AUTHOR'S NOTE: La la
Tsuzuki
Breathing and the occasional rustle of movement came from the bed parallel to his own, but other than the small distraction, he had only the sound of his own heart beating slowly in his chest to fill an empty void. The curtains were drawn open, allowing threads of light from the moon to filter into the near silent room. Unable to sleep, he had been looking out that window, hoping for a glimpse of something -- anything. His eyes had already traced all the constellations, memorized the craters of the moon. What more was there?
The small form in the other bed. Breathing softly, slowly, evenly. Tsuzuki watched his chest rise and fall rhythmically, in tune to each quiet breath. He had one arm tossed carelessly over his stomach, the other tucked beneath the sheets pulled up to just below his shoulders. His sleep was peaceful. It had not always been that way. Tsuzuki remembered his fitful nights, nights he had woken from some nightmare, others he had been able to reach him in time.
Always, Hisoka clung to him in those moments, seeking some kind of solace from him. He would assure him that it was all right, that he had nothing to fear; that if anyone came for him, he would chase them away. It's all right, Hisoka. It was just a nightmare. I'll be here, go back to sleep.
He had believed it was true, that he would always be able to chase those nightmares away. He was the one that was meant to be strong, to be supportive, the anchor. It had changed so quickly. Hisoka had become that for him, an anchor, a supportive arm. He needed him. To assure him that everything was all right, to promise him that the bad times would go away, to say that he would be there.
His eyes moved from the window, glided across the floor, the lithe form tangled in sheets, to his own bed. It was still unmade. He was tired, but sleep would not come to him. Pacing had made it worse. There was an ache in his legs, dull, but sharp enough that it pained him to stand up. But he had not wanted to lie down and attempt to sleep. Images filled his mind when he closed his eyes, memories of blood, faces passing before him, the eyes of ghosts. Things he never wanted to see again.
Hands gripping the armrests of the chair he was seated in, Tsuzuki slowly eased himself up. His feet, covered in slippers, made a faint swish-swish sound as he slid across the tile floor. Hisoka continued to sleep, peacefully, carelessly. Tsuzuki watched him a moment. He deserved a moment of tranquility. He deserved far more than that. But if this was the only moment he could have . . .
He smiled, almost laughed. Hard to imagine such a face, when those eyes were open, could twist into such a fearsome scowl, a bland look of distaste, a roll of eyes with some sarcastic comment. In sleep, he looked no more than the child he was -- just a small, innocent boy that had his life stolen away from him too quickly. Too soon, too young.
He's cute when he's quiet, he had thought once, a long time ago, when he had first met his young partner. Maybe I'll kiss him.
But no. He had simply lifted his hand and gently brushed the long, untamed strands of golden from his face, and sat looking at him for a long moment. Peaceful and quiet in sleep, but when he was awake . . . Hisoka could not easily be described in a few words.
He lifted his hand in the way he had done before, brushed his fingers through his hair, slowly and gently, not wanting to jostle him from sleep. He had thought he was irritating. An arrogant teenager had been his impression, but with something more to him . . . there had been an underlining feeling he had not understood at that moment. He hadn't understood until he learned of Hisoka's pained history.
It was the same as his own. He had suffered for so long, and then died. He had never found a respite to his sorrow.
I always wanted to hold him. To comfort him. To be comforted.
His fingers brushed slowly over a pale cheek, lit up by the moonlight. Warm to the touch. Hisoka was always warm. He had always felt undeniable comfort when he held Hisoka in his arms, felt Hisoka's warmth seeping into him. It was a feeling that banished all of the images from his mind, let him forget, even for just a moment.
The bed creaked beneath their combined weight. Tsuzuki hesitated, afraid that Hisoka would be woken by the sound.
Idiot, he would snap, what are you doing?
He would have laughed, blushed maybe, and said something ridiculous. Sorry, Hisoka, I'm sleepy, so I guess I forgot that this is your bed!
Hisoka didn't move. The rhythmic pattern of his breathing did not even falter a beat. Relieved, Tsuzuki let out a breath of air he did not know he had been holding in.
I want to hold him. For my comfort . . .
Was it selfish to have the desire? No. It was not only for his own comfort, he wanted to hold Hisoka so that Hisoka could feel his warmth, know what it felt for him to have someone wrapped in you, around you, holding you, warming you, comforting you.
