Author's Note: As always, I think all of my readers and reviewers for their support. I would like to extend special thanks to Kara, who has become an online friend and drew me a picture for my birthday, Mainframe, for her in-depth and flattering review, Monou Hakkai, another flatterer, and Aqua Drageen and Gingivere the Shadowreaver, my two best friends in real life; you all inspire me more than you can ever know.
Special Notes: I am attempting some character depth into Tatsumi. Let us all hope it comes out well. ^-^; The chapter is a little bit longer than usual, since I had extra time to work on it. It's also been posted a bit early. I can't believe I updated so fast. O_O I just hope nobody finds it too boring. _ _
'' indicates thoughts or telepathy
//|| indicates POV
//Tsuzuki\\
I hum merrily as I walk down the hallway, a tray carefully balanced in my hands. It took me far longer to locate the tea then I had planned, but thankfully I still had some cake stashed away at my desk. Well... many cakes, to be precise, of various types and flavors. Not knowing which my friend would prefer, I had decided to play it safe and brought all of them. Watari, much like the rest of us, should be more than happy to have a sweet snack waiting for him when he wakes up.
When I reach the door to his room, I am struck with a dilemma. With both hands needed to hold the tray, I cannot turn the handle. I could, of course, try to balance everything on one hand, but the mental image of it all crashing to the floor is simply too real for me to risk it.
I cannot knock and ask Watari to open it; that is simply foolish! The poor, injured man needs his rest; it would be like room service telling you to come down and get your breakfast yourself!
I have just about decided to place the tray on the ground and look positively silly by picking it back up in my friend's presence when another hand appears on the handle, "Here, Tsuzuki; allow me to help you."
I recognize the voice to be Tatsumi's, and I smile at him gratefully, "Thank you; I suppose I should have thought ahead and been prepared for this problem..."
Shrugging, he stares at me with calm blue eyes, "Difficulties appear before us every day; it is merely the way we handle the situations that matters. You can not live without expecting problems to arise."
"Too true," I acknowledge. "How about we open the door and force Watari to deal with the problem of having three people attempt to share tea with only two cups?"
"It will be my pleasure..."
As soon as the door opens, I spread a smile across my face and pull out my most cheerful voice, "Oh Watari! You have visitors!"
However, my happiness soon fades as I stare at the room before me. It is completely empty, save for the bloody clothes removed from the injured scientist. The blankets have been pushed aside, and the window is open, allowing cherry blossoms to float in, creating a thin, pink layer over the floor.
My hands become nerveless; the tray crashes to the floor, sending shards of porcelain and countless desserts into a miserable heap. I have no care in the world for that now, as I rush to the window, staring out into the night.
There is no sign of Watari, no sign of a struggle, but I feel fear and panic rise in my heart, "Damn it! If Muraki has him I will never forgive myself!"
"Tsuzuki! Wait!"
I hear Tatsumi's cry, but I ignore it; he will attempt to stop me, to calm me. There is no time for such things! Even as I hurry out the window and into the orchard, I know that Watari's life could be in danger.
I curse my own stupidity. How could I have been so foolish for the second time on this night? I could have sent someone else for the damned tea; I should have been standing guard! How many misfortunes is it going to take for me to get my act together?!
I see nothing on the ground, and I take to the air, skimming the area swiftly. As my eyes comb over the many trees, a spot of white appears, and with a hiss, I fly towards it. As I grow closer, I begin to make out the outline of another being, and as my feet hit the ground, I shout, "MURAKI!"
Calmly, oh so calmly does he turn to face me, his all too familiar smile set on his face, "Ah, my beloved. I was wondering if you were going to try and stop me at all."
An unconscious Watari lies in his arms, his head resting against Muraki's chest as the doctor holds him carefully. With a tilt of his head, he indicates my friend, "This is what you are seeking, is it not?"
Clutching my hands into fists, I do not try to hide my rage, "You know it is. Can you not leave him in peace? Has he not suffered enough this night?!"
"No, my lovely doll, apparently he has not. He allowed himself to fall into my hands, after all," Muraki responds, cocking his head. "Quite an interesting catch, this scientist of yours. Would you believe that he willingly decided to come with me?"
"Do you think I am a fool? Watari would never do such a thing," I snap, taking a step closer to him. "You will not take him!"
"How your amethyst eyes continue to gleam with anger; it forces me to wonder how beautiful they would be in the peak of passion... However, that is contemplation for another night, a sweet nocturnal interlude that I will cherish. I must show my guest home."
The smile never fades from his lips as he looks at me, and as always when he does so, I cannot shake the feeling that he is somehow looking deeper, staring into my soul, "I know that you do not believe me, Tsuzuki. Yet, I promise you that it is the truth. I merely hope that I see you soon, in more pleasant circumstances so that I may better try to convince you..."
I narrow my eyes, a mere two feet from him now, "What makes you think that I will allow you to leave this place with him? I have already told you; I will not allow you to take him! I do not care what he told you; you do not know a thing about him!"
Now Muraki chuckles, "Is that so? I do believe I know one or two things about him that not even you do, beloved, things that you would never think existed beneath the shell he surrounds himself with..."
"Regardless of what you think, Tsuzuki is correct. You will not leave this place with Watari..."
I recognize the voice as Tatsumi's, and I see him emerge from the shadows of the trees, his arms folded across his chest. His sapphire blue eyes are as laser beams, cold and penetrating, and I can hardly suppress a shiver, although they are not directed at me. It has been a long time since I have seen Tatsumi this enraged...
Muraki's smile only deepens, "Ah yes, Secretary Tatsumi. I believe the last time you graced me with your presence was at Kyoto, no?"
His lips set in a thin line, my former partner nods, "Indeed. Apparently you have forgotten what I told you then, and it has come time to remind you. To lay a hand on one of the employees beneath me... is to entail my wrath."
The black aura of Tatsumi's shadow power swirls about him, and my eyes widen in slight fear. If he attacks Muraki now, then Watari will undoubtedly be hurt. Surely he will not take such a risk?
Evidently our mutual enemy agrees with my thought, tightening his hold on the man in his arms, and the only sign of his slight annoyance is the miniscule narrowing of his silver eyes, "I am sorry, Tatsumi; your parental instincts will have to be laid at rest for now. I simply must get poor Mister Watari out of the elements; I do not wish to have to deal with a sick patient so early in the game. We shall have to settle this... another time."
I give a cry as a white glow surrounds him, knowing all too well what will happen next, "NO! MURAKI!"
Tatsumi gives a curse, and a single ebony tendril rapidly extends towards the psychotic doctor. It is too late; the radiance of the light continues to grow, until it vanishes entirely. Muraki is gone, and with him, Watari, the man I was supposed to be protecting.
"NO! DAMN IT ALL!" I give a scream, falling to my knees. In my fury, I beat my fists against the grassy ground, ignoring the sting it causes. Tears rapidly fill my eyes, and I do not try to stop them, "WHY?! WHY CAN I NEVER SEEM TO STOP THIS FROM HAPPENING?!"
'Tsuzuki? Tsuzuki are you okay?'
Hisoka's voice flashes in my mind, and I grasp the link gratefully, sending all of my pain and anguish through, 'Hisoka... Muraki took him! Muraki has Watari! And it's all my fault...'
'No; it is not. Everything will be fine; you did nothing wrong. I will come as soon as I can. Stay with Tatsumi for now, and please do not be so harsh on yourself... my love...'
Hisoka grows silent, but I can feel two strong hands on my shoulders, and as I raise my eyes, a bleary picture of Tatsumi comes into focus, "Tsuzuki... no more of this. This pain is what Muraki wants; do not give in to him!"
"Tatsumi... this is my fault..."
Those fierce azure eyes bear into me, but they soften, and his voice becomes quiet, "Listen to me Tsuzuki. This is not your fault; I know Hisoka has probably already assured you of that through your link. Now, I am telling you the same. I should not have hesitated to attack. I have lost us Watari, but I swear to you that I will stop at nothing to get him back. Like you, he is under my wing, my protection; I would search for you or Hisoka to the ends of the earth, and I will do the same for him."
Such sentiment coming from Tatsumi, a wealth of feeling I have never seen before. I knew he felt protective of me, but to see him now, so concerned over my fellow shinigami allows me some insight I have never had. He cares for us all, in his own gruff way; while he has been acting in the role of an elder brother to me, he has been playing father to everyone else.
I cannot contain the sobs that begin to form, and he does not question it, pulling me into his arms and lying my head against his chest, "Let the blame fall on me... as I am the guilty one, Tsuzuki. Do not torment yourself anymore..."
Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around him, "As you wish... Tatsumi..."
//Hisoka\\
The more I search for someone to help 003, the more I thank fate for never granting me a pet. I have been to three veterinary clinics already; all three have been closed. Is there not at least one animal doctor who realizes that sometimes animals are hurt at night as well?
It deepens my frustration when the poor creature awakes, a soft hoot his only sign of discomfort. He should not have to suffer this way! All he did was attempt to protect his master; loyalty should be rewarded, not punished. All I can do to sooth him is stroke his head feathers very gently, and even that makes him shiver.
I am on my way to an animal shelter now. True, this is not a veterinarian's practice, but surely they must have somebody on hand that would know how to fix the wing of an injured bird?
