Shinigami do not like to talk about their deaths, or their lives. They're often times filled with regrets and pain. That's what makes us able to be shinigami, guardians of death, in the first place. I admit, I originally took this position for revenge on my killer, but now, after meeting Tsuzuki...the thoughts of killing Muraki are slowly fading and revenge isn't that important anymore.
My first impression of Tsuzuki was a of a lazy happy-go-lucky idiot who didn't care about his job. I was right about his job, but not for the right reasons. Whenever he took a soul to the afterlife, everytime he killed someone, a part of him died as well.
I should have known I couldn't possibly be the only person with a 'tragic' past, but finding out about Tsuzuki and his past made mine seem almost bearable.
I think the Chief planned it to happen this way, though I don't think he meant for us to fall in love. It was inevitable, I suppose. I'm an empath, and Tsuzuki is a man who doesn't let any true emotions of his show. He hurts but keeps a smile on his face. Tatsumi and I are the only ones who understand that and the only ones who could have helped him.
Tatsumi tried and from what I hear, he could have succeeded. It was Tatsumi's past that got in his way of healing Tsuzuki. It was Tsuzuki's tears; Tatsumi can't stand to see Tsuzuki in pain. Everytime Tsuzuki took a life, he cried. Tatsumi had to change partners. I think this is the reason why Tsuzuki always gives off the appearence of being happy: he is afraid of being abandoned.
I can't stand him when he's in pain either, but at least I can understand it and help him when he lapses into a fit of guilt and self-loathing.
What I didn't expect was for Tsuzuki to help me the same way. I was abused by neglect as a child. My parents thought my gift of empathy a curse, a notion I laugh at now, having been cursed. My parents didn't want anything to do with a "freak." I grew up not knowing love of any kind. At twelve I was raped and the curse placed upon my skin would kill me. The last four years of my life were agony.
It was because of the pain of not being loved I made myself apathetic. It became hard for me to express any emotion other than anger. I had made myself cold, perfering to feel nothing to pain.
But Tsuzuki managed to change that.
The first time he embraced me, I blew his arm apart. I admit, it wasn't very prudent, but back then my empathy was out of control, and touching just made it worse. At any given moment, Tsuzuki is either feeling worthless, guilty, or is hating himself. It was such a shock to feel those things, coupled with anger, that I couldn't help defending myself the only way I knew how.
Being dead, Tsuzuki healed within a few minutes, but while we won't die, we still feel pain. At the rejection his pain increased almost exponentially. He didn't eat anything sweet for a week. You have to know Tsuzuki to understand how bad that is.
I didn't let him touch me for a long time. I couldn't stand it! The constant bombardment of anger and guilt was driving me insane when he was within a few feet. If he had touched me I would have no choice but to blow another limb to pieces. But he respected me and never attempted to touch me after that. But he was so sad that he couldn't touch me. Though I don't like admiting it, I was sad that I couldn't be touched.
Then I realized what I had to do. If this partnership was ever going to be okay, I had to heal him. We had to heal each other.
I am the first partner he's had in his entire 70 year career who hasn't abandoned him. I am also the first person ever to love and except him for exactly who he is. He is the first one to care about me, romantically and otherwise.
When he really was about to kill himself for good, kill his given body and destroy his soul, I embraced him and told him that he couldn't leave me. I didn't realize it until he was almost gone, but our relationship went much beyond just a business partnership.
Time passed and my cold demeanor was finally being stripped away. It was small touches at first. I allowed him to touch me as long as it was only one contact point, like a hand on a shoulder, but only with one hand. Tsuzuki, though he was healing, still felt horrid guilt and pain, and I didn't want to feel it as well. If I was to heal him I had to stay with him, and if I felt what he did it would've driven me away.
A month or two passed, and that is when I let Tsuzuki hug me. I never told him but he understood that it would be okay. I'd asked him to come and watch the cherry blossoms fall. It was a very uncharacteristic move of me. I was raped under a pink rain of the blossoms and hadn't any taste for them at all. I would cringe and become weak in the knees when I saw them. Asking Tsuzuki was my way of telling him I was better. I've never been one for bluntness.
Tsuzuki figured it out after a few minutes of watching them. He took me into his arms and told me what his sister had told him about the symbol of the blossoms. Life, like the blossoms, was beautiful but short. He was suddenly afraid, as though he'd just realized he was touching me.
When I didn't fight him off, a part of him eased. He felt accepted, and his self-loathing ceased. It was almost calming being in his arms. After so much turmoil the calm was magnified. He hadn't been at peace since he was a child, a boy. Asato Tsuzuki looks 26, but he is a man of 100.
It had taken years, but we had finally healed each other. In that simple embrace among the blossoms we had finally found peace.