searching. "What was that all about?"
Watari narrowed his eyes, lowering his glasses to regard the other man over the rim. "Your hitting the floor?" At the uncertain nod, the blonde took a deep breath, exasperation floating into the already-cluttered mix of emotions. "Actually, I was hoping you could tell me."
Two pairs of eyes, one a narrow gold, and one a wide, deep green were fixed on him, expectation thrumming through the air with every breath the man took. Blinking slowly, he realized that he -could- tell Watari what had happened. Because... well, there was nothing else that it could have been.
"I can feel you both," Tsuzuki announced, simply. When confusion rose up to meet the statement, he clarified. "Feelings. Emotions." He frowned, an expression that came very near a childish pout. "Does empathy have to go somewhere when it disappears?"
For a moment, Watari's shock was strong enough to blot out everything else-- and then the following excitement crashed over him with frightening force. "Really?" the scientist demanded, taking a seat on the bed. He was oblivious, Tsuzuki realized, of the fact that his emotions were so strong; the nearness made them overwhelming. "So you think you might have Hisoka's empathy? That's fantastic!"
Ignoring the boy's muttered response, the taller blonde pushed away from his seat, propelling himself across the room to retrieve a clipboard. "Tell me what's different. And what made you lose consciousness." The man considered, tapping his pen against the metal at the clipboard's top. "And how you feel."
With the distance that Watari had placed between them, he could feel his partner again, and knowing for once what the boy felt was strange beyond any ability of words to describe.
The young shinigami's expression was purposefully disinterested, the bright green eyes not lingering too long in any one place, and particularly not on Tsuzuki. His body language was carefully relaxed, though the effort to keep from nervous tapping was beginning to wear. Outwardly, he was calm. Uncaring, even. But... there was rising alarm in Hisoka's heart, and with the feeling came a crashing realization as to why he was so afraid.
Always before, his partner had known what everyone else felt, had known their hearts. He'd spent so long hiding his own that the idea of sharing it was terrifying, to say the least.
"Tsuzuki?" Watari cocked his head, pen poised to record. "Let's hear it-- I need the data to go with this. Scientific process, and all."
It took a minute for the violet-eyed shinigami to recall the questions, and he started a little guiltily. He hadn't been staring at his partner, had he?
"Let's see," Tsuzuki started, frowning thoughtfully. If the scientist needed data, then he deserved honest answers. "Only thing different is empathy. As far as I can tell, that is. I passed out because of your experiment-- the touching one, not the potion." The man paused a moment, brow furrowing in thought. "Well, the one with the potion, too, but the part with the touching in particular."
When the older shinigami remained silent for a long moment, Watari prompted him along. "And right now, you feel...?"
The answer needed no consideration. "Hungry." He turned a hopeful smile to his partner, pleased beyond words at the startled wonder that he felt beginning to stem from the boy. "You got those pastries, right, Hisoka?"
* * *
Barring Watari's suggestion-- which had revolved largely around throwing the office party early, in order to allow a game of truth or dare where Tsuzuki could call the players on false truths-- they only had two options. The first was to wait out the duration of the formula, which was an alternative that put Hisoka a bit ill at ease. Twenty-four hours with a Tsuzuki that could read his every emotion was a disaster waiting to happen. The second choice, however, was even less appealing: let the scientist experiment in his lab, and hopefully come across an antidote. Side-effects unknown, of course.
And so it came to be that Hisoka watched his partner warily as the man finished off the second of the blueberry pastries. They'd returned to the office when it became clear that Tsuzuki wasn't going to pass out again anytime soon, and had resumed their previous tasks. Which is to say, Hisoka was looking on with feigned agitation as the violet-eyed shinigami did everything in his power to avoid filling out the forms that cluttered their desks.
"Sankyu, Hisoka," his partner proclaimed, licking pastry crumbs from long fingers. "You even remembered blueberry!"
The boy couldn't quite stop the little flush of pleasure that the words brought; it was still strange, after being ignored for so long, to be thanked for such a little thing. To have any attention at all... gods dammit, and now Tsuzuki would know that.
Green eyes narrowed, Hisoka pinned his partner with an accusing stare, gathering an edge to his words in order to make up for the mistake. "Empathy doesn't affect the hands," he pointed out acidly. "Usually, I don't have any trouble filling out forms."
Tsuzuki wilted, his violet eyes huge and pleading. "But, Hisoka..." he attempted, eying the stacks of paper distastefully. "Watari said I should take it easy!"
The boy folded his arms, looking pointedly away in order to resist the beguiling begging-puppy appeal. "We aren't on assignment," the young shinigami pointed out reasonably. "It isn't even background work-- just forms."
Not for the first time since Tsuzuki had awakened, Hisoka was grateful that they didn't have a case. The boy had difficulty interacting with crowds, and he'd been an empath for his entire life; the disaster if Tsuzuki attempted to mingle in his current state threatened to be of monumental proportions. At least in the office, filing paperwork, the young shinigami felt confident that he could keep an eye out for the idiot...
Tsuzuki, of course, completely overlooked the point. "You do care!" he squealed, at exactly the same moment that his partner realized how obvious his concerns must have been to the new empath. "I knew it! I knew it!"
"Idiot," the boy was quick to snap, feeling his face burn. He was moving for the door before he knew why. "Just finish the work."
"Eh?" The older shinigami blinked, confused and suddenly deflated. "Where are you going?"
Hisoka thought about it for a short while. "To find Tatsumi," he said eventually. "I need to talk to him."
"About what?" The pen was abandoned in favor of the conversation, and the boy had a sneaking suspicion that it would hold the same position when he returned.
With a twist of the doorknob and a short step, the young shinigami was out and halfway into the hall. He had to fight the impulse to tell Tsuzuki that it was none of his business-- because it was. "I want to ask how to put up walls, the way he does."
"Walls?" There was confusion in shining violet eyes, and Hisoka silently cursed any gods that happened to be listening. He couldn't tell whether his partner was asking an honest question, or if the innocence was an act.
"To keep you out," the boy snapped in response, regretting the harshness of the words as soon as they left his mouth. But sorry was too difficult to say aloud, and by then, he was closing the door behind him and moving down the hall, in search of Tatsumi.
Besides, he reflected wryly, it wasn't as though Tsuzuki couldn't feel the silent apology.
~end part 3~