I will not know until I try, and I knock on the door, "Hello? Is anyone in there?"
"Just a moment, please!" The door opens, revealing a smiling woman of about forty. She beckons for me to come inside, her hazel eyes taking a glance over 003, "Oh my... what happened to him? The poor dear looks like he's had a bad accident."
Nodding, I pass the bird to her awaiting arms, "A very cruel man snapped his wing, and I had no knowledge of how to deaden the pain. I simply tried to find someone to help him as soon as possible."
"You did the right thing, young man. His wing is definitely broken, but I won't be sure of the extent of the damage until I run an x-ray. By the way, I am Doctor Sanami Hikaru[1]." She extends a hand, and I take it, not wishing to offend her.
The rush of memories and emotions that flow through please me. She has dedicated her entire life to the care of animals; while still in school, she had to wait to get her injured pet to a clinic since it got sick at night. That inspired her to keep her own shelter open after the others had closed. I wish I could thank her for being so wise.
Doctor Sanami releases me and begins to head towards the back, indicating with a jerk of her head for me to follow, "I hope you don't mind, but I have to ask you a few questions. First of all; is this a wild animal?"
The question surprises me slightly, but I suppose it truly shouldn't. After all, 003 is an animal, and I never have known of too many people who kept one as a pet, "No. He belongs to a friend of mine, who was sadly injured and unable to bring him."
She nods, resting the bird carefully on a small table, "He seemed pretty tame." She runs her hands over the wing, and when 003 gives a cry of pain, she merely murmurs softly to him, "Easy there boy... just a preliminary check to see what I can see..."
Within a few moments, she calls for a nurse, who takes the wide-eyed 003 away. I move to follow, but the doctor shakes her head, "It's alright; that's our x-ray technician. She'll bring us the pictures just as soon as they are done. Now, what is the name of the owl?"
"003," I pause at her raised eyebrow. "Is there something wrong?"
She gives a chuckle, writing it on the chart, "Well, no. It's just a strange name; don't you think? It's a number after all; nothing really personal about it."
Blinking, I shrug, "Watari named him, not me. I have never heard either one of them complain."
"Watari is the name of the owner then? Could I have his full name and address?"
I hesitate before speaking, "Is that really necessary?"
Doctor Sanami gives me a smile, "It is only for file purposes; our records are strictly confidential. This information is merely in case something should go wrong while the animal is in our care; we want to be able to inform the owner immediately."
"Well, I brought him in. Would my information do?"
"Why, of course! Is there some reason you do not want your friend to be contacted?"
I nod, admitting as much of the truth as I dare, "You see, when he and his owl were attacked, he was hurt badly. He is in the hospital right now, and I do not want the first thing he hears when he wakes up to be that there is something wrong with his pet."
Sympathy rises in the eyes of the doctor, and she murmurs, "Yes, I quite understand. Your name then please?"
"Hisoka Kurosaki."
Before she can ask me my place of residence, the nurse returns with the x-ray pictures. I cannot help but give a sigh of relief as she places her clipboard aside and takes me over to a screen to view them, "Well, the good news is that this is a nice, clean break. This should have no problem healing at all, and there will be no permanent scars or crippling."
She turns teal eyes towards me, "I'd like to keep him here overnight. That should give us enough time to set his wound properly. You can return for him in tomorrow; my brother, who shares partnership of this clinic, works the daytime shift."
I accept the proposition readily, "That will be fine. I shall come for him tomorrow then. Thank you Doctor Sanami!"
"Mister Hisoka? Wait! I still haven't gotten your add-"
The shutting of the door cuts her off, and I breath a sign of relief as I walk down the street. That saves me the trouble of trying to think of an address on the spot; a more elegant solution could not have been found.
I only take a few steps before a jolt of pain stabs at my heart, and I give a gasp, as I realize where it comes from, 'Tsuzuki? Tsuzuki are you okay?'
'Hisoka... Muraki took him! Muraki has Watari! And it's all my fault...'
A sequence of events appear in my mind, ending with Tatsumi's attack on Muraki, and I hasten to reassure him, 'No; it is not. Everything will be fine; you did nothing wrong. I will come as soon as I can. Stay with Tatsumi for now, and please do not be so harsh on yourself... my love...'
As I feel his relief flood through me, I wonder why I added the last. I know that I love Tsuzuki, but I have never been the type to admit such feelings in words. Perhaps it is because we are so closely linked that I can be so honest with him?
Regardless, I phase into my invisible form, rushing to get back to the Investigations Bureau as quickly as I can. I know that Tsuzuki and Tatsumi will be in the cherry tree grove; I even know the exact spot. It is merely getting there that will take time.
I rematerialize in the orchard, running the remaining length, "Tsuzuki?! Tsu-"
I freeze in mid-step, my eyes widening. There, beneath the cherry trees, sat Tatsumi, his arms around Tsuzuki, who sobbed into his chest. Soft, pink petals float from the over abundant branches, although neither of them move in response to them. It is a tender, loving gesture, and before I can stop it, a red-hot lash of jealousy strikes my heart. I am the one supposed to be tending to Tsuzuki; I am the one who is supposed to give my partner comfort and love!
Was it not Tatsumi himself who had told me this so long ago, in Kyoto? Had he not, when I asked him to stay and comfort Tsuzuki, tell me that from then on I was on my own in doing so? I cannot keep the envy I feel out, and I seethe in silence.
'Hisoka... Hisoka, please don't be angry. It hurts...'
Hearing Tsuzuki's mental plea causes the negative emotion to vanish, as I kneel beside Tatsumi to look at him. I am forced to recall that day, so long ago it seems, that I told him how much his anger hurt me. Look at what I have done now; I have put him through that very same pain.
His amethyst eyes, bright with tears fix on me, and he leaves one embrace to enter into another. As he sobs in my arms, I soothe him, 'Tsuzuki, I am sorry. I will not be angry; I will not be jealous anymore.'
'Just.. hold me for a few moments... before we go back and try to decide what to do. Just hold me...'
Stroking his hair, I nod, whispering aloud, "I promise. I will never let you go..."
//Muraki\\
It is late in the morning when I awaken, a penalty I pay, no doubt, from my excursions last night. However, it is a small price to pay indeed, for the good fortune that has befallen me.
I know without a doubt that I will see my Tsuzuki soon; he will refuse to believe that his friend has come to me of his own accord. The challenge from the infamous Tatsumi, Secretary of the Investigations Bureau, exhilarates me in another fashion. The subtlest change on my part can result in any number of responses from these two men; the possibilities are endless.
Still, the greatest prize may very well be the scientist who sleeps peacefully in my mansion. After the light blow I delivered to him, he had not moved again, not even when I removed his shirt to check on the status of his wounds. It had been no surprise to see them healed; I had taken the liberty of unwinding the soiled bandages and throwing them away.
Speaking of my little bird, I should probably go to see him. A quick glance at the clock reveals it to be 11:45. Wonderful; a meeting over an early lunch seems the best course of action.
A quick shower washes away the grime of the previous night, and a fresh change of clothing completes the beginning of a new day. Noon precisely, exactly as I'd planned.
The room in which my quest rests is down the hallway from my own, so it takes no time at all for me to reach it. I open the door quietly; it does not surprise me to see that he is still asleep.
I move to stand over him, using one hand to brush some of his golden hair from his face, "Rise and shine, my little bird."
Without ever opening his eyes, Watari gives a yawn, turning to lie on his stomach, "Five more minutes..."
Smirking, I allow my hand to trail down his bare flesh, "It is already past noon; surely you do not intend to lay in bed all day."
He stiffens at the touch, and I barely have time to remove my hand before he returns to his former position and sits up, "What are you doing?!"
Staring deep into those wide, golden eyes, I merely continue to smile at him, "Attempting to wake you for lunch, Watari. If you would rise and get dressed, I know of a charming Italian restaurant near by."
He blinks, but says nothing as he rises out of bed and slips on the over-sized shirt I had left lying on the chair beside the window. When he steps in front of the mirror, his hands rise to his hair, but he soon lowers them, "I forgot... I don't have anything to put it up with. Down it shall be then."
Seemingly satisfied, he turns to me, "I am ready when you are."
Raising an eyebrow, I give him a critical glance over, and I shake my head, "As soon as we are done with lunch, you are going to receive a new wardrobe; I simply cannot be seen with someone who does not dress appropriately."
His hand is already on the doorknob, and he pauses, "Appropriately for what? My only role here is to complete a job, correct? Aside from this outing, will I not be confined to the premises?"
"That remains to be seen. I am a man of strange moods. Come along."
I brush past him into the hallway, obtaining my coat from a rack beside the door. He does not utter a word of protest, merely following me as we begin to walk down the street. His eyes remain downcast the entire trip; I grab his arm to keep him from passing the restaurant up.
In a flash he looks up, his voice quiet, "Let go."
At last, a bit of spirit rising. I lean closer, to murmur in his ear, "What will you do if I do not?"
Anger rises in his gleaming eyes, but it seems to be directed more at himself than me, "What can I do? I came with you of my own accord; I have no right to tell you what to do or not."
These words trouble me. Where is the strength I have glimpsed in him before? Where is that spirit that I was only moments before lusting to break? Surely he is not so weak, so soon!
