Wow, a chapter, shock. I've alost chaptered on Terazuma fic too, which is more shocking. Sit tight kiddos, you just might get more fic out of me.

This is where it starts to get angsty, so here comes all that depressed Hisoka that you know you want. Come on, you can't deny it. How could you be a Yami fan if you didn't like angsting Hisoka? I rest my case.

~*~

From Dreams to Reality
Chapter One

He awoke gasping with the chill of sweat from the just finished nightmare already seeping through his skin.

It was the dream again, something not at all unlike from the tormented dreams that usually plagued his sleep, yet there was something…just so very different. There was always the very real presence of him in his dreams. He felt the emotion, the darkness, malice, and unrestrained lust and it was all so very real. The same darkness now lingered on his senses, still taunting him from the very edge of his perception.

Calmly, acting almost detached from himself and his own reality, he held up his hand. Staring at the pale skin of his arm, which barely stood out in contract to the white ceiling behind, it he wondered at how it could remain so blank, unmarred, like the softened stone of a porcelain doll. Fragile and beautiful yet easily shattered in a moment.

A shiver danced its way down his spine as those thoughts invaded his mind. With his emerald eyes drifting closed, he pulled his arm back to his chest and cradled it there. He still couldn't help but wonder how odd it was-the dreams that he occupied always left his skin burning with the dark crimson markings. But this one hadn't.

Once again he pulled his arm up and stared with an expression of near-awe on his face at the milky-colored skin. There was no sign of the curse. None of the marks appeared, and the burning edges of pain did not taunt his senses. Yet…the sensation on his chest from where the kanji was burned there in blood still hadn't vanished.

"No…" he whispered to himself and the empty room, "That didn't happen…"

After struggling to free himself from his blankets he stumbled to the bathroom, his breath suddenly coming short in his lungs. As the door was thrown open, he was his reflection in the mirror staring at him, skin pale and shivering, emerald eyes wide with fear, and his bare chest heaving from the deep breaths he drew. In and out, in and out. But there were no marks. No curse marred the skin of the reflection.

Relieved, Hisoka braced his hands on the counter and drew in a long deep breath. The mark wasn't there, and it never had been. Once his breath steadied, he turned the cold water on and splashed it on his face, trying to make the line between dreams and reality more real.

Again he looked at himself in the mirror, sandy bangs dripping with water, skin slightly reflective from the wet sheen. He was still himself, as he always had been, and as he would be for the rest of eternity.

"I'm just being paranoid…" he muttered, trying to convince himself of what was truth. "Right?" He gazed into his own green eyes, glared at them, softened the expression just for a moment before he closed them and shook his head, trying to dry out his damp hair.

"The dreams each night never meant anything…and neither did this one…" he continued, grabbing a towel and wiping his face off, "Tomorrow night, it'll be back to the same old thing, and nothing with have cha-"

A sharp pain in his chest stopped the words.

Breath came short once again, his hands reflexively tightened on the towel and the corner of the counter as he tried to brace himself. Sharp heat spread through his body, and for a moment he thought that he felt the welcome darkness dancing at the edge of his eyes, ready to pull him into unconsciousness, but in a moment it vanished. But the pain did not.

Moved by a force much greater than fear, he looked up to the mirror before him.

The clear bold kanji, branded onto his chest in dream, were there once more. Yet it quickly gave way to an older curse, one that he was more familiar with, though it was not identical to the curse he knew. The red lines were creeping upward from his chest, their crimson paths standing out in contrast to his pale skin as they reached for his neck, as if seeking to strangle him.

Then, in an instant, they were gone.

In that moment, his views of what was real and what was merely a dream blurred. That curse had only been created while he slept, in the world of unconsciousness. It couldn't hold sway over him while he was still awake. It just didn't make sense.

But would anyone listen to you if you told them of it? A voice in the back of his head whispered.

It was him.

He saw the shock in his own eyes, the sheer surprise at the fact that somehow he could penetrate his own mind, his very thoughts. Hastily, he strengthened the shields that kept him from the feelings around him. He could not sense any break, or anything more of the distinct feeling that emanated whenever he was near other than the passing images of the dream.

What was that?

'But would they listen…?'

Hisoka shook his head quickly. The idea was insane. Of course they would listen; they cared about him. They were the first people that he had ever really felt like calling family. And your family was the ones that cared about you…right?

Your other family didn't seem to function in that way. He pointed out.

"Shut up," Hisoka muttered to himself, even though he knew that Muraki was no where near him.

Silently, he heaved a deep breath and pushed the thoughts away. It was probably just some work of the nightmare. Perhaps his sleep-deprived mind was just conjuring images up to play upon his fears.

Yet the doubt the words had instilled did not vanish quickly, but silently Kurosaki Hisoka decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to wear a turtleneck that day.

