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Searching for Eden
Two
By RubyD
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Hisoka impatiently shifted in his chair, feeling moody and just a little ill from the after effects of taking a trip through their new ward's mind. The air was stuffy, and he really did not appreciate the heat. He and the others were in the lab just down the hall from the recovery room Muraki was sleeping in. The window was opened though no breeze came through.
Across from him, Tsuzuki was peeking curiously over Watari's shoulder, trying to decipher the techno-babble on the computer screen. The scientist clutched a small lock of silver hair in one hand, bringing up data with the other. Comparing genetic information.
"What's that?" Tsuzuki asked, pointing to a symbolic picture of a bunch of bubble-like things all twisted up. A strand of DNA.
"Thymine," Watari said cheerfully, "It's one of the four bases of a nucleotide that are found in DNA. Thymine is paired with adenine in DNA sequences and is replaced by uracil in mRNA. I thought I've explained this to you before?"
"Uh," Tsuzuki replied. He understood, sort of - he had heard all about it back when coming across information on Professor Satomi and his cloning research. "Just forgot. There's a lot more to know now than when I was young."
"Maybe your memory is slipping in your old age," Hisoka retorted.
"But I'm so well preserved! This skin, this hair," he answered with a playful tilt of his head. One of the perks of being dead - you never looked your age. "Aren't I, Hisoka?"
The teen blinked, then scowled. "Why are you asking me that?"
"Because then it would be true." He nodded for emphasis.
Hisoka arched an eyebrow. Where was the logic in that? "… People can lie."
Tsuzuki reached over and ruffled his hair, risking serious injury. "But you never lie to make me feel better!" Then he shielded himself with the same arm from his young partner's glowing glare.
"What?" he said darkly, hands on counter and leaning forward. Was that some kind of unintentional insult?
"No! No! I mean it as a good thing!" The man composed himself and also leaned over the table, not noticing that he was suddenly right in front of an irritated Hisoka's face. "You're honest." Then he added, beaming, "Thank-you."
At the soft force of Tsuzuki's voice, Hisoka's harsh expression melted away into one of slightly embarrassed confusion. "I - ah . . . " The power of speech failed him for the second time that day. He had no response, feeling very flustered, if oddly pleased. Then, he blushed, realizing just how close his partner was. Stupid; if either of them moved just a little bit further . . .
Hisoka froze, like a deer, unable to do anything but stare into Tsuzuki's eyes. They were so bright, so alive. How horrible would it be if he had to live without seeing them ever again, or to have his last memory of them be flat and empty? He swallowed thickly; his partner had not moved and continued smiling, as if still waiting for his answer.
"Y-you're welcome," Hisoka stuttered lamely. Damn it.
With a hoot, 003 decided on this moment to hurl her cute and feathery tail through the window. Spotting Tsuzuki she zipped around his head, maybe hoping for a treat (or crumbs of recent adventures through sweets), and in return the man literally pounced on her with joy.
"003," he said, sitting back normally and petting the tiny owl. "How's the night, 003?"
Hisoka blinked at the abrupt departure of the Shinigami's violet gaze. "Idiot," he muttered. At least, he didn't feel quite as ill anymore. There was a quiet cough, though it was the kind that someone did to hide a laugh. Glancing up, he caught Watari watching.
"Now, was that in reference to him, or yourself?" the scientist said. He held a knowing and smug quirk in his lips.
"Excuse me?" he said defensively. "Shouldn't you be working?"
The quirk grew into a grin. "Never mind, just thinking out loud," Watari intoned, ducking back to the keyboard as Tsuzuki continued cuddling the aerodynamic ball of fluff.
"Got anything?" Tsuzuki finally asked after a minute. 003 cooed and fluttered off to sit on the top of the computer.
There was another short pause before Watari spoke, "I have the results of the DNA test."
"And?"
"And, from the hair we took off of that boy, then comparing it with one of Muraki's hair we received back in the Kyoto case…" He clicked his mouse a few times, bringing up graphs and two pictures - one of Muraki, and of the teen that attacked them - with a series of numbers running underneath. "The DNA matches perfectly."
Hisoka blinked. "Perfectly?"
"Yes."
"So the one sleeping down the hall . . . " he trailed off.
Watari nodded. "He, in all evidence, is Muraki Kazutaka."
"But, he can't be!" he protested. "His - his mind - isn't at all like Muraki." "Genetically, they're exactly the same, even accounting for the difference in ages."
"Do you . . . " Tsuzuki murmured thoughtfully, "do you think he could be a clone?"
"I suppose that's possible." The blond rubbed his chin, a small spark of interest in his eyes. No matter the situation, he always enjoyed figuring out difficult questions. "But cloning is very recent and the boy here looks to be seventeen or so. And there is no proof of tampering or decay in the DNA."
The youngest Shinigami shook his head. "And how would he know you, Tsuzuki?"
"Could memories be cloned?" he asked.
"Technically, that's impossible," answered Watari. "Your memories and overall personality are based off of experience, not your genes. It's what makes us who we are. For example, identical twins, who are almost like natural clones anyway, if raised apart can become totally different people."
