Similarities

The ward was whispering in the days after the incident with the strange patient at the end of the hallway. Whispering softly, to those few friends who each person felt they could confide in - but as always, Hisoka picked up and overheard more of it than he was meant to.

"He was awake for only half an hour," a nurse said to another in a low voice. "He cried the whole time - it was terrible. And then he just... turned off again."

"I heard he's been here longer than anyone else," the older man told his wife on a visit. "Longer than some of the doctors, even..."

"He's woken up before," muttered a doctor to one of his assistants. "They said every time he wakes, he cuts his wrist - but I never thought I'd see it. The last time was before I graduated med school."

"He never comes out or in, just lies there with his eyes open, until..." the middle-aged woman murmured to the woman in the room beside hers. "I saw him last time this happened... He hasn't even changed since then. If you ask me, I think he has a demon."

"Dr. Takeda said there's something strange about his genetic structure," another nurse explained quietly to the other on duty. "He doesn't move, even to eat or drink, but for some reason he's stayed alive all this time. It's not natural."

"I heard he's not human..." the frail little girl whispered fearfully to her mother. "I think he's a monster..."

Their words stung Hisoka. He'd become accustomed to hearing such words as "demon" and "unnatural" and "monster" directed at him, and kept forgetting that this time they weren't. What would all of them think of him, he wondered, if they knew what he could do...?

What about that strange man that their words were directed at? Would he understand, enduring those insults and fears? Or would he be just like the rest, afraid and hateful to know what Hisoka could do?

There was no way to tell, Hisoka supposed. He'd asked Misako about the man, and she'd told him that he'd been in a coma for a very long time. There was no physical cause, as far as anyone could tell - but it was as if his soul had just shut down. After that brief period of wakefulness, it had shut down again. If he ever became conscious again, even for a little while, it would probably be years.

His soul was still there, though, or Hisoka wouldn't be able to feel him. And he did - he could tell when he woke up one morning that they had moved the man back to his room from wherever they'd taken him. That feeling of emptiness was the same as before, as if nothing had ever happened.

Now that Hisoka could put a face to it, though, it was different. Those eyes haunted him, and not because of the strange color. They had been full of the same emptiness that he felt all around the man's room. It was a terrible feeling, like the dreams he had sometimes of falling and falling from a great height, but for some reason Hisoka felt compelled to see those eyes again.

Late one night, when there were only two nurses on duty, and they were both busy chattering in the nurses' station, Hisoka crept from his room and made his way down the hall alone, supporting himself on the wooden trim and doorknobs of other patients' rooms. Finally, exhausted, he found himself holding onto the knob of the last door, and turned it.

He was almost surprised that it wasn't locked, but it opened easily, allowing him to step inside. Parking lot lamps cast a dim light through windows stabilized with metal mesh, partially illuminating the man who lay motionless in the bed.

Hisoka stepped closer, feeling uncertain now that he was actually there. What if the man did have a demon, what if he was a monster? If he came awake all of a sudden again, like he had before, and if he got violent, what would Hisoka do?

Something told Hisoka, however, that it wasn't likely. The feeling of emptiness was stronger the closer he came, and the only thing that colored that vast darkness was an edge of melancholy. The man in the bed could wake up if he wanted to, but... he didn't want to live. No surprise, if what the doctors said was true.

Finally Hisoka found himself standing at the end of the bed. It was an old-fashioned bed - probably the room hadn't changed in all the time the man had been a resident there - and had a medical chart on the end. Hisoka glanced down, and found a name. So he did have one...

Once he'd memorized it, he came to stand beside the bed, just looking. The right arm was bandaged, and rested absently across his stomach. Even the posture of his fingers looked limp, as if he was asleep, but the man's eyes were open. He was definitely not awake, either, though - they were blank and staring at nothing at all, or perhaps at the emptiness that surrounded him. In the dim light, Hisoka couldn't even make out the vivid violet color he remembered - his eyes were like black holes.

