Some dood's been downloading chemistry periodicals on my internet account and it got killed. A lame yet real reason for teh delay. This chapter is really sucky since i didn't look over it in detail....Only one more chapter...at least I think so.
Twilight
by calerica
Chapter 5
The sky was colorless, as was the ground, with only a thin line of gray marking the linear horizon. Complete silence entwined itself in the world around him. He took a step forward, testing the ground. A slight crunch met his ears when his shoe pressed down on a soft, stiff material.
An inspection of the ground turned up no tangible explanation. The ground was a mix between snow and plastic—not cold or smooth, just miniscule pieces of unknown fiber. The air around him was crisp, scentless, and absent of all odor.
Hisoka walked on.
Clearly perturbed by the vacant landscape, the shinigami turned around in circles searching an outlet. None was to be found. He did, however, uncover a neat trail of deep red footprints behind him. Startled, Hisoka took another step forward and kept his eyes glued on the indention he left behind. The crater slowly dyed itself red from the center outward.
Green eyes widened at the sight. He took a step sideways. The same process occurred with the new footprint. He jumped as far as he could. Another pair of red prints surfaced. Hisoka wondered at the strange world before him. The pure setting with blood footsteps was oddly reminiscent. He concluded his broken memories were playing tricks with him as they often did.
Looking back at the trail behind him, Hisoka almost felt remorseful that he had ever moved. The white was tainted with red now, no longer a serene, unbroken sea.
"Konnichiwa." A soft-spoken voice approached him—from the left, if his hearing served him correctly.
Hisoka turned to see a child absent of color and dressed in spotless white to match the ground. The child's face was the same one he used to see in the mirror when he was alive. He stared for a moment, unnerved by the child's striking resemblance to himself. Curiously, Hisoka reached out to the monochrome tinted boy with his empathy and received the same feeling of inquisitiveness.
"What's your name?" Hisoka asked, careful not to frighten the boy who looked as if he would bolt any second.
"What is a name? I don't think I have one—whatever it is." The reply was a tangle of mutters, like a child afraid to speak.
Hisoka nodded to himself, sensing that whatever answers he might receive then on from the child weren't going to be very legitimate. Since it was the only way, it was still worth asking, wasn't it?
"Do you know where this place is?"
"I'm not sure," the boy was shivering, "You're the first person I've seen here. Well, except Him. But, It's cold here."
Instinctively, Hisoka reached up to his neck to see if he had a scarf. His fingers brushed against soft wool and tugged at the loose knot. He pulled the fabric off. A sudden chill whispered against his throat, one he hadn't realized existed. He looked down at the garment in his hand. It was the same blood red as his footsteps.
"Here, take my scarf," Hisoka offered.
The boy wrapped his round fingers around one end of the scarf and stared at the wool in amazement. "I've never seen anything in this tone before," he said with awe in his breathy voice. Hisoka took the other end and twisted the fabric around the boy's neck.
"Arigato."
"No need. Do you know why it's so…white around here?"
"It's mostly been this way. I remember when there used to be—what's that word? I think it was color. Then everything started to fade into gray. I really want to see more, but there's never been anything here. It's all empty. Sometime I see Him, I want Him to stay, but no matter how hard I try, the white always covers me up and He never sees me."
Hisoka narrowed his eyes. "Who is He?"
"The man with purple eyes," the boy said matter-of-factly.
Tsuzuki? Suddenly Hisoka felt the hollowness inside.
Hisoka began to understand a little of what was happening then. In every dream he found a piece of himself, and finally, he had found himself in the form of a boy and a world bleached of color. It said a lot about himself that he wasn't able to come to terms with yet.
Behind the cocoon of white, he saw a bit of color. The sun was rising, slowly staining the sky a sudden gray. The boy took no notice, as if he couldn't sense the gradation.
"It's Him." The boy's tone was unexcited as if the event were ordinary on a day-to-day basis.
Immediately Hisoka looked up to see Tsuzuki who was staring directly at him also. The surprise was equal in both shinigami, but it was Tsuzuki who spoke first. "What are you doing here?"
"I don't know; this has been so crazy. You're probably not even real."
Tsuzuki considered this. It was an answer almost unrelated to the question, but it was Hisoka. Good enough explanation for him. Suddenly, the boy seized his chance and spoke up. "If you can see him, can you see me too?"
"Of course."
