[18 July 2013] Edited, because I notice people are still reading this old, old story, and I'm horrified at the grammar of my old self. -_- Also taken the opportunity to straighten out warnings in Author Notes.

Author Notes:

I have no access to Tsuzuki's medical records, so I make them all up. =P Also, as much as I'd like to keep to the canon, I can't really figure out what actually happened in Tsuzuki's past, so please bear with my interpretation for that part as well.

My thanks to all who reviewed:

Literary Eagle: Frankly, I don't know if the story would be up to your expectation, since I deal more with emotions and not much for plotline and actions. I hope you'll enjoy it though. =)

Tessa: Sorry for not making that clear. This is Tsuzuki from before he died in the hospital at age 26. I refer to Kyoto Arc for background info, but take liberty with the timeline. Hisoka is around 13 years old here, just as he was before the curse happened; Tsuzuki is 23 (to maintain the age difference), and Muraki is 29, as I believe he was when he met Hisoka according to the manga.

Italics are thoughts.

A Wing Short of Flying

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There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.

- Louis L'Amour, "Lonely on the Mountain"

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Chapter One: The Other

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When he opened his eyes again, the young assistant from before was sitting on a chair beside his bed. He looked up from his book almost instantly and met Tsuzuki's gaze.

The violet eyes were blank, light long gone from them. Still the boy looked away after a while, embarrassed.

Tsuzuki's throat felt dry, and he coughed slightly.

Without a word, the boy reached for the jug on the table, poured some water into a glass, and held it towards him.

He raised one weak hand towards the glass. The boy hesitated, then took a spoon, scooped the water and fed him.

When he had had enough, he turned his head to the side. Taking the hint, the boy returned the glass to the table.

Outside, hints of sunrise had barely appeared on the far horizon. No birds or butterflies could be seen or heard. The room was almost still in its silence.

He still felt the boy's uneasy gaze on him. He wondered if he'd stayed awake all night watching him like that.

What now? Tsuzuki thought. I have run out of ways to die.

The boy shifted on his chair restlessly. He was startled when Tsuzuki turned to him, and looked guilty.

Poor boy. Why is he so nervous?

Said boy was fiddling with his fingers at that moment.

"Do you… need something... Tsuzuki-san? I could help you wash up… or prepare some breakfast."

Tsuzuki shook his head. The boy looked at him uncomfortably for another second before looking down at his lap.

Tsuzuki turned his face to the ceiling, and closed his eyes. All his memories came to him again, fresh from the night's dream.

They never left him alone. The blood, the screams, the reproaching eyes. His past that was never over.

Then again, his past was all he had.

He opened his eyes. The early morning sun was now fully visible through the window, and the boy had crossed the room to switch off the light.

Tsuzuki watched the boy as he sat back down. That thin frame seemed to have endured pain for all his years.

Perhaps it's better that the doctor is here when I try another suicide. At least this boy would be spared from his rage.

The boy looked up at him, startled.

What is it he's staring at? Tsuzuki frowned. Those green eyes, there are something in them…

The boy blushed for a reason Tsuzuki couldn't comprehend, and lowered his gaze.

It was as though…what I feel…are reflected in them.

"Why—" the boy started uncertainly.

At that time the door opened, and Muraki entered.

"Good morning, Tsuzuki-san," he said, a professional smile on his face. "We'll begin the experiment today."

His assistant quickly stood up and positioned himself behind the doctor.

Tsuzuki kept an impassive gaze at Muraki, and didn't say anything.

"Your blood and DNA pattern are normal," Muraki said, glancing at a folder in his hand. "Your body cells, too, have the typical structure of human cells. However, they seem to exhibit unusual activities other than the normal functions."

Just find a way to kill me, and that'll be enough, Tsuzuki thought stoically. He noticed the boy shuddering a little, and frowned. Did he…

"We'll start by monitoring how the cells behave under your current condition," Muraki continued. "Based on the fact that you haven't taken anything since the last time you're awake, nine days ago—"

His assistant winced at this. Tsuzuki noticed it, and unfortunately, so did Muraki.

