In those hours he watched the sky, the clouds, contemplated his life and the events of the last months, beginning from the moment Touda had been bound to Tsuzuki. It was how it had all begun, it had been the start of an avalanche of events. He had always been there, as an observer, as a helper, but never had he been a main figure until the day the devil had possessed Byakko and had created the false reality.
As the two days passed and Rikugo worked through his inner turmoil he found he needed to go back to the palace. He needed to explain. He hadn't wanted to abandon Ryu, hadn't wanted him to wake up to an empty bed and find nothing but a cold, rumpled spot. He needed the other man to understand the reasons.
So he went.
What he hadn't bet on was the emotion racing through him upon looking into those blood red eyes, glinting in the candle light. He hadn't bet on the slender figure in the formal suit that only enhanced the deceptive frailty of this body. He hadn't bet on his reaction to the gentle tenor as the Count smiled and greeted him.
"You're back."
Rikugo felt his breath catch in his throat, felt the words of explanation die as his brain sparked and sizzled, as he stood rooted to the spot while Ryu came closer.
A gloved hand cupped his cheek.
"Welcome," the Count murmured.
Rikugo couldn't help lean down, bring their lips together, lightly tasting the other man. He felt the reaction, felt Ryu lean closer to him, and he wrapped a careful arm around the narrow waist. Pulling him even closer he still left him the chance to disentangle them, to step away if he presumed too much, but part of him screamed to hold on, to never let go. He wanted this man.
Red eyes gazed at him, filled with something equally needy, hungry, and openly primal.
"Rikugo."
His name. It evoked goose bumps, it made him tremble with the need to take this man, close the door behind them and have his way with him.
And then his lips were sealed by a hungry mouth, and he responded in kind, forgetting all about explanations and regrets.
° ° °
Tsuzuki wasn't blind. He might be called innocent and child-like, but he wasn't blind. He especially wasn't blind to his shikigami, and currently he was watching one specific shikigami very closely.
Rikugo had slowly recovered from the broken, hurt being he had found in the farthest region of Meifu, which he had brought home and tried to help as best as he could. Tsuzuki knew he would never understand the depth of Rikugo's pain, but he had a good idea. His own partner had been the victim of rape and abuse, but in Hisoka's case it had been very real, and his tormentor hadn't been one of his friends; it had been Muraki. So yes, he understood part of it, but he couldn't imagine what it would be like for him should one of his friends think he had done such horrible things to him.
Rikugo was a very gentle being, though also quite powerful and dangerous. Still, he was caring, he had seen Byakko grow up, had been his friend and teacher, and to know that a devil had implanted such horrors into the white tiger's mind... Tsuzuki felt the need to comfort them both. He had no chance to visit GensouKai and he actually had no idea how to approach Byakko about the subject, but at least he could do something about Rikugo.
When his shikigami had started to show signs of improvement Tsuzuki had felt slight hope rise. Everyone knew Rikugo was here and Hisoka was in the front row when it came to Tsuzuki's worries and hopes. It was in those days of improvement that Tsuzuki noticed the smiles, the light in the black eyes, the spirit coming back out of hiding. Whatever Rikugo did, wherever he went, someone or something was helping.
So one day he followed.
And he was surprised to notice that the earth dragon was visiting the Palace of Candles. He did so daily, and Tsuzuki's confusion increased because Rikugo's relaxed state told him that whatever happened within those ancient walls, it was helping his friend. He doubted Rikugo was falling victim to any of the perverse pleasures that rumors had it the Count indulged in. Tsuzuki had been the repeated victim of a very... offensive approach. He usually claimed that Tsuzuki had to pay his debts with his body, but there had been no follow-ups to the threats. There had never been any approaches aside from the playful ones throughout their encounters.
Tsuzuki still remembered the talk the two had had after he had seen the illusion of Muraki throughout the masquerade. It had been a moment like he had never experienced before; a Count he had never seen before.
'You don't have to forget. People with a heart suffer from their darkness,' the Count had whispered softly, his voice warm and caring and so very empathic.
No cheerful exuberance, no sexual approach, no witty remarks. Just a gentleness that calmed Tsuzuki's upset mind, and an aura he had somehow recognized but couldn't name. He had felt safe, so completely safe. He hadn't fought the embrace of a man who had tried to grope him before, who had tried to get into his pants more often than not. He had sunken against the firm chest, heard the reassuring beat of a human heart, and he had let his mind clear of the darkness that had risen inside him.
Safe... he had felt safe... ensconced in an aura so familiar, all his guards had been down. He had been open and vulnerable, and the Count hadn't taken advantage of him.
'I want to see your beautiful face smile again,' he had said. 'You don't know what your smile means to me.'
