Warning: Massive jams between updates. Hazardous writing up ahead. Beware of slowly crossing grammar mistakes.
Spoiler: Uh . . . Kyoto arc? Wait, no, I twisted that here, too. ^^;
Disclaimer: . . . . . .
About: Um . . . does lots and lots of angst count as a type of plot?
Keepsake – Chapter One
He ran a hand through the honey strands, enjoying its silken quality as they slipped through his fingers before moving them down to stroke the tender skin beneath his partner's bang, marvelling at its softness. Frowned at the wounds that were still mending, despite the Shinigami's healing capabilities. Gently, tenderly, lightly, he swept his fingers over the rose-tinted flesh, watching as it faded back to the pale hue he was accustomed to seeing. Even through the dim light of the roaring black flames surrounding them, Tsuzuki could clearly see the difference between Hisoka's fair complexions and his own large, tanned hands.
Hands that were covered by sheens of unseen blood.
Once, he had thought redemption would be impossible. There was no way a forbidden black sheep could possibly turn into an innocent white lamb. No way a stained sheet could possibly compare to a pristine cover. No way a sinful demon like him could possibly shed its sickening physique and become human.
To have hope.
To find happiness.
To be trusted.
But the boy, a mere child compare to his own age, had changed all that.
The fire crackled, and soared higher, its black depth racing towards the sky. Tohda, his faithful Tohda, continued to call forth the searing heat.
Hisoka slept on, blissfully asleep in his partner's embrace.
Amethyst eyes gazed down at the deceptively fragile figure in his arms, and held him tighter, brushing his knuckles softly over dried tearstains. A wave of contentment washed over him.
A smile touched his lips. "I love you," he whispered, as a mother would to her child.
Movement.
He looked up expectantly, his hands never ceasing to stroke the soft hair of his beloved. The shadow of a fallen pillar twisted and grew before his eyes, until a familiar form emerged.
Cerulean eyes, the colour of a clear summer sky, met his own directly.
"Come."
Tsuzuki held his gaze for a second longer, then returned to the slumbering figure in his arms. What trials must he have gone through to leave him in such an exhausted state? And for him, no less?
He smiled again, and smoothed a golden strand away from the closed lids, briefly shutting him own. "No."
There was silence. But that was to be expected, wasn't it?
No?
It wasn't the answer Tatsumi had expected. He had arrived just in time to hear Hisoka's confession. Watched with an aching heart, not knowing whether it was throbbing from relief or with pain, as Hisoka fell sound asleep from exhaustion. Heard Tsuzuki's whispered confession as unbidden tears seared his own eyes. 'No' was not the answer he expected. 'No' was not the reply he wished.
"Tsuzuki, come," he repeated.
The air burned.
Tsuzuki shook his head, a small, yet genuine smile still present on his lips. He leant down, and pressed a lingering kiss on the pliant ones below him before looking up to meet the other's eyes. "Promise you'll take care of him for me."
He knew then. He knew, peering into those bottomless violets that this would be . . . farewell?
"I love you." The words fell out. The three little words he had struggled to keep suppressed, struggled to express all those years, fell out.
Tsuzuki looked at him sadly. "I know."
For once in his life, Tatsumi found himself at a loss. No, that wasn't true. When it came to dealing with those soulful amethysts, he had always been rendered helpless. Since the first time he laid eyes on the man before him, he had lost. Given himself completely and utterly to the man who so resembled his beloved mother.
He knew, right from the start, that his story, their story, would not have a happy ending. But he was content to merely watch as the story progressed, as all patient readers do. Watch as another stepped in to filled the position he had left empty since he exited the scene. Watch as his replacement slowly mended and patched up the torn pages, making it whole once more. No, he was overestimating himself. Hisoka had never been the replacement. Tatsumi had just been the minor character that covered gaps until the protagonist arrived.
But he thought it would all be worth the wait. To see the happy couple declare their undying love and live happily ever after, that is how a happy ending is suppose to be, is it not? Isn't this what he had been waiting for, despite the bittersweet tearing of his heart?
This is not how the story should end.
"No." The weak whisper that escaped his lips was not a sound that anyone would expect from the infamous secretary in EnMaCho. But there it was, barely heard through the crackling heat that towered over them, casting eerie shadows that danced and shifted across their skin.
Tsuzuki tilted his head in an innocent gesture, his lavender eyes sad. "I'm sorry."
Tatsumi closed his eyes. "Sorry isn't enough," he hissed through gritted teeth.
Don't cry . . . Oh Gods, don't cry . . .
Anger took over, urged forth by pain and sorrow. "How? Damn it, how can you be so selfish?!" A hand gestured towards the sleeping blonde in his arms. "He loves you! I love you! Isn't that enough for you?!"
Clear amethysts stared at him, silent.
Fury . . . could never hold out long against him. Tatsumi forced himself to look away.
"Asato . . . " A bare whisper.
"Promise me. When I'm not there . . . Protect him."
What could be said?
Mutely, he nodded. Then, a gentle warmth was placed between his arms. Instinctively, Tatsumi's arms tightened around it, looking down to see the sleeping blonde he was meant to protect in place of his love. Slowly, his eyes drifted upwards, his eyelids heavier than usual, catching sight of a retreating back.
He opened his mouth, but not a single sound came out. Is that it? Is this all he could do? Here he was, watching someone he had loved, had cherished for the past decades, and all he could do is watch as the other walks towards Thanatos's awaiting arms?
As if hearing his words, Tsuzuki turned.
"Tsuzuki ----"
"When Hisoka wakes up . . . " A gesture towards his partner. "Please tell him not to be sad, and that . . . And that . . . I love him too."
