Why you should never kick Muraki in the balls
Chapter Four: So what if I want to die?
A story by Kelly
Kelly says: Ah, sorry for the long wait. Truth to tell, I had this chapter all planned out in my mind but I had to update my other stories that I was seriously neglecting. I still haven't updated my Chosen One yet. . .*winces* To anyone reading it, don't worry, I'm not abandoning it. I just need to find the right. . .motivation to do it. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out by next week. . .*cough* right *cough*.
Summary: It's nearly a year after the Kyoto Arc and Muraki is slowly losing himself to despair. This is a story about love, angst, humour, rage and why you should never kick Muraki in the balls. All will be explained. Soon.
Pairings: Not saying.
Warning: Will contain slash, graphic murders, traumatic recollections and the much-needed angst. Slight OOC. Read at your own risk.
Check out Mystic Shadow's "The Warlock", a Harry Potter fanfic. It's H/D slash and really cool. It's AU but so much fun. Like a Judith McNaught but with magic, angst and (yum) ice-cold blondes.
Review replies:
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Quotable Quotes From the Questionable Sanity of Kelly:
"I don't hate Tsuzuki Asato. Really. I mean, sure, he's a lazy good-for-nothing worthless 6 year-old with more spiritual power than brains. . .and his stomach is more important to him than his appearance, which is as captivating as day-old trash. . .but no, I don't hate him. Seriously."
~Terazuma Hajime~
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I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
~Evanescence "My Immortal"~
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The instant they arrived in Meifu, Hisoka stalked over to his desk and grabbed the innocuous brown file. It was roughly half an inch thick and it contained all the information of the six murders they were. . .or rather, had been investigating. It was now considered closed as they had found the murderer, and as Muraki had put it, that makes it no longer their jurisdiction. It was not within their power to bring criminals to justice. Their job was to bring restless souls back. Not to punish the guilty.
He ignored the others who had trailed in the office with less enthusiasm than he had shown. Blue and amber eyes were more focused on his partner anyway to notice his sudden agitation. Tsuzuki was still in a state of shock, that he had survived a meeting with Muraki with injuries no worse than being given the cold shoulder. The man wandered over to the coffee machine and as Tatsumi and Watari tactfully tried to enquire as to how he was feeling, he waved off their concern with an absent smile.
"C'mon, Tsuzuki," Watari cajoled. "You're our friend. You can tell us anything."
Tsuzuki forced a smile "I'm fine, really."
"Tsuzuki-san," Tatsumi quietly interjected, "All of us can tell that you are not fine. I'm sorry we had to make you see that. . .bastard," his eyes flashed dangerously, "again, but please, let us help you."
Hisoka tuned out the rest of what they were saying. He himself had gone through dozens of variations of the same conversation with his partner. All of with met with same success, that is, none. Tsuzuki was determined to wallow in his misery, no matter how many times he had assured him that he was there to listen, to give comfort. Frankly, sometimes Hisoka despaired of his partner trusting him completely. Ever.
The file lay waiting in his hands as he hesitated. In the meeting earlier, he hadn't even looked through it. He hadn't wanted to be assaulted by the nightmare images of Muraki's handiwork. But now he was assailed with the insatiable desire of curiosity.
Something was wrong with Muraki.
The man they met was not Muraki. It was impossible. The Muraki they knew and hated was a cold, arrogant bastard. Someone who was confident in their own power and charisma. He was a cobra, a deadly yet hypnotizing beauty that drew you in and made you wish with all your heart you could run away. But even as you wish that, you wanted to be drawn in anyway.
But this Muraki. . . .this. . . .Hisoka was confused. That arrogance was missing. So was the habitual sneer that the silver-haired man reserved for him. And where was that lecherous innuendo, the veiled sarcasms and hints?
Decisively, he flipped the folder open. First page was standard, giving background information, duration of current investigation, etc. He turned over to the victims' page.
First victim. A 17 year old girl. Waist-length blond hair, sea-green eyes.
Second victim. A 15 year old boy. Dirty straw yellow hair. Jade eyes.
Third victim. A 19 year old girl. Blond hair. Green eyes.
Fourth victim. Blond hair. Green eyes.
Fifth. Blond hair. Green eyes.
Sixth. Blond hair. Green eyes.
Well, I guess now I know why they were rather worried, Hisoka thought, rather dazed and detached.
All six victims bore a striking resemblance to him in coloring. If it was bait, it would have worked remarkably well. Actually, it had worked, somewhat. Tsuzuki had gone through the file earlier and he had sensed the surge of uneasiness from the man. It was one reason why he refused to look through the file. If it had caused that much distress to Tsuzuki, he figured that to look through it would only add fuel to his nightmares of the man. Tsuzuki, though uneasy, had insisted on going with them to see Muraki after going through the file. Hisoka knew his partner. He would not have wanted more deaths on his conscience, a fact that Muraki understood so well.