"What is it, boy?" he asked sternly.

Then he saw the glass of water on the table. "You gave him water?"

"Y-yes, Master. Since you said to take care of him, I thought—"

He squeaked as Muraki caught his chin in a violent grip. His thin hands flailed in a vain attempt to escape.

"You will do only what I tell you to," the doctor said, his cold tone in itself a threat enough. "I left you on your own for just one night… and you seem to have forgotten that."

"I'm sorry," the boy gasped painfully. Color drained from his face. "I will make sure... next time…"

Muraki let go of him in a harsh jerk. He staggered backwards, but quickly recovered his balance.

Tsuzuki watched all this, unusually focused.

All that threat for a few drops of drink?

The boy's tremble spoke of anticipation for more severe punishment later, and he couldn't help but pity him. The doctor knew the boy feared him, and was making full use of that fact.

The fearful green eyes glanced at him, and again he felt the strange impression that he could read his own emotions in those eyes.

"If that is the case, then, we'll observe how the intake affects the cells' activity," the doctor said, his scowl vanished in an instant as he turned to his patient. "Could you open your mouth, Tsuzuki-san? I'm going to take a sample."

.

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"How do you feel?" asked a timid voice.

This was the third time he opened his eyes to find that lean face in front of him.

How did he know I was awake, anyway?

"Just fine."

In fact, he was exhausted, but didn't bother to acknowledge it. The experiment had taken all day, which had consisted of ridiculous exercises, blood and cells being taken from various parts of his body, and a whole lot of questions that he'd answered half-heartedly. He'd fallen asleep as soon as the doctor had called it a day.

Now it was morning again.

But it doesn't mean anything. My time has stopped in my past.

A hesitant hand came up to his face with a wet towel. It gently brushed over his skin, leaving cool freshness on its trail.

Tsuzuki looked past the hand's ministrations to the boy's face, took in his near-worried expression, his nervous green eyes.

Different nurses had taken care of him during his stay in the hospital, and he had grown familiar to their treatment towards him. It had always been compassionate concern, sometimes pity, with a layer of apprehension because they'd known about his unnatural body. Exactly what the young assistant must've been feeling at this moment.

Yet he felt there was something more, all in those reticent eyes. The boy had been looking at him as though he really understood what Tsuzuki was feeling.

Could anyone possibly understand? Unless they bear the same weight of his past, the same amount of guilt and self-loathing…

The curiosity he felt made him wonder at himself. He had ceased to care about anything so long ago. Now the mere presence of this boy stirred up all kinds of emotion he thought were already frozen for good.

Who could he be, this young boy?

The hand stopped, and was hastily pulled back. The owner's face paled as he put the towel and basin back on the table with slightly trembling hands.

Tsuzuki couldn't contain the mystery any longer. He grabbed the boy's hand. "You…"

With a startled cry the boy pulled away. Tsuzuki stared at him in surprise.

Bruises.

"I'm sorry," he apologized hastily.

"It's not—" the boy started, then, "It's nothing."

"… He beat you for giving me water?"

"I-It's not that." And his pale face turned red, as though ashamed.

What else could have happened to him? And Tsuzuki remembered the doctor's words: "I left you on your own for just one night…"

He'd been beating him every night?

"…My master, he… he's not a bad person, really. As long as I don't make him angry."

Why would he defend that doctor when he's treated that badly? Tsuzuki wondered.

He sensed an inner struggle in the way the boy fidgeted, in the stolen glances he directed at him. Then he seemed to give up.

"I'm also… n-not normal, Tsuzuki-san," he spoke that word with difficulty. "You see, I… I can read your emotions."

So that's it, the feeling that he sensed my thoughts... "You're also… one of his research subjects?"

