Puppet Master by Gaki

AUTHOR'S NOTE: And we're back to the regularly schedule angst! Maybe I shouldn't sound so happy.

[1] = Book #1 Nagasaki Arc. A conversation with Gushoushin about Hisoka's past lead Tsuzuki to think this.
[2] = Book #3 King of Swords Arc. Tsuzuki's thoughts on Hisoka after returning from being molested (again) by Muraki. The picture in this scene is adorable. ^_^

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People go through life trying to define the person they are. They go through life trying to build something around them, so that they can show proof that they are who they say they are.

People want to feel the sense of being; the sense of self.

Who is a person without a name? Who is a person without a family? Who is a person without a background?

But most of all, who is a person who doesn't even know themselves?

People go through life trying to find themselves. They live on, building on more and more to their life as they slowly become familiar with who they are.

For a person who doesn't know who they are would be nothing, wouldn't they?

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The room was quiet. It was lit by the rays of sunshine that shone through the window but it was quiet. It was quiet save for the cockroach that skittered across the cold floor and into a crack on the wall. The room where three people were currently in was quiet, unnaturally so. There should be some noise yet there wasn't. There should be a rustle of clothing, yet there wasn't any. There was no sound in the backroom of the puppet store. There was no sound save for the cockroach running out of the crack on the wall and skittering across the floor.

There was no sound until that same cockroach was stepped on by the sole of a white shoe as the person dressed in all white took a step forward.

Gazing down at the man who seemingly looked younger, but was his elder in so many years, Muraki raised an eyebrow. "I did not hear you, Tsuzuki-san."

What he said was true when he had commented that Tsuzuki's eyes were beautiful when they were angry. Such a wonderful color his eyes were, like lavender on black velvet. And they were now burning with such intensity, such determination that he felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. He knew Tsuzuki knew that this was all a well thought up game. He knew that Tsuzuki knew how much he enjoyed this. He knew that Tsuzuki thought he was doing all this still to have him.

And he had meant it when he said it wasn't. Oh, it would be too easy to tell Tsuzuki that all he needed to do to save his partner was to hand himself over. It was far too easy to make Tsuzuki do whatever he wanted when his partner was passed out. Too easy, that is why he did this. There was more of a bite to this than requesting the other man to follow him. There was more excitement, more tension and pressure into making Tsuzuki choose. There will be another time to take the violet eyed man. There will be another time he would be able to touch that perfect body. However, this time, he wanted to play.

He had started all this because the boy was, in truth, broken. How he was broken, only he, Muraki, would know. Theirs was a bond that only he would understand, however twisted and sick it was. He had branded this boy more or less as his. He had imprinted into the young man's very soul his mark. The link between them will never be broken, will never lessen and fade. It will always be there, at the back of his mind just like how it would be at the back of the boy's own. He could feel the young man, could faintly feel his aura whenever he went. Though Hisoka could not always feel him unless he was near, he would forever feel the younger man.

He had made it so, so he would not lose track of him.

"I'll free Hisoka from you."

Such brave words, it made him want to laugh.

Humans, he noted in his many years of interacting with them, become so desperate when they are cornered. When they are pushed and shoved in the right places, they whimper and shudder with fear. When they are faced with something that displeases them, they would sneer and hiss at the object until it would leave them. Humans, he mused, were so predictable in everything they did. All he needed was the right timing, the right place and the right tools to make them do as he pleased. It was so easy, because humans were simple creatures. One look on another person's face and he could already calculate how they would react to something.

Tsuzuki was very much the same. When pushed far enough into a corner, when faced with something he didn't want to see, the other man would cower and duck his head. When shoved in the face of something he wouldn't want to see, his beautiful violet eyes would burn with such intensity, as if willing that object to melt before his eyes.

Muraki's eyes narrowed a bit. In a way, both Tsuzuki and the boy were alike. They both ran from what they truly are. Both cowards, both so easily read by his eyes.

He smirked.

This was a game he would win undoubtedly.

Arms still locked around his partner's slim body, the fabric of his pants slowly soaking up the splattered blood on the floor, though no trace of any cuts were now seen on that forever youthful body, Tsuzuki continued to glare up at him.

How he loved those eyes. Those beautiful jewels burning like a forbidden flame in the darkest coldest of nights.

Like a lighthouse leading a ship away from danger.

Like a moth to a flame.

His smirk grew into a small smile. "I did not hear you, Tsuzuki-san."

Purple flames burned into his brain, into his soul. Those eyes, like that of the boy's, have captured him the moment he looked into them so many years ago.

Eyes of amethyst against golden copper so much like emerald against pale ivory.

"I said," Tsuzuki muttered up at him, his face hard.

"… I choose Hisoka."