So yes, it was the perfect bait. They had even brought Tsuzuki with them. So why didn't Muraki claim his prize? Why go through all the bother of baiting and getting their attention only to disregard it the moment they gave it?
Maybe. . . a little voice from the back of his mind piped up, maybe it wasn't Tsuzuki he was baiting. . .didn't he practically ignored Tsuzuki then?
Hisoka did not like the implications of what that meant.
"Please," Tsuzuki whispered. "I rather not talk about it. Thank you for caring but I. . .I'm not ready to talk about it yet."
Something inside Hisoka snapped then. Anger flooded through him, hot and burning. And it was all directed at his partner.
He spun around and with the most withering glare he could give, he flung back Tsuzuki's words to his face.
"You're not ready to talk about it? You're fine? Did it ever occur to you that the more you deny it, the more we're worried about you?! Well?!"
Tsuzuki gaped at him. So were Tatsumi and Watari. He ignored them in favour of the anger that was still coursing through him.
"You keep everything inside, suffering all this while and whenever someone tries to help you, you push them away!" he shouted. "Did it ever occur to you also that when you do that, they get hurt?! You're not the only one suffering here! Everyone is! What the hell do you think we became Shinigami for!"
"But-I-" Tsuzuki spluttered.
"Look at Tatsumi! And Watari! And everyone else! All of them suffered in their life! Why else are they here! But do you see them moping? Do you see them playing the martyr? No!"
This time though, he was getting a response for his partner. It wasn't the heart-to-heart he had sometimes envisioned but rather, anger too colored his face.
"You're the one to talk!" Tsuzuki spat scathingly. The expression didn't fit well on his features. It was weird seeing something other than feigned joy or sadness on that face. "What about you? I don't see you opening up to me and telling me your problems! You just keep it bottled up inside and damn me for trying to help!"
That did it. The world went alarmingly white as Hisoka tried to control the anger from spilling over to rage. He wasn't very successful at it but he did manage to keep the damages to a minimum. Only one window pane cracked in the blast of power that he failed to control.
He pushed through the still-stunned Tatsumi and Watari, pushing his face close to Tsuzuki and locking his eyes to his.
He hissed, "And did it ever occur to you, that the reason I didn't trust you with my problems, was because you didn't trust me with yours?! Tell me, how exactly am I supposed to tell you everything when YOU tell me nothing and push me away every time?"
Tsuzuki faltered first, dropping his eyes away. "I didn't try to push you away. . ." he mumbled. "I just. . . I wasn't ready."
Hisoka laughed bitterly. "Oh really? The what do you call this?" With one sharp movement, Hisoka tore his shirt open, the first few buttons snapping off, revealing the pale skin beneath and the scarlet curse that flared anew in his anger.
And as he expected, Tsuzuki's eyes widened and he stumbled back, looking anywhere but at him.
"I thought so." As quickly as the anger had come, it left him then, leaving him weak and shivery in the aftermath.
"I thought so," Hisoka repeated dully.
"Bon?" A hesitant hand on his shoulder.
He brushed it off, his mind a thankful blank. Tsuzuki still refused to look at him. Without another word, Hisoka walked out of the office and as the doors closed behind him, he could hear Tatsumi and Watari speaking, each hesitant and unsure.
"Tsuzuki? Are you alright?"
"You okay?"
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It was nearing 4 am and the moon had risen high in the sky. So high in fact, that he could no longer see it from his vantage point here on the balcony. But it was okay. The light that fell through was more than enough and he basked in the ethereal glow.
Nighttime was Muraki's favourite. He loved the way moonlight glossed over the harsh edges that sunlight threw into stark relief. At night, every thing looked peaceful, all was beautiful. Even those that were ugly. And it was thanks to the light of an indifferent deity. Some say that the sun is a god, giving life to all beneath it, providing sustenance. He wondered what that meant of the moon. Moonlight does not give you life. It wasn't even real light. It did not provide sustenance. All it provided was beauty. It didn't care about humans nor its trouble. It was just there.
Muraki liked it for that.
The only warning he got was a faint surge of power and the rustle of feet on tatami. The next thing he knew, he was flying backwards through the air, slamming against the floor so hard that he was momentarily stunned, breath leaving him in a whoosh.
Before he could recover, someone straddled him, someone small and light and he would have thrown off his attacker easily if not for the unmistakable click of a loaded revolver and the cold metal pressing against his neck.
"This is all your fault."
He blinked back the stars in his vision to see Hisoka Kurosaki and if he wasn't mistaken, the boy was piss mad.
"Kurosaki-san," he acknowledged with the lift of an eyebrow. The boy looked rather rumpled, hair in disarray and shirt half-opened. Though the room was dark, he could clearly make out the darker swirls of the curse against gleaming pale skin.