As if in answer to my thoughts, he speaks a bit softer, so that my ears alone can catch the words, "However, if you do not release me now, when I ask, I will wait until you are forced to and strike with whatever weapon is handiest, and I will be sure the resulting injury is painful."
The threat is neither frightening nor powerful, but it is enough to satisfy me. I release him, turning so that he will not see my smile, "Wonderful, my little bird. Come now; I am sure you are hungry."
Obtaining a table for two takes literally no time at all; I frequent this restaurant so often that they keep such a table waiting. I note with satisfaction that a bottle of red wine is brought promptly and served, even before our orders are taken.
The waiter has served me before, and he asks, "The veal cutlet on angel hair pasta with extra marinara sauce as usual, sir?[2]"
I give him a nod, and he turns to Watari, "And for you sir?"
"The manicotti.[3] And a glass of water, if you would be so kind."
Taking a sip of my wine, I watch with interest as he pushes his glass away, "You do not care for wine?"
He shakes his head, "No; wine does not care for me. It only takes a glass or two for me to become horribly intoxicated, and I am certain that you wish to discuss business. That would be difficult if I am drowning in a case of the hiccups and cannot form a coherent sentence, correct?"
Fiddling with my own glass, I glance slyly over the rim at him, "Indeed. Yet, I cannot help but think it would be worth the time to see such a thing. I bet you look glorious when you are not fully in control of your self..."
While this statement would have earned a deep blush and an outcry from my beloved Tsuzuki, the only change to the man sitting across from me the redness that rises to his face, as he smoothly moves back to the previous topic, "One thing puzzles me though. Knowing what I do about Maria Wong, I do not understand why you cannot perform this task on your own. Is it not a similar concept?"
Lacing my fingers together, I rest my chin upon them, "It would be, if the body was in the same state. All I have of Saki is his head..."
Tilting his head, my companion regards me with a slightly puzzled expression, "I see. In that case, what you wish for me to do is to create a body for this Saki?"
"Precisely."
"But why? What is this person to you, that you want them back so badly?"
I narrow my eyes, "Think carefully before you ask that, my dear Watari. You may not truly wish to know my reasons."
"But I do! How can I create a product to your satisfaction if I do not know what it is being designed for?"
The earnestness and honesty in his expression convince me that he truly desires the knowledge, and I stare down into my wine glass, "Saki was my bastard half-brother, only a little older than I. He killed my parents and attempted to kill me. His attempt was stopped by my bodyguard, who shot him. I want to bring Saki back... because I desire revenge."
Watari ceases to nibble upon his breadstick, "Why? Was not his death enough to avenge those of your parents?"
"No! One quick, painless death is nowhere near enough!" I tighten my grip slightly on the glass, never looking up, never raising my voice beyond an angry whisper. "I want to hear him plead for his life, feel his heartbeat slowly fade within my grasp! I have spent my entire life planning for this moment; no one can take that joy from me!"
I silence myself quickly as the waiter reappears with our meal, and I force the last remaining bits of emotion into slicing up my meat. It has been quite a long time since I have allowed such sentiments to surface in the presence of another; I cannot believe I have come so close to losing my carefully cultivated calm.
I glance at the scientist while he eats, noting the meticulous way he cuts his meal. The silver knife glides with a deadly precision under his hand; not a single morsel of food ever shows any sign of escaping. In a way, he shows a ruthlessness that seems shocking in one so seemingly gentle, a predatory aspect that no one would expect.
A heavy stillness forms over the meal, until my guest takes the last bite of his food, giving me a thoughtful look, "Interesting. I cannot imagine dedicating your life to revenge like that... all of those murders you committed simply to attain one ultimate death."
Raising an eyebrow, I take another sip of wine, "Oh? Then perhaps you understand better why you seem so strangely eager to assist such a cold-hearted murderer, one who would not think twice about killing you?"
The tiniest inkling of fear appears in his eyes, but he covers it with false mirth, his joyous laughter filling the air, "What ever do you mean? I feel we are engaged in a fair trade. I help you complete your lifetime dream of revenge, and in return, a few less deaths occur at your hands."
"What of you then, you who would help the enemy so easily? Have you given any thought to your own well-being?" I smile at him, loving the way his long fingers tighten slightly on his silver ware, even as he struggles to maintain a strong expression, "You are a pigeon in the talons of a hawk, my dear Watari. At any given moment, you can become the prey. Does that not frighten you?"
He licks his lips, "I would be lying if I said it did not. I choose, however, not to give into my fear; it is only when I do so that I have given myself up to you completely."
I yearn to take him suddenly, pull him in my arms and watch his strength slip slowly away. I settle for covering one of his hands with my own as we rise, peering into his cat-like yellow eyes, "I cannot wait... for when that day comes."
A cloud of defiance settles over his features, "That will never be."
"We shall see, my little bird. We shall see..." I take my hand away, signaling to the waiter to bring the check, "This adventure of ours has only just begun..."
//Watari\\
How does one best describe an outing with a mad man? Perhaps the best place to start... is that sometimes he does not appear mad at all. He is calm and polite in his manner, clean in his dress, and I do not have to mention his sheer physical beauty. I have no shame in admitting this; I would have to be foolish not to see why people are attracted to this man.
Silver hair, silver eyes. Pale, flawless skin. Tall, well-built. Clothes all in white; white as an angel. An angel with glasses and two red studs in his ears, the only amount of color anywhere upon him.
If I had no prior knowledge of Muraki's crimes, I would probably be unable to convince myself he was capable of such brutality. Since I do, I find myself noting small details in his person that another may overlook.
For one thing, although his voice seems at first to calm and soothe, I realize that it is so frigid that it merely makes one spellbound and numb, unable to feel or think whatever it was one had been before. Never once does he address you as a person; he associates you with something else. With Tsuzuki, I note it is a doll. For myself, a bird. This changing of other human beings into lesser creatures and objects probably makes it easier for him to kill.
As for his eyes... that look could pierce steel. He does not look at a person but through them; he searches through the darkest depths of your soul, pulling aspects of yourself that you had forgotten or wanted hidden from view. Or, if he isn't actually doing so, it certainly feels as though he is.
I will not say that I am comfortable in the company of an enemy; I do not know if it is even possible to be comfortable around Muraki. It seems as though he is always and never changing. In one breath he can compliment you and insult you, praise you and scold you. His calm demeanor never varies, nor does the secretive smile upon his face fade.
After our meal, he makes good on his promise to take me to get some clothes for my continued stay. As I walk through the streets, I am beginning to believe it was more of a threat then a promise.
He drags me into store after store; I have tried on so many changes of clothes that I cannot even keep them straight anymore! Colors swim before my eyes, mostly blues, browns, and greens; for some reason he seems to like these. Of course, there is also cream, white, and black for all practical occasions. I had managed, somehow, to convince him to go to the discount store where I bought my own clothes. A few pairs of pants and shirts and we were done there. At least I know I have SOMETHING in all of this that I am used to![4]
As we leave that store, I see a single, silvery eyebrow raise as he asks, "Is this all you rate yourself worthy of? A second hand store?"
I shrug, adding these new bags to the pile I already hold, "It doesn't really matter to me; clothing is clothing, right? All it does is cover up your nakedness; that's all it's designed to do."
He shakes his head, placing his hands into the pockets of his coat, "I believe you are wrong, Watari. Clothing can tell much about the person who wears it, whether it be the truth or a lie. If someone is dressed beautifully, then you can assume that that person is beautiful, in their own eyes if in no one else's. If someone dresses carelessly, you can assume they have no one to care for them. Clothing is the colorful wrapping paper over a gift; it can make something horrible seem lovely and something beautiful ugly. It can be used to hide your soul... or to express it."
I find myself hanging to each one of his carefully chosen words, almost enchanted by the logic behind them, "And for you? What does your clothing do for you?"
"What do you think, little scientist?"
Another mind game, another puzzle to crack. I consider it for a moment before responding, "I think that you... do both. You hide yourself behind your immaculate whites; everyone thinks they make you look celestial. They see white and think of purity and light, and they begin to associate you with that ideal. But you... you see white for what it truly is. Stark, lifeless... and cold. So, in your eyes, it accurately expresses who you are."
With a chuckle, his gaze slides to me, "Marvelous. Though, this leads us to ask... what does your choice of clothing express about you?"
"That I am a man who does not care what others think," I respond quickly, smiling with good humor.
That vanishes however as his eyes remains on me, and he speaks in that velvety voice of his, "Oh? I think, perhaps, that is not true. I think it is a sign of an unconscious feeling of worthlessness; no one will ever look at you in a way in which you would wish to attract them, so why dress beautifully? You bear the symbols of your trade as a scientist, but you do not attempt to make yourself known as anything else. You are a male bird with no plumage, being looked over by others of the species.[5]"
I suddenly realize just how close he is to me when I feel his warm breath brush my ear, "Yet, this is what you want. Why? Why do you hide yourself away from the world? What has happened to you... to make you feel so worthless, to make you believe you are so utterly alone?"
I jerk away from him, my heartbeat rushing as heat floods my face, my voice a hiss, "What I feel, what I think is none of your concern! Why do you wish to know these things? Why do they matter to you?!"
That same smile graces his face, and he turns his back to me, his voice a sensuous whisper, "I have told you, my little bird. I cannot wait for the day I possess you completely; all of you, mind, body, spirit. I will delve into this darkness that inhabits your soul before you leave me; I will gain pleasure from you in many ways. You will hold no secrets from me..."
