A/N: Hello! Look! I updated on time! Isn't that great? Don't get too exited, it doesn't mean I'll get to update once a week every week, but at least this time I could. That's good, ne?
Enjoy!!
A SMILE UPON MY FACE
This time he recognised the Sakura forest. He wasn't sure if he did because of his previous dreams or because the memory of it was starting to break free, though.
It was still comforting; the trees were soothing him and making him feel safe, but the threat remained at the back of his brain and he couldn't shake it off. Knowing that he probably didn't have much time- as it had happened before that the dream would dissolve before he got the answers he needed- he looked around for that person; the one waiting for him.
His breath caught on his throat when, at a distance, he discerned another tree, as old and big as the first one he'd seen, but not nearly as beautiful or comforting. The petals were an angry pink that boarded on red and the sky above it was as crimson as the blood it seemed to conjure. For what seemed miles to an end, nothing alive grew around it.
He knew it too; just as he'd recognised that person from his memories, this tree was also not a stranger to him, but it was not a memory he wanted to surface, that much he knew. Was it his past, though, or his future?
Desperate to drive that foreboding image from his view, he turned around and saw, as if he hadn't looked that way before, that other tree; what was more important, that one person standing under it, waiting. Both trees, both opposites, were pulling at him, he realised. But the beautiful, comforting one, the person he loved so much and so irrationally, certainly had an advantage.
He'd all but started walking towards the tree- towards him- when a hand, as pale as the moon should have been- instead of that angry red- seized his arm to stop him.
'Are you sure you wanna go that way?' A familiar voice asked. He turned to look at this person but, again, he couldn't make out the face and the memory of the voice eluded him. 'If you go there, then where should I go?'
'I can't keep him waiting,' he answered simply.
The hand didn't loosen its grip. The wind started to blow, harder with each passing second as a messenger of danger. In spite himself, Hisoka turned to look at the first tree and saw its roots spreading towards where they stood. More like roots, they looked like rivers of blood, consuming the eternal beauty that was the forest, killing mercilessly all they touched.
'I don't have anywhere else to go. It's calling me, you have to come with me.' There was sadness in the stranger's voice, making Hisoka feel sorry for this lost soul, but he would not join him in his perdition.
He shook his arm free, but hesitated before starting to run.
'You could escape too. You could come with me!' He found himself yelling the last bit, as the wind picked up and hissed in his ears.
The figure didn't move; he just stared at the angry red moon in mourning, and Hisoka couldn't wait anymore to get out of the tree's reach.
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"Shi...Shinigami?" Tsuzuki stared at the people before him with a mixture of disbelief and fright. He laughed nervously. "You're joking, right?"
Midori and his mysterious friend had led him from the stairs to the nearest office- the History department's office, if Tsuzuki's memory wasn't failing him- closed the doors and drew the blinds, so they could have an illusion of privacy and safety.
The whole ordeal was just surreal. First he starts hearing voices and now the school nurse tells him he and his girl friend are some kind of grim reapers? Surreal... and insane. No; they had to be kidding.
"No, Tsuzuki-chan." the older man started, "I'm telling you the truth. I think you know; somewhere deep inside you, you know I'm telling the truth."
'Like hell I know!' he thought, but couldn't say it out loud. Midori-san didn't seem to be joking. He also didn't seem to be enjoying having to... 'confess' what he was. Did that mean what they were saying was real? Hardly; they could have just been great actors, like those people who pretend injuries to get money from big stores. God knows what they could have been up to. And yet...
Could it be true?
"How is it possible?!" he all but cried. An idea struck him and he gasped in terror. "Am I dead?! When did I die? Shouldn't I remember dying? Oh, boy, oh, boy. How long have I been dead? What am I going to tell Tatsumi? Was it my fault? Because if it was my fault I died, then Tatsumi's going to kill me!..."
Gentle hands rested on his shoulders, pulling him out of his self-induced hysteria.
"Tsuzuki-chan," Midori's voice cooed while his eyes bored into his own, quieting him down with their intensity and kindness. "You're not dead. You won't be for a long time."
"I'm not?" he asked, hopeful. Midori shook his head no, a smile playing at his lips. "Oh!" Tsuzuki laughed sheepishly, though he was still very much confused. "Oh, that's good to hear! But then..." he frowned, "I don't understand. Why are you here? Why are you talking to me, telling me this?"
Midori sighed sadly, while the girl watched them both with an expression half amused, half alarmed.
"I'm only telling you because of what you witnessed, and the fact that you can see Aome here." He motioned to the girl, who bowed gracefully and gave him a bright smile, making him blush. Well, he just wasn't used to pretty girls... Ok, make that, any girls, who could blame him? "As to why we're here," the older man continued. "I'm not sure I should tell you."
The storm hadn't calmed one bit and the emptiness of the school made Tsuzuki all the more nervous. He stared at Midori, trying to decide on whether he should insist to know what was going on or remain ignorant. It was obvious to him that whatever it was, he wouldn't like to hear about it. But he was also curious and, as it always happened, curiosity won in the end.
"I think I should know." he said, determination in his voice. "Whoever was talking to me back there didn't seem very nice and I would feel better knowing what the hell is it that he wants, ne? Assuming he's the reason you're here?"
"He is," Midori nodded reluctantly. "Do you have any idea of what he is?"
"A mean bastard?" Tsuzuki provided, hopefully.
The girl, Aome, snorted and then cleared her throat. Midori gave him an amused smile.
"I guess he is!" he cheered, but his face soon sobered. "What do you know about your ability to see things that you shouldn't? Has it ever happened to you before?"