"This is all your fault," Hisoka repeated and the revolver was pressed harder against his throat.
"Pray tell," he drawled. "What exactly is my fault? I would like to know the reason as to why I was assaulted."
Hisoka hissed, a surprisingly reptilian sound and leaned close till the edges of his fringe brushed against his cheek.
"Those murders were bait. You wanted to bait Tsuzuki and us. You succeeded. So why didn't you follow through with whatever you were planning with?"
"Who ever said that it was bait?" Muraki replied coolly. "Maybe I was just having fun."
"You never do anything without a reason," he hissed again. "You wanted something from us. From Tsuzuki, or whatever other sick reason you cooked up. You just want to mess with our minds. But guess what?" he smiled sardonically.
"What?"
"You'll fail. Because I am going to kill you."
The revolver was moved from his throat to his forehead, the metal suddenly colder than before as Hisoka reared back, the better to position himself. They must have stared at each other for a few minutes at least, the revolver still jammed against him but as the minutes ticked by, he could feel the fine trembling that took over the boy.
"Why aren't you fighting?" the boy whispered.
A cricket chirped in the intervening lull. Muraki didn't even move a muscle all the while, staying passively beneath Hisoka, his hands slack by his side and his power quiescent in him.
"Why don't you kill me?" he countered back. "That's what you want isn't it? After all, I raped, cursed and kill you. God knows what I did to your precious partner. . .surely it must be easy to pull the trigger? You know you want to," he coaxed.
He had gone too far. A suspicious gleam entered the boy's green eyes and the revolver fell away.
"You want to die," he was accused.
"And it looks like I'm not going to," he muttered irritably as Hisoka slowly got off him, the gun hanging loose but ready at his side. Hisoka stood over him, a puzzled look on the boy's face as he continued to lie dispiritedly on the floor. Really, what was the point? Not only did he fail in his quest for revenge, one of his own victims couldn't kill him. How pathetic could he get?
"Well?" he snapped suddenly. "Don't tell me you're going all queasy on me? So what if I want to die? What business is it of yours? You want to kill me so go ahead! Don't tell me you haven't thought about it, you-"
He broke off as the gun fired and a smoking hole appeared in the floor, millimeters near his right ear.
The metal flashed and wavered in the little moonlight that filtered through. Its owner's hand was trembling as the boy whispered, "Shut up."
It didn't take long for the gunshot to wake the whole household of the KoKakuRou up. He could hear shouts and the pounding of feet and a moment later, the shoji to his room banged open, Oriya framed in the doorway, chest heaving.
"What the-get away from him!"
Oriya darted suddenly into the room, his movements a blur as he pushed Hisoka away, the gun clattering to the floor. Oriya stood protectively over him and Muraki had to smirk at his friend's protectiveness. Hisoka had shown no reaction from being shoved back, only staring at him with those wide green eyes as his hands clutched at his torn shirt, the fingers curling and uncurling in agitation.
"This is all your fault," Hisoka repeated dully.
Muraki got to his feet. Any hopes of dying tonight was gone, what with Oriya here. Brushing back his hair, he pushed past Oriya, a startled exclamation on his friend's lips as he stood before the boy.
"And what exactly is my fault? You never did tell me," he said softly.
"It's all your fault," Hisoka insisted. "He won't talk to me. He won't let me get close. He never will. No one else understands me. Only he could. But he doesn't. You broke him. And I can't fix him. No one can. He won't let us."
Muraki frowned, staring pensively at Hisoka. The boy was in some shock, if the glazing of his eyes and the dull monotone to his words were any indication. Not that he cared. But he was somewhat intrigued.
"You had a fight with Tsuzuki, didn't you?" he surmised. "But I have to correct you on one thing."
Hisoka raised his head, meeting his eyes challengingly as some of the glaze lifted.
"I didn't break Tsuzuki," he smiled mirthlessly. "I never did. He was broken long before I met him. I only helped to reveal it."
Those were the last words spoken between them before with a shimmer, Hisoka disappeared from his room.
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to be continued
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Kelly says: *Cough* To all Tsuzuki-Fans, please don't kill me! There is a reason for their fight. Understand this; how would you feel if every time you tried to help some one you love, you're pushed away? Consider the fact that they both went through roughly the same thing, with the same man. Tsuzuki was the first to ever break through Hisoka's wall and when he tried to help him, he was rejected. You could see the hurt in the Kyoto Arc, that morning after Tsuzuki's meeting with Muraki when he hinted that he knew why Tsuzuki killed himself.
Another reason is that I feel there's just too much Tsu-angst out there. To do one would basically mean I'm parroting the other authors out there. Plus, I think they do Tsu-angst better than me anyway.
Well, tell me what you think anyway *grin*. It was rather bad of Muraki, taking the easy way out like that. Why did he want Hisoka to kill him instead of him just committing suicide? Because. . . . next chapter!!! XD
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