A shiver runs down my spine, and I cannot stop the slight quiver in my words, "No. My secrets are my own; you cannot take them from me. No one can. Anything you wish to know... you shall have to figure out on your own."
"Then, that shall be the first great game between us. However, perhaps it is best for us now to return home. After we dispense with these parcels, I can show you where you will begin working."
This abrupt change in attitude and conversation relieves me, although I know I should be probably be alarmed instead; work is a topic I can cover with ease. Quickening my pace to match his, I make sure we are side by side before speaking, "Am I right in assuming that you wish for me to create a body that will use the head of your dead brother instead of an artificial one?"
"You are indeed. I had hoped that the cloning technology created by my late mentor would help me to create a perfect clone of Saki; alas, he worried more about creating various parts of the human body instead of a whole one. And of course, I had not the time to discover anything particularly useful from my beloved Tsuzuki; he stabbed me before I could experiment too much upon him."
With that, I let the matter drop, subsiding into silence. He unnerves me more with each statement he makes, but I refuse to show it. I will not become weak now; I must complete this job! I must remember why it is that I am working for this man, this man who I have always considered to be an enemy.
When we return to the mansion, I place the bags in the room he indicates to me, then follow him to the back of the house, as he speaks, "After the last encounter with you and your fellow shinigami, I barely managed to save Saki. I did not have any other place to put him really, so I converted the part of the mansion my grandfather had made into a hospital into a laboratory in order to hold him. It should have everything you require; if not, simply tell me and I shall arrange for it to be brought to you."
When we reach the place he mentions, my mouth drops slightly. This place is a scientist's dream! Everywhere I look I can see computers of the highest caliber and quality, stocks of chemicals and supplies for any experiment you could wish to do. Tatsumi would never allow me to have a lab like this, never in a million years, and I do not think I would blame him. He would not allow it for the cost; I would not allow it because I would be afraid I would never step out again.
I feel like the proverbial kid in a candy store, but I cannot stop myself from wandering about, stroking some of the instruments gently with two fingers. Muraki's footsteps make a distinct sound as he follows me, "You seem pleased, Watari."
I hesitate, but see no harm in speaking my mind, "I am not only pleased but impressed; this is certainly one of the finest labs I have ever been in. And, I have seen many, many labs in my time."
"Oh?"
Nodding, I peer into one of the drawers, which turns out to be full of drawing supplies. I take out a pencil, fidgeting with it slightly, "Well, whenever I was alive, I used to work freelance. You know how it is; every company has different standards for their labs. I remember whenever Akira used to-"
I stop myself in mid-sentence, even though I hear Muraki's purr, "Yes? You were saying, Watari?"
I shake my head, giving a false laugh as I replace the pencil, "N-nothing important..." I give a slight curse. What is WRONG with me?! I have never revealed this much of my past life to anyone; why would I do so to him? This lab setting... I must have forgotten myself. It feels so much like home...
I notice a large set of doors in the very back of the lab, and I walk over to them, "Where do these lead?"
Staying close to me, almost uncomfortably close, he murmurs, "I do not suppose that you would believe that I do not wish for you to go in there, and that if you do, you will find the decomposing bodies of many women hanging around on hooks?"
I stiffen, unable to tell if he is joking or not. Finally, I swallow back the knot in my throat to respond, "Well, I never pictured you as much of a Blue Beard killer..."
His chuckle may as well be a caress, "I am not; I find it much easier to simply kill a woman quickly, rather than marry her, put her through the torments of her own curiosity, and then use her as a way to kill other women. I think the whole Blue Beard ideal would be a bit of waste. Some people are not even worth torturing..."
I feel a hand run down the curve of my back, and my throat becomes suddenly dry, but I keep a poker face, "Oh? I suppose you expect me to believe that Tsuzuki and Hisoka are honored then for your interest?"
The wandering hand slides a return journey up my spine, up to caress my neck and tangle in my hair, "They are such fun, but not who I had in mind right at the moment..."
I do not hesitate; in an instant I pull myself away, ignoring the slight protest the roots of my hair give. I try and keep my face expressionless, even though I know I cannot possibly hide my discomfort, and I turn away from him, "I want to see where the door leads."
"Very well then; stand aside."
I do as he commands, allowing him to open the door and beckon me inside, "Saki... I have brought someone to see you..."
I freeze as soon as I enter, my eyes wide. I had been told that Muraki kept his brother's head; I had even seen at a distance that night so long ago, when Hisoka had rescued Tsuzuki. But nothing... nothing had prepared me for the sight up close.
Floating in a fluid, contained in a glass jar, lies the head of Saki. Wires extend from the throat; great metal coils connect it to the sides, keeping it steady. Lifeless, soulless eyes gaze at nothing, and I can feel the bile rising in my throat.
"You have grown pale; are you quite well? You look as if you have seen a ghost..."
I find my voice again, amazed at how weak it sounds, "Is that not what I am looking at? A ghost? This is nothing but a lifeless shell, a mockery of the existence that once flourished within! It stinks of death..."
Muraki's smile deepens, as he takes off his glasses for a moment, "Ah. I have never understood, how a shinigami, a Guardian of Death, can seem so squeamish in the face of it."
My pride flares like a dying candle that is breath upon. Squeamish?! Sneering, I turn on my heel, "It simply too me by surprise, though I suppose it should not have done so. I will not react in such a manner again."
I hear a chuckle, and suddenly there is a strong hand on my shoulder, "Always so brave in the face of danger; always so tough. You intend to never allow me a moment's satisfaction, do you?"
"I will not allow you any feelings of power; that is what you wish of me, is it not?"
Another arm wraps solidly around my waist, and he pulls me close to him, silken lips on my ear, as he gives me his response, "Indeed, and I will have it, my little bird. I am master in this house, and you will come to understand this, like it or not."
I wait a fraction of a second before digging my elbow into his ribs and straining to pull free. I may as well try to escape a grip of steel, and I cannot help but gasp as the hold on my waist tightens, while the other hand strokes the back of my neck.
He practically drags back into the lab, closing the door to the storage section behind him. Then, he stands perfectly still, pulling me against him. The hand on my neck moves to my face, cupping my chin. With a hiss, I attempt to bite at those ivory white fingers, but he pulls them away, "Tsk tsk. What a disobedient pet..."
"I am not a pet! You care nothing for pets; I still remember what you did to 003!"
His laugh is black velvet, "003? The name of your owl companion, I presume? I was right in sensing you cared something for that creature..."
A flare of anger rises within me, as I struggle against the hold, "He may be a lowly creature to you, but he is my friend! I will never forgive you for what you did... I will never forget!"
He releases me for a split second before whirling me around and pressing me against his chest, his face mere centimeters from my own, "I hope not. Though, I do not know what you will do about it. What form of revenge do you have devised, and how will you act it out? A tantalizing puzzle indeed..."
I can feel my eyes widen as he propels me to a patient's cot, forcing me on my back in a matter of instants. I try to sit up, but his hands lock onto my arms, forcing them above my head, and I can see the amusement shining in his smoky gaze, "Why do you look so angry, so frightened? Surely you trust me?"
"TRUST YOU?! HA! I trust you about as much as an ant trusts an anteater!" I put the full force of my anger in those words, no longer caring for the consequences. This is my fault, my own fault for forgetting, even for a millisecond, that this is a dangerous, psychotic man. A part of me knows I deserve whatever happens to me; another part cries out in protest.
With a cryptic smile, he releases me, walking over to the medicine cabinet, "You promised me a blood sample; I think now is as good a time as any to take it..."
I blink, confused by this sudden change of events, "What?"
He returns with a butterfly needle[6], tourniquet, and two empty vials to fill, a single brow raising, "Did I not make myself clear? I wish the blood sample from you to examine, as we agreed."
Taking a few deep breaths, trying to control the rampant tempo of my heart, I growl, "You were toying with me! If you wanted a blood sample, why did you not just say so? Why the show of a few moments past?"
"You are so amusing, my lovely Watari. I told you; I am master here. I can do as I please. Now, lie still like a good boy while I do this, and then you can start on your work."
As he approaches me with the needle, I roll up my sleeve, then lie back, closing my eyes, "Get on with it then."
[1] I have chosen to use the Japanese custom of placing the last name in front of the first. That should be sort of obvious, but notes are always nice. ^-^;
[2] Thanks to my good friend Aqua Drageen for helping me decide what to feed Muraki. She is his fangirl after all and not me. The symbolism behind the lamb's innocence can be blamed for its being eaten, as well as the redness of blood for the sauce. Angel hair pasta should be obvious, ne? I don't know why I felt the need to explain it, but I do.
[3] Okay... I must make a note NOT to do this ever again in the chapter. It becomes a nasty little habit, doesn't it? Anyway, the reason Watari ordered manicotti has no symbolism or anything. It's simply because it's what I like to eat occasionally and I know how to spell it.
[4] Is anyone else getting the urge to have a Watari doll of your very own to dress up? XD
[5] Yes... prepare for the bird analogies. There will be many throughout the story, some clichéd and some of my own. Just a warning. ^o^ GAH! THIS WILL BE THE LAST NOTE! 0
[6] Well, I thought the one above would be the last note. However, I thought I might explain what a butterfly needle is, for those that do not know. It is the smallest needle used for obtaining blood; it is relatively painless. I know this because my mother is a medical technologist and works with them everyday of her life.