Tsuzuki looked down. He was not about to confess his deepest, darkest secret to someone he hadn't yet decided to think of as a lunatic or not. But there was no use in lying either. At least he deemed the situation grave enough to be honest.
"No, it's... not the first time." he all but whispered.
"What was it that you saw that first time? Does it happen often?"
"Ah..." Tsuzuki shifted uncomfortably on his seat on top of the desk. "Just once... it was... it was a demon. But don't laugh!" he said defensively. "It really was a demon!!"
Why should he feel defensive in telling that to someone who claimed to be dead, he didn't know.
"I'm not laughing, am I? I believe you." Midori said gently. "This time... well, it's also a demon. What you heard back there... we're hunting him. He's the one who's been murdering those kids."
"Oh..." was all he could say. The words he'd heard from the supposed demon a moment before now held a completely different meaning. Well, actually, now he could begin to understand them; though he wished it wasn't so.
He'd told him to watch out for those he loved. His first thoughts went to Tatsumi and Hisoka, his concern about their safety was now definitively justified.
Oh, how he wanted to hear that his meeting with the demon had meant nothing! He'd chopped his right arm to know that the monster had only been teasing him! He gathered all his courage to ask the next question. "What... what does he want with me? Is it... it's because of what I am, isn't it?"
"Tsuzuki,..." Midori shook his head; the look of frustration on the guy's face was puzzling to him, but then again, what wasn't at that point? The older man seized Tsuzuki by his shoulders, gazing directly into his eyes with a stern look. "There's nothing about you... You are a normal- if peculiar- 'human' being. Is that clear?"
Tsuzuki took notice of the drop of the honorific, as well as the fact that the other man seemed to know 'precisely' what he'd meant with his question; as if he'd know it was a fear of his before he'd mentioned it. It wasn't the first time Midori-san showed signs of familiarity like that, and it unsettled him, for some reason.
"But..." Tsuzuki fumbled with his sleeve, unable to hold the other man's stare. "He said that... he..."
"What did he say to you, precisely?"
"He said..." Tsuzuki drew in a shaky breath. "...He said he'd been waiting to see me. That I'm famous amongst... his kind, or our kind... I don't know." He choked the last bit out, looking down.
"Ah, no; that's... he meant..." Midori seemed a bit lost himself, as if he were deliberating on something serious. Tsuzuki waited, hoping the other man would prove his fears unfounded. Even the girl seemed to be gazing at the two of them expectantly; all she needed was a bowl of popcorn and she'd looked like watching a romance film. Finally, Midori cleared his throat and smiled a smile that told Tsuzuki immediately he was about to lie. The guilty tone the man used all but confirmed it. "He confused you with someone else, most likely. You have nothing to do with the likes of him."
The lie was enough to certify that his suspicions had been real, but Tsuzuki couldn't bring himself to let the other man know that. He seemed really concerned about him and letting him know his plan had backfired would only make him feel bad. So he nodded, trying to hide the hurt from his face.
He remembered something then- not that he'd forgotten, he'd just distracted his mind from it- and thought it would be a good idea to warn the shinigami about it, since now he knew the demon had been serious.
"Midori-san,..." he begun.
"Call me Hijiri." The man interrupted, with an affectionate gesture. "That's my real name."
Tsuzuki blushed a little and nodded. The name suited the supposed nurse a lot better; it fitted him, somehow.
"Hi... Hijiri, he also said to watch for the ones I love. Do you think he'll hurt my friends?"
Aome stepped in, a worried expression on her face.
"Jii-san... In my visions..." she stopped, hesitating. Midori..., Hijiri turned to her. His eyes widened for a moment and then he nodded in understanding, taking Tsuzuki's hand in his and pulling him down the desk.
"C'mon, lets go find your friends, ne? Make sure they're alright?"
He nodded and followed the older man and the girl out of the office. He noticed Hijiri hadn't let go of his hand, he was actually gripping it rather tightly.
"So, lemme get this straight," Tsuzuki mumbled as he walked/ran to keep up with Hijiri's pace, trying to make sense of the last few minutes in his head, as well as to drive away the fear that the situation was causing him to feel. "You're gods of death...which means you're both dead, there's a demon in our school who wants me and my friends dead because he thinks I'm someone else, she has visions and I shouldn't be able to see you?"
Insane.
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His dreams weren't pleasant, he could remember as much, but somewhere between his nightmares and his groaning in protest at the hands that shook him, any other memory of them disappeared.
Everything after that was a blur, until Watari found himself limping badly through the halls with a snoring 003 on his shoulder and a girl he couldn't quite place by his side. So fogged with sleep his mind was, that he couldn't remember having slept at all. He turned to look at his companion, rubbing one eye automatically to wake himself up.
The girl beside him was wearing a uniform, he noted. It did cost him some mental strain, but he finally decided she was from the cafeteria. Of course, that fact didn't throw any light whatsoever to his pending dilemma. In any case, it was more confusing.
On top of things, she looked frightened and jittery and, in the state he was in, she looked to be walking and moving a thousand miles per hour, making his head spin.
"Huh..." he mumbled, his voice raspy. "What are we doing again?" he asked sheepishly.
She turned to him, never stopping her frantic pace, and regarded him with big, shimmery eyes.
"Tatsumi-kun needs your help! We can't find the nurse anywhere and he thought you'd know what to do!"
Watari's breath caught on his throat. The only words he'd registered coherently were 'Tatsumi'-'Help'-'Nurse' and that was more than enough to have him speeding up his pace, limp and all, even faster than the woman.