No, he didn't. He had no clue as to who the man behind the mask was. Since that day he knew something else, though -- the man behind the mask was not the man they called the Count. For a brief moment Tsuzuki had caught a glimpse of the soul invisible to all...
... invisible...
... to all?
Maybe Rikugo had seen the same Tsuzuki suspected; maybe he had truly Seen.
Intrigued by the idea the shinigami went back to the Judicial building.
Then there had been the episode when he had been infected by the poison from a quickly killed devil. The Palace of Candles had been the quarantine unit because the poison was only infecting shinigami, and throughout the week he had spent there, Tsuzuki had caught glimpses unlike before. He had talked to the man behind the mask and he had been even more confused about him than before.
Who was he? What was the strange aura he always felt around the keeper of the candles?
There was only one way to find out.
° ° °
Tsuzuki had no idea if it had been a good choice to come here alone, though even with a friend or partner present there was no telling what the Count might do around him. No one else was approached by the masked man like Tsuzuki was. Having Hisoka or Tatsumi there was no guarantee for safety from groping hands, least of all from very direct sexual advances of a verbal kind.
So Tsuzuki was surprised when Watson led him into the winter garden and the Count greeted him in a jovial but very laid back way.
"May I offer you some tea, Tsuzuki?"
Violet eyes tried to bore through the invisibility shield and failed. He so wanted to look behind what protected this man from prying eyes.
Who are you?
That question burned through him more fervently than ever, because this was the man who had become a part of Rikugo's life. This was the man his shikigami had visited each and every single day, spending hours, maybe even a night, in the palace.
Tsuzuki wasn't blind at all.
He saw affection in those now bright eyes again. He saw warmth and maybe even love. He didn't know if it was love, but there was a feeling he knew. He had seen the same look in Tatsumi's eyes before he and Watari had gotten together. And he himself had probably looked the same way at Hisoka.
So... what if Rikugo and the Count had found something to share? An emotion?
Well, it made Tsuzuki curious enough about the man to try and get to know him better. Rikugo wasn't desperate, he wasn't looking for an easy adventure, and even if he did, why choose this man everyone only knew as a pervert as his bed partner?
It was what he was about to find out.
He took the offer for tea.
Not just once.
He came back time and again, and he began to discover more of the man underneath the pretense who started to fascinate him. That, and the familiar aura. It was there again, like back then in the room where the Count had comforted him.
'You don't know what your existence means to me.'
Who was he? Why did he feel so familiar?
'Life in this palace that is my prison isn't so bad as long as there is your smile.'
He had been alone with this man, completely and utterly alone, in his arms... Tsuzuki would probably have done everything in that moment, shell-shocked and in need of reassurance. The Count had done nothing but comfort him, hold him until the tremors had stopped. Tsuzuki's memories were sketchy of some moments, but he had been aware of the strong hands stroking over his back, a soft voice repeating the reassurances verbally, and the aura enveloping him.
Familiar.
So he came back again and again.
Like throughout the quarantine they talked, about daily matters, about cases, about whatever came to mind. The halting conversation of the first hours was soon replaced by a friendly atmosphere, one no longer permeated by sexual assault on all kinds of levels.
Tsuzuki didn't know what to make of the conflicting information.
And the mystery that was this man grew.
° ° °
Ryu was no fool. He was old enough to be wise, or insane, whatever hit first -- though insanity had been knocking on his door a few times in those millennia. Well, so maybe he was wise, but he doubted it. At least he wasn't stupid enough to believe in luck. A luck that brought him not only his first lover in so many centuries but also his secret desire.
Tsuzuki had been his fascination from day one. He had felt the young shinigami's arrival in Meifu, had felt the aura that, despite its youth, had already touched his, had caressed over his senses and announced someone he would desperately want to meet. And he had. He had met Tsuzuki Asato and had fallen for this loveable young man.
All his advances had been just to be near him, to see his face, his smile, feel the gentle energy waves that made up his presence. It was intoxicating, it was addictive, and he would never be able to get rid of this need to have Tsuzuki around him.
So now he was here, came here more often than within the last years, and they had tea together. They were actually talking, and there was nothing sexual about it. That was farthest from Ryu's mind. He had settled himself to the fact that he would have to live off the memory of having the young shinigami in his arms after the horror he had seen in one of the many rooms of the palace, but then there had been the fever raging through the lithe body, and he had had Tsuzuki to himself for a week. No cavalry to save him, nowhere he might run, but Ryu hadn't touched his guest.
It had been a wonderful time, filled with discovering that his humane side had not yet withered and died with the perversion, the insanity and the weight of being what he was. But even that week had to end and he had been alone again.
Until now...
...now Tsuzuki came here voluntarily.
So the question that arose was finally voiced out loud.
"Why are you here?"
