Once again it's Thursday. Though I'm very saddened to see how few people are reading this. Maybe I don't need to post it anymore? Why don't you review and let me know?

As far as Tatsumi's name change, it's important for his character's background (he's from one of those old, American aristocracy lines from the northeast) which won't mean much in this story (it being pretty much Hisoka x Tsuzuki), but will be very important to the prequel I'm trying to write. But you don't want to read my rants, you want to read my story.

Hisoka sat in the courtyard of his school, having scorned lunch in favor of his new book, The Hobbit. He didn't usually read fantasy, but Tsuzuki had insisted it was a classic that all must read. It had been a birthday present. He hadn't even thought about his birthday, but others hadn't been so careless. Kannuki-san had baked a cake for him. From scratch. Not that that was such an impossible thing, but it was extra effort. Kannuki-san had considered him worth the effort of baking from scratch. She was the kind of person who made the term "foster mother" not sound oxymoronic. Kazusa, the other kid living with Kannuki-san, had made him a card, more effort. It was kind of corny, with flowers and a sun, but she was only six. It was still a sweet thought and an excellent bookmark. He was using it to mark his place in The Hobbit. Tsuzuki's gift.

Tsuzuki had come by for his birthday. He'd actually been expecting it. Tsuzuki had known about his birthday and was the type of person who'd want to do something for it. Hisoka hadn't expected gifts. Aside from the book, Tsuzuki had brought ice cream for everyone and strawberry Pocky just for him. Tsuzuki had been shocked that Hisoka'd never had Pocky before.

"Even living in Japan? Really never?"

"Never."

"But Pocky is the third greatest thing to ever come from Japan!"

Hisoka wondered if the first two greatest things were sake and beer vending machines or if ramen noodles were on the list. Or some other Japanese food. Hisoka resumed reading. Absently he fumbled through his backpack for the strawberry Pocky. It was actually quite good.

"Hisoka!"

"Hisoka!"

Hisoka tried to ignore his approaching doom in the form of two freshmen. Saya and Yuma, the ultimate proof that twins are evil. Until meeting them, Hisoka had thought fan girls were a myth of the manga world, made up purely for comedic purposes. Such creatures could not exist in real life.

"Hisoka! We've been looking-"

"-everywhere for you! Why weren't you-"

"-at lunch with us, Hisoka?"

He wasn't sure which one was talking at any given moment. They weren't identical, but they were inseparable, and so they could not be identified as individuals. For the most part, Hisoka tried to avoid them. He closed his book and walked away, but the girls were determined stalkers.

"Hisoka, you can't run off yet!"

"You haven't told us who you're taking to Homecoming, Hisoka."

Hisoka weaved through the crowed halls, attempting to increase the distance between him and the girls. Thinking he'd made his escape, he paused to catch his breath. The two appeared in front of him.

"If you don't have a date yet, Hisoka, you can take both of us."

"We'd love to go with you, Hisoka."

"Please, Hisoka?"

"Please?"

Each girl grabbed onto an arm. Hisoka started to panic. The emotions of hyper teenagers played havoc with his empathic abilities.

"No!"

"Why not, Hisoka?"

"Why won't you go with us?"

Hisoka jerked himself free of their grasp.

"Because I don't like girls!" Calming down, Hisoka noticed that the hallway was suddenly very quiet.

Hisoka's room was as dark as it could be made. The lights were dim and the blinds were drawn, but the white walls, white beds, sterile white everything reflected all the light and bled the color from everything else. Tsuzuki wished it were darker. Hospitals were depressing enough when you couldn't see anything.

"Wakaba called me. Are you okay?"

"I just had a seizure. Idiot." Tsuzuki chuckled. The insult was probably the best indicator of returning health. It was hard to make out facial expressions in the hazy light, but Hisoka's tone implied that he was glaring. "I've had one before. It's triggered by an empathy overload. I'll be fine."

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better. You were very lucky that boy knew enough to put something in your mouth. Though his hand probably wasn't the best choice." Hisoka snorted. The sound of the snort worried Tsuzuki; it lacked both humor and disdain. Tsuzuki tried to shield his fears as he asked, "What's funny about it, Hisoka? You really hurt him."

"His hand was in my mouth long before the seizure started." Hisoka's tone was utterly bland, matching the blanket his hands toyed with.

"What happened at school, Hisoka?"

"I had a disagreement regarding my sexual orientation and its effect on my ability to defend myself. I'm not sure if this counts as winning or losing." A hint of amusement crept into Hisoka's voice. It seemed slightly forced.

Tsuzuki stared at Hisoka in shock. It was hardly the answer he'd expected. The fight, perhaps, though Hisoka hadn't seemed to him like a kid who got into fights.