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Oriya hesitated in front of the church's gates. After a moment of consideration, he unsheathed his sword. It was better to be safe, than sorry.
He wasn't sure why he'd thought of that place. He could have very well searched all around the school- which was quite big even if you didn't count the park and the gyms- before ending up at the chapel. But his intuition had given him the idea and he knew he had to search there before he ventured anywhere else. The fact that he saw light coming from the windows as soon as he stepped out on the garden only supported this theory.
Now he was there, soaked to the bone and shivering from a little more than just the cold. This was it, he realised; he was about to confront his best friend the way he'd never had before. There was excitement, curiosity, but above all dread. Dread at it being a mistake; what if he ended up pushing Muraki further away?
He drove all the doubts from his mind and took a deep breath, pushing the heavy oak doors firmly. The sight that met him left him transfixed. Even before entering, the warmth of the candle light fell on his skin. It was warm in there, in contrast to his freezing skin, and Oriya shuddered.
Dripping water like a soaked rag, he tried his best to keep quiet as he stepped in, though he figured it wouldn't make much of a difference, since he was a walking target. There was something about the air that assured him of the danger and yet he kept on walking.
He didn't notice at first, the bundle at the foot of the altar, but then again, he was too focused on his immediate surroundings to notice anything immobile. When he did see it, he gasped. Slow, carefully calculated steps carried him to where the 'body' lay. He tried to study it with his eyes, tried to pick up any sing of breathing so that he'd know he hadn't been too late.
The fact registered in his mind, that the boy was still dressed- if only half dressed and dishevelled- so, whatever Muraki had done, he hadn't raped him yet. There wasn't any blood around the body, maybe some on the boy's clothes but, one look at his face was enough to guess where it had come from. Muraki hadn't killed him yet, either.
Sighing in relief and just a little bit freaked out about the order his thoughts had taken- how knowing Muraki hadn't raped him yet hadn't assured him he was still alive- Oriya speeded up his pace, finally kneeling next to the battered figure.
His hands went immediately at the binds; the position the boy- what was his name again?- was in was most unnatural and, seeing the state he was in, he knew it couldn't have been good for him. Something was off.
Muraki might have been a psycho, but he'd never been one to give in to brute force. The only reason Oriya had accepted Muraki as the killer had been the vicious, meticulous quality of them. In their brutality, they'd been carefully thought out. Or at least that's how he saw it.
But this boy had been beaten down to a pulp. That was completely out of character for his friend and, though he knew there was no chance of it being the work of someone else, it made him wonder just how far gone he was as to do something like that.
When he finished with the ropes, he turned the boy onto his back. His shirt was open, so Oriya could see now that the damage hadn't been reserved to his face. He'd need to get the boy out of there, but he couldn't take him to the infirmary. Maybe he could take him to his room, tend to his wounds and wait until he awoke. That way he could find out what he remembered and he'd think of a way to get Muraki off the hook and save the boy at the same time.
He really didn't notice his own foolishness, as he'd dropped his sword by his side to tend to the boy- Hisoka, that was it! He didn't have time to react; he heard the faint sound of steel against stone and, when he turned, the sword was gone.
Gasping, he turned around to find Muraki standing right behind him. 'So much for my reflexes!' he thought. The white haired boy was holding the blade in front of his face, tracing the edge with one finger almost sensually. This was very, very wrong.
"Have you come here to kill me?" Muraki asked. His voice, Oriya noted, did not sound amused, or detached; he sounded tired. His eyes were red and puffy and his whole demeanour was of someone who'd given up.
"No." Oriya answered, not a bit of hesitation in his tone. "I've come here to knock some sense into you. You are in desperate need of some."
The white haired boy chuckled at this, dryly and humourlessly, and swung the sword over his shoulder.
"You think so?" he asked, sarcastically. He then leaned a little closer, gazing into his eyes threateningly. "Have you come here to save my soul, then? Because if that's the case, it's useless. There's no soul to save."
Oriya swallowed hard, putting all his efforts in stopping himself from backing away, even when he wanted to run.
"I'll be the judge of that."
"Oh!" Muraki flung his free hand into the air. "Wouldn't that be a great way to live?! If you were to judge me; if it was up to you!" Oriya tried to step away from him, to put some safe distance between them, but Muraki wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him against him in a mocking embrace. "You'd forgive anything, wouldn't you? You, even now, still care about me."
The white haired boy pushed him violently away; Oriya landed on his hands and knees next to the unconscious boy, wincing both from the surprise and Muraki's words.
"Yes," he spat finally, without turning to look at his deranged friend. "I still love you, isn't that pathetic? And I just can't let you destroy yourself."
"Isn't it a bit late for that?" There was a distinct bitterness in Muraki's tone, one that Oriya took as an opportunity to get through to him.
"It's not too late!" he pleaded, a little too passionately. "He's still alive and God knows what he remembers. Let him go, Muraki. I can help you."
"I told you," the other boy hissed, "I don't want, or need, your fucking help!"
"Kazutaka..." Oriya was at a loss. It was way too much responsibility to hold the salvation of someone's soul in his hands. Someone he loved as deeply as he loved Muraki, on top of things. What were the right words? Was his own soul at stake here? "Ok." he nodded to himself, standing and, without any show of fear at his friend, he stepped forward. "So, you have to choose, ne? Right here, right now, you have to make a choice. I know you, at least, consider me your friend. I go, taking Hisoka with me, and you can come with me, if you want, and I'll seek the best of helps for you. You could have a normal life. I'll be there for you, every step of the way, in any way you want me to. If, on the other hand, you insist on this stupid attitude of yours, you'll never see me again. I'll change schools, I'll disappear. And if they ask me anything, I won't hesitate to turn you in."