Special Notes: I am attempting some character depth into Tatsumi. Let us all hope it comes out well. ^-^; The chapter is a little bit longer than usual, since I had extra time to work on it. It's also been posted a bit early. I can't believe I updated so fast. O_O I just hope nobody finds it too boring. _ _
'' indicates thoughts or telepathy
//|| indicates POV
//Tsuzuki\\
I hum merrily as I walk down the hallway, a tray carefully balanced in my hands. It took me far longer to locate the tea then I had planned, but thankfully I still had some cake stashed away at my desk. Well... many cakes, to be precise, of various types and flavors. Not knowing which my friend would prefer, I had decided to play it safe and brought all of them. Watari, much like the rest of us, should be more than happy to have a sweet snack waiting for him when he wakes up.
When I reach the door to his room, I am struck with a dilemma. With both hands needed to hold the tray, I cannot turn the handle. I could, of course, try to balance everything on one hand, but the mental image of it all crashing to the floor is simply too real for me to risk it.
I cannot knock and ask Watari to open it; that is simply foolish! The poor, injured man needs his rest; it would be like room service telling you to come down and get your breakfast yourself!
I have just about decided to place the tray on the ground and look positively silly by picking it back up in my friend's presence when another hand appears on the handle, "Here, Tsuzuki; allow me to help you."
I recognize the voice to be Tatsumi's, and I smile at him gratefully, "Thank you; I suppose I should have thought ahead and been prepared for this problem..."
Shrugging, he stares at me with calm blue eyes, "Difficulties appear before us every day; it is merely the way we handle the situations that matters. You can not live without expecting problems to arise."
"Too true," I acknowledge. "How about we open the door and force Watari to deal with the problem of having three people attempt to share tea with only two cups?"
"It will be my pleasure..."
As soon as the door opens, I spread a smile across my face and pull out my most cheerful voice, "Oh Watari! You have visitors!"
However, my happiness soon fades as I stare at the room before me. It is completely empty, save for the bloody clothes removed from the injured scientist. The blankets have been pushed aside, and the window is open, allowing cherry blossoms to float in, creating a thin, pink layer over the floor.
My hands become nerveless; the tray crashes to the floor, sending shards of porcelain and countless desserts into a miserable heap. I have no care in the world for that now, as I rush to the window, staring out into the night.
There is no sign of Watari, no sign of a struggle, but I feel fear and panic rise in my heart, "Damn it! If Muraki has him I will never forgive myself!"
"Tsuzuki! Wait!"
I hear Tatsumi's cry, but I ignore it; he will attempt to stop me, to calm me. There is no time for such things! Even as I hurry out the window and into the orchard, I know that Watari's life could be in danger.
I curse my own stupidity. How could I have been so foolish for the second time on this night? I could have sent someone else for the damned tea; I should have been standing guard! How many misfortunes is it going to take for me to get my act together?!
I see nothing on the ground, and I take to the air, skimming the area swiftly. As my eyes comb over the many trees, a spot of white appears, and with a hiss, I fly towards it. As I grow closer, I begin to make out the outline of another being, and as my feet hit the ground, I shout, "MURAKI!"
Calmly, oh so calmly does he turn to face me, his all too familiar smile set on his face, "Ah, my beloved. I was wondering if you were going to try and stop me at all."
An unconscious Watari lies in his arms, his head resting against Muraki's chest as the doctor holds him carefully. With a tilt of his head, he indicates my friend, "This is what you are seeking, is it not?"
Clutching my hands into fists, I do not try to hide my rage, "You know it is. Can you not leave him in peace? Has he not suffered enough this night?!"
"No, my lovely doll, apparently he has not. He allowed himself to fall into my hands, after all," Muraki responds, cocking his head. "Quite an interesting catch, this scientist of yours. Would you believe that he willingly decided to come with me?"
"Do you think I am a fool? Watari would never do such a thing," I snap, taking a step closer to him. "You will not take him!"
"How your amethyst eyes continue to gleam with anger; it forces me to wonder how beautiful they would be in the peak of passion... However, that is contemplation for another night, a sweet nocturnal interlude that I will cherish. I must show my guest home."
The smile never fades from his lips as he looks at me, and as always when he does so, I cannot shake the feeling that he is somehow looking deeper, staring into my soul, "I know that you do not believe me, Tsuzuki. Yet, I promise you that it is the truth. I merely hope that I see you soon, in more pleasant circumstances so that I may better try to convince you..."
I narrow my eyes, a mere two feet from him now, "What makes you think that I will allow you to leave this place with him? I have already told you; I will not allow you to take him! I do not care what he told you; you do not know a thing about him!"
Now Muraki chuckles, "Is that so? I do believe I know one or two things about him that not even you do, beloved, things that you would never think existed beneath the shell he surrounds himself with..."
"Regardless of what you think, Tsuzuki is correct. You will not leave this place with Watari..."
I recognize the voice as Tatsumi's, and I see him emerge from the shadows of the trees, his arms folded across his chest. His sapphire blue eyes are as laser beams, cold and penetrating, and I can hardly suppress a shiver, although they are not directed at me. It has been a long time since I have seen Tatsumi this enraged...
Muraki's smile only deepens, "Ah yes, Secretary Tatsumi. I believe the last time you graced me with your presence was at Kyoto, no?"
His lips set in a thin line, my former partner nods, "Indeed. Apparently you have forgotten what I told you then, and it has come time to remind you. To lay a hand on one of the employees beneath me... is to entail my wrath."
The black aura of Tatsumi's shadow power swirls about him, and my eyes widen in slight fear. If he attacks Muraki now, then Watari will undoubtedly be hurt. Surely he will not take such a risk?
Evidently our mutual enemy agrees with my thought, tightening his hold on the man in his arms, and the only sign of his slight annoyance is the miniscule narrowing of his silver eyes, "I am sorry, Tatsumi; your parental instincts will have to be laid at rest for now. I simply must get poor Mister Watari out of the elements; I do not wish to have to deal with a sick patient so early in the game. We shall have to settle this... another time."
I give a cry as a white glow surrounds him, knowing all too well what will happen next, "NO! MURAKI!"
Tatsumi gives a curse, and a single ebony tendril rapidly extends towards the psychotic doctor. It is too late; the radiance of the light continues to grow, until it vanishes entirely. Muraki is gone, and with him, Watari, the man I was supposed to be protecting.
"NO! DAMN IT ALL!" I give a scream, falling to my knees. In my fury, I beat my fists against the grassy ground, ignoring the sting it causes. Tears rapidly fill my eyes, and I do not try to stop them, "WHY?! WHY CAN I NEVER SEEM TO STOP THIS FROM HAPPENING?!"
'Tsuzuki? Tsuzuki are you okay?'
Hisoka's voice flashes in my mind, and I grasp the link gratefully, sending all of my pain and anguish through, 'Hisoka... Muraki took him! Muraki has Watari! And it's all my fault...'
'No; it is not. Everything will be fine; you did nothing wrong. I will come as soon as I can. Stay with Tatsumi for now, and please do not be so harsh on yourself... my love...'
Hisoka grows silent, but I can feel two strong hands on my shoulders, and as I raise my eyes, a bleary picture of Tatsumi comes into focus, "Tsuzuki... no more of this. This pain is what Muraki wants; do not give in to him!"
"Tatsumi... this is my fault..."
Those fierce azure eyes bear into me, but they soften, and his voice becomes quiet, "Listen to me Tsuzuki. This is not your fault; I know Hisoka has probably already assured you of that through your link. Now, I am telling you the same. I should not have hesitated to attack. I have lost us Watari, but I swear to you that I will stop at nothing to get him back. Like you, he is under my wing, my protection; I would search for you or Hisoka to the ends of the earth, and I will do the same for him."
Such sentiment coming from Tatsumi, a wealth of feeling I have never seen before. I knew he felt protective of me, but to see him now, so concerned over my fellow shinigami allows me some insight I have never had. He cares for us all, in his own gruff way; while he has been acting in the role of an elder brother to me, he has been playing father to everyone else.
I cannot contain the sobs that begin to form, and he does not question it, pulling me into his arms and lying my head against his chest, "Let the blame fall on me... as I am the guilty one, Tsuzuki. Do not torment yourself anymore..."
Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around him, "As you wish... Tatsumi..."
//Hisoka\\
The more I search for someone to help 003, the more I thank fate for never granting me a pet. I have been to three veterinary clinics already; all three have been closed. Is there not at least one animal doctor who realizes that sometimes animals are hurt at night as well?
It deepens my frustration when the poor creature awakes, a soft hoot his only sign of discomfort. He should not have to suffer this way! All he did was attempt to protect his master; loyalty should be rewarded, not punished. All I can do to sooth him is stroke his head feathers very gently, and even that makes him shiver.
I am on my way to an animal shelter now. True, this is not a veterinarian's practice, but surely they must have somebody on hand that would know how to fix the wing of an injured bird?
I will not know until I try, and I knock on the door, "Hello? Is anyone in there?"
"Just a moment, please!" The door opens, revealing a smiling woman of about forty. She beckons for me to come inside, her hazel eyes taking a glance over 003, "Oh my... what happened to him? The poor dear looks like he's had a bad accident."