"…Yes." Those eyes were avoiding him. "But after he found out about you, he stopped his research on me and… and spent his time on your case. Besides his regular medical duties, I mean."

Tsuzuki wondered if that unreadable emotion was jealousy or relief. For his case, Muraki had been perfectly polite during the experiment; but with how he'd seen the doctor treated his assistant, the experiments this boy had couldn't be anything but painful. And yet he had defended him.

"Because of my strange ability… people are afraid of me. Only Master would take me in. Only he doesn't push me away."

Tsuzuki could almost understand that feeling. He'd been running away from his existence because nobody would accept him. Including himself.

But those bruises.

The boy read that thought, of course. "That is nothing serious. I'm used to it. Just now I pulled away not because it hurt… but because your emotion became too strong for me when we touched."

Is that all? But Tsuzuki decided to spare the boy further anxiety, and asked no more.

Directing his gaze to the ceiling, he allowed himself to contemplate this new fact.

So… he is another one with unearthly power. That explains why he seems to… sympathize… with me.

He closed his eyes in resignation. But we're not the same. He doesn't deserve all this suffering. I deserve to die.

"Um… Tsuzuki-san?"

Reminded of the other's presence in the room, Tsuzuki turned his face back to the young assistant.

"May I ask why… you tried to kill yourself?"

Tsuzuki was rather taken aback by this direct question. For a moment he just stared at the boy, who cringed under his glare.

"I'm sorry! You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I just…"

Tsuzuki closed his eyes, trying to tell him that it didn't matter.

The boy fell quiet, his head bowed.

After a long silence, Tsuzuki spoke.

"You've seen my eyes."

His head snapped up. He obviously had not expected that Tsuzuki would answer.

"And you know about this body."

The boy nodded slowly.

Tsuzuki turned his gaze once more towards the window. "It will be better if I die."

"Why?" The boy unconsciously reduced his voice to a whisper. The conversation felt almost sacred to him.

"…I've done horrible things."

The eyes of a demon. The power of a monster.

"But I don't sense any of that," the boy whispered.

Tsuzuki looked at him, puzzled.

"The dream you had," the boy said with guilt in his voice. "I sensed them. But that was past. Presently, I don't think… I don't feel that you're... a horrible person."

A strange feeling came to Tsuzuki. He was tempted to believe that, the words of the only person that didn't think of him as a damnable creature.

The only person, by the way. One against the world.

He crushed the hope that was ready to blossom. Not that again. Haven't you learned?

A momentary loathing overcame him. He turned to the boy.

"Well… do you sense anything around the doctor?"

He had said it flatly, but the boy would undoubtedly pick up the sarcasm he'd meant.

Predictably, the boy fell silent. He lowered his head, and didn't attempt to speak any more.

It was quite a miserable sight, and Tsuzuki sighed as he felt his sympathy for the boy return.

"But you needn't worry. I won't try to kill myself when you might be blamed."

The boy didn't reply. He lowered his head even more, letting his bangs hide his face from Tsuzuki.

Then Tsuzuki saw the white knuckles of the fingers grasping the edge of the book, failing miserably to still the shaking of those hands.

"What is it?" he demanded.

The clutch grew more desperate, but the boy still didn't respond.

Now guilt assaulted Tsuzuki in full force, and he regretted his harsh comment earlier.

"Hey," he called softly.

Perhaps his feelings were what went through to the boy after all, because he saw the shaking subside, the tension lessen.

He thought the boy had been crying, but as he spoke, his voice was clear, though he still refused to look at Tsuzuki.

"I just thought that perhaps… perhaps there is hope after all, now that I know I'm not the only one with this anomaly."

There was bitterness in every word, and Tsuzuki knew now that this boy shared every bit of anguish that the world had imposed on himself.

"How insolent of me… to think that we might deserve the right to… live."

And Tsuzuki, having no answer to that, could only turn away.

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