Muraki had listened intently, a baffled look on his face. Of course, he wasn't used to Oriya standing up for himself, at least not to him. Would he call his bluff? It was, after all, a bluff; wasn't it? Would he be able to carry on with his own threat if Muraki chose the second option? He didn't know. Maybe, for once, he should. Maybe it would be for the best.
Eventually, after a long moment of nerve wracking silence, Muraki shook himself from his daze and spoke, smiling sardonically.
"There's a third option you forgot to mention." Oriya didn't answer, fearing his friend's next words. "I can kill you both on the spot. Him for being a little bitch, you for trying to blackmail me, and I can do what I please." Oriya's eyes were too slow and, before he knew what had happened, he had the blade of the sword pressed dangerously against his neck. Muraki was inches away from his face, his gaze hard and emotionless. "Don't underestimate me. I'm not what you think I am."
'Obviously', Oriya thought bitterly, as tears started to form in his eyes. He felt him die; Muraki, to him, died at that moment. And it hurt as if it had been a real death, instead of a proverbial one. He tried to move away, to get away from that place and forget he ever knew the kind, warm hearted boy that used to live in the body before him, but Muraki gripped his arm. At least he hadn't used the sword to stop him, Oriya thought in mild relief.
"What? I'm leaving, isn't that what you want?!" he cried, kicking himself for sounding so emotional.
"You're not going anywhere." Muraki answered impassively but nonetheless released him. "You're both staying here." Oriya nodded dryly. One glance at Hisoka and he started walking towards the back of the chapel. "Didn't you hear me?!" Muraki barked.
"Yes, I heard you. I am still going to find something to clean the boy up. You can try to stop me, if you want."
Oriya didn't even turn to look at him. He just kept his pace firm, dreading the hit of a sword that never came. He'd placed himself in between Muraki and his victim, turning himself into one. There was no doubt in his mind that Muraki would kill them both soon; but, apparently, he wouldn't do it just yet. At least he could make Hisoka comfortable until the moment came.
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The demon slammed the bed against the ceiling in anger, it falling hard on the floor a moment later, indenting it. He was angry.
Everything had been going so well! But now he was short of a pet, the shinigamis had Sagatanatsu's killer with them, he couldn't find the white haired kid's aura anywhere and he was running out of time.
He could have gone after Kenji; he wouldn't have been hard to find and it would have solved at least one of his problems. Without Kenji, it was getting harder and harder to keep his host's body under control. The boy had started to fight the possession and it was just a matter of time before he either saw himself forced to comply or the body collapsed.
But all he needed were a few more hours. Just finding Sagatanatsu's killer and taking him down would have been alright, if his pride hadn't made him choose a much more elaborate plan. He wanted him to suffer and, for that, he needed Muraki's intervention.
Well, to be earnest, he hadn't needed it before. He could have done the job himself. He'd just thought that if he, in the process of destroying Tsuzuki, managed to awaken an evil force as Muraki's could be, there would be no doubt about his promotion.
The characteristics of the case- the players involved- seemed to have been his undoing. So many legends in one place, so many possibilities! There were still a few hours before dawn, before his time ran out and the body he was occupying lost its utility. And he sure as hell would use those hours to his advantage.
°°Tsuzuku°°
Reviews!! 222 is a spiffy number. (I love that word, spiffy, heh heh)
LYK: Ah! Now that Lina is so busy, you are the one to review first!! . Now it does make more sense, doesn't it? I mean... Well, it wouldn't have worked to place that at the beginning, one had some suspense to build and stuff. Adultfanfiction.net I know... The only thing I don't like about that site is that by adult, they only mean X rated stuff. You wouldn't believe the crap I've read there. Well, I've read lots of crap here too, I guess it can't be helped. Was this fast enough? Huggles dear.
not so innocent bystander: Again, yes, now it makes sense, lol. Yes, it's the last... I thought about writing one about Hijiri, but I guess I'll leave that to the epilogue or something. Probably. Anyway, hugs!!
Kara Angitia: hands kleenex I'm sorry!! It'll all be well soon enough though, no worries!! You thought it was sweet? .
chibisanzo: hugs chibisanzo What will people think of me, making everyone cry? Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing. Thanks a bunch!!!
Schatten Wonderwolf: Hola de nuevo! Así que vos sos una de esas que viaja en colectivo (ómnibus .) con esas maquetas enormes? Cool. Es difícil leer un fic con parejas que no te gustan? Se debe volver pesado. Pero que bueno que te gusto! Molestarme... el correo?! Estas loca!?!? Me encanto!!! n.n Y gracias por la felicitación. Cuando me di cuenta que ya llevo seis meses, casi me da un infarto. Igual todos los que han estado leyendo desde el principio, no es increíble? Realmente este fic se volvió monumental!! Debe ser mas largo que un libro! Te veo en 'The 'g'...' Hugs. ps. Gracias por la galletita!!
dodger-chan: Uhm... did you read the previous chapter? I'm sorry it was so short...interlude thingies are short!! But, see? I updated fast, didn't I? Wow on your devotion, twelve miles just to read? Wah? n.n Hugs!!
Kyraille Fade: Awww hugs Kyraille Stupid demerits, stupid tests. Maybe this adds a ...how do you call it... a blimp to your day? I'm glad you found the interlude to your liking. It was soooooo hard to write!! I really don't know why, though scratches head Anyway, hugs and good luck with those exams!!
