Okay, various questions mean I need to do some explaining. Yes, this is completely AU. Tsuzuki doesn't 'remeber' Hisoka for any reason. Hisoka looks familiar because... well, that's explained in this chapter. Second, Hisoka is still an empath. Honestly, I just couldn't imagine his character without the empathy. As far as I know, no one really has that power, but people have claimed ridiculous things before and I'm sure continue to do so. Tsuzuki's job...sort of an idealized version of a children's services, social worker kinda thing. One who actually has time to get to know the kids he's supposed to be helping. Most of the names were left alone, but some were changed because it's set in America. Realistically, some people aren't going to be of Japanese descent. (just to avoid the confusion, I warn you now Tatsumi's name was changed to Terrance)

Two a.m. was really the ideal time for a walk. Really. There were no people, no foreign emotions, nothing to disturb his thoughts.

At the moment, Hisoka was searching for a crowded mall.

Normally, he'd never consider such places comforting, but the night - no, morning - was too quiet, too empty of others feelings for him to do anything but think. Think about the nightmare that had sent him on this early walk. Think about Muraki sensei's fingers tracing his spine. Think about the light pressure of Muraki sensei's lips. Think about every ounce of pleasure he'd experienced that creature feel, and how it had enjoyed more than anything the fact that Hisoka could feel it as well.

He really needed to find some company, any company.

His thoughts had led him on a rather confused path; far away from anyplace he could hope for comfort. Hisoka shivered. A cemetery was no place to be at two in the morning, especially if one wanted human contact. Hisoka needed some other emotions to drive his own away.

Guilt. Anger. Shame. Hate. Fear. Helplessness.

He needed something to block it all out.

In the silence, Hisoka heard a soft sobbing. It scared him, that he had failed to sense the other person. Still, he was drawn towards the sound with a sort of morbid curiosity. What sort of person would be in a cemetery at this hour?

The man sat against a tombstone, crying. His head was cradled in his hands, his eyes covered. Tears flowed from the gaps between his fingers and ran down his hands. A near ideal illustration of human misery.

Tsuzuki?

Feeling like an intruder, Hisoka backed away, but his feet stumbled on another stone, attracting Tsuzuki's attention.

"Hijiri?" Inhuman purple eyes, dull with alcohol yet still near impossibly bright, shifted as they tried to focus on him. "You're no' here...?"

"It's Hisoka." He felt the shields that weren't in place before arise and feelings he'd thought were his own hid behind them. At least he now knew how he'd failed to notice Tsuzuki.

"Sorry, Hisoka. Shoulda known it was you. Hijiri wouldn' be here." Hisoka felt no disappointment from Tsuzuki, but he dismissed it as a shielded emotion. Or at the very least, blocked by need and confusion. Tsuzuki frowned at him, recognizing the oddity of the situation for the first time. "Ano...what're you doin' here, 'Soka?"

"I was taking a walk." Hisoka felt himself blushing and was grateful for the early morning darkness. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting the dead." Tsuzuki gestured to the graves surrounding them. He was smiling and the tears had stopped, but Hisoka didn't think he looked any less miserable. In Hisoka's mind, the smile only made it worse.

"At two in the morning?"

"And they're not dead just 'cuz everyone's asleep?" Tsuzuki giggled. Hisoka's lips twitched, but he would not smile. As the giggling calmed, a still grinning Tsuzuki asked Hisoka, "Why were you walkin' at two in the morning?"

"Is the road not there just because no one's looking at it?" Tsuzuki laughed again.

"Well, tha's one theory. S'not like you could tell it wasn' there if you weren' looking."

"That's a stupid theory. Not thinking about something won't make it disappear."

"Why don't you try it, Hisoka?" A little of the tiredness Hisoka had been feeling from the man leaked into Tsuzuki's voice. "Don't think of me and maybe I'll disappear."

"Idiot!" For a moment, Hisoka had instinctively tried to follow the request, but found his mind could focus only on Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki's dark brown hair that fell into his eyes. Tsuzuki's hyper cheerfulness and bright smile. Tsuzuki's gorgeous, deceptive eyes. What the hell was he thinking? "You can't specifically not think of something. Try not thinking of an orange!"

"Wha'?" Tsuzuki concentrated visibly, wrinkling his forehead, a parody of some ancient philosopher. He laughed again. "Orange. Orange. Orange. Orange. You're right, I am an idiot."

They stayed in the cemetery in silence, Tsuzuki sitting, Hisoka leaning against one of the taller monuments. Time passed, but there was nothing to say, no place either of them wanted to go.