~*~

The day was unusually cool, at least in Hisoka's opinions. Usually days in Meifu did not tend to either extreme, there was just a sort of tepid warmth that permeated through the buildings and drifted past the sakura planted outside the office windows. There was always the feeling of not-quite-cold yet nothing too hot as well. Yet it was not true on this day, and he didn't know why.

None of his coworkers seemed to notice. Tsuzuki and Tatsumi still seemed perfectly comfortable in their suits, at one point in time Tsuzuki had even taken his jacket off, and there were no complaints of the chill. Terazuma's shirt still remained partly unbuttoned, and he himself was perfectly disheveled, seeming to care nothing for the existence of any sort of unnatural cold or warmth.

But even in his dark emerald turtleneck, Hisoka was still cold. But it wasn't the sort of chill that could be easily banished with a cup of warm tea or by keeping his white trenchcoat on inside the office. Having done both things already, Hisoka still felt it, yet he would not let anyone else know that he felt at all different from how he usually was. Years of long practice at being aloof did not simply vanish within a matter of moments; it took just as many years to do away with them.

But Tsuzuki seemed to be perfectly intent on taking that time to achieve just that goal.

"Ne, Hisoka?" he asked cautiously, knowing that the blonde had peculiarly more on edge today than usual, "Are you feeling okay?"

For the time being, the two of them had been resigned to menial deskwork, not that Hisoka minded in the least. His work was long since finished, and he had decided to spend his time trying to pull through the pages of a new book. Something old, a translation of an Englishman's work, Lord of the Flies.

Glancing up from the pages of island exploration and the pull of inner carnality he managed to shoot Tsuzuki a look that, while not completely piercing, made his partner cringe slightly.

"It's nothing," he answered, returning to his reading and trying to ignore the worry pressing too close on his shields, "It's just been a little cold today." He conceded, hoping that it would make Tsuzuki feel better, or at least dampen the concern.

"I haven't noticed anything…" Tsuzuki mused to himself, for a second Hisoka was almost assured that his partner had forgotten about his well being, but not for long "Do you think you have a fever?"

"Baka," he muttered, "Shinigami don't get sick…Watari-san said so."

"Liar," Tsuzuki answered with a pout, "You didn't ask Watari about this. You haven't seen him all day."

"That doesn't mean that what he said earlier isn't true," Hisoka pointed out, keeping his voice calm and detached.

"You should still go and see him, it'd be good for you."

Normally Hisoka would have agreed with him, simply to keep his partner from worrying too much and blaming himself. But the thought of a visit to Watari wasn't a pleasant one at this time. He didn't want the scientist to start prying about his dreams, especially the one he'd had last night…and if the marks appeared then, he wouldn't want to explain it.

And he won't believe you, will he? Muraki's voice whispered at the back of his head, Then what will they think?

Shaking his head he dispelled the thought, attempting to banish the voice he knew should not be there, but he still wouldn't agree to see Watari.

"I'll be fine," he said, closing his book and putting it down on the desk. "It's just that…"

Thankfully, at that moment Tatsumi came in and saved him from further explanation.

"You two have a case," Tatsumi interrupted Hisoka's incomplete words, giving the discarded sweets on Tsuzuki's desk a disapproving glance, "We'll be meeting immediately."

Relieved from his duty to explain the situation to Tsuzuki, Hisoka quickly set his book down on his desk, not caring whether or not he lost his position, and made his way to the meeting room.

"Ne, Hisoka!" he heard the voice call after him, but he didn't turn to look back.

Why should you? He's just prying for his own gain. If he finds out about you he'll leave.

Silently Hisoka disregarded the words that the voice spoke once again. He knew, somehow, that Tsuzuki just wasn't like that…was he?

~*~

The case surrounded around a certain individual named Itori Keiko. As far as work for the Shinigami went, it was relatively simple. Keiko had died, right on schedule, but her spirit had not made its journey to Meifu. Since it remained somewhere around her home in Nagasaki, Tsuzuki and Hisoka would be sent to investigate.

Really, there was not much more to be said about it than that, but for some reason the staff meetings for cases like these always seemed to drag on forever. Hisoka suspected it was because Tatsumi was part demon, either that or he was some kind of cruel sadist. Either way, the extended amount of time he spent in the briefing room only served to make him feel more uncomfortable.

For one, not only was the strange chill somewhat stronger in that room, but it almost seemed as if he was loosing control of his empathetic shielding in the presence of more company than just himself and Tsuzuki. He knew the idea was ridiculous, but that did not counter the fact that he would still feel flashes of emotion coming from either Tatsumi, Konoe, Watari, and Tsuzuki.

