This is the first epilogue. It's very short, but so what? It's not about Tatsumi and Watari, so it can be pretty damned short. See you in like five seconds.
Oriya exhaled a plume of smoke, sitting on the back porch of the brothel, watching the sun warm the sand in the rock garden to a rosy gold as it climbed its way towards the peak of the sky. He didn't turn his head upon hearing the swish of fabric beside him, or the sound of a lighter being clicked. Wisps of smoke, not from his lips, floated in the dewy morning air.
"I didn't think someone with cracked ribs should be smoking," he remarked.
Muraki made a noncommittal noise, cigarette poised between two bandaged fingers. Oriya smiled almost imperceptibly, thinking about the pip of plaster on the doctor's nose, marring his perfect face. It served him right, though, doing something so foolhardy.
"Did I, or did I not, tell you it was a bad idea, Kazutaka?"
"On the contrary, Oriya, I found it most educational," Muraki replied genteelly.
The longhaired swordsman chuckled. "That blonde with the glasses ripped you a new one and it caught you off guard, you mean to say."
Muraki said nothing in response, brooding. The physical pain was nothing; he would be fine in a few more days. But that obnoxious little blonde had left far deeper scars, insinuating that he, Kazutaka Muraki, was the same as the victims he'd carved up with such indifference. That he was "another Saki." The idea of having any similarity to that disgusting creature he had the misfortune of calling a half-brother was vile. It made his skin crawl. He was no Saki.
"You're not going to give up on them, are you? You'll try something again one of these days, and the same thing will happen. This last time just proves that you can't win, Kazutaka. Those Shinigami, they aren't going to let you. You can't threaten them; they don't take threats lightly, as you've obviously found out."
Muraki took a slow, methodical drag of his cigarette, the ash glowing. "Those Shinigami, Oriya, are my white whale. As long as I exist, I shall never cease to cause them suffering, in retribution for the suffering they constantly cause me."
"Yeah, but don't you think they already suffer enough as it is? They have to watch people die every day. They've got the same emotional baggage as you, more so, I'd say."
"We're not the same," Muraki snapped.
The chestnut-haired man nodded. "No, you're not. They, despite all of their hang-ups, are still human. They love one another, do they not? You, I'm not so sure about."
"No, Oriya, I'm not human," the pale doctor agreed. "I'm that nightmare that lurks in the shadows, waiting until you're lulled into a false sense of security to grab you. To drag you down to where no one can save you and bleed all of your hopes from you. I will twist your heart and blacken it with so much poison, rape you raw and break you again and again. Until there is nothing left."
Oriya shuddered, knowing that Muraki was smiling as he spoke. He was mad, the doctor, but then again, he himself was equally as mad for standing by him all these years. But perhaps it was because that man had, true to his word, dragged him down and poisoned him until he was purely a pretty shell filled with blind conviction and unrequited love.
"Until there is nothing left…"
Notes: See, I told you I was cleaning up loose ends. There's your Muraki bit. I couldn't just leave him lying facedown on some hill somewhere. So I put him back at Oriya's place. Originally I intended to end the fic here, with Muraki back with Oriya so things came full-circle, but I felt that since this is a Tatsumi and Watari story, it should end with them. So it does. See you next, and last, chapter.