"But don't they become more alike than different?" the teen pointed out.
"That's true . . . I guess it depends on the circumstances." He sighed. "And we won't be able to find anything else until the boy wakes up and we ask. How long is he going to be out?"
Tsuzuki gave a guilty look. "I'm not sure; I wasn't thinking when I used the spell." That was dangerous - he could have very easily put him in a coma.
"It's okay," Hisoka interjected. "Don't worry."
"He should be sleeping until morning, at least." Tsuzuki nodded.
The scientist removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I'll tell Tatsumi about this as soon as I can - he's finishing up paperwork about your last assignment. So I suggest that you two stay here for the night, just in case our visitor decides to wake up. We don't know what he's capable of, if anything."
"Where, uh, should we sleep?" Hisoka asked, cheeks turning slightly pink. Damn his reflexes.
Watari smiled, amused. Damn him, too. "Take the patient room next door to his. There are two beds. Use them both, if you have to," he said deliberately. "The blankets should be in the closet."
Hisoka glowered at his tone, wishing that the man's long hair would wrap itself around his neck and squeeze. The blond continued to innocently smile.
"Sankyuu, Watari!" Tsuzuki answered brightly, missing the silent exchange completely. The man latched on to the younger's arm, pulling towards the door. "Come on Hisoka! Lets get snacks from the vending machine before going to bed!"
"Wha - what? But I'm not tired yet," Hisoka argued. Well, maybe a little.
"I know," he said as they exited. "But you've had a busy day, and sleeping is good! And so is food."
"I . . . idiot, didn't you buy cakes in Nagasaki?"
A wail of despair echoed down the hall. "I left them back in that alley!"
In the lab, Watari laughed.
*
Tatsumi shut the last of his folders and documents as a rapid knock came from the office door. "Enter," he ordered crisply.
The door squeaked open and a mop of yellow hair poked in, smiling warmly yet meaningfully, in the way only he could pull off. Tatsumi gave his own tired one in return. As Watari liked to say, smiles were free, after all.
"Hey, Tatsumi," he called, holding up a large paper bag. "Did you remember to eat today, with all the work? I thought Tsuzuki had the right idea, so I brought some snacks. Meat buns all right? Even if they are a day old . . . "
"Oh," he blinked, the quick dialogue shaking him out of the calm silence of the job. Then, more polite this time, he added, "that's fine, thank-you. Please, come in." Watari shut the door quietly behind him and took a seat in front of the immaculate oak desk. "What brings you here, or is my health the only reason?"
"I wanted to see how the infamous shadow master manages to stay up all night and not fall over," the scientist joked. With a soft rustle, he planted the bag on the desk and took out what looked to be two medium-sized plates made from curved glass. Tatsumi was almost afraid to ask. Lab supplies doubling as dinnerware, no doubt. As long as it was clean and untouched by any recent insane experiment.
"Force of habit."
The food was set out with two styrofoam cups of tea, poured from a thermos. Watari scooted half of the items towards him. "And coffee? A lot of coffee, I bet . . . Besides, I came to update you on the stray that Tsuzuki and Bon picked up, remember?"
"Ah, yes." He lifted a bun and took a bite, savoring it for a moment before chewing and swallowing. Truthfully, he really had forgotten to eat dinner. "You couldn't have called?"
"But I would have missed out on your glowing personality." He chuckled. Tatsumi simply answered him with a dark look. "How rude - I mean, I brought you food and everything."
"I'm sorry," he said without a hint of apology in his voice.
"Liar!"
He sipped at his tea, and ignored the accusation. "So, what have you come to tell me?"
The man swirled the tea in his own cup for a moment, suddenly somber. Warm eyes were pensive, figuring out the best way to say what he knew. Tatsumi waited patiently, curious, until Watari finally said, "We think the person they found is Muraki."
He choked. "Muraki? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Standing, he made a motion towards the exit. "Is Tsuzuki - "
"Tsuzuki is fine," Watari broke in. "Don't jump to conclusions! And Muraki is sleeping."
Tatsumi was dumbfounded. "Sleeping?"
"Yes, and won't be up until tomorrow. Sit and calm down," he ordered firmly. The secretary paused, debated on a course of action, but obeyed. "Let me explain."
Watari swiftly described what the pair had told him and the events of the past hour.
Tatsumi rubbed his temples when he finished. "So what you're saying is that - "
"Yes."
"And that he's - "
"Most likely."
"And we're going to have to wait until - "
"Yup!" he exclaimed, downing his tea, then making a face. They had finished the buns and the drinks were already getting cool. "I think you're updated, now."
He adjusted his glasses, considering. "And what am I supposed to do?"
"Nothing, really. Go home, get some rest, then come back in the morning."
"That's it?" Tatsumi blinked.
"That's it."
". . . You really could have simply called."
"Oh?" The blond tilted his head. "Weren't you hungry?"
"I was . . . "
A bright smile. "Then is there a problem?"
A sigh of surrender - he wasn't going to start bickering about such a small matter, anyway. "No. And thank-you . . . and I'll leave as soon as I file these papers. You might want to go home sometime and get some sleep, too," he said pointedly.
