[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:
Thanks to my faithful reviewers and everybody who's reading. I'm glad you're still enjoying this. =)
Italics are thoughts and flashbacks.
A Wing Short of Flying
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The secret of happiness is to face the fact that the world is horrible, horrible, horrible.
- Bertrand Russell
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Chapter Three: The Wing
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"You've been more conversational lately, Tsuzuki-san. I'm glad."
He turned to Muraki, who was watching over him while his assistant was preparing dinner.
'More conversational', as far as the doctor was concerned, referred to having responded to him outside of the experiment, as compared to his initial silence. Tsuzuki didn't like him, but had no real reason to hate him either.
"Is my body really indestructible?" he asked. Might as well be actually conversational.
"I am ready to conclude that, yes," Muraki answered. "Of course, as with all matters in the universe, there must be a limit to your body's endurance. But it might just be that this limit is practically unreachable."
Tsuzuki contemplated this answer.
Muraki studied him intently. "Tsuzuki-san, you're not planning another suicide, are you?"
"I want you to live."
"Hm." Tsuzuki turned away, refusing to answer.
"There are rumors in the hospital that something horrible has happened to you in the past. Is that true?"
"Happened to me?" Tsuzuki shook his head slowly. His mind replayed the scene as his psychic power had lashed out of control: the blinding light, the screeching explosion, the pool of blood. All those had happened because of him.
"What do you mean, Tsuzuki-san?"
"…I don't want to talk about it."
Muraki smiled gently. "It's all right. Those are the past."
Just like what the boy…Hisoka said, Tsuzuki thought.
In truth, his nightmares had become less disturbing lately. In the past, his recollections had always been those of the reproaching glares, hateful to the last, as he blasted the owners to death. There were only hatred and guilt and hardly a detail of anything else.
Now, he remembered that incident in a more realistic way. Not that it made the memories any more comfortable… but it was an improvement he could feel. He had begun to accept his past as a fact.
"Tsuzuki-san, your special trait is not something you should feel guilty about," Muraki said. "I don't know enough of your past to say anything, but suicide is a meaningless action no matter the reason. You can't do anything once you're dead."
Tsuzuki smiled ironically.
"That is exactly why I'd better be dead," he said. "But death just doesn't come easy to me, does it."
Muraki considered this for a while. The smart doctor could try all he might to deduce what had actually happened in Tsuzuki's past, but he wouldn't have a clue about his patient's dark power. I'll be damned if he ever suspects it, Tsuzuki thought warily. There's no way I'd ever want to touch that energy again, let alone for his damned experiments.
"It's really not your fault that you're different from others," Muraki said after some time. "Well, if people out there are too stubborn to understand that, Tsuzuki-san… here you are safe. I understand."
Tsuzuki had known that all along. It was not his fault that he was born with this power. But it was not the others' fault, either, that they were frightened of him. The terrible loneliness, the terrible awareness that his existence would only cause harm to other people— those had caused him to believe that his death was the best solution. And yet those feelings were gradually becoming more and more distant now, because a boy with sincere jade eyes had told him:
"I want you to live."
"Was that what you told Hisoka?" he asked Muraki, his tone neutral.
Muraki frowned at the mention of the name, but didn't comment on it. "He stays with me because he knows it, even though I never actually say it to him."
Oh, but you did say that in other painful ways, Tsuzuki thought, eyeing Muraki with distaste.
Meanwhile, Muraki rested his elbows on the bed, surveying Tsuzuki with interest. "You really sympathize with the boy, don't you, Tsuzuki-san."
Was it jealousy in his voice? Tsuzuki wondered. He said, "He is quite attached to you, Doctor."
"Oh… I was not talking about him."
Tsuzuki looked at him questioningly. Quite clearly they were talking about…
But Muraki just smiled. "We should spend more time together," he said lightly.
That only puzzled Tsuzuki more. But at that time Hisoka entered the room with their dinner, and they proceeded to eat in silence.
.
.
He couldn't find Hisoka when he woke.
"Good morning, Tsuzuki-san."
It was the doctor again.
"Hisoka…?" Tsuzuki asked.
"I sent him out on an errand," Muraki said. "Did you sleep well?"
Tsuzuki shrugged. "I wouldn't know when the sedative was at work."
Muraki smiled. "Depending on… circumstances, you might not need to take them anymore."
"And what are the necessary circumstances?"
Muraki's smile grew evil in Tsuzuki's eyes. "When I've got what I want."
Tsuzuki suppressed a shudder, and turned to the window. "Don't you have work today?"
The doctor looked amused. "If I didn't know better, Tsuzuki-san, I would've thought you didn't want me here."