It was unsettling to say the least. Even worse was the fact that none of the emotions seemed to be positive. For some strange reason, it was as if all that anyone had on their minds was negative thoughts and emotions. Silently, Hisoka wondered what was bothering everyone so much, but he did not dare to voice his questions, for beneath the underlying dark emotions he felt a very vague hinting of irritation, impatience. And something in the back of his mind fervently believed that these emotions were directed at him.

Of course, that's because they are, the voice would taunt him whenever this thought entered his mind, but just as quickly as it came it would go, leaving Hisoka confused and startled.

However, no one seemed to notice the sudden expressions of almost-fear and shock that crossed his face, which only made him worry more. It was entirely possible that they were just focusing more on the presentation Tatsumi was giving then on the slight changes in his facial expressions. Yet Hisoka had somehow become accustomed to the smallest feelings of concern and care that would ripple off his coworkers whenever he found his defenses slipping and the slightest bit of pain or weakness showing in his outward expressions. And today, those feelings were gone.

"Kurosaki-kun," Tatsumi's harsh voice broke through his pondering as Hisoka realized that he must have missed something in the briefing.

"Yes?" he asked, a slightly timid tone slipping into his voice.

"Try to pay more attention," the secretary reprimanded him as slight traces of anger tickled at the edges of Hisoka's empathy with the words.

"Hai…" Hisoka replied softly before turning to face the projection on the wall opposite Tatsumi.

The anger, more than anything, left him unsettled. He rarely could feel Tatsumi's emotions, the man had a grip like iron over his own feelings, and it was only when he felt very strongly about something that the empath was able to detect the slightest hints of emotion from his mind. But his day dreaming during a case briefing could be enough to set off anger that strong within Tatsumi…could it?

You're fooling yourself to think otherwise, boy. His voice had returned.

Shut up, Hisoka thought to himself, more than toward Muraki's voice that sat at the very back of his mind.

You can't silence the truth even if you try. I'm sure that even you know that… The words were smooth as always, as that same deep voice penetrated his mind.

What truth? Hisoka thought cautiously, unsure exactly what the mad doctor was referring.

Surely you know what I'm talking about? The voice questioned, and continued when no response issued from Hisoka's thoughts. The anger you cause him. Don't try to tell yourself it's not the truth.

What would you know about that? Hisoka snapped mentally.

Quite a bit more than you would think, boy.

What…? He was almost tempted to blink in confusion, but he knew that would only attract more attention from his coworkers. Then they would start questioning him, and who would believe him if he told them of the voice of his murderer echoing in his mind?

Exactly… Muraki's voice whispered in agreement with the empath's thoughts.

Shut up… Hisoka thought, anger rising slightly in his mind.

Even you think it's true. How can you deny it to me when your thoughts betray you?

You don't always believe what you think, Hisoka replied, trying to keep his facial expressions calm.

He heard the deep laugh echo through his mind, suppressing a shudder at the sound of it.

You really think that, boy? If you don't believe what you think…then what do you believe?

Shut up…I don't have to tell you.

You don't have an answer for me, do you?

I told you to shut up, Hisoka growled mentally, having more courage to face his murderer in his own mind instead of within the real world.

You're lying to yourself. Muraki stated shortly.

…about what?

What do you think, boy? The doctor taunted, About their concern. They don't really care about you. You're nothing in their eyes. You've seen it in the way they feel…why try and convince yourself of it otherwise?

That's not true!

Is it?

Just…

Why would they be angry if they cared?

Shut up…

Why would he be impatient and annoyed if he were concerned about your well being?

Shut up!

Why should any of them care about you?

"Shut up!"

Almost instantly, the voice vanished. However, as a sigh escaped Hisoka's lips, he noticed that the silence in his mind was met by the silence of the room around him. He had slipped. The words he meant to only think to himself had been spoken aloud for everyone present to hear.

Blinking, he took a deep breath to calm the quickly rushing fear that assailed him as he saw everyone's eyes turned to watch him. There were shocked expressions on all of their faces. No one had ever interrupted one of Tatsumi's briefings before, even Tsuzuki tended to remain quite for the majority of them.

Tatsumi's expression was still stern, almost irritated. Hisoka could feel the anger involuntarily moving against his shields. No matter how hard he tried to push it out, it only pressed harder against his mind. The strength of the raw emotions quickly swept through him. It crashed over any instances when he could remember Tatsumi ever having shown concern for his own well-being, which were already few in number, and dissolving any hope he might have had that Tatsumi might have cared for him as more than just a simple employee.

Watari had looked up from where he was mussing with plans for a new invention, and a frown creased Konoe's already-wrinkled face. They were confused, and they shared Tatsumi's anger. No one liked staff meetings, and interruptions that only served to delay the ending of such meetings were usually unwelcome. They gave way to anger, to the annoyance and heady emotions that Hisoka knew only gave way to stronger passions of hatred and condemnation if given time to fester.