Also a hug to Aida. May you find what you were looking for and I hope you still enjoy this fic. :D
Ja Ne!
Enjoy!!
A SMILE UPON MY FACE
This time he recognised the Sakura forest. He wasn't sure if he did because of his previous dreams or because the memory of it was starting to break free, though.
It was still comforting; the trees were soothing him and making him feel safe, but the threat remained at the back of his brain and he couldn't shake it off. Knowing that he probably didn't have much time- as it had happened before that the dream would dissolve before he got the answers he needed- he looked around for that person; the one waiting for him.
His breath caught on his throat when, at a distance, he discerned another tree, as old and big as the first one he'd seen, but not nearly as beautiful or comforting. The petals were an angry pink that boarded on red and the sky above it was as crimson as the blood it seemed to conjure. For what seemed miles to an end, nothing alive grew around it.
He knew it too; just as he'd recognised that person from his memories, this tree was also not a stranger to him, but it was not a memory he wanted to surface, that much he knew. Was it his past, though, or his future?
Desperate to drive that foreboding image from his view, he turned around and saw, as if he hadn't looked that way before, that other tree; what was more important, that one person standing under it, waiting. Both trees, both opposites, were pulling at him, he realised. But the beautiful, comforting one, the person he loved so much and so irrationally, certainly had an advantage.
He'd all but started walking towards the tree- towards him- when a hand, as pale as the moon should have been- instead of that angry red- seized his arm to stop him.
'Are you sure you wanna go that way?' A familiar voice asked. He turned to look at this person but, again, he couldn't make out the face and the memory of the voice eluded him. 'If you go there, then where should I go?'
'I can't keep him waiting,' he answered simply.
The hand didn't loosen its grip. The wind started to blow, harder with each passing second as a messenger of danger. In spite himself, Hisoka turned to look at the first tree and saw its roots spreading towards where they stood. More like roots, they looked like rivers of blood, consuming the eternal beauty that was the forest, killing mercilessly all they touched.
'I don't have anywhere else to go. It's calling me, you have to come with me.' There was sadness in the stranger's voice, making Hisoka feel sorry for this lost soul, but he would not join him in his perdition.
He shook his arm free, but hesitated before starting to run.
'You could escape too. You could come with me!' He found himself yelling the last bit, as the wind picked up and hissed in his ears.
The figure didn't move; he just stared at the angry red moon in mourning, and Hisoka couldn't wait anymore to get out of the tree's reach.
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"Shi...Shinigami?" Tsuzuki stared at the people before him with a mixture of disbelief and fright. He laughed nervously. "You're joking, right?"
Midori and his mysterious friend had led him from the stairs to the nearest office- the History department's office, if Tsuzuki's memory wasn't failing him- closed the doors and drew the blinds, so they could have an illusion of privacy and safety.
The whole ordeal was just surreal. First he starts hearing voices and now the school nurse tells him he and his girl friend are some kind of grim reapers? Surreal... and insane. No; they had to be kidding.
"No, Tsuzuki-chan." the older man started, "I'm telling you the truth. I think you know; somewhere deep inside you, you know I'm telling the truth."
'Like hell I know!' he thought, but couldn't say it out loud. Midori-san didn't seem to be joking. He also didn't seem to be enjoying having to... 'confess' what he was. Did that mean what they were saying was real? Hardly; they could have just been great actors, like those people who pretend injuries to get money from big stores. God knows what they could have been up to. And yet...
Could it be true?
"How is it possible?!" he all but cried. An idea struck him and he gasped in terror. "Am I dead?! When did I die? Shouldn't I remember dying? Oh, boy, oh, boy. How long have I been dead? What am I going to tell Tatsumi? Was it my fault? Because if it was my fault I died, then Tatsumi's going to kill me!..."
Gentle hands rested on his shoulders, pulling him out of his self-induced hysteria.
"Tsuzuki-chan," Midori's voice cooed while his eyes bored into his own, quieting him down with their intensity and kindness. "You're not dead. You won't be for a long time."
"I'm not?" he asked, hopeful. Midori shook his head no, a smile playing at his lips. "Oh!" Tsuzuki laughed sheepishly, though he was still very much confused. "Oh, that's good to hear! But then..." he frowned, "I don't understand. Why are you here? Why are you talking to me, telling me this?"
Midori sighed sadly, while the girl watched them both with an expression half amused, half alarmed.
"I'm only telling you because of what you witnessed, and the fact that you can see Aome here." He motioned to the girl, who bowed gracefully and gave him a bright smile, making him blush. Well, he just wasn't used to pretty girls... Ok, make that, any girls, who could blame him? "As to why we're here," the older man continued. "I'm not sure I should tell you."
The storm hadn't calmed one bit and the emptiness of the school made Tsuzuki all the more nervous. He stared at Midori, trying to decide on whether he should insist to know what was going on or remain ignorant. It was obvious to him that whatever it was, he wouldn't like to hear about it. But he was also curious and, as it always happened, curiosity won in the end.
"I think I should know." he said, determination in his voice. "Whoever was talking to me back there didn't seem very nice and I would feel better knowing what the hell is it that he wants, ne? Assuming he's the reason you're here?"
"He is," Midori nodded reluctantly. "Do you have any idea of what he is?"
"A mean bastard?" Tsuzuki provided, hopefully.
The girl, Aome, snorted and then cleared her throat. Midori gave him an amused smile.
"I guess he is!" he cheered, but his face soon sobered. "What do you know about your ability to see things that you shouldn't? Has it ever happened to you before?"