Hisoka moved under his touch. Only slight, adjusting his body. Tsuzuki waited, fearing even to breathe. But his partner calmed after a moment and lay unmoving, only his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes were closed, arm across his stomach. His fingers were brushing Tsuzuki's sleeve unknowingly.
Tsuzuki gently put his arm over Hisoka's, his fingers brushing along the bare, warm skin. With each breath, his arm moved, in beat with the pace of Hisoka's slow, even breathing, with the ascent and descent of his chest. He watched. It was not hypnotic, not mesmerizing, but he watched. And he listened.
"Can I stay with you?"
He closed his eyes. Hisoka had nodded. He had said yes. Yes, he could stay with him. Yes, he would be there for him, an anchor, a supportive arm, a place to return to, a home.
Hisoka . . .
He breathed in with Hisoka and breathed out with him. His mouth and nose were pressed close to the back of his young partner's neck; with each breath he could smell the faint scent of strawberries. And something like mint, beneath the smell of the strawberries, almost hidden -- shampoo and soap. Smells befitting of Hisoka. It made Tsuzuki smile.
He had been so willing to die in that moment. It had been all he had wanted. He had lifted his arms to Touda, beckoning him to destroy the building, destroy Muraki, destroy him. The flames had intensified around him, the foundation of the building had begun to crack and crumple. His path of escape was blocked, and there had been no turning back.
If I should die . . . I wouldn't feel . . .
He had felt the flames licking at him, embracing him, wrapping him up in their warmth. Over the dull roar, and the faint sounds of Touda, fading away into the flames, he had not been able to hear the voice calling him.
Countless people have died because I exist. I realize . . . I must not exist any longer . . .
"Stay put! I'm coming to get you!"
His arms tightened around Hisoka; his eyes squeezed tightly shut. No one had ever come for him. No one had ever wanted to save him. He would have died in that moment, but Hisoka . . . Hisoka had come for him. Hisoka had held him, cried on his shoulder, begged him to stay.
"Then stay for my sake! I don't want to be alone anymore!"
No one had ever cared before. No one . . .
"I need you."
He couldn't die. In that moment, he had begun to matter -- he existed. Someone needed him. Someone needed him, and he could never leave him. He could never leave Hisoka.
But if you leave me . . .
Hisoka continued to sleep, peacefully, undisturbed. Tsuzuki slowly opened his eyes.
I would not stop you.
But . . . I just want to have this moment . . . wrapped in the warmth of you . . . loving every breath . . .
He was grateful for but a moment. If a moment was all that could last, if a single moment in eternity mattered, it was the moment he held Hisoka. The world didn't matter. Being a Shinigami didn't matter. The sins he had committed, the crimes he was guilty of, the things he had done that brought him such shame -- none of them mattered.
Only Hisoka mattered, in one single moment.
I want to stay here. I want to be with you.
I need you.
Hisoka
It's always the same in the morning. The feeling biting at the edge of his consciousness, telling him that it was morning and that he should get out of bed and greet the new day. The only problem was that his bed was so warm. The covers so soft and light on his body, the bed sinking down to hold his weight and the feeling of not having to think about anything was what kept him in bed. That wasn't just it though. There was something else, something that he could really put his finger on.
Finally giving up trying to steal another moment or so of sleep, Hisoka opened his eyes slowly. It's quiet. That was the first thought that entered his mind. It's quiet. Usually, he would be glad that it was quiet. Glad that his morning wasn't ruined by loud annoying squeals from the Hokkaido pair or the loud whining of his partner. His partner. Tsuzuki... Turning his head to the side, he found that Tsuzuki's bed was empty. Not only that but it was neatly done, as if he hadn't been sleeping in it at all.
A frown crossed his face.
Sitting up, he continued to observe the other man's bed. The pillow was still plush, as if Tsuzuki's head had never rested upon it. The sheets were still smooth; no lines were visible upon the deathly white sheets as they rested there on the bed. Tsuzuki's bed looked as if he hadn't actually slept in it since he was able to move off of it.
Frowning once more, he laid back down.