"Come on, Hisoka. I'll walk you back to your place."

"It's not my place."

"The house where you're staying, then? It's getting close to three, you should be in bed."

"I'm fine!" Hisoka snapped. He could feel the blood starting to rise in his cheeks and again thanked the darkness for its concealment.

"Didn't say you weren't fine, just that I'd walk you back."

Truthfully, Hisoka was in need of the escort. His trip to the graveyard had followed a rather haphazard path he wasn't sure he could retrace. Besides, it felt nicer to be with someone, far better than being alone. Even the drunken idiot was better company than his thoughts.

"So why were you walking out here, anyway?" Hisoka wished he could have bitten off whatever was the mental equivalent of a tongue. He'd thought too soon.

"So why were you in a cemetery at this hour?" Returning the challenge didn't make Hisoka feel any better. He could tell that his question had hurt Tsuzuki, but not why. Tsuzuki smiled at him anyway. Aside from the usual pain guilt and ever-present Need, Hisoka felt from him the same mix of amusement and admiration he'd noticed the first time they'd met. Such an unusual combination.

"My sister's buried there. I like visiting her when it's quiet." Tsuzuki looked at him expectantly. Hisoka scowled. He didn't have to tell Tsuzuki anything. He hadn't made any deals about exchanging information.

"I had a nightmare. I needed to get out for awhile."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Concern flooded the area.

"I see a shrink for that." Hisoka tried to put as much scorn on the word "shrink" as he felt, but failed miserably. As obvious as the contempt was, he showed far less then he wished. Tsuzuki didn't seem to pick up on it.

"It's good to have someone to talk to."

"Idiot." Hisoka was certain he'd said it, but could almost believe the word had never been verbalized. Tsuzuki's feelings reflected neither outrage nor insult. Not even disappointment at being held at such a low esteem. Tsuzuki merely shrugged, grinning at him, his emotions reading only acceptance and some resignation. Hisoka felt his innards twist with guilt, his own this time. It was odd, feeling a particular emotion after being used to reading it from someone else. Yet he had felt guilt earlier tonight. Guilt, pain and a Need that had been so powerful as to draw him along on his walk, leading him.

"Can you get inside?"

Hisoka woke from his reverie and noticed they had arrived. The graveyard had to have been closer than he'd thought. He knew he hadn't simply zoned out for much of the walk. Though Hisoka couldn't remember a cemetery close to his still-new residence.

"I can." Hisoka stepped behind the plants and tried to boost himself over the sill of his half-opened window. He just missed his first attempt. Jumping a second time, he felt Tsuzuki's hands around his waist, lifting him the extra centimeters. Hisoka slid under the window and turned around to see Tsuzuki's smiling face.

"Goodnight, Hisoka."

Hisoka slammed the window shut and spun back to face his room and hide his rising blush. He whispered the words under his breath in a vain attempt to keep them from his own ears.

"Goodnight, Tsuzuki."

Terrance Phillips stood regarding the figure before him and arrived at a judgment: pathetic. Wrinkled clothes he had come to expect, but these were yesterday's wrinkled clothes, clearly slept in. The hair was in an even greater state of disarray then usual. He found he simply had to lean over his friend and gently brush the hair back. His fingers ran through it easily.

"Lord Ruthven's been looking for you." Purple eyes rimmed with red widened in near panic. Lord Ruthven was the nickname of their supervisor.

"Shit." The exhalation carrying the word released the stench of stale alcohol. Terrance's nose twitched, but otherwise he gave no indication that he'd noticed.

"What happened to you, Asato?" Terrance wasn't completely sure he was referring to last night.

"I lost my keys. I couldn't get into my house or my car, so I had to sleep outside." Terrance didn't question his friend's story. It could have been true, but he knew there was no way he could tell. Asato was an accomplished liar, the most accomplished liar he'd ever met. He'd given up on separating the truth from lies years ago.

"You could have called me."

"At three-thirty in the morning?"

"Yes." A simple answer for a simple question.

"I'd've woken your wife."

"She's a heavy sleeper." He picked up a mint from his desk and handed it to Asato. "It will be easier if you find him now."

"Thanks, Tats." Asato unwrapped the mint, smiled and popped it in his mouth.

Terrance's lips twitched slightly at the use of the old nickname, but he could not smile.