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It was impossible.

It had to be. How could Muraki be standing here in front of him, in his own room? He shook his head. Not real. But the children weren't real either, were they? He remembered them, yet they weren't real. The night he lost everything wasn't real either, was it? Yet he remembered it happening. He remembered the pain of that night. He remembered the disgusting feeling of being touched.

It can't be real… He…

Oh, but it was. Somewhere locked deep within his mind, a voice whispered: It's real. He's here. Don't you remember?

He didn't want to remember.

He wanted the man before him to disappear like those children in his memories. Wanted him to vanish in a swirl of smoke like a magic show. Wanted him to melt into the floor and scream in agony as that happened.

Muraki was still standing there with a knowing smile on his face.

"Out of bed so early. Are you feeling better?"

He felt revolted. Sick; like there was a blender within his stomach and it was mixing and mixing his insides together until he couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to get out of this place.

"… More or less."

His voice spoke out but he hadn't moved his lips. Blinking in surprised, Hisoka turned around only to look straight into his own eyes. Once again the unnerving feeling of… seeing himself went down his spine. It still wasn't like looking into a mirror. His younger self was a living breathing entity. His younger self was currently standing right next to him beside the window. His younger self was now allowing Muraki, the man who killed and raped him, walk right up to him.

He wanted to scream.

"Though it is good news that you are able to walk steady now, I still do not recommend you standing near a window."

It was strange seeing Muraki play the role of a doctor when he was the murderer not so long ago. Unnerving how one minute he can be a ruthless killer and the next act as if nothing had happened.

The younger Hisoka backed away from the window, keeping his eyes averted from Muraki's cool gaze.

"… I just wanted to look outside."

Run. He wanted to shake himself. He wanted his younger self to run.

Run from the madman.

Run from his bed.

Just run.

He didn't.

He stood there as Muraki ever so smoothly walked closer. "Outside? What is there to see outside? There's nothing but the trees and sky."

His younger self glanced back out the window, not answering for awhile.

Hisoka shook his head, still refusing to acknowledge this. Refusing accept that his killer had been in his home, had been near him in those three painful years that he barely remembered.

"… There are birds," his soft voice spoke out. "There are flowers. There is laughter. And…"

The sound of children playing beyond the walls of the household reached their ears. The joyful sound rung loud and clear like a chorus of bells. It stung as he continued to listen. How many times had he heard those same children play? How many times had he stood in front of the gates, wanting to push those heavy doors open and run with those same children? Far too many times for him to keep track of. He was never allowed to play with them. Never allowed beyond those large and towering doors. He wasn't allowed to because he was different from them.

"Why was a child like you ever born?"

He closed his eyes and turned away from the laughter. Unbeknownst to him, the younger Hisoka had done the same thing.

"Is that what you want?"

His eyes opened as Muraki's words spoke up above the laughter. He turned back, eyes widening as Muraki reached out and touched the younger Hisoka's chin. He shivered; he could almost feel that hand on his own face. Muraki continued to caress, trailing his hand up to brush a lock of hair away from the Hisoka before him. He looked at himself and found that his eyes were glazed over, dull and lifeless as the man continued to touch him.

"Is that what you long for?"

"… I…"

"Is that what you keep hanging on for? Love, affection and joy?"

"… I…"

"Shut up." He all but growled with his hands fisted at his side. "Shut up."

"Is your need to be like them what keeping you alive?" Muraki was cupping his face now, brining him closer slowly.

"… I want…"

"I said SHUT UP!" He screamed, covering his ears.

"… It no longer matters what you want, boy. It matters no more. Do you wish to know why?"

"N-no… I… I want…" A stray tear fell from his eyes.

"What you want no longer matters because you no longer exist in this world."

The world suddenly became nothing but a black void as the scene before him melted away. The world became nothing but complete darkness and he was stranded.

Stranded, lost and alone. Cold and abandoned.

The world became nothing because he no longer existed in it.

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There were few things that can catch Muraki off guard. He was a man who calculated things out before hand. It gave him the upper hand when he interacted with others. To know how the person before you was going to react to what you said was a good thing. It made them predictable. It made them an easy prey. However, there are times, though very few, where the puppet of his show did things he did not think it would do.

Like this time for example. It was times like these that made him take note not to underestimate his prey. He had thought Tsuzuki would fall for his trap. He had thought that Tsuzuki would take the bait, that he would pick the doll and save his partner's soul.

He thought wrong.

Though, he was like any predator. He learned from his mistakes. He will no longer underestimate Tsuzuki again.

But there were other more important things on his mind at the moment. For when Tsuzuki had said he picked Hisoka, the ward on Veronica's back had burst into flames, surprising him into dropping his doll onto the hard floor. The impact of the smooth face of the doll and the floor caused a sickening cracking sound that bounced off the walls.