"...Hello... Tsuzuki Asato." Even his half-whisper seemed awkwardly loud in the stillness and silence of the room. "My name is Kurosaki Hisoka..."

There was no response, physical or emotional. Hisoka wondered why he felt disappointed about that - hadn't he been afraid that he might cause some kind of response? Yet part of him seemed to have been hoping that maybe he would be able to do something the doctors couldn't. Or maybe something the doctors could have done, if they'd cared to really try.

"I just came here two months ago," Hisoka continued. "They didn't tell me why they brought me here, but I know. I'm dying, and nobody can figure out why. It doesn't look like this place is going to have the answer either. But that's okay... my life wasn't going so well anyway."

Still no response. Not even a flicker of an eyelash. Hisoka bit his lip. "I wondered who was in this room ever since I got here. I didn't know until I saw them wheel you past the other day..."

His eyes were drawn to the bandaged wrist and arm, and his eyes narrowed in pity. "...Now I just wonder what hurt you so badly. You're in there, aren't you? You just don't want to come out... and when you do, this is all you want..."

Hisoka's hand reached out to lightly touch the bandage - and suddenly, something changed. Beneath the emptiness and melancholy, there was something like... confusion? Surprise? The feeling of someone who can't make themselves believe in something, being confronted with evidence.

Hisoka frowned, thinking. He shouldn't make skin contact - he'd learned that the hard way before... But this time, he was curious. Tsuzuki Asato was a mystery he wanted to solve... and he didn't feel dangerous. Not at all. Plus, Hisoka was already going to die - how much further harm could possibly be done?

Very cautiously, in case whatever he found was too much to bear, he slid one finger over to touch the bare skin of the thumb. Hisoka was instantly plunged into a void so deep that it felt like a dark cave, without so much as ground beneath him to make him feel secure. Everything was cold, and there was a howling that he thought at first must be the wind, as much as it sounded like a tormented animal, because nothing could howl for so long without taking a breath...

Hisoka gasped as he found himself suddenly sitting down hard. With the contact broken from his fall, he was no longer in sync with Tsuzuki and feeling his emotions directly, which was a good thing. He felt as if he'd been making those walks up and down the hallway all afternoon, only worse. Even so, he pulled himself upright again with the help of the bed, and stared at the man's face.

Tears were trickling from Tsuzuki's blank, staring eyes, running down the sides of his cheeks. Furthermore, beyond the residue from their contact, Hisoka could feel pangs of loneliness so strong they were almost desperate.

How could anyone feel that way? It felt like hunger, like starving... No wonder he'd turned himself off - a man couldn't live with feelings like that, and still care. Hisoka, for instance... no one had ever loved him either, but he didn't care about stupid things like what other people thought and felt.

So why, then, did he carefully take the bandaged hand in his own again, careful not to touch skin? His words, too, didn't make any sense, even if they made perfect sense.

"...I know."

Hisoka had been right - Tsuzuki hadn't entirely turned himself off. He could still be reached, though not by most people. Maybe not but anyone but Hisoka, and so Hisoka took a deep breath, steeled himself, and took Tsuzuki's hand in his completely, wrapping his fingers around Tsuzuki's to make full contact.

The void was still there, and terrifying - but instead of letting himself sync to Tsuzuki's emotions, he tried to force the bond the other way, letting Tsuzuki feel his. There was confusion there, and disbelief at his own idiocy in bothering to do something like this, but somehow protectiveness had bloomed through it all.

"I'm an empath... I can feel other people's emotions, and sync with them when I touch their skin. Like I'm doing now, with you. People were always afraid of me because of it. They said I was a demon child, a monster. My parents even locked me in the basement if I said anything about it..."

They say the same things about me as they do you. But we're not monsters, are we?

The lack of expression on Tsuzuki's face hadn't changed a bit when Hisoka removed his other hand from Tsuzuki's cheek - but for a few moments before that, the void of Tsuzuki's emptiness had become less cold.