Tsuzuki ignored his reply. "The experiment, then?"
"Not for today," Muraki waved it aside. Tsuzuki found it strange that he didn't seem to be very concerned with his research anymore. Well, perhaps he'd collected all the data he needed.
Tsuzuki looked around the room for lack of better things to do. His eyes picked up Hisoka's book on the table, and he longed for the boy's presence. The room felt empty without him.
"Tsuzuki-san, how would you like a physical therapy?"
He turned back to Muraki. "Physical therapy?"
"Re-training your muscles so you can walk, move around, and do things as before."
"Why?" Tsuzuki asked suspiciously.
"Why?" Muraki was surprised. "Of course, to recover your body's condition. Don't you want to get well?"
"I mean, why would you? I thought it'd be easier for you to keep me in this state."
Muraki looked at him for a long minute, his eyes actually softened. "I didn't realize I was such a bad person in your opinion."
Tsuzuki regarded him carefully. He could never tell the extent of the doctor's sincerity.
"You certainly do not treat your assistant well," he said at length.
"Ah, is that it?" Muraki smiled again. "It was just a matter of discipline, Tsuzuki-san. And the boy himself doesn't object to my treatment, so you really have no cause for concern. Now back to the subject of therapy…"
"You don't have to beat him."
Muraki paused, and leaned closer. "I rarely do."
At the disbelieving gaze Tsuzuki directed at him, he added, "It is the truth. But in any case, I don't think our relationship is a matter you should worry about."
It was a not-so-subtle way of telling Tsuzuki not to interfere. Tsuzuki huffed, and say no more.
"As for the physical therapy, I have no other motive than to ensure your well-being. I am a doctor, Tsuzuki-san, and I really care about you."
Tsuzuki contemplated this. To be able to walk and move…
Muraki was watching him, waiting for his response. Tsuzuki preferred to observe the window pane. "Yes, I'd like to undergo a therapy."
"You do?" He could hear delight in the doctor's voice. "That's great. We can start right away, if you feel up to it."
…To be able to protect Hisoka from this man. "I'm fine with that."
"Very well." Muraki adjusted his chair closer to the bed. "First, try to sit up…"
Muraki was surprisingly gentle and patient. Tsuzuki decided that he was indeed worthy of his title as a doctor. Nevertheless, there was something about his touches that sprouted apprehension in Tsuzuki, an uneasy feeling he couldn't get rid of.
If I feel this way, I wonder how Hisoka feels near him, with his empathy and all…
"You're thinking of the boy again."
Tsuzuki startled.
Again Muraki smiled, and Tsuzuki couldn't comprehend how such a cheerful face could emit such a disconcerting aura. "You kept glancing at his book, Tsuzuki-san, and you didn't even hear when I asked you to flex your fingers."
Scowling at himself, Tsuzuki flexed his fingers for the doctor.
A knock sounded at the door. "Master?"
Muraki watched the change in Tsuzuki's expression.
"Did you get us lunch?" he directed the question to the door.
"I… will prepare it right away."
"Very good."
There was no more sound coming through the door. A slight disappointment floated across Tsuzuki's gaze, and he stared down at his fingers, continuing to flex them. Open… close… open…
He noticed Muraki's smirk from the corner of his eyes. He was playing us…?
Close, open, close. He held the fist, studying the veins.
When I'm stronger, I'll show him the proper way to treat us.
He was startled when Muraki's palm closed on top of his fist. He looked up to meet the doctor's eyes.
"Enough," Muraki said casually, brushing against his skin in a semblance of caress that made Tsuzuki want to pull away. "Now we'll work on the upper arm."
When finally another knock was heard, Tsuzuki couldn't contain a heave of relief. Hisoka entered, a tray of food on his hands.
"Lunch time," Muraki declared cheerfully. Tsuzuki almost shuddered. The whole good-natured countenance about the doctor seemed just wrong.
His gaze met Hisoka's for the first time that day, and his eyes smiled at him. The boy's face brightened up slightly.
Muraki insisted that he would feed Tsuzuki this time. As they ate, Tsuzuki watched Hisoka carefully. There were the usual dark circles around the boy's eyes, no doubt from the lack of sleep. There were also red marks around his neck, and blue-black bruises on his arms.
Noticing Tsuzuki's stare, Hisoka lowered his arms, trying futilely to hide the marks from Tsuzuki's view. Tsuzuki frowned at him, but upon receiving no response, averted the frown to Muraki.
So much for your truth, Doctor, he thought. He would've said it out loud were he not afraid that Hisoka would be the one to bear the consequences.
Muraki didn't seem to notice his glare, but knowing how perceptive the doctor actually was, Tsuzuki knew he had simply chosen to ignore it.