"Does it bother you, Tsuzuki?" Hisoka asked in English. If the accent could be ignored, he'd have sounded like any of the millions of sullen teenagers across the country. Tsuzuki heard that tone every day; it wasn't a cause for concern. Tsuzuki was more disturbed by the change in language.

"No, I'm not bothered at all." Tsuzuki spoke in Japanese, trying to keep his voice soothing. He tried to consciously feel acceptance and understanding, but he couldn't tell if Hisoka was reading them or not. "It's just that coming out of the closet has been a very traumatic thing for everyone I've known. I've known men who got married and had kids just to avoid admitting that they were gay."

"You really put gay people in closets here?" Hisoka's skin, paled by the white room, was positively sapped of all color. "I thought my mother was just crazy!

"It's an expression. Coming out of the closet is when you admit openly that you're gay." Tsuzuki frowned. "Hisoka, is that why your mother put you in a closet?"

"She ...she said that I wasn't her child, that I was some demon who possessed her child, because her son could never think anything so filthy. She said I was evil." His voice shook with the strain of held back tears. Tsuzuki sat on the bed near him, but, careful of his empathy, did not reach to touch him.

"Your mother was wrong, Hisoka. You're not evil or filthy. You're a wonderful person, Hisoka."

"Tsuzuki..." Whatever barrier had blocked the tears collapsed. Tsuzuki resisted the urge to wipe the tears himself, instead handing Hisoka a tissue from the bed stand. Hisoka took it, taking care to avoid skin contact. It angered Tsuzuki, that such effort was necessary. Physical contact was a basic human need. That Hisoka couldn't satisfy it seemed wrong. Was wrong.

"Wakaba said they'll be releasing you on the thirty-first, right?"

"I don't know what Kannuki-san told you." No longer crying, Hisoka had returned to the sullen teenager act, masking embarrassment.

"Well, I'm taking Kazusa trick-or-treating and you're going with us."

"What?" The look on Hisoka's face was priceless. Tsuzuki wished he'd brought a camera, but who'd have thought there'd be use for one in a hospital.

"Trick-or-Treating. It's where you put on costumes and go around a neighborhood-"

"Idiot. I know what trick-or-treating is."

"Great. So it's decided. Wakaba may take some convincing. But Kazusa will be so excited. She's going as a fairy princess, so she needs a handsome prince. Don't worry about the costume, I'll find one for you. You just rest up. Oh! Can't forget this." Tsuzuki produced a small stuffed rabbit and set it by the tissue box. Its ears flopped over its head, covering dark, glassy eyes. Hisoka picked it up by the scruff of its neck.

"What is it?"

"A bunny - It's a get well gift!" Tsuzuki shrieked as he dodged the pillow Hisoka'd thrown. "You have to bring them on hospital visits. Flowers or stuffed animals. Or candy, if it's allowed."

"I don't like sweets." Hisoka turned his head toward the drawn curtains. Unconsciously, he pulled the stuffed rabbit to his chest.

"Flowers and stuffed animals, then. They make good company." Tsuzuki rose to leave. "And don't worry about all your Halloween candy; I'm sure someone will eat it for you."

"I'm more concerned about you picking out the fairy prince costume." Tsuzuki made a valiant effort not to laugh at Hisoka's comment, but several chuckles slipped through.

"Sorry, Hisoka. But you've really got to learn more American slang."

Kannuki-san wasn't exactly angry. She was frustrated and worried, and, all right, maybe she was just a little bit angry. It made Hisoka feel guilty for upsetting her, but not guilty enough to rest. It was the first day he was truly permitted freedom and he wasn't going to waste it in bed zoned out on Phenobarbital. Actually, he planned to stop the meds altogether as soon as Kannuki-san's worry lessened to the point where she didn't dose him herself. Epilepsy and Empathy were hardly the same illness, even if they shared some symptoms, and what was good for one would really do very little for the other.

"Are you sure you're up to going?" Kannuki-san asked for the seventh time since picking him up from the hospital. "Kazusa will understand if you need to stay home tonight."

"I know. I want to go."; Truthfully, Hisoka could think of many far more pleasant ways to spend an evening then running around collecting candy in costume. But feeling Kazusa's joy at finding out he'd be tagging along, it had become infectious. Being able to enjoy such a level of excitement when she'd come with Kannuki-san to visit him let Hisoka see, if only for one moment, the gift within his curse. And for that, he wasn't going to disappoint her.

"Very well, but do not let either of them tire you out." Kannuki-san managed to put almost as much concern into her voice as she was feeling. With completely unfeigned reluctance, she handed Hisoka his costume.