Nodding, I pass the bird to her awaiting arms, "A very cruel man snapped his wing, and I had no knowledge of how to deaden the pain. I simply tried to find someone to help him as soon as possible."
"You did the right thing, young man. His wing is definitely broken, but I won't be sure of the extent of the damage until I run an x-ray. By the way, I am Doctor Sanami Hikaru[1]." She extends a hand, and I take it, not wishing to offend her.
The rush of memories and emotions that flow through please me. She has dedicated her entire life to the care of animals; while still in school, she had to wait to get her injured pet to a clinic since it got sick at night. That inspired her to keep her own shelter open after the others had closed. I wish I could thank her for being so wise.
Doctor Sanami releases me and begins to head towards the back, indicating with a jerk of her head for me to follow, "I hope you don't mind, but I have to ask you a few questions. First of all; is this a wild animal?"
The question surprises me slightly, but I suppose it truly shouldn't. After all, 003 is an animal, and I never have known of too many people who kept one as a pet, "No. He belongs to a friend of mine, who was sadly injured and unable to bring him."
She nods, resting the bird carefully on a small table, "He seemed pretty tame." She runs her hands over the wing, and when 003 gives a cry of pain, she merely murmurs softly to him, "Easy there boy... just a preliminary check to see what I can see..."
Within a few moments, she calls for a nurse, who takes the wide-eyed 003 away. I move to follow, but the doctor shakes her head, "It's alright; that's our x-ray technician. She'll bring us the pictures just as soon as they are done. Now, what is the name of the owl?"
"003," I pause at her raised eyebrow. "Is there something wrong?"
She gives a chuckle, writing it on the chart, "Well, no. It's just a strange name; don't you think? It's a number after all; nothing really personal about it."
Blinking, I shrug, "Watari named him, not me. I have never heard either one of them complain."
"Watari is the name of the owner then? Could I have his full name and address?"
I hesitate before speaking, "Is that really necessary?"
Doctor Sanami gives me a smile, "It is only for file purposes; our records are strictly confidential. This information is merely in case something should go wrong while the animal is in our care; we want to be able to inform the owner immediately."
"Well, I brought him in. Would my information do?"
"Why, of course! Is there some reason you do not want your friend to be contacted?"
I nod, admitting as much of the truth as I dare, "You see, when he and his owl were attacked, he was hurt badly. He is in the hospital right now, and I do not want the first thing he hears when he wakes up to be that there is something wrong with his pet."
Sympathy rises in the eyes of the doctor, and she murmurs, "Yes, I quite understand. Your name then please?"
"Hisoka Kurosaki."
Before she can ask me my place of residence, the nurse returns with the x-ray pictures. I cannot help but give a sigh of relief as she places her clipboard aside and takes me over to a screen to view them, "Well, the good news is that this is a nice, clean break. This should have no problem healing at all, and there will be no permanent scars or crippling."
She turns teal eyes towards me, "I'd like to keep him here overnight. That should give us enough time to set his wound properly. You can return for him in tomorrow; my brother, who shares partnership of this clinic, works the daytime shift."
I accept the proposition readily, "That will be fine. I shall come for him tomorrow then. Thank you Doctor Sanami!"
"Mister Hisoka? Wait! I still haven't gotten your add-"
The shutting of the door cuts her off, and I breath a sign of relief as I walk down the street. That saves me the trouble of trying to think of an address on the spot; a more elegant solution could not have been found.
I only take a few steps before a jolt of pain stabs at my heart, and I give a gasp, as I realize where it comes from, 'Tsuzuki? Tsuzuki are you okay?'
'Hisoka... Muraki took him! Muraki has Watari! And it's all my fault...'
A sequence of events appear in my mind, ending with Tatsumi's attack on Muraki, and I hasten to reassure him, 'No; it is not. Everything will be fine; you did nothing wrong. I will come as soon as I can. Stay with Tatsumi for now, and please do not be so harsh on yourself... my love...'
As I feel his relief flood through me, I wonder why I added the last. I know that I love Tsuzuki, but I have never been the type to admit such feelings in words. Perhaps it is because we are so closely linked that I can be so honest with him?
Regardless, I phase into my invisible form, rushing to get back to the Investigations Bureau as quickly as I can. I know that Tsuzuki and Tatsumi will be in the cherry tree grove; I even know the exact spot. It is merely getting there that will take time.
I rematerialize in the orchard, running the remaining length, "Tsuzuki?! Tsu-"
I freeze in mid-step, my eyes widening. There, beneath the cherry trees, sat Tatsumi, his arms around Tsuzuki, who sobbed into his chest. Soft, pink petals float from the over abundant branches, although neither of them move in response to them. It is a tender, loving gesture, and before I can stop it, a red-hot lash of jealousy strikes my heart. I am the one supposed to be tending to Tsuzuki; I am the one who is supposed to give my partner comfort and love!
Was it not Tatsumi himself who had told me this so long ago, in Kyoto? Had he not, when I asked him to stay and comfort Tsuzuki, tell me that from then on I was on my own in doing so? I cannot keep the envy I feel out, and I seethe in silence.
'Hisoka... Hisoka, please don't be angry. It hurts...'
Hearing Tsuzuki's mental plea causes the negative emotion to vanish, as I kneel beside Tatsumi to look at him. I am forced to recall that day, so long ago it seems, that I told him how much his anger hurt me. Look at what I have done now; I have put him through that very same pain.
His amethyst eyes, bright with tears fix on me, and he leaves one embrace to enter into another. As he sobs in my arms, I soothe him, 'Tsuzuki, I am sorry. I will not be angry; I will not be jealous anymore.'
'Just.. hold me for a few moments... before we go back and try to decide what to do. Just hold me...'
Stroking his hair, I nod, whispering aloud, "I promise. I will never let you go..."
//Muraki\\
It is late in the morning when I awaken, a penalty I pay, no doubt, from my excursions last night. However, it is a small price to pay indeed, for the good fortune that has befallen me.
I know without a doubt that I will see my Tsuzuki soon; he will refuse to believe that his friend has come to me of his own accord. The challenge from the infamous Tatsumi, Secretary of the Investigations Bureau, exhilarates me in another fashion. The subtlest change on my part can result in any number of responses from these two men; the possibilities are endless.
Still, the greatest prize may very well be the scientist who sleeps peacefully in my mansion. After the light blow I delivered to him, he had not moved again, not even when I removed his shirt to check on the status of his wounds. It had been no surprise to see them healed; I had taken the liberty of unwinding the soiled bandages and throwing them away.
Speaking of my little bird, I should probably go to see him. A quick glance at the clock reveals it to be 11:45. Wonderful; a meeting over an early lunch seems the best course of action.
A quick shower washes away the grime of the previous night, and a fresh change of clothing completes the beginning of a new day. Noon precisely, exactly as I'd planned.
The room in which my quest rests is down the hallway from my own, so it takes no time at all for me to reach it. I open the door quietly; it does not surprise me to see that he is still asleep.
I move to stand over him, using one hand to brush some of his golden hair from his face, "Rise and shine, my little bird."
Without ever opening his eyes, Watari gives a yawn, turning to lie on his stomach, "Five more minutes..."
Smirking, I allow my hand to trail down his bare flesh, "It is already past noon; surely you do not intend to lay in bed all day."
He stiffens at the touch, and I barely have time to remove my hand before he returns to his former position and sits up, "What are you doing?!"
Staring deep into those wide, golden eyes, I merely continue to smile at him, "Attempting to wake you for lunch, Watari. If you would rise and get dressed, I know of a charming Italian restaurant near by."
He blinks, but says nothing as he rises out of bed and slips on the over-sized shirt I had left lying on the chair beside the window. When he steps in front of the mirror, his hands rise to his hair, but he soon lowers them, "I forgot... I don't have anything to put it up with. Down it shall be then."
Seemingly satisfied, he turns to me, "I am ready when you are."
Raising an eyebrow, I give him a critical glance over, and I shake my head, "As soon as we are done with lunch, you are going to receive a new wardrobe; I simply cannot be seen with someone who does not dress appropriately."
His hand is already on the doorknob, and he pauses, "Appropriately for what? My only role here is to complete a job, correct? Aside from this outing, will I not be confined to the premises?"
"That remains to be seen. I am a man of strange moods. Come along."
I brush past him into the hallway, obtaining my coat from a rack beside the door. He does not utter a word of protest, merely following me as we begin to walk down the street. His eyes remain downcast the entire trip; I grab his arm to keep him from passing the restaurant up.
In a flash he looks up, his voice quiet, "Let go."
At last, a bit of spirit rising. I lean closer, to murmur in his ear, "What will you do if I do not?"
Anger rises in his gleaming eyes, but it seems to be directed more at himself than me, "What can I do? I came with you of my own accord; I have no right to tell you what to do or not."
These words trouble me. Where is the strength I have glimpsed in him before? Where is that spirit that I was only moments before lusting to break? Surely he is not so weak, so soon!
As if in answer to my thoughts, he speaks a bit softer, so that my ears alone can catch the words, "However, if you do not release me now, when I ask, I will wait until you are forced to and strike with whatever weapon is handiest, and I will be sure the resulting injury is painful."