However, Tsuzuki's expression was the one that struck Hisoka the most. His deep purple eyes were wide with shock and what almost seemed like fear. Fear. Of what, he was not quite sure, but he knew the feeling all too well. Fear of his own parents, fear of the voice that spoke in his mind. Yet now, it was Tsuzuki's fear. Fear, not of himself and of his own lack of humanity, but of his own partner. This was the fear that cut Hisoka the deepest.

Underneath the turtleneck, Hisoka could feel the deep throbbing pain of the curse marks. They burned on his skin…and he felt pain in places where it had not been before. The marks were spreading.

"Hisoka?" he heard Tsuzuki's voice and quickly turned his head down so that he would not have to look into those wide amethyst eyes. "Hisoka, are you okay?"

There it was, that same sense of caring and quite concern that he had grown so accustomed to. In the space of a moment, relief washed over him, smoothing away the fears and doubt that the voice of his killer had left in his mind.

"Ah…I'm okay…" he spoke softly, trying to keep his lips from showing the slightest hint of a calm smile he felt forming there.

Yet the dull throb of the scars continued, and at once Hisoka knew he could not truly be calmed yet. Even though he knew that Tsuzuki cared about him, honestly and genuinely, he still couldn't show the other man the marks. In the morning they had vanished in only an instant, and he knew that if that happened now, nothing good could come of the situation.

"That's good," Tsuzuki spoke with a smile, once again breaking through Hisoka's thoughts. "Ne, Tatsumi?" he asked, turning his best and most pleading puppy dog eyes on the surly secretary, "Are we done yet? It's almost lunch time…"

For a moment Tatsumi glared at Tsuzuki's little doggie form before the power of puppy dog eyes overcame him and he simply sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Very well then. But I expect you two to start this case immediately after you get back, understood?"

"Hai," both partners uttered in unison.

"This meeting is over then."

"Yay!" Tsuzuki cried before immediately latching himself onto Hisoka. "Ne, let's go out for lunch! I know this place with some really good Italian and-"

"Actually, Tsuzuki-san, I need to talk to Kurosaki-kun for a minute before you leave."

"Oh…" Tsuzuki blinked once before smiling, "All right! Hisoka, I'll be waiting outside, okay?"

With that he bounded out of the meeting room. Konoe and Watari had already made their ways out, leaving Hisoka to face whatever the secretary had prepared for him. He had yet to rise from his seat, so he sat, silently regarding Tatsumi with his wide green eyes. His face had worked itself into a small expression of confusion as his brows knit together, slightly creasing his forehead.

"What do you want to talk to me about?" he cautiously asked Tatsumi.

Moving around he table, Tatsumi took a seat across from Hisoka and folded his hands in his lap.

"Kurosaki-kun, are you feeling quite all right?" he asked simply.

However, this time, before the relief could touch Hisoka's mind, the voice echoed in his head.

He's only making sure that you won't mess up on the mission and cause harm to Tsuzuki-san.

"Ah…I'm fine, Tatsumi-san."

"It isn't like you to not pay attention during a briefing," Tatsumi stated with a slight frown tugging at his face, "Are you sure that there's nothing bothering you?"

For a moment, Hisoka was tempted to tell him everything. To simply burst out and tell him all the details of the dream, of the marks that were spreading from where they had once been yet vanished in an instant, about the voice of his killer that spoke in his mind, and of the strange emotions he felt from everyone, but he didn't. Somehow, even though it was nice that Tatsumi cared about him, he still didn't feel as if he would trust the other man to not criticize him.

"I've just been busy the past few nights, and I've stayed up late," he lied, "Usually I just get caught up in a book and forget what time it is…it's nothing much."

Tatsumi gave him a critical look. It was a valid excuse; the question was whether or not Tatsumi would accept it. Hisoka knew it would come down to this. He kept his face calm as he met the secretary's gaze. After a moment, Tatsumi relented with a small smile.

"Very well then, you may go. I'm sure Tsuzuki-san is waiting for you."

"Ah…thank you Tatsumi," Hisoka answered softly before he rose and left the room.

As expected, Tsuzuki was waiting for him in the hallway. The two of them quickly made their way to Chijou and Tsuzuki led the way to the restaurant. Yet along the way Hisoka still could help but ponder as to whether or not the words that Muraki spoke to him were true. He knew inherently that the doctor would lie to get his way. But there was no goal that would be accomplished by lying about those sort of things, so why would he? What was he trying to get by convincing Hisoka that his coworkers and closest friends did not truly care about him?

However, beyond that was the ever greater fear as to whether or not the words the killer spoke were the true…and if he had been simply fooling himself and creating his own illusion by believing that anyone cared about him…

~*~

Behold, there it is in all its evilness. My main premise has now been partially revealed, joys. This fic shouldn't be very long, I'm not planning on it being epic in the least, so don't expect much. Reviews are good for the writing juices you know *nodnod*