Tsuzuki looked down. He was not about to confess his deepest, darkest secret to someone he hadn't yet decided to think of as a lunatic or not. But there was no use in lying either. At least he deemed the situation grave enough to be honest.
"No, it's... not the first time." he all but whispered.
"What was it that you saw that first time? Does it happen often?"
"Ah..." Tsuzuki shifted uncomfortably on his seat on top of the desk. "Just once... it was... it was a demon. But don't laugh!" he said defensively. "It really was a demon!!"
Why should he feel defensive in telling that to someone who claimed to be dead, he didn't know.
"I'm not laughing, am I? I believe you." Midori said gently. "This time... well, it's also a demon. What you heard back there... we're hunting him. He's the one who's been murdering those kids."
"Oh..." was all he could say. The words he'd heard from the supposed demon a moment before now held a completely different meaning. Well, actually, now he could begin to understand them; though he wished it wasn't so.
He'd told him to watch out for those he loved. His first thoughts went to Tatsumi and Hisoka, his concern about their safety was now definitively justified.
Oh, how he wanted to hear that his meeting with the demon had meant nothing! He'd chopped his right arm to know that the monster had only been teasing him! He gathered all his courage to ask the next question. "What... what does he want with me? Is it... it's because of what I am, isn't it?"
"Tsuzuki,..." Midori shook his head; the look of frustration on the guy's face was puzzling to him, but then again, what wasn't at that point? The older man seized Tsuzuki by his shoulders, gazing directly into his eyes with a stern look. "There's nothing about you... You are a normal- if peculiar- 'human' being. Is that clear?"
Tsuzuki took notice of the drop of the honorific, as well as the fact that the other man seemed to know 'precisely' what he'd meant with his question; as if he'd know it was a fear of his before he'd mentioned it. It wasn't the first time Midori-san showed signs of familiarity like that, and it unsettled him, for some reason.
"But..." Tsuzuki fumbled with his sleeve, unable to hold the other man's stare. "He said that... he..."
"What did he say to you, precisely?"
"He said..." Tsuzuki drew in a shaky breath. "...He said he'd been waiting to see me. That I'm famous amongst... his kind, or our kind... I don't know." He choked the last bit out, looking down.
"Ah, no; that's... he meant..." Midori seemed a bit lost himself, as if he were deliberating on something serious. Tsuzuki waited, hoping the other man would prove his fears unfounded. Even the girl seemed to be gazing at the two of them expectantly; all she needed was a bowl of popcorn and she'd looked like watching a romance film. Finally, Midori cleared his throat and smiled a smile that told Tsuzuki immediately he was about to lie. The guilty tone the man used all but confirmed it. "He confused you with someone else, most likely. You have nothing to do with the likes of him."
The lie was enough to certify that his suspicions had been real, but Tsuzuki couldn't bring himself to let the other man know that. He seemed really concerned about him and letting him know his plan had backfired would only make him feel bad. So he nodded, trying to hide the hurt from his face.
He remembered something then- not that he'd forgotten, he'd just distracted his mind from it- and thought it would be a good idea to warn the shinigami about it, since now he knew the demon had been serious.
"Midori-san,..." he begun.
"Call me Hijiri." The man interrupted, with an affectionate gesture. "That's my real name."
Tsuzuki blushed a little and nodded. The name suited the supposed nurse a lot better; it fitted him, somehow.
"Hi... Hijiri, he also said to watch for the ones I love. Do you think he'll hurt my friends?"
Aome stepped in, a worried expression on her face.
"Jii-san... In my visions..." she stopped, hesitating. Midori..., Hijiri turned to her. His eyes widened for a moment and then he nodded in understanding, taking Tsuzuki's hand in his and pulling him down the desk.
"C'mon, lets go find your friends, ne? Make sure they're alright?"
He nodded and followed the older man and the girl out of the office. He noticed Hijiri hadn't let go of his hand, he was actually gripping it rather tightly.
"So, lemme get this straight," Tsuzuki mumbled as he walked/ran to keep up with Hijiri's pace, trying to make sense of the last few minutes in his head, as well as to drive away the fear that the situation was causing him to feel. "You're gods of death...which means you're both dead, there's a demon in our school who wants me and my friends dead because he thinks I'm someone else, she has visions and I shouldn't be able to see you?"
Insane.
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His dreams weren't pleasant, he could remember as much, but somewhere between his nightmares and his groaning in protest at the hands that shook him, any other memory of them disappeared.
Everything after that was a blur, until Watari found himself limping badly through the halls with a snoring 003 on his shoulder and a girl he couldn't quite place by his side. So fogged with sleep his mind was, that he couldn't remember having slept at all. He turned to look at his companion, rubbing one eye automatically to wake himself up.
The girl beside him was wearing a uniform, he noted. It did cost him some mental strain, but he finally decided she was from the cafeteria. Of course, that fact didn't throw any light whatsoever to his pending dilemma. In any case, it was more confusing.
On top of things, she looked frightened and jittery and, in the state he was in, she looked to be walking and moving a thousand miles per hour, making his head spin.
"Huh..." he mumbled, his voice raspy. "What are we doing again?" he asked sheepishly.
She turned to him, never stopping her frantic pace, and regarded him with big, shimmery eyes.
"Tatsumi-kun needs your help! We can't find the nurse anywhere and he thought you'd know what to do!"
Watari's breath caught on his throat. The only words he'd registered coherently were 'Tatsumi'-'Help'-'Nurse' and that was more than enough to have him speeding up his pace, limp and all, even faster than the woman.
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Oriya hesitated in front of the church's gates. After a moment of consideration, he unsheathed his sword. It was better to be safe, than sorry.