The threat is neither frightening nor powerful, but it is enough to satisfy me. I release him, turning so that he will not see my smile, "Wonderful, my little bird. Come now; I am sure you are hungry."
Obtaining a table for two takes literally no time at all; I frequent this restaurant so often that they keep such a table waiting. I note with satisfaction that a bottle of red wine is brought promptly and served, even before our orders are taken.
The waiter has served me before, and he asks, "The veal cutlet on angel hair pasta with extra marinara sauce as usual, sir?[2]"
I give him a nod, and he turns to Watari, "And for you sir?"
"The manicotti.[3] And a glass of water, if you would be so kind."
Taking a sip of my wine, I watch with interest as he pushes his glass away, "You do not care for wine?"
He shakes his head, "No; wine does not care for me. It only takes a glass or two for me to become horribly intoxicated, and I am certain that you wish to discuss business. That would be difficult if I am drowning in a case of the hiccups and cannot form a coherent sentence, correct?"
Fiddling with my own glass, I glance slyly over the rim at him, "Indeed. Yet, I cannot help but think it would be worth the time to see such a thing. I bet you look glorious when you are not fully in control of your self..."
While this statement would have earned a deep blush and an outcry from my beloved Tsuzuki, the only change to the man sitting across from me the redness that rises to his face, as he smoothly moves back to the previous topic, "One thing puzzles me though. Knowing what I do about Maria Wong, I do not understand why you cannot perform this task on your own. Is it not a similar concept?"
Lacing my fingers together, I rest my chin upon them, "It would be, if the body was in the same state. All I have of Saki is his head..."
Tilting his head, my companion regards me with a slightly puzzled expression, "I see. In that case, what you wish for me to do is to create a body for this Saki?"
"Precisely."
"But why? What is this person to you, that you want them back so badly?"
I narrow my eyes, "Think carefully before you ask that, my dear Watari. You may not truly wish to know my reasons."
"But I do! How can I create a product to your satisfaction if I do not know what it is being designed for?"
The earnestness and honesty in his expression convince me that he truly desires the knowledge, and I stare down into my wine glass, "Saki was my bastard half-brother, only a little older than I. He killed my parents and attempted to kill me. His attempt was stopped by my bodyguard, who shot him. I want to bring Saki back... because I desire revenge."
Watari ceases to nibble upon his breadstick, "Why? Was not his death enough to avenge those of your parents?"
"No! One quick, painless death is nowhere near enough!" I tighten my grip slightly on the glass, never looking up, never raising my voice beyond an angry whisper. "I want to hear him plead for his life, feel his heartbeat slowly fade within my grasp! I have spent my entire life planning for this moment; no one can take that joy from me!"
I silence myself quickly as the waiter reappears with our meal, and I force the last remaining bits of emotion into slicing up my meat. It has been quite a long time since I have allowed such sentiments to surface in the presence of another; I cannot believe I have come so close to losing my carefully cultivated calm.
I glance at the scientist while he eats, noting the meticulous way he cuts his meal. The silver knife glides with a deadly precision under his hand; not a single morsel of food ever shows any sign of escaping. In a way, he shows a ruthlessness that seems shocking in one so seemingly gentle, a predatory aspect that no one would expect.
A heavy stillness forms over the meal, until my guest takes the last bite of his food, giving me a thoughtful look, "Interesting. I cannot imagine dedicating your life to revenge like that... all of those murders you committed simply to attain one ultimate death."
Raising an eyebrow, I take another sip of wine, "Oh? Then perhaps you understand better why you seem so strangely eager to assist such a cold-hearted murderer, one who would not think twice about killing you?"
The tiniest inkling of fear appears in his eyes, but he covers it with false mirth, his joyous laughter filling the air, "What ever do you mean? I feel we are engaged in a fair trade. I help you complete your lifetime dream of revenge, and in return, a few less deaths occur at your hands."
"What of you then, you who would help the enemy so easily? Have you given any thought to your own well-being?" I smile at him, loving the way his long fingers tighten slightly on his silver ware, even as he struggles to maintain a strong expression, "You are a pigeon in the talons of a hawk, my dear Watari. At any given moment, you can become the prey. Does that not frighten you?"
He licks his lips, "I would be lying if I said it did not. I choose, however, not to give into my fear; it is only when I do so that I have given myself up to you completely."
I yearn to take him suddenly, pull him in my arms and watch his strength slip slowly away. I settle for covering one of his hands with my own as we rise, peering into his cat-like yellow eyes, "I cannot wait... for when that day comes."
A cloud of defiance settles over his features, "That will never be."
"We shall see, my little bird. We shall see..." I take my hand away, signaling to the waiter to bring the check, "This adventure of ours has only just begun..."
//Watari\\
How does one best describe an outing with a mad man? Perhaps the best place to start... is that sometimes he does not appear mad at all. He is calm and polite in his manner, clean in his dress, and I do not have to mention his sheer physical beauty. I have no shame in admitting this; I would have to be foolish not to see why people are attracted to this man.
Silver hair, silver eyes. Pale, flawless skin. Tall, well-built. Clothes all in white; white as an angel. An angel with glasses and two red studs in his ears, the only amount of color anywhere upon him.
If I had no prior knowledge of Muraki's crimes, I would probably be unable to convince myself he was capable of such brutality. Since I do, I find myself noting small details in his person that another may overlook.
For one thing, although his voice seems at first to calm and soothe, I realize that it is so frigid that it merely makes one spellbound and numb, unable to feel or think whatever it was one had been before. Never once does he address you as a person; he associates you with something else. With Tsuzuki, I note it is a doll. For myself, a bird. This changing of other human beings into lesser creatures and objects probably makes it easier for him to kill.
As for his eyes... that look could pierce steel. He does not look at a person but through them; he searches through the darkest depths of your soul, pulling aspects of yourself that you had forgotten or wanted hidden from view. Or, if he isn't actually doing so, it certainly feels as though he is.
I will not say that I am comfortable in the company of an enemy; I do not know if it is even possible to be comfortable around Muraki. It seems as though he is always and never changing. In one breath he can compliment you and insult you, praise you and scold you. His calm demeanor never varies, nor does the secretive smile upon his face fade.
After our meal, he makes good on his promise to take me to get some clothes for my continued stay. As I walk through the streets, I am beginning to believe it was more of a threat then a promise.
He drags me into store after store; I have tried on so many changes of clothes that I cannot even keep them straight anymore! Colors swim before my eyes, mostly blues, browns, and greens; for some reason he seems to like these. Of course, there is also cream, white, and black for all practical occasions. I had managed, somehow, to convince him to go to the discount store where I bought my own clothes. A few pairs of pants and shirts and we were done there. At least I know I have SOMETHING in all of this that I am used to![4]
As we leave that store, I see a single, silvery eyebrow raise as he asks, "Is this all you rate yourself worthy of? A second hand store?"
I shrug, adding these new bags to the pile I already hold, "It doesn't really matter to me; clothing is clothing, right? All it does is cover up your nakedness; that's all it's designed to do."
He shakes his head, placing his hands into the pockets of his coat, "I believe you are wrong, Watari. Clothing can tell much about the person who wears it, whether it be the truth or a lie. If someone is dressed beautifully, then you can assume that that person is beautiful, in their own eyes if in no one else's. If someone dresses carelessly, you can assume they have no one to care for them. Clothing is the colorful wrapping paper over a gift; it can make something horrible seem lovely and something beautiful ugly. It can be used to hide your soul... or to express it."
I find myself hanging to each one of his carefully chosen words, almost enchanted by the logic behind them, "And for you? What does your clothing do for you?"
"What do you think, little scientist?"
Another mind game, another puzzle to crack. I consider it for a moment before responding, "I think that you... do both. You hide yourself behind your immaculate whites; everyone thinks they make you look celestial. They see white and think of purity and light, and they begin to associate you with that ideal. But you... you see white for what it truly is. Stark, lifeless... and cold. So, in your eyes, it accurately expresses who you are."
With a chuckle, his gaze slides to me, "Marvelous. Though, this leads us to ask... what does your choice of clothing express about you?"
"That I am a man who does not care what others think," I respond quickly, smiling with good humor.
That vanishes however as his eyes remains on me, and he speaks in that velvety voice of his, "Oh? I think, perhaps, that is not true. I think it is a sign of an unconscious feeling of worthlessness; no one will ever look at you in a way in which you would wish to attract them, so why dress beautifully? You bear the symbols of your trade as a scientist, but you do not attempt to make yourself known as anything else. You are a male bird with no plumage, being looked over by others of the species.[5]"
I suddenly realize just how close he is to me when I feel his warm breath brush my ear, "Yet, this is what you want. Why? Why do you hide yourself away from the world? What has happened to you... to make you feel so worthless, to make you believe you are so utterly alone?"
I jerk away from him, my heartbeat rushing as heat floods my face, my voice a hiss, "What I feel, what I think is none of your concern! Why do you wish to know these things? Why do they matter to you?!"
That same smile graces his face, and he turns his back to me, his voice a sensuous whisper, "I have told you, my little bird. I cannot wait for the day I possess you completely; all of you, mind, body, spirit. I will delve into this darkness that inhabits your soul before you leave me; I will gain pleasure from you in many ways. You will hold no secrets from me..."