Neither of them spoke a word in a span of two minutes. Neither moved, both staring into each other's eyes as if they were waiting for any sudden movement from the other.

The doll continued to lie quietly on the floor, her silky blonde hair was being burned away slowly by the small fire on her back.

Somewhere outside the puppet store, life moved on. Somewhere outside the puppet store, people walked about without a care in the world. Somewhere outside the puppet store a person was dying as a new child was being born. Life moved on unknowing of the three people within the store that seemed as if time had put a stop to everything within its walls.

Muraki broke their gaze, looking down at Veronica before picking her up. Using his hand to beat out the small flames, he dusted her off casually.

Tsuzuki watched, keeping his eyes on the man before him. He was waiting, waiting for Muraki to attack. Waiting for him to summon his monsters. He was waiting for anything, anything at all. He had spoken his choice. He had picked Hisoka and not the doll. He had said he would free Hisoka and he would. Picking Hisoka over the doll was the first move.

"What if I told you that the body you are holding in your arms is not your dear partner? What if I told you that that is nothing but a lifeless body?"

It did not matter any longer. He had picked Hisoka. He had picked Hisoka because with his soul or not, Hisoka was still Hisoka. Hisoka was the young man with the blonde hair and the beautiful green eyes. Hisoka was the child with the intense glare and the harsh words. Hisoka was anger, distrust, moodiness, cold, hot and warm. Hisoka was alive. The doll was not. And so, in his eyes, Hisoka could never be a doll.

"I am displeased, Tsuzuki-san." Muraki's voice brought him out of his thoughts as he looked back up at the pale man. Cold eyes were narrowed just slightly as Muraki looked down at him. "I am very displeased…"

He suppressed a shiver as he held Hisoka's still prone body closer. Muraki went on as he held Veronica in the crook of his arms, almost cradling her.

"… You've broken my favorite doll… Tsuzuki-san."

He didn't speak, didn't move or look away. His gaze held strong and firm. To look away from those eyes now would show weakness, it would show that he was unsure of his choice. He would not look away, not when Hisoka's wellbeing was at stake. For Hisoka he would be strong and face Muraki. For Hisoka he would look at insanity straight in the eye and rip that smirk from that pale face.

For Hisoka he would risk his own safety because Hisoka needed him.

Hisoka needs him.

He'd run away once long ago when someone he cared about needed him. He'd run from them and because of that, he'd lost them forever. He did not want to lose Hisoka. He didn't want to lose this person who could be so harsh one minute and then shyly caring the next. He didn't want this child who was thrown into his care to be harmed any longer.

How many times has he been betrayed and hurt…? [1]

He won't do that to Hisoka. He would do things right this time. This time, he would stay and help. Hisoka was his second chance at doing things correctly. With Hisoka, he could ease the heavy burden on his shoulders slightly. He hadn't been able to do anything for his partner when he was alive and in pain, so in his death he would stand beside this hot tempered young man and face his demons with him.

"Tasukete! Tsuzuki!!"

Resting the palm of his hand against Hisoka's cold cheek, Tsuzuki pressed his cheek against the top of Hisoka's head. It's okay, Hisoka. I'm here now. I'm not running anymore.

For a moment, he forgot about Muraki. For a moment, he didn't see the backroom of the puppet store. For a single beautiful and peaceful moment, there was only him and Hisoka. There were only them and the feeling of Hisoka back in his arms. The wonderful thankful feeling of feeling his partner next to him, close to him and safe again. There were only them, him with his arms tightly around Hisoka and Hisoka resting silently in his arms. And for a moment, he remembered his selfish thoughts back in the Queen Camellia. [2]

The past with Muraki has nothing to do with me.

Could I have helped you even if I was there? Could I have saved you from that night that still haunts you even when you try so hard to deny it? I don't know… but…

But when you're caught in a nightmare…

I want to be the one you see when you wake up.

When you're having hard times…

I want to be the one you run to for help.

If it's just being by your side…

Even if you won't let me do anything to help you…

It wouldn't be conceited.

Even if it's selfish of me to want to be near you when I can't do anything…

Even if you're only depressed…

… I still want to try. I'll be the idiot for you so you would forget. I'll be the childish fool for you. As long as you let me be there. As long as I can have this when it's all over.

The sound of footsteps heading away was what brought him back out of his thoughts. Looking over at Muraki, he found the pale man leaning against the wall near the window once again, looking out of it with Veronica still in his arms. The sun was still shining brightly in the sky and the rays played across the smooth pale complexion as Tsuzuki continued to watch. As he continued to observe Muraki, he noticed that the other man almost seemed as if he was… contemplating something. The usual smirk or all knowing smile was no longer upon his face. And as Muraki finally turned his eyes back into the room, Tsuzuki noted that he looked sober almost… thoughtful.

