Those dancing blossoms. They mocked the weather patterns of the Living World. They drifted, and skipped through the air, taunting the harshness of the land below. So unforgiving. Death down below. Rebirth in Pergatory. It made no difference where a soul was. You were faced with the same mocking, the same soul wrenching difficulties you had faced before.

That was why every Shinigami was employed. How many Shinigami passed through those halls because of loneliness? Social creatures. Those were what the Shinigami were, and at the same time, yearned to be. Humans are social creatures. Shinigami were human. So, what are they now? Less than human? Wolves in sheeps clothing? Or simply just wolves. Yearning to be part of a pack but still very lonesome, sad creatures. Creatures who would nip and shred for the tiny taste of a real happiness. A real human existance

That was why they were here.

The secretary had neve bothered to ask Watari of his past. After all, private matters must be kept private. Humorous ideas of Watari's reason to be here had drifted past Tatsumi's mind before. Blown up in his lab? Drank a poisonous concoction? Tinkering with electric and shocked himself to death?

But Tatsumi did not know. He could not see through those honeyed eyes behind those glasses. One did not normally see sorrow in those eyes. They were flickering with curiosity, or humor. Such eyes he had looked into numerous times, as he held and consoled Tsuzuki.

Remembering such eyes...he never wanted to know the truth behind them. It only lay in pain, sorrow, and a soul that had wasted away, almost to the point of death.

But those eyes surely cannot be Watari's.

Watari looked down, as if realizing the personal detail he had allowed to slip through his lips. Was this all a mistake? He did not expect such a heavy response from Tatsumi. Maybe Watari should not have collected one-thousand of those fabled cherry blossoms. He shouldn't have disturbed the stoic, cold secretary that stood before him. An imposing and respectable being.

Watari pulled on a lock of hair, running through anything to lighten the situation. He found nothing. With a nod, Watari turned on his heel, to return to the dark corridors and haunted rooms of the Ministry. A safe haven.

Startled, the secretary lifted a hand. "Watari" he called, quiet and commanding. Watari turned, eyebrow raised. He expected a chewing out, a scolding, a reason for the frivolty he pressed on the secretary in the past day.

The scientist wasn't in the mood. His response had brushed something within him that he hadn't felt since his first days as a supernatural being. He eyed Tatsumi with a tired eye, and a pursed mouth.

"I did not mean to...to make you remember anything Watari" Tatsumi said, arm still out in mid-gesture. "It's just that your question regarding my past really made me remember some things"

Watari turned to face Tatsumi. His narrowed eyes behind the spectacles held a dim sparkle of curiosity, and a present barrier of privacy.

"I wasn't planning for you to think so hard for a response" Watari said quietly, sticking his hands in his coat pockets. "Actually, I half expected you to laugh, and shove the jar back in my hands"

Tatsumi allowed himself a slight smile. He turned his back to Watari. After a moment of thinking, Tatsumi called over his shoulder:

"You asked over dinner. I suppose I will give you an answer over dinner. A fair answer, since you were honest with me"

Light brown eyes widened. The scientist walked silently to the back of the other man. Watari caught another petal between his fingers, and offered it to Tatsumi. "You really do keep your promises, don't you?" he asked, smiling.

Tatsumi touched Watari's hand lightly, and took the petal. He looked at it for a moment. "Rebirth" he whispered.

"A promise is the most anyone can offer"

He released it. The petal continued it's dancing journey to the ground.

Oooooo

One chapter to go everyone Please drop me a line with your comments, and thank you so much for keeping up with the story so far!