A shiver runs down my spine, and I cannot stop the slight quiver in my words, "No. My secrets are my own; you cannot take them from me. No one can. Anything you wish to know... you shall have to figure out on your own."
"Then, that shall be the first great game between us. However, perhaps it is best for us now to return home. After we dispense with these parcels, I can show you where you will begin working."
This abrupt change in attitude and conversation relieves me, although I know I should be probably be alarmed instead; work is a topic I can cover with ease. Quickening my pace to match his, I make sure we are side by side before speaking, "Am I right in assuming that you wish for me to create a body that will use the head of your dead brother instead of an artificial one?"
"You are indeed. I had hoped that the cloning technology created by my late mentor would help me to create a perfect clone of Saki; alas, he worried more about creating various parts of the human body instead of a whole one. And of course, I had not the time to discover anything particularly useful from my beloved Tsuzuki; he stabbed me before I could experiment too much upon him."
With that, I let the matter drop, subsiding into silence. He unnerves me more with each statement he makes, but I refuse to show it. I will not become weak now; I must complete this job! I must remember why it is that I am working for this man, this man who I have always considered to be an enemy.
When we return to the mansion, I place the bags in the room he indicates to me, then follow him to the back of the house, as he speaks, "After the last encounter with you and your fellow shinigami, I barely managed to save Saki. I did not have any other place to put him really, so I converted the part of the mansion my grandfather had made into a hospital into a laboratory in order to hold him. It should have everything you require; if not, simply tell me and I shall arrange for it to be brought to you."
When we reach the place he mentions, my mouth drops slightly. This place is a scientist's dream! Everywhere I look I can see computers of the highest caliber and quality, stocks of chemicals and supplies for any experiment you could wish to do. Tatsumi would never allow me to have a lab like this, never in a million years, and I do not think I would blame him. He would not allow it for the cost; I would not allow it because I would be afraid I would never step out again.
I feel like the proverbial kid in a candy store, but I cannot stop myself from wandering about, stroking some of the instruments gently with two fingers. Muraki's footsteps make a distinct sound as he follows me, "You seem pleased, Watari."
I hesitate, but see no harm in speaking my mind, "I am not only pleased but impressed; this is certainly one of the finest labs I have ever been in. And, I have seen many, many labs in my time."
"Oh?"
Nodding, I peer into one of the drawers, which turns out to be full of drawing supplies. I take out a pencil, fidgeting with it slightly, "Well, whenever I was alive, I used to work freelance. You know how it is; every company has different standards for their labs. I remember whenever Akira used to-"
I stop myself in mid-sentence, even though I hear Muraki's purr, "Yes? You were saying, Watari?"
I shake my head, giving a false laugh as I replace the pencil, "N-nothing important..." I give a slight curse. What is WRONG with me?! I have never revealed this much of my past life to anyone; why would I do so to him? This lab setting... I must have forgotten myself. It feels so much like home...
I notice a large set of doors in the very back of the lab, and I walk over to them, "Where do these lead?"
Staying close to me, almost uncomfortably close, he murmurs, "I do not suppose that you would believe that I do not wish for you to go in there, and that if you do, you will find the decomposing bodies of many women hanging around on hooks?"
I stiffen, unable to tell if he is joking or not. Finally, I swallow back the knot in my throat to respond, "Well, I never pictured you as much of a Blue Beard killer..."
His chuckle may as well be a caress, "I am not; I find it much easier to simply kill a woman quickly, rather than marry her, put her through the torments of her own curiosity, and then use her as a way to kill other women. I think the whole Blue Beard ideal would be a bit of waste. Some people are not even worth torturing..."
I feel a hand run down the curve of my back, and my throat becomes suddenly dry, but I keep a poker face, "Oh? I suppose you expect me to believe that Tsuzuki and Hisoka are honored then for your interest?"
The wandering hand slides a return journey up my spine, up to caress my neck and tangle in my hair, "They are such fun, but not who I had in mind right at the moment..."
I do not hesitate; in an instant I pull myself away, ignoring the slight protest the roots of my hair give. I try and keep my face expressionless, even though I know I cannot possibly hide my discomfort, and I turn away from him, "I want to see where the door leads."
"Very well then; stand aside."
I do as he commands, allowing him to open the door and beckon me inside, "Saki... I have brought someone to see you..."
I freeze as soon as I enter, my eyes wide. I had been told that Muraki kept his brother's head; I had even seen at a distance that night so long ago, when Hisoka had rescued Tsuzuki. But nothing... nothing had prepared me for the sight up close.
Floating in a fluid, contained in a glass jar, lies the head of Saki. Wires extend from the throat; great metal coils connect it to the sides, keeping it steady. Lifeless, soulless eyes gaze at nothing, and I can feel the bile rising in my throat.
"You have grown pale; are you quite well? You look as if you have seen a ghost..."
I find my voice again, amazed at how weak it sounds, "Is that not what I am looking at? A ghost? This is nothing but a lifeless shell, a mockery of the existence that once flourished within! It stinks of death..."
Muraki's smile deepens, as he takes off his glasses for a moment, "Ah. I have never understood, how a shinigami, a Guardian of Death, can seem so squeamish in the face of it."
My pride flares like a dying candle that is breath upon. Squeamish?! Sneering, I turn on my heel, "It simply too me by surprise, though I suppose it should not have done so. I will not react in such a manner again."
I hear a chuckle, and suddenly there is a strong hand on my shoulder, "Always so brave in the face of danger; always so tough. You intend to never allow me a moment's satisfaction, do you?"
"I will not allow you any feelings of power; that is what you wish of me, is it not?"
Another arm wraps solidly around my waist, and he pulls me close to him, silken lips on my ear, as he gives me his response, "Indeed, and I will have it, my little bird. I am master in this house, and you will come to understand this, like it or not."
I wait a fraction of a second before digging my elbow into his ribs and straining to pull free. I may as well try to escape a grip of steel, and I cannot help but gasp as the hold on my waist tightens, while the other hand strokes the back of my neck.
He practically drags back into the lab, closing the door to the storage section behind him. Then, he stands perfectly still, pulling me against him. The hand on my neck moves to my face, cupping my chin. With a hiss, I attempt to bite at those ivory white fingers, but he pulls them away, "Tsk tsk. What a disobedient pet..."
"I am not a pet! You care nothing for pets; I still remember what you did to 003!"
His laugh is black velvet, "003? The name of your owl companion, I presume? I was right in sensing you cared something for that creature..."
A flare of anger rises within me, as I struggle against the hold, "He may be a lowly creature to you, but he is my friend! I will never forgive you for what you did... I will never forget!"
He releases me for a split second before whirling me around and pressing me against his chest, his face mere centimeters from my own, "I hope not. Though, I do not know what you will do about it. What form of revenge do you have devised, and how will you act it out? A tantalizing puzzle indeed..."
I can feel my eyes widen as he propels me to a patient's cot, forcing me on my back in a matter of instants. I try to sit up, but his hands lock onto my arms, forcing them above my head, and I can see the amusement shining in his smoky gaze, "Why do you look so angry, so frightened? Surely you trust me?"
"TRUST YOU?! HA! I trust you about as much as an ant trusts an anteater!" I put the full force of my anger in those words, no longer caring for the consequences. This is my fault, my own fault for forgetting, even for a millisecond, that this is a dangerous, psychotic man. A part of me knows I deserve whatever happens to me; another part cries out in protest.
With a cryptic smile, he releases me, walking over to the medicine cabinet, "You promised me a blood sample; I think now is as good a time as any to take it..."
I blink, confused by this sudden change of events, "What?"
He returns with a butterfly needle[6], tourniquet, and two empty vials to fill, a single brow raising, "Did I not make myself clear? I wish the blood sample from you to examine, as we agreed."
Taking a few deep breaths, trying to control the rampant tempo of my heart, I growl, "You were toying with me! If you wanted a blood sample, why did you not just say so? Why the show of a few moments past?"
"You are so amusing, my lovely Watari. I told you; I am master here. I can do as I please. Now, lie still like a good boy while I do this, and then you can start on your work."
As he approaches me with the needle, I roll up my sleeve, then lie back, closing my eyes, "Get on with it then."
[1] I have chosen to use the Japanese custom of placing the last name in front of the first. That should be sort of obvious, but notes are always nice. ^-^;
[2] Thanks to my good friend Aqua Drageen for helping me decide what to feed Muraki. She is his fangirl after all and not me. The symbolism behind the lamb's innocence can be blamed for its being eaten, as well as the redness of blood for the sauce. Angel hair pasta should be obvious, ne? I don't know why I felt the need to explain it, but I do.
[3] Okay... I must make a note NOT to do this ever again in the chapter. It becomes a nasty little habit, doesn't it? Anyway, the reason Watari ordered manicotti has no symbolism or anything. It's simply because it's what I like to eat occasionally and I know how to spell it.
[4] Is anyone else getting the urge to have a Watari doll of your very own to dress up? XD
[5] Yes... prepare for the bird analogies. There will be many throughout the story, some clichéd and some of my own. Just a warning. ^o^ GAH! THIS WILL BE THE LAST NOTE! 0
[6] Well, I thought the one above would be the last note. However, I thought I might explain what a butterfly needle is, for those that do not know. It is the smallest needle used for obtaining blood; it is relatively painless. I know this because my mother is a medical technologist and works with them everyday of her life.