A fatal mistake. He should have never spoken.
"Oh," the boy looked down at his feet, feeling slightly faint. "That's good." He smiled, possibly the first time ever—a foreign feeling. Tsuzuki's eyes widened in horror at the mistake he'd made. The expression on his face slacked into a strange mixture of horror and regret.
Hisoka wasn't sure what had just happened, but it seemed the boy was the one falling asleep this time. Gray skin fading into a lighter pastel, the boy sat down upon the snow ground.
"I can't keep my eyes open."
Instinctively, Hisoka put his arms around the boy to keep him upright when he unintentionally fell back.
"I should have never said anything to him. I knew if I did, he'd die, but I didn't pay attention. This shouldn't have happened. I killed another person. How long does the list go on? I really am a monster…"
"Tsuzuki, you're babbling," Hisoka said sharply. He was still trying to understand what just happened.
"I'm sorry, it's just that…I'm such a monster."
The boy opened his eyes and looked up at Hisoka. His formerly colorless eyes were now brilliant green. "I think I remember…my name is Hisoka," he whispered.
Hisoka laid the boy down, the red scarf draped like a stream of blood from his neck. He was still a boy inside. A boy who wanted to see more than he knew—a child who wanted someone to notice him as more than he was.
"Tsuzuki, please don't talk about being a monster. I'm tired of it. Everyday you say the same thing."
The older shinigami looked taken back at the blunt statement. "But it's what I am…"
"I don't know you why you think that, but you're not. I give up because I know you're probably never going to accept that you're just a normal person. So I'm going to say this. I'd rather be a monster than myself…because…a monster knows what it is."
"Are you saying that just to make me feel better?"
Exasperated, Hisoka sighed. "No. I'm not. Just don't go do something stupid, because if you ever left, I think I'd go mad." It was a confession made with much difficulty, and a half done one at that.
On the contrary to what he expected, Tsuzuki replied immediately, "I think I'd go crazy too, because I think I'm going to always want to be with you. You keep me sane. So you can't get rid of me that easily." He knelt down next to the silent form of the boy. "Even though I did a selfish thing in locking him away in death, I think he's happy now. But still…"
"Don't think about it anymore."
It was a mutual agreement. The sky was a shade of rose and yet the ground remained white. Something in the air whispered as it flowed by; Hisoka make out the words.
In the washed-out space, amethyst met emerald. Hisoka thought he saw gray seeping into everything, but couldn't understand the still indeterminate colors. Wasn't the world supposed to turn into color?
_ _ _
Nine o'clock. The second hand ticked past twelve indiscreetly. Only fifteen minutes had passed—an eternity to the sleeping Hisoka. Outside the bedroom, Tsuzuki had just begun conversation with Yumiko.
Laughter, breathing of a sleeping baby, the neighbor's raised voice seeped through the walls. In his birdcage, Hisoka thought he heard them. Or they could have figments of his imagination.
He supposed he would never know.
Hisoka pressed his hands against the frozen steel bars encompassing him. The transition from a pure white world to a cage was a mere flash that he couldn't remember. One moment, he saw violet; the next, silver poles grew up over him. Gray concrete in broad daylight stretched as far as his eyes could reach.
With envy, the shinigami watched as various birds flew in and out above him. The chirping was not unlike the memory of him visiting the zoo, different songs—each trying to reach some other creature.
A woodpecker flew by him and he muttered a single word.
"One."
A cardinal flew above his head.
"Two."
A robin swooped down outside.
"Three."
A sparrow idly hopped outside the cage.
"Four."
A hummingbird buzzed by his ear.
"Five."
A pair of mockingbirds danced their ritual flight.
"Six."
A blue bird circled overhead.
"Seven."
A raven screamed and landed before his feet, yellow eyes starting straight up.
"Eight."
The raven stepped closer and Hisoka backed a step. Fluttering in his ears increased as the birds flew faster. Still, the raven stayed in its statue state. The shinigami broke his staring contest at the black bird and look up at the whirl of feathers. Every creature was gliding through the air as if time had sped up and they were in a hurry to reach home.
Hisoka look back down at the spot where the raven stood piercing him with its gaze. The bird didn't even spare a glance as it swiftly flew up to join its comrades in the thin air with an earsplitting scream. He let his eyes follow the bird as it spiraled into the gray sky above.