He wasn't sure why he'd thought of that place. He could have very well searched all around the school- which was quite big even if you didn't count the park and the gyms- before ending up at the chapel. But his intuition had given him the idea and he knew he had to search there before he ventured anywhere else. The fact that he saw light coming from the windows as soon as he stepped out on the garden only supported this theory.
Now he was there, soaked to the bone and shivering from a little more than just the cold. This was it, he realised; he was about to confront his best friend the way he'd never had before. There was excitement, curiosity, but above all dread. Dread at it being a mistake; what if he ended up pushing Muraki further away?
He drove all the doubts from his mind and took a deep breath, pushing the heavy oak doors firmly. The sight that met him left him transfixed. Even before entering, the warmth of the candle light fell on his skin. It was warm in there, in contrast to his freezing skin, and Oriya shuddered.
Dripping water like a soaked rag, he tried his best to keep quiet as he stepped in, though he figured it wouldn't make much of a difference, since he was a walking target. There was something about the air that assured him of the danger and yet he kept on walking.
He didn't notice at first, the bundle at the foot of the altar, but then again, he was too focused on his immediate surroundings to notice anything immobile. When he did see it, he gasped. Slow, carefully calculated steps carried him to where the 'body' lay. He tried to study it with his eyes, tried to pick up any sing of breathing so that he'd know he hadn't been too late.
The fact registered in his mind, that the boy was still dressed- if only half dressed and dishevelled- so, whatever Muraki had done, he hadn't raped him yet. There wasn't any blood around the body, maybe some on the boy's clothes but, one look at his face was enough to guess where it had come from. Muraki hadn't killed him yet, either.
Sighing in relief and just a little bit freaked out about the order his thoughts had taken- how knowing Muraki hadn't raped him yet hadn't assured him he was still alive- Oriya speeded up his pace, finally kneeling next to the battered figure.
His hands went immediately at the binds; the position the boy- what was his name again?- was in was most unnatural and, seeing the state he was in, he knew it couldn't have been good for him. Something was off.
Muraki might have been a psycho, but he'd never been one to give in to brute force. The only reason Oriya had accepted Muraki as the killer had been the vicious, meticulous quality of them. In their brutality, they'd been carefully thought out. Or at least that's how he saw it.
But this boy had been beaten down to a pulp. That was completely out of character for his friend and, though he knew there was no chance of it being the work of someone else, it made him wonder just how far gone he was as to do something like that.
When he finished with the ropes, he turned the boy onto his back. His shirt was open, so Oriya could see now that the damage hadn't been reserved to his face. He'd need to get the boy out of there, but he couldn't take him to the infirmary. Maybe he could take him to his room, tend to his wounds and wait until he awoke. That way he could find out what he remembered and he'd think of a way to get Muraki off the hook and save the boy at the same time.
He really didn't notice his own foolishness, as he'd dropped his sword by his side to tend to the boy- Hisoka, that was it! He didn't have time to react; he heard the faint sound of steel against stone and, when he turned, the sword was gone.
Gasping, he turned around to find Muraki standing right behind him. 'So much for my reflexes!' he thought. The white haired boy was holding the blade in front of his face, tracing the edge with one finger almost sensually. This was very, very wrong.
"Have you come here to kill me?" Muraki asked. His voice, Oriya noted, did not sound amused, or detached; he sounded tired. His eyes were red and puffy and his whole demeanour was of someone who'd given up.
"No." Oriya answered, not a bit of hesitation in his tone. "I've come here to knock some sense into you. You are in desperate need of some."
The white haired boy chuckled at this, dryly and humourlessly, and swung the sword over his shoulder.
"You think so?" he asked, sarcastically. He then leaned a little closer, gazing into his eyes threateningly. "Have you come here to save my soul, then? Because if that's the case, it's useless. There's no soul to save."
Oriya swallowed hard, putting all his efforts in stopping himself from backing away, even when he wanted to run.
"I'll be the judge of that."
"Oh!" Muraki flung his free hand into the air. "Wouldn't that be a great way to live?! If you were to judge me; if it was up to you!" Oriya tried to step away from him, to put some safe distance between them, but Muraki wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him against him in a mocking embrace. "You'd forgive anything, wouldn't you? You, even now, still care about me."
The white haired boy pushed him violently away; Oriya landed on his hands and knees next to the unconscious boy, wincing both from the surprise and Muraki's words.
"Yes," he spat finally, without turning to look at his deranged friend. "I still love you, isn't that pathetic? And I just can't let you destroy yourself."
"Isn't it a bit late for that?" There was a distinct bitterness in Muraki's tone, one that Oriya took as an opportunity to get through to him.
"It's not too late!" he pleaded, a little too passionately. "He's still alive and God knows what he remembers. Let him go, Muraki. I can help you."
"I told you," the other boy hissed, "I don't want, or need, your fucking help!"
"Kazutaka..." Oriya was at a loss. It was way too much responsibility to hold the salvation of someone's soul in his hands. Someone he loved as deeply as he loved Muraki, on top of things. What were the right words? Was his own soul at stake here? "Ok." he nodded to himself, standing and, without any show of fear at his friend, he stepped forward. "So, you have to choose, ne? Right here, right now, you have to make a choice. I know you, at least, consider me your friend. I go, taking Hisoka with me, and you can come with me, if you want, and I'll seek the best of helps for you. You could have a normal life. I'll be there for you, every step of the way, in any way you want me to. If, on the other hand, you insist on this stupid attitude of yours, you'll never see me again. I'll change schools, I'll disappear. And if they ask me anything, I won't hesitate to turn you in."
