Pairing: Mild mention of Tsusoka
Genre: General/Humor
Chapters:One-shot.
Spoilers:Small mention of a bit from the King of Swords Arc. VERY small.
Disclaimer: Not mine, unforunately!
Comments: Haha! I'm ALIVE. Just in a different fandom! Many apologies to all my loyal YuGiOh fans but I think I'll be breaking for a little while there until I get the inspiration to come up with anything else for my WIP stories. Anyway, this is my Muraki-sensei birthday fic! XD A little late in posting it HERE but...well here it is, anyway!
Enjoy!!
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As a doctor, coming home late wasn't something that often bothered Kazutaka Muraki. He was quite used to the hours and no longer spared more than a glance at the clock across the room whose hands were set somewhere around two. In the morning.
The only thing noticeable about the hour was the change of the date that accompanied it. He smirked faintly to himself as he shrugged out of his coat. Despite the fact he had yet to sleep, it had been the fourth of December for two hours. Was he really forty already?
Shaking his head slightly, the silver haired man headed into the kitchen once his things had been set aside, intent on getting a drink before sleeping some. He was almost to the refrigerator when he noticed something out of the ordinary. Something that came in the form of a small, chocolate cake. Muraki stared at it for a moment.
Where the hell had that come from? Or rather… how the hell had it gotten in here?
Abandoning the thought of a beverage, Muraki walked over to the counter where the cake sat. 'Happy Birthday' was scrawled across the top in green icing and, judging by the shaky structure of the lettering, it wasn't professionally made. There was no card with the dessert nor were there any other clues as to who could've sent it.
The doctor frowned, eyeing the cake in quiet for a long moment. He thought for a moment it might be Oriya's doing but he certainly wasn't here in Tokyo. Besides, his old friend wouldn't have any reason to be so secretive about his identity.
Muraki realized with some amusement that it might be poisoned. If that was the case then this had to be the worst attempt at disposing of him he had yet to come across. He had informed Tsuzuki-san upon the Queen Camille that poison of any sort was no longer a threat to him so why go through the trouble of the cake?
Well, if this was indeed a… 'gift' from the Shinigami, it would be rude to refuse, ne? That in mind, Muraki decided that it would be all the more amusing when he turned up unharmed from this sad little endeavor and thus moved to get out a knife and plate.
The knife he picked out of the drawer slid easily through the soft cake, the two lines used to separate a slice from the whole being clean in their precision under his steady hand. Once Muraki managed to slide the piece onto his plate, he set the knife in the now empty spot on the cake plate and dug out a fork.
Fully expecting some sort of ineffective poison to be laced with the cake, Muraki nearly choked on the bite he took. Far too big of a bite. It was HORRIBLE. He barely managed to down what was wreaking havoc on his taste buds, setting the plate haphazardly on the counter as he coughed and snatched a cup from the cabinet above.
No poison could taste nearly as bad as THAT did. Several gargles and drinks of water later served to be little help, the horrid taste lingering on his poor tongue. Feeling as if he might be sick for several moments, Muraki closed his eyes and struggled not to focus on that awful flavor. Poison he could deal with – Hell! He could survive a should-be-fatal stab! – but that….that was just cruel! And he knew cruel!
It wasn't until he'd brushed his teeth several times and rinsed his mouth with a generous amount of Listerine that the doctor dared to deal with the evil cake again. It was almost shocking how something so seemingly sweet could taste so… I bad /I . Needless to say, the whole thing was quickly disposed of. It might have been a good idea to save some and run tests to ensure there wasn't anything that could harm him within but…
Well, he just didn't want to ever have to deal with that thing again.
For now he was just thankful he'd gotten the taste out of his mouth.
Elsewhere, a certain green-eyed empath was smirking to himself against his sleeping partner's chest. Said partner had been under the impression Hisoka was going to curse or poison the cake or something of that sort.
Without the other's knowledge, the younger Shinigami had decided there were few things in the torture department that could compare with Tsuzuki's cooking.