A cage of inimitable dreams suddenly seemed something Tsuzuki would be interested in hearing about. He was tired of keeping whatever thoughts and revelations he came upon to himself. Hisoka looked at the sky closely as if it was the color in a disinterested world. In that moment, there was nothing more that he wanted than to be able to fly—fly into the sky.
He silently gave up all of his doubt.
The ground beneath his feet drained away. Oddly enough, Hisoka couldn't come to terms with what he was really doing. It seemed like flying away from something he should face, but at the same time, it felt like sinking. He let himself close his eyes against the birds zipping through the air. It didn't matter anymore. This was the last hallucination he was going to go through, Hisoka determined.
Splitting of glass met his ears as he felt his arms transform into a pair of broken wings.
Hisoka felt solid ground below his feet once again and glanced down to see the scars on his arms burning brilliant red. The fragile wings were no more. Whatever silvery thoughts he had were driven away when the crying began. First it was soft tears, and then it escalated into sobs that racked the tiny body.
He forced his eyes to look at the red haired girl sitting a grass field. The sky glowed an eerie washed out imitation of a sunrise. Instantly he knew this was not a regular dream—just two people from a reality that that had pushed them out. Hisoka knelt down to the child's eye level.
"Why are you crying?" he tried hard to keep the unpleasant tone from his voice. It still sounded terribly frozen.
The girl wiped at her eyes in a clumsy way, her shirtsleeve already contained darkened streaks of wetness. "You broke the dream. Now you're going take her away." The accusation was dragged out with hiccups interrupting every other word.
Hisoka glared, already feeling defensive. "We'll see about that. How about you tell me how you made those dreams."
"I put you in a loop thing." The hiccups grew worse.
He narrowed his eyes. "But you're a kid. How can you know all those things about me? How can a kid like you make up all that?"
Long sighs of the grass in wind filled the pause. The girl looked down avoiding eye contact. She peered up and whispered in a pleading whisper, "I didn't. You did."
The simple words were a rude awakening.
"Why?" The single syllable was dragged out.
"Why not?" came the small, defiant answer. Children were really stupid. Really. Hisoka frowned in disdain. "You won't take her away will you?" The timid words mixed with the ground.
The shinigami felt so tired. He wanted out. It seemed pointless to explain to a child her mother was always meant to die. The field progressively darkened from green grass to dim jade—he had mistaken a sunset for a sunrise. Explaining his metaphor of twilight, which sounded ridiculous, was simply dumb.
Distraught filled the girl when Hisoka didn't reply. "Please let her stay. I'm begging you, Kurosaki-san."
Hisoka heaved a frustrated sigh and sat down beside the girl. "Let me tell you a story," he began, "There once was a boy who lived in a place very far away. Everything was always changing around him like no one cared."
The girl looked up at the unwilling story-teller. "Is this true or are you making it up?"
"Just listen," he demanded, patience running out. "He would watch the sunset everyday and think to himself. You see, the sun always set at twilight no matter what so it was a relief from everything that kept changing. This boy decided that one day he was going to go into the earth just like the sun because he was tired. Once he began to follow the sun, he found he couldn't turn back. Because everything that follows the sun can't pull away."
Hisoka hoped the girl understood his point.
Her brown eyes were opened wide, a sign she was really paying attention. "So what happened next?"
The story must have been too vague. Unfortunate really.
"Nothing happened. That's the end."
"Well that's a dumb story, to not have an end."
Hisoka glared at the girl who leaned the other way defensively. "You don't get it do you? Following the sun means dying. Your mother is going to die and there is nothing anyone in the world can do about it. She is following the sun into the earth and being buried. I'm just here to make sure she gets there. Why can't you just accept that? What you're doing is pointless. It's making me frustrated and not getting you anywhere!" He stopped when he realized he was shouting.
Tears welled up again in the child's eyes from fear and hurt. Her head bent down and the red hair hid her face.
"Are you going to let me out now?"
The girls nodded slowly while sniffing.
"Why?" he had to ask again, "I thought you wanted to keep your mother."
He hadn't noticed but the sky was a light purple and the sun was almost below the black horizon. Shadows settled onto the field discretely in patches. The girl hugged herself against the coming chill.
"If she goes down with the sun…" the child paused to sniff away her tears, "then she must come up with the same sun next morning."
Hisoka felt himself slip away, just as the sun dipped below.
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No lame prompt to review here. Get lost.