It wasn't anything that Hisoka expected. It was a yukata. He had no clue why Tsuzuki would have had one, especially one for him. The yukata had a dark green base that faded into white. A large bird was embroidered in gold thread across the back. Carefully, he slipped on the delicate yukata. He glanced at the mirror to be certain he'd put it on right and gasped. The green of the cloth went perfectly with his eyes. It certainly wasn't something he'd have picked out himself, but he couldn't deny that it was lovely. Not just the yukata itself, but how it looked on him. Hisoka had never though of himself as particularly attractive. Hardly unattractive, just normal. Yet the person he saw in the mirror was...

"Gorgeous! I knew it would look great on you, Hisoka." Hisoka jumped at the sound of Tsuzuki's voice. Something was wrong. Amid the pattern of emotions he'd grown used to feeling as Tsuzuki something had changed. The stress was greatly increased, and all the other emotions felt somehow frayed. The difference threw Hisoka off. "I was with Hijiri when he wore that to a festival once. The girls didn't even bother to pretend they weren't staring at him."

Hisoka snorted. Tsuzuki winked at him.

"The boys didn't bother, either."

Hisoka felt the heat as his cheeks darkened. He hated blushing.

"This...this was Hijiri's?" He really hated blushing. The blush made him more embarrassed, which in turn made him blush more. If only physical reactions could be convinced that circular logic was innately flawed.

"Yep. He gave it to me when I left Japan." Grief reached out and seized Hisoka's mind. He felt, suddenly that he was again starring into a mirror, but one that had slightly altered his reflection. The darker-haired image was smiling at him. Barely lighter eyes gazed back, echoing love.

"I don't want anyone to see me in it when you can't."

Worry.

The intrusion shattered the image, and Hisoka was again looking at Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki's eyes looked as worried as he felt.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." Tsuzuki's expression of concern faded, but the actual feeling was unchanged. Hisoka was surprised to find that he felt relief at seeing Tsuzuki trying to deceive again. Though Tsuzuki couldn't quite manage it; something was overworking his shields.

"As long as you're sure. What do you think of my costume, Hisoka?"

Hisoka studied Tsuzuki. He was dressed in what at first seemed an ordinary business suit. Hisoka noted two distinct, subtle differences; Tsuzuki had a tail and puppy ears. It was very difficult not to laugh at seeing such a perfect costume. Hisoka reached up and tweaked one of the ears.

"I don't see a costume."

"You're so mean, Hisoka." Unable to prevent some sort of reaction, Hisoka permitted himself a quiet snort. He might have ended up truly laughing were he not picking up on Tsuzuki's obvious distress. The Need was twisting around his mind, almost overwhelming.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hisoka didn't notice he was echoing Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki strengthened his shields involuntarily. It didn't work.

"Of course. I'm not the one who just got out of the hospital." Hisoka could feel the effort of Tsuzuki trying to calm his mind. But the frayed strips just wouldn't stay together. He was tying them in knots, and they still fell apart.

"Your hands are shaking."

"No they aren't." Hisoka grabbed Tsuzuki's right wrist and dangled the hand between them. The twitch reminded Hisoka of the lunch they'd had the first time they'd met. "Stop that, Hisoka."

"Be honest with me, Tsuzuki. I'm an empath. It hurts me more when you try to lie."

"I'm sorry." Tsuzuki really meant it, but Hisoka sensed none of the emotional changes he'd expect from a liar deciding to tell the truth. Only guilt and a craving.

"Sorry is about all you'll ever be, if you can't last even a conversation without needing a drink." His comment surprised Tsuzuki. For the first time, Hisoka felt Tsuzuki experience anger.

"I haven't had a drink all day. I'm not so much of an idiot as to take kids out when I'm drunk." Tsuzuki's anger scared him. It seemed unreal. Tsuzuki took a deep breath and the anger began to slowly ebb. Hisoka thought about commenting on how a single day was causing so much extra stress, so many emotional fluctuations, but decided against it. It wouldn't do any good.

"I'm sorry." Hisoka looked down and noticed his hand still wrapped around Tsuzuki's wrist. It was strange. Touching Tsuzuki didn't feel like an intrusion; it felt comfortable. He let his grip slide down until they were holding hands. Unsure how emotions were conveyed with touch, he settled for squeezing Tsuzuki's hand tightly before letting go.

"It's okay, Hisoka." Tsuzuki smiled. "I'll try to be more honest with you."

"Are you two ready to go?"

Kazusa ran into the room, the image of a six-year-old princess. Tsuzuki's tender smile shifted into a mischievous grin.

"You ready, Hisoka?" he asked in English. Hisoka found the language somewhat annoying. He wished Kazusa could stay at home so he and Tsuzuki could keep using Japanese. Hisoka mentally kicked himself. Kazusa was the reason they were going out in the first place.

"Let's go." Kazusa grabbed his hand to drag him outside. Hisoka quickly fortified his shields against her. It was so different from holding hands with Tsuzuki.