When I'm stronger I'll…
Hisoka looked up at him, pleading. Tsuzuki scowled.
You should be the one who hate him more!
The boy shook his head almost imperceptibly, and returned his attention to his plate.
Muraki attempted light conversations through the meal, to which Tsuzuki obligingly responded though his mind was fixed somewhere else. When they finally finished the food, Hisoka collected the utensils quietly and went out to wash them.
Once again the room was lonely.
For half an hour Muraki talked about gardening, types of insects, some interesting patients he'd encountered, and a handful of other random subjects. The therapy resumed after that. The exercises, at least, were something Tsuzuki could concentrate on, to distract himself from the irritation he felt at Muraki.
For some reason Hisoka didn't return until the sun fell and it was again time for a meal. Tsuzuki was near to rejoicing when Muraki finally left them alone at nightfall.
"What have you been doing?" he asked Hisoka. His book had been abandoned inside the room.
"I took a walk in the garden," Hisoka replied. All his tension during Muraki's presence was gone.
"He told you to do that?"
"No. I wanted to do that." He sounded a bit offended.
"…Good for you," Tsuzuki murmured.
The boy's gloom, as usual, was short-lived. "How about you, Tsuzuki-san?"
Tsuzuki looked into his eyes. "Just Tsuzuki, please. He called me Tsuzuki-san."
Hisoka went wide-eyed for a moment, torn between shyness and desperation at Tsuzuki's obvious dislike of his master.
"Tsuzuki," Tsuzuki repeated.
"…Tsu…zuki," the boy echoed, rather embarrassed.
Tsuzuki let out a small laugh at the endearing sight, and the boy in turn was stunned at his first display of cheerfulness.
"He's giving me a physical therapy," Tsuzuki answered the earlier question, "so that I can recover."
"That's… great." Hisoka looked truly happy for him.
"Yes, it is."
"So… do you… um…"
"What is it?" Tsuzuki prompted.
"…Never mind."
Tsuzuki eyed him. "Hisoka, not everybody is an empath."
"Well, yeah. Thank goodness for that."
Now Tsuzuki was amused. This boy could be quite cheeky if he set his mind on it. "What I mean is, you have to tell me what's on your mind."
"Some things are better left unsaid."
Not to mention stubborn.
Annoyed, Tsuzuki pouted. A small smile manifested across the boy's features.
They sat in silence for a long time, Tsuzuki on his bed and Hisoka on his chair, content with one another's company.
"Tell me when you want to sleep," Hisoka said as the first night insect sounded outside the window. "I'll adjust your pillow."
"I'll manage," Tsuzuki said, and he did manage to lower himself to lie on his back. He felt a tinge of triumph, and knew from Hisoka's expression that the boy shared that feeling.
"Good night then," Hisoka said, smiling. He picked up his book, prepared to read through the night.
Tsuzuki frowned in disapproval. "Hisoka," he said, "sleep."
"I don't—"
"You can die from sleep deprivation," he said firmly. "Don't argue with me. I stayed in the hospital for two years; I would know."
"But…"
Tsuzuki put his hand on Hisoka's arm, cutting off his words.
"Read my mind," he said. "I'm not going to kill myself, now or later."
Hisoka looked down at where their skins met. "You mean it," he said with wonder.
"Therefore, you don't need to watch over me all the time."
Tsuzuki knew he'd made the right decision when he saw the quiet joy in those green eyes.
"…Thank you, Tsuzuki-san."
"Tsuzuki," Tsuzuki corrected him.
"…Tsuzuki." Again his complexion was adorned by a slight blush that seemed to be the only indication of how much of a child he still was.
"And thank you, Hisoka."
The boy looked lost in contemplation.
"Is this what you wanted to ask me earlier?" Tsuzuki ventured.
"…Yeah."
"Why did you hesitate?"
"I don't want to force you into that decision."
"I want you to live."
"I thank you for what you have done," Tsuzuki said sincerely, "and you should know that this decision is as much for myself as it is for you."
I want to live.
"I'm glad," Hisoka said, though he really didn't need to say it aloud.
Because you need me just as much as I need you.
"Now sleep," Tsuzuki commanded affectionately. "It's your turn to listen to me."
Hisoka nodded. "Good night."
"Good night."
Assured, the young boy fell asleep before long, leaning on the chair. Tsuzuki, on the other hand, stayed awake long after that. He watched the slumbering face beside him, admiring the innocence in the weathered features, savoring the peace that was rarely there.
When his own eyes finally closed to sleep, it was not voluntary.
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Author Notes:
Sleep deprivation, in extreme cases, may actually cause death. I just feel the need to point that out. =)