Muraki glanced down at the doll before placing it on the ground, leaning its back against the wall as he silently dusted his hands off. The moment of silence spanned on in the room. The sun continued to shine brightly despite the sudden uneasiness Tsuzuki was feeling.

Glancing briefly at Veronica, Tsuzuki noted that the doll's eyes were completely dull. Void of any light reflecting off its smooth surface. He couldn't even see the reflection of the room in Veronica's eyes and in finding that, he felt a slight shiver run down his back.

"Do you wish to know what your dear partner wanted, Tsuzuki-san?"

Jerking slightly at the sudden sound of Muraki's voice, he returned his gaze back towards those that belonged to the other man. The usual smirk was back in place, yet… there was something deep in Muraki's eyes that he couldn't figure out. Something about how the usually unnerving brightness of those pale orbs suddenly becoming dim confused him.

"Will you not answer me now?" Muraki pondered, his deep voice bouncing off the walls.

"… How would you know what Hisoka wants?"

Closing his eyes slightly, Muraki chuckled amusingly at the question. "I thought I made it clear that the boy and I were… connected."

"Tell me boy. What do you want?"

Not giving Tsuzuki the chance to speak up again, Muraki went on casually as if they were discussing about the weather.

"Your partner is a greedy boy, Tsuzuki-san. There are quite a lot of things that he wants, yearns for." As he spoke, Muraki strolled around the room, letting his hands touch the old walls, almost caressing them as if he'd been in the room before and had returned from a long journey. He stopped, right behind where Tsuzuki and Hisoka were, his palm resting flat against the hard wall where Hisoka had hung from only hours before. Pressing his hand harder against the wall, as if he was trying to shove it away and reveal another path for him, Muraki continued.

… I…

"There are so many things that he wants and so many of them are simple. Did you know that he is actually really easy to please? You don't know, do you?" A soft knowing chuckle emitted from deep within Muraki's chest as he went on.

"… What he wants." Muraki muttered, letting his hand slide away from the wall slowly as he turned around to face Tsuzuki's back. "… is what every child has."

Tsuzuki gazed down into Hisoka's face, his eyes trailing down relaxed eyebrows, the long slender nose and towards the usually frowning lips.

… You wanted to be loved. Didn't you, Hisoka?

Behind him, Muraki went on. "He wants what every human being has."

… I want…

… A place to accept you and care for you. People who will be there for you. People who would help you and defend you.

"… He wants… what every man wants."

A home. A family.

"Would you like to know what else your partner wants, Tsuzuki-san?"

He didn't say a word; instead he continued to look down at Hisoka's face as if he was trying to memorize the peacefulness of it. As if he was trying to imprint into his brain what Hisoka looked like when he wasn't yelling, scolding or glaring at him. Utterly at ease, without lines to mar the forever youthful face, completely smooth and beautiful. That word did not suit Hisoka. Beautiful didn't describe him. Beautiful wasn't enough. Enchanting, breathtaking, unearthly. Those words could not begin to paint a picture of what Hisoka was. And that was just perfect. It was better. Better to not be able to come up with any words to describe his partner than to make a list of those that do. Better to ponder and think over what word would complete Hisoka than to laugh and smile and say, "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways."

There were no words that could summarize Hisoka. And that was more than enough.

It was once again Muraki's voice that brought him out of his thoughts.

"Shall I tell you want the boy wants, Tsuzuki-san?"

Silence answered him. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Muraki's lips quirked up a bit as he rubbed his thumb and ring finger together before lifting his hand up to brush a lock of hair from his eyes. The spot underneath Tsuzuki glowed faintly, not bright enough for the occupied shinigami to see. Placing his hands back into the pockets of his white slacks, Muraki rounded Tsuzuki until they were once again facing each other.

Gazing down at the dark haired man, he muttered. "There are many things that your partner wants. Yet… there was one that stood out the most. One… that he had longed to have more than the others."

Suddenly curious, Tsuzuki raised his head and looked up at Muraki, wondering and wanting to know what Hisoka had wanted more than anything.

That was his second mistake.

His third mistake was forgetting the blade that was resting conveniently beside Hisoka's limp hand.

Muraki smiled.

"… He wanted you to leave him alone. He wanted you to stop pretending. Most of all…"

His fourth mistake was not moving out of the way fast enough as he felt the cold blade of the knife slicing through his throat when Hisoka suddenly came back to life.

His first mistake was entering the puppet store.

"… he wanted you to…"

… I want him to go away.

^_^;; ... So... anyone heard about the 'Freedom Fries'?