Crushed. The small surge of hope that had rushed forth upon a mere turn was mercilessly trampled upon, leaving him deadened live a dried leaf. Numbly, he nodded again.
Lilac eyes crinkled in a smile. "Thank you. You have always been kind."
'Kind'. Was that all he was to him?
"Don't go . . . " The words slipped past his mouth, too late. Glazed blue eyes tried to search for a familiar figure amongst the hissing black flames. Found none.
And then . . . the shadows took over, enveloping him in its amorphous embrace.
~~~~~~
You are sure about this, Tsuzuki?
Long and serpentine, Tohda rose up above his flames, his onyx scales glimmering incongruously in the black light.
Tsuzuki stood, an unseen wind ruffling his raven hair, his expression tranquil as he watch his companions vanish before his eyes. "Aa."
Why?
The human smiled. "You've become nosy, Tohda."
The Shikigami did not answer, merely stared at him expectantly.
He turned back to stare aimlessly into the distance. "Because . . . I want them to be happy."
I may not be able to understand human emotions, but I do believe I know a pain-stricken expression when I see one, Tsuzuki.
Tsuzuki chuckled, a smile wistful. "Perhaps, for now. But they will be happy. I know it."
How do you know?
"I have faith."
From a distance, the crumbling sound of yet another collapsed pillar was heard.
"Tohda?"
The slight turn in his direction was the only indication that the serpent-like summon was listening.
"No matter what happens, or what they tell you, I . . . thank you."
There is no need for gratitude. It is my duty to fulfil your commands.
For a minute, a glimpse of the infamous sheepish grin and puppy tail was present on the Shinigami's face. "Yeah, well . . ."
There was a brief silence.
I will take care of him. If that is what you wish.
Relief. "Yes. It is. Thank you."
Silence.
"Tohda?"
But the Shikigami did not reply. For he already understood.
~~~~~~
Watari waited anxiously as he watched for the slightest, unusual twitch of shadows, any shadows. He had no doubt about Tatsumi's abilities, but there were two lives at stake here, three if he counted the secretary. Even Shinigamis have their limits. Being burned by Hell's black flames was one of them.
Suddenly, as if sensing his thoughts, the flames soared higher, licking the thin panel of roofing above his head. He took a step backwards, his mind already focused on chanting yet another small prayer for his friend's safety.
Then, as if the Gods had decided to answer his plea, his own elongated shadow began to shift, growing and expanding until they revealed two very familiar forms.
Wait minute . . . two?
A dreadful sense of nausea settled across his stomach.
Bon.
Tatsumi.
Where was Tsuzuki?
"He wouldn't come . . . " a choked whisper drifted to his ear. Watari watched, faintly comprehending, as the man he had come to recognise as a pillar of strength, fell to his knees before him. "He wouldn't come . . . "
"Tatsumi . . ." Helpless. Pangs of pain were slowly staring to register. Pain from the loss of a friend. Could it possibly compare to the loss of your love?
"He wouldn't come . . ." Clutched at the bundle in his arms even more tightly. Like a lifeline. A lost dream. An eternal promise.
The young blonde stirred, a small frown creasing his honeyed brows. Nuzzling against a foreign form, dreaming of a fantasy misled, Hisoka slept on.
~~~~~~
And then . . . he was beyond pain.
Tsuzuki opened his eyes, and found himself upon a bridge. Beneath his was a sea, no, an entire ocean of threads. Glimmering against one another, resting on a backdrop of non-colours, of a rainbow of colours, it was the most beautiful scene he had ever seen in his century-long life.
Then he saw it. Saw the meaning behind their intricate paradigm, the complex, yet simple weaving done by experienced, godly hands.
The Threads of Life . . .
Slowly, he walked forward, completely in awe at the sight before him. He saw million Threads sparkled into Life, burning brightly, worming its way to find its own unique pattern. He saw the Light within other Threads diminish, then ceased, leaving behind a legacy of knots. He saw a dozen Threads that continue to be Spun, growing longer than all others.
Something caught his attention. Unwittingly, he lips quirked upwards as he watched the Threads progress, entwined.
"Asato . . . Aa-chan?" A voice drifted over, its soothing quality nostalgic. He turned, as his heart began to beat a little faster.
There, a tall, lithe figure stood, her ink black hair swaying to the softly humming breeze. She stared, her pale pink lips slightly ajar, her violet-blue eyes wide open.
A century of longing stood before him.
Since when did she become so small?
Feeling the irrepressible urge to grin, Tsuzuki took his first step on the other side of the bridge. Encircled the slightly smaller frame into an embrace he thought lost a hundred years ago.
"I've missed you, Nee-san."
End Chapter One
I've got my half-yearlies starting tomorrow, a bunch of studying yet to do, only half of the next "Loving You" chapter written (that thing just keeps getting longer T_T), an Easter story to plan, my major work to be done . . . and here I am, starting yet another epic with no clue as to what's happening next. What am I, crazy (don't comment)?
Anyway, you can probably see that this is going to be centred around Tatsumi and Hisoka (as usual . . . ). No, not together . . . okay, maybe together. I don't know, I haven't really thought about it (I'm not too keen on Tatsumi x Hisoka, though. Been there, done that . . .). It could very well end up being Tohda x Tatsumi, or Kijin x Hisoka. ::shrug:: We'll see.
Oh, last thing. Fanfiction.net fans: ratings. Yet another thing I suck at. Would you rate this a "PG-13" or a "R"? Personally, I'd rate this a "MA", but Fanfiction.net doesn't have that, so . . . I'm going to stick with a "PG-13" for now, but if you feel that's too low, don't hesitate to tell me.
Yes, I've been rambling a lot here. Why? Because I'm sick of talking to textbooks. They never talk back. ::Walks off to stare blankly at more parametric questions::