Never Enough

"Why do you do this, Tsuzuki?" Hisoka whispered to him, his fingers touching the scars gingerly. "I mean... I don't really mind if I die, but..."

Tsuzuki gave no response, in any fashion, and Hisoka sat back with a frustrated sigh.

It was a good thing Hisoka didn't mind if he died, because that was what was coming. No one said as much, but he knew. For the last several months, since Tsuzuki's relapse, he'd been growing weaker. He couldn't manage to keep much food down, he hurt everywhere. It was all he could do to stand, and he certainly couldn't walk on his own. And then there were the blackouts and lapses in his memory that became more and more frequent...

Maybe that weird blue-eyed doctor he'd seen that one day had been right. Maybe without a reason to go on living, maybe it was just more natural to die. Now that Tsuzuki had reverted to his previous state, and wasn't responding to anything, perhaps Hisoka had given up on himself without even realizing it.

He hadn't quite given up on Tsuzuki, though. He visited every day that he could manage to sit up in a wheelchair, and talked to him just as he'd done before, if more urgently. At least the doctors and nurses were willing to indulge him in this.

Sometimes they stayed with him as he sat with Tsuzuki, and Hisoka silently wished that something would happen elsewhere on the ward so they would leave the two of them alone. Maybe that was why Tsuzuki wouldn't respond anymore, he told himself. And he wasn't going to talk about the things he thought and felt when there were doctors and nurses in the room.

There was one doctor who seemed to understand - Dr. Muraki. He retreated after he'd pushed Hisoka's wheelchair to the side of Tsuzuki's bed, and told him with a smile to take as much time as he liked.

Hisoka... wanted to like him. He should like Dr. Muraki, he thought. It was just that despite the seemingly understanding, friendly surface appearance, it felt as if there was a sinister, gloating chuckle behind every smile. He found himself almost wishing for one of the doctors who would stay in the room with him, rather than Muraki's apparent indulgence of his wishes, just because the man was somehow so unnerving.

"I wish you could tell me what happened to you to make you like this," Hisoka whispered to Tsuzuki, then paused. "Well... I guess I wouldn't make you tell me if you didn't want to. It must have hurt a lot for you to wind up like this. But you know about all the things that hurt me... And, uhm... I really feel stupid saying something like this," Hisoka muttered sheepishly, "but telling you made me feel better. I mean... it still hurts. But you heard it all, you heard everything - I know you heard me, somewhere deep down - and you're still here. ...Of course, it's not like you could leave... But still, you still smiled at me after that. After knowing what I am and what I could do." His voice dropped again. "It... was nice."

Still no response. Hisoka bit his lip and turned to another subject, trying to talk normally, as he had when Tsuzuki was still responding. "...My father came to visit the other day. That's how I know I really am dying - he hadn't visited me before in all this time." Hisoka laughed a scoffing, unamused laugh. "He said he was sorry. I felt like he even meant it... so why did he treat me like that in the first place, if he didn't want to? And he didn't stay long... it was like he couldn't wait to get away from me again. And my mother, she didn't come... But she was the one who told me I wasn't her child, so I don't care. I hope she doesn't come."

The words were said forcefully, stubbornly. Too stubbornly. Hisoka frowned; easy as it was to read other people's dishonesty, it was somehow more difficult to recognize in himself. "...Okay... so part of me hoped she would. But it's not like I expected her to... I didn't expect my father, either."

Hisoka sighed, and lowered his voice further. "Honestly... I guess I am afraid of dying. I mean, nobody knows what happens when we die. And I keep telling myself that whatever happens, it can't be worse than this life... but it's still scary." His voice broke, which made him angry at himself. "Do you know...?" he asked Tsuzuki. "Or was life really so horrible for you that you'd take your chances? I wish someone knew, so they could tell me..."

He thought about it for a moment, then loosened his grip on Tsuzuki's hand, which had apparently tightened without his knowing it. "No, on second thought, maybe I don't. I mean, I can't do anything about dying. No one can. We're all going to die someday, whether we like it or not, and knowing what comes after we die won't prevent it from happening, if we decide we don't like it."

That was a particularly frightening thought, but Hisoka didn't think it was responsible for the wave of dizziness he felt all of a sudden. He let go of Tsuzuki's hand momentarily to press a hand against his forearm; sometimes it felt as though there was something inside him, snakes writhing underneath his skin. He could tell the doctors exactly where he felt them, and even trace the lines, but the lines didn't correspond to any nerves or veins, and they could never detect anything unusual.

"...I don't have a choice," he murmured, feeling feverish as he reached for Tsuzuki's hand again. "You do... You don't have to die just yet. So... live, okay?" He smirked faintly, in a rebellious moment. "It would really throw everyone off. And maybe..." His tone grew more serious. "Well, I don't want to die completely alone. You're my... uhm, my only friend. I guess. I haven't had a friend for a long time..."

All of a sudden, something changed, and Hisoka's aching head snapped up instinctively. He stared at their hands in shock - Tsuzuki's fingers had partially closed around his.

"...Tsuzuki..." The man's expression was still empty, but there was an undercurrent of gratitude running through the emotions Hisoka sensed. "You can hear me, can't you...? Are you... are you going to wake up for me?" What if he did? ...What if he tried to slash his wrist again? "P-please... if you come out of this... don't hurt yourself. Okay? I don't want you to hurt yourself..."

And he was babbling, his vision going dim. Hisoka put the hand that wasn't holding Tsuzuki's to his head. "...And I can't do anything to stop you... I don't feel so good..."

That distant, sparkling gratitude was cut off suddenly, vanishing at the sound of the door opening behind Hisoka. This wasn't unexpected - the doctors had hooked Hisoka up to monitors recently, to alert them instantly of any changes in his condition. Usually the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was someone rushing into his room and asking how he felt, maybe strapping an oxygen mask or blood pressure cuff to him.

This time, it was Dr. Muraki, and the man did not ask how he felt. "I know you haven't had all the time you needed," he said with a pleasant smile, "but I believe it's time for you to go now."

"But..." Hisoka tried to protest weakly, still clinging to Tsuzuki's hand as he slumped forward in the wheelchair. "But I... he..." It was growing difficult to figure out how to put words together, and his tongue felt stiff and awkward.

"I will take care of Tsuzuki-san," Dr. Muraki told him firmly, reaching for their clasped hands to separate them. "Indeed, I'll take very good care of him. Even if his mind is gone, don't you think he left a perfect body behind?"

Something unpleasant sparked in Hisoka's memory, or the lack thereof - and it exploded when the doctor's hand encircled his wrist. Blood and moonlight and the smell of fallen petals and pain and fear and more pain; and Muraki's emotions, twisted and writhing madness like the snakes Hisoka felt beneath his skin, crawling in the same patterns, silver and red serpents with cold crystal-blue eyes...

Even if he hadn't been only half-conscious, he could not have withstood the chaos and terror to stay awake. "Tsu..." he gasped faintly, then everything went dark as Muraki pulled them apart.

There was a dim but dreadful noise as consciousness returned - people talking all around his bed. They felt desperate. That went away after only a moment; then there was a moment where he felt a tube inserted in his throat as he panted for breath. That too passed. Hisoka didn't care.

The next thing he saw clearly was a bright light.