Terrance was a very composed man, with an innate ability to appear unruffled regardless of his thoughts. It was thanks to this gift that he merely glanced over at the door to the supervisor's office every few seconds rather than staring at it fixedly. He pulled his eyes away from the door and back to his computer, noting the time in the lower right corner. He would not look at the door again for five minutes. He resumed working. Asato could last five minutes in the room. Alone with that pervert. Terrance's eyes were back on the door. He cursed himself and returned to work, starting the cycle anew. Terrance had yet to grow accustomed to sending Asato to the vampire. Though in all honesty, the supervisor was less Lord Ruthven than Asato himself. It seemed illogical for his friend to be both predator and prey, but it best fit the situation. Whoever the vampire, he was still eternally unable to do anything. And eternally obligated to try.

Thanks, Tats.

The damn name made it worse. It made him remember when it had not been merely a call to a friend across a crowded room. He remembered the nickname as hot breath in his ear, warm and comfortable. He remembered the nickname as a sharp gasp of pleasure beneath him, excited and thrilling. He did not want to remember that nickname grateful and shaky, scented with alcohol. It made him feel almost responsible for whatever was being done behind the door that he wasn't looking at.

Which, of course, he was looking at again.

Terrance cursed mentally and resumed work.

"Um...excuse me?" The hesitant whisper drew Terrance's eyes away from his work and his attention partially away from the office door. The distraction angered him.

"What?" he snapped and turned on his victim. And instantly froze. An external observer might have noticed a slight hesitation and his eyes widening a fraction. An external observer who knew Terrance would recognize the equivalent of complete shock, eyes bugging out and mouth agape. The victim...er...boy didn't seem to notice. His eyes were on the door. The one Terrance wasn't watching.

"Tsuzuki...he's here?" The boy was fidgeting; clearly trying not to stare at the door, throw open the door, stop whatever was going on behind the door. No, he couldn't know, the boy was merely observing his own discomfort. A very perceptive boy, noticing what was bothering him. Terrance knew the boy had to be Hisoka. If the accent wasn't enough, there were the looks to go by. It was the looks that had truly surprised him. Asato had said Hisoka resembled Hijiri. He had not said that they were practically identical.

"He's in there." Terrance took the opportunity to look at the door. But looking away was easier with Hisoka to wonder at. He would hardly consider himself the best judge - he'd never met Hijiri in person and it had been years since Asato had shown him any photos - but in his memory, the two had few physical differences. Hisoka's hair was lighter and his eyes were brighter. Hijiri hadn't even looked all that much older, though he had been, Terrance thought, nineteen.

"I brought his keys. We found them...." Hisoka fumbled in his pocket to pull them out. It looked difficult, with his attention focused elsewhere. Terrance sympathized; his mind was there as well.

"Just go right in, then. Asato won't mind." In fact, Asato would be grateful. Terrance didn't have time to notice a look of relief cross Hisoka's face before the boy was at the door, and pulling it open.

Asato came falling out the door as though he'd been pressed up against it. Since Lord Ruthven was standing in the doorframe with all the satisfaction of a cat who'd just discovered that birds could fly away, such was likely the case. Terrance resisted a sigh. Asato had always had a knack for trapping himself between an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Or the nearest real-world equivalent.

"Hisoka?"

"Baka!" The first word of Hisoka's lecture was the only one Terrance could translate. Idiot. It seemed an appropriate description for Asato. In fact, the only time he'd heard the word was in describing his friend.

"Hidoii...." Asato whined. Terrance thought the word meant mean or cruel. He briefly pondered the best revenge on whoever had told him Spanish would be the most useful language to study. Asato's whimpering had had no effect whatsoever on the boy's tirade. It seemed nothing would, until the quarrel faded under soft chuckles.

His laughter.

"...Tats?" His friend regarded him with concern. The boy, on the other hand, was gaping as though he'd grown a second head. It was odd and out of place, especially for him, but he couldn't help laughing.

"I'm sorry, Asato. I was just remembering the last time you whined in Japanese. When you'd call Hijiri." It had been sad, really. Asato making expensive phone calls for the sole purpose of being verbally abused. Though Hijiri had made his share of calls as well, just for lectures and scoldings. Terrance stole a glance at Asato, making sure he hadn't upset him by bringing up Hijiri. Asato was laughing as well.

"Well, I did say Hisoka was a lot like him."

"Hijiri wa...?" Hisoka started to ask, forgetting to switch back to English. Asato returned to Japanese for his explanation. Terrance listened, but didn't pick out the word he was looking for. He dismissed it as meaningless. Perhaps he couldn't make it out, or he was wrong about its meaning. Or Asato was lying again, and talking to Hijiri's twin he wouldn't blame him. Whatever the case, he didn't hear the word "koibito."

Last note, I swear. Lord Ruthven is a vampire based on Lord Byron. His character in this story is supposed to be based on Hakushaku.