Muraki had listened intently, a baffled look on his face. Of course, he wasn't used to Oriya standing up for himself, at least not to him. Would he call his bluff? It was, after all, a bluff; wasn't it? Would he be able to carry on with his own threat if Muraki chose the second option? He didn't know. Maybe, for once, he should. Maybe it would be for the best.
Eventually, after a long moment of nerve wracking silence, Muraki shook himself from his daze and spoke, smiling sardonically.
"There's a third option you forgot to mention." Oriya didn't answer, fearing his friend's next words. "I can kill you both on the spot. Him for being a little bitch, you for trying to blackmail me, and I can do what I please." Oriya's eyes were too slow and, before he knew what had happened, he had the blade of the sword pressed dangerously against his neck. Muraki was inches away from his face, his gaze hard and emotionless. "Don't underestimate me. I'm not what you think I am."
'Obviously', Oriya thought bitterly, as tears started to form in his eyes. He felt him die; Muraki, to him, died at that moment. And it hurt as if it had been a real death, instead of a proverbial one. He tried to move away, to get away from that place and forget he ever knew the kind, warm hearted boy that used to live in the body before him, but Muraki gripped his arm. At least he hadn't used the sword to stop him, Oriya thought in mild relief.
"What? I'm leaving, isn't that what you want?!" he cried, kicking himself for sounding so emotional.
"You're not going anywhere." Muraki answered impassively but nonetheless released him. "You're both staying here." Oriya nodded dryly. One glance at Hisoka and he started walking towards the back of the chapel. "Didn't you hear me?!" Muraki barked.
"Yes, I heard you. I am still going to find something to clean the boy up. You can try to stop me, if you want."
Oriya didn't even turn to look at him. He just kept his pace firm, dreading the hit of a sword that never came. He'd placed himself in between Muraki and his victim, turning himself into one. There was no doubt in his mind that Muraki would kill them both soon; but, apparently, he wouldn't do it just yet. At least he could make Hisoka comfortable until the moment came.
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The demon slammed the bed against the ceiling in anger, it falling hard on the floor a moment later, indenting it. He was angry.
Everything had been going so well! But now he was short of a pet, the shinigamis had Sagatanatsu's killer with them, he couldn't find the white haired kid's aura anywhere and he was running out of time.
He could have gone after Kenji; he wouldn't have been hard to find and it would have solved at least one of his problems. Without Kenji, it was getting harder and harder to keep his host's body under control. The boy had started to fight the possession and it was just a matter of time before he either saw himself forced to comply or the body collapsed.
But all he needed were a few more hours. Just finding Sagatanatsu's killer and taking him down would have been alright, if his pride hadn't made him choose a much more elaborate plan. He wanted him to suffer and, for that, he needed Muraki's intervention.
Well, to be earnest, he hadn't needed it before. He could have done the job himself. He'd just thought that if he, in the process of destroying Tsuzuki, managed to awaken an evil force as Muraki's could be, there would be no doubt about his promotion.
The characteristics of the case- the players involved- seemed to have been his undoing. So many legends in one place, so many possibilities! There were still a few hours before dawn, before his time ran out and the body he was occupying lost its utility. And he sure as hell would use those hours to his advantage.
°°Tsuzuku°°
Reviews!! 222 is a spiffy number. (I love that word, spiffy, heh heh)
LYK: Ah! Now that Lina is so busy, you are the one to review first!! . Now it does make more sense, doesn't it? I mean... Well, it wouldn't have worked to place that at the beginning, one had some suspense to build and stuff. Adultfanfiction.net I know... The only thing I don't like about that site is that by adult, they only mean X rated stuff. You wouldn't believe the crap I've read there. Well, I've read lots of crap here too, I guess it can't be helped. Was this fast enough? Huggles dear.
not so innocent bystander: Again, yes, now it makes sense, lol. Yes, it's the last... I thought about writing one about Hijiri, but I guess I'll leave that to the epilogue or something. Probably. Anyway, hugs!!
Kara Angitia: hands kleenex I'm sorry!! It'll all be well soon enough though, no worries!! You thought it was sweet? .
chibisanzo: hugs chibisanzo What will people think of me, making everyone cry? Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing. Thanks a bunch!!!
Schatten Wonderwolf: Hola de nuevo! Así que vos sos una de esas que viaja en colectivo (ómnibus .) con esas maquetas enormes? Cool. Es difícil leer un fic con parejas que no te gustan? Se debe volver pesado. Pero que bueno que te gusto! Molestarme... el correo?! Estas loca!?!? Me encanto!!! n.n Y gracias por la felicitación. Cuando me di cuenta que ya llevo seis meses, casi me da un infarto. Igual todos los que han estado leyendo desde el principio, no es increíble? Realmente este fic se volvió monumental!! Debe ser mas largo que un libro! Te veo en 'The 'g'...' Hugs. ps. Gracias por la galletita!!
dodger-chan: Uhm... did you read the previous chapter? I'm sorry it was so short...interlude thingies are short!! But, see? I updated fast, didn't I? Wow on your devotion, twelve miles just to read? Wah? n.n Hugs!!
Kyraille Fade: Awww hugs Kyraille Stupid demerits, stupid tests. Maybe this adds a ...how do you call it... a blimp to your day? I'm glad you found the interlude to your liking. It was soooooo hard to write!! I really don't know why, though scratches head Anyway, hugs and good luck with those exams!!
Also a hug to Aida. May you find what you were looking for and I hope you still enjoy this fic. :D
Ja Ne!