"Right, right, I'm going," Watari answered with a wave, shoving their leftover junk into the paper bag. There was a distinct musical tinkling as one of the glass plates had knocked too hard into the other and shattered. They both winced. "And the cot in my lab's just fine. You just pack up, or whatever . . . then good night!"
"Good night, Watari-san."
He left, not closing the door behind him.
*
Hisoka jerked awake, unsure of where he was. His heart jumped, the first sight that greeted him being the sakura tree at the window, and he sat up. Dim moonlight, tinted only slightly pink, not red, filled the shadowed room as he blinked in confusion. There wasn't a tree in his yard. Where was he?
Tsuzuki slept peacefully on the next bed, arms strewn out into a comfortable position and mouth hanging vaguely open. Hisoka sighed quietly, remembering. They were in one of the recovery rooms.
The teen yawned and stretched, feeling uneasy. Something had woken him up. The tightness in his chest grew, and a taste of distress whispered at his edges. They were someone else's emotions. That had been what stirred him. Whose emotions?
Glancing over at his partner again, Hisoka swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, frowning. Well, it wasn't Tsuzuki's. The man was dead asleep.
Shivering, Hisoka slipped on his sneakers and padded out into the hall. He still had on the clothes from the day before, having chosen not to change into the patient robes found in the closet. Jeans and a sweater were warmer than those, anyway.
Outside the room he could hear soft murmurs coming from the next room. Lightly touching the small window on the door, his curious eyes peered through it. Muraki was . . .
He lingered on the thought. They called the boy that name for now, but if Hisoka could force himself to truly believe that kid and that doctor were the same person, he would have been too nervous to even approach the door. So instead, he just chose not to believe it.
My name is Kazutaka, he had said.
Kazutaka was having a nightmare. Sweating and tossing his head like any other dreamer, keening and panting like an injured deer.
Hisoka averted his gaze and back up a little, some how embarrassed to be witnessing another in their moment of weakness. What ever it was, it should be private. The quiet whimpers increased, the dream more painful.
. . . Someone really should try and wake him.
Yet despite his instincts, Hisoka turned towards his own room fully intent on going back to bed and wait the spell out. Then he paused, debating. He would not be getting any more sleep that night if this continued, however. Emotions were rolling off of the kid.
The kid could hit real hard, though, he reminded himself.
Another muffled cry.
Red.
There was fire.
A pair of flat, empty, amethyst eyes.
His heart ached.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Hisoka stumbled forward again, returning to the shared room. Stepping up to Tsuzuki's still form, he shook the man by the shoulder. "Tsuzuki, wake up."
His partner snorted sleepily as he returned to the world of the living. Dead. Limbo. Wherever. Rubbing his clear eyes in puzzlement, Tsuzuki asked, "What is it? Is something wrong, Hisoka?" Then he added, expression serious, "Did you want to sleep in my bed?"
That man must not be fully aware that his mouth was moving without permission from his brain. "Wake up, stupid," Hisoka ordered irritably, cuffing him on the head. Thankfully, it was too dark to see the blush coloring his cheeks. "And then try to wake Muraki up, too."
Really, he had meant to say Kazutaka, but the other name slipped easily out.
Tsuzuki tensed. "Muraki? Oh, you mean, him." Sliding the covers off he sat on the edge of the bed. He wore one of the patient robes, the kind that tied around the waist and went past the knees. "Now? But the spell will be over in a few hours."
"He . . . Isn't sleeping very well." Then he added, "And neither can I."
"Oh." He mulled over this for a second. "All right. But why me?"
"Because I don't think he'd be too glad to see me," Hisoka answered dryly. "And you're the one who did the spell, can't you undo it?"
"I've never tried, actually. It's usually simpler to let it pass."
He looked closely at him. "Want to try now?"
Almost reluctantly, Tsuzuki shrugged. "Yeah, sure."
Hisoka sighed again. Worry and caution were leaking out of the man, just enough to make the empath a little restless, too. "I don't think he's Muraki," he blurted.
Some of the tension in his partner's stance suddenly drained and his shoulders slumped. "Are you sure?" he said, not needing to ask how the teen knew what was troubling him.
"Almost positive."
Tsuzuki took a breath and stood. "All right." Taking a fuda from his coat, they left.
The pale boy was still whispering in his slumber, keening softly. Hisoka hung in the doorway, having an abrupt sense of deja vu as Tsuzuki silently approached the dreamer and keeled over him, a silhouette in moonlight. His wary expression softened when his partner gently brushed hair from the damp face before resting a hand on the forehead. Flinching away from the touch at first, Kazutaka seemed to recognize him and unconsciously nuzzled the fingers. Tsuzuki shut his eyes, grasping the fuda with two fingers, and concentrated.
"Wake."
For a moment Hisoka thought it might not have worked. Then, the panting calmed and a hushed, uncertain voice spoke up.
"Tsuzuki?"
Hisoka had a few theories of what would happen after waking him up - possibly get angry, confused, or attack him again - but Kazutaka suddenly wrapping his arms around Tsuzuki and burying him in a deep kiss hadn't been one.
***
To Be Continued
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Notes: Uh, woo?