That's when it came to him. The small tingly feeling of… something. Not something that made him shiver in fear and disgust, not something that made the short hairs on his arms and legs rise. A something that was… familiar. Familiar like the sun shining down on his back as he walked side by side with Tsuzuki. Familiar like the way Tsuzuki's hair would be blown across his face whenever a breeze crossed their path. Familiar like the way Tsuzuki would smile at him and tease him and worry over him and… be there for him.
That's when he realized what it was. It was Tsuzuki. It was the feeling of Tsuzuki next to him even when he wasn't there. The comforting warmth of that was Tsuzuki alone.
He turned in his bed, resting on his side as he gazed at Tsuzuki's empty bed.
He could faintly feel him. He could faintly feel the warmth still lingering on his bed. Closing his eyes, he pressed his face deeper into his pillow and breathed. It was Tsuzuki. Yet it wasn't because Tsuzuki wasn't there. Yet it was him all the same. Taking in another deep breath, Hisoka curled himself up into a small ball. His hand fisted itself with his blanket as he pulled the pillow closer.
It would have been strange to find that Tsuzuki's scent could put him at ease. It would have been strange to find that he didn't find the thought of Tsuzuki's scent on his bed alarming. It would have been strange that he felt safe even when Tsuzuki wasn't there.
Yet it wasn't.
It wasn't because it was Tsuzuki.
It was Tsuzuki that was currently all around him at that moment. It was Tsuzuki on his pillow. Tsuzuki on his blanket and Tsuzuki in his bed. It was Tsuzuki wrapping himself all around him.
And that was home.
"My place to return to is here."
How long ago had he said that? A few days ago? A week? It didn't matter. What mattered was that it was true. Pulling the sheets closer to his body, pulling the faint feeling of Tsuzuki closer to his chest, Hisoka closed his eyes. Home. The one place that would welcome him over and over again. The only place he could run to when he was scared. The one place that would keep him warm and loved and safe and needed. Home. The place where he was greeted by a smiling face and not a cold hard hand. The place where all he needed and wanted was already there. Home.
A mother to tell him to eat because he looked like he would be faint any minute.
"Hisoka! Here, have some of this! It's really good!"
A father to watch over him silently with a stern yet gentle face.
"That's good, Hisoka. That's good."
An older brother who taught him how to do things.
"Just follow me, Hisoka. I'll show you."
An older sister who smiled at him in that understanding way when no one could, or should, be able to understand him.
"Hold my hand. I can see in the dark."
A younger brother who whined and begged.
"Please, Hisoka! Just a short break!"
A younger sister who was scared and needed to be protected.
"He said… I wasn't human."
Home. Where the things that completed the word 'family' could be found. It was all in Tsuzuki. Everything he would ever want and need could be found in that childish man. He would've sputtered at the thought of needing someone as much as he needed Tsuzuki if someone had told him so when he first became a shinigami. Of finding someone who could stand for everything he ever wanted in life, something that only in death he was able to find.
Life was strange sometimes. It would make you suffer only to give you something that would be forever important in your life in the end. Would make you wait until you least expect it to present you to a fool that would change your look on life. A fool that would somehow worm his way into your mind, into your body and into your thoughts until all you can do was just stand there and let him win you over. Even when you try to fight back.
Home. He would protect his home. He would care for this place and watch over it. He would go wherever Tsuzuki would go. He would follow Tsuzuki into the depths of Hell or high above into the Heavens. Anywhere Tsuzuki wished to go, he would follow. He would stand beside Tsuzuki. He would be there should Tsuzuki stop and look over his shoulder.
He would hold his hand and never let it go.
"I won't be separated from you. I won't let go of your hand a second time…"
Opening his eyes again, Hisoka gazed around the room. The window was open and the cool morning air filled the room. He inhaled. Not the cold morning air, but the faint scent of Tsuzuki. He was alone in the infirmary but it didn't matter because he was safe.
Safe in the warm thin blankets on his bed. Safe with the soft pillow supporting his head and the soft bed carrying his weight. Safe with the thought of Tsuzuki wrapping his arms around him as he slept.
He was safe here. Tsuzuki had made it so because Tsuzuki was here.
He was here… and Hisoka didn't feel like getting out of bed just yet.
Closing his eyes again, turning his face once more into his pillow, Hisoka promised to himself that he would get out of bed soon.
He breathed in again.
Not yet… just… not yet.