Tsuzuki looked up from his cup and those wide, innocent eyes held an expression of utter confusion. They were a total contradiction to the man himself. Ryu watched the face for any kind of deception, but he found none. He never had before.
"Uh, because you invited me over?"
True, he had. He had told Tsuzuki to come by whenever he felt like it. He had never expected him to do so.
Ryu chuckled wryly. "You never came here voluntarily before, Tsuzuki. You never stayed more than you had to. You always evaded being alone with me. Why now?"
"I think it's time to get to know the man who has such influence on one of my friends," was the casual answer.
"Come again?"
Something inside the Count had frozen at the words, was shocked and tried to comprehend what the shinigami was telling him.
"Tell me, Count, what is it you feel for Rikugo?"
He had never been so glad to be invisible as he was now. All blood left his face and he knew his mouth was hanging open in shock.
"Rikugo?" he managed.
"My shikigami. Tall, blond, black eyes... you know him." Tsuzuki's eyes gave nothing away and were fixed on the mask. "He comes here often."
"To read," Ryu stuttered. "I mean, the library..." He stopped when the expression of the other man didn't change.
"Do you love him?"
He almost physically stepped back. No! No, that couldn't be real! He had to be dreaming!
"He comes here as a guest..."
"Because if you do," Tsuzuki went on conversationally, "it might be prudent to tell him. He's been not himself for a while now. I know he doesn't come here to read. There's more to you and him than just friends, too. My experience might not be the best, but I beat around the bush way too long, too."
Ryu shook his head, trying to collect himself. "Tsuzuki, you can't in all honesty believe that your shikigami would come here for me."
"Why not?" The question was so soft, so calm, it broadsided him, took his breath away.
He laughed awkwardly. "Why would such a proud being lower himself to be with a pervert?" he tried humor.
"Maybe because he sees what I'm starting to see after so many years."
He trembled slightly. No...
"Do you love him?" Tsuzuki repeated his question.
Ryu turned away. "You should leave before they miss you."
"Do you love him?" the younger man asked again.
"Tsuzuki..."
"Do. You. Love. Him?"
"Stop asking me what I can't answer!" Ryu yelled, anger rising.
Tsuzuki stepped back under the loud barrage and the Count inhaled shakily, looking into a pair of wide, violet eyes that completely disarmed him, drew him close.
"Please, stop," he whispered.
"Why? I think you love him. I think you feel something for him."
"No. I stopped feeling a long time ago."
Tsuzuki came closer, radiating empathy. "Why are you lying to yourself?"
Because it's easier than facing the truth, hoping for what I can never have.
"He might come here," Ryu said, almost to himself, "but he's not here to stay. Letting myself believe that will only hurt me in the end. I learned that in my life, my existence, Tsuzuki. I'm setting myself up for pain if I let him take a hold of me like this. Rikugo won't be here forever. It's only a moment in time; one day he will go out and leave, and not come back. I'm unable to go after him, and maybe it's better this way."
Tsuzuki's wide-eyed gaze of disbelief and pain hurt Ryu in turn and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his arms around the slender man, comfort him. But he didn't.
Look, don't touch. Tsuzuki was Hisoka's. Hisoka had found what Ryu wanted, what he needed, but he didn't hate the boy for it. Hisoka, like all of the shinigami, came from a painful past and whatever happiness he could find, it was for him.
Happiness is for other people, he thought dimly, smiling humorlessly.
"Rikugo isn't like that," Tsuzuki murmured.
"Maybe, but he's also not a being to be bound to this place. I am. I can't ever leave. My life is here. I can never see his world, be with him in his home. I can never be a true partner. He has to come to me, he can leave whenever he wants." The Count sighed softly. "Tsuzuki, accept it. Whatever there is for me, I will take it. It's more than enough, a gift I cannot refuse. I swear I will never hurt your shikigami. I couldn't."
Now he did reach out to touch that young face, unable to stop himself. Memories came back, of this body in his arms, of Tsuzuki leaning in for comfort.
"I would never hurt you."
Amethyst eyes met his, unable to see him, unable to discern the expression of soul-deep pain, but still Tsuzuki knew it.
"You should go," Ryu said softly, stroking over the smooth cheek. "Thank you for your company, Tsuzuki Asato."
It means so much more to me than you could ever fathom.
"May I come back?" the shinigami asked.
He laughed, the sound almost a sob. "Of course. You're always welcome here, my friend. Always."
I'd love to share my eternity with you, but you don't deserve this pain. All I ask is for your smile, Tsuzuki. Nothing more.
°
He stood at the window and watched Tsuzuki leave. His mind was whirling, his body shaking with the belated reaction to the words.
'Do you love him?'
The question resonated in his soul.
Yes, a voice whispered. Yes, I do. But there is no future for this emotion. There is no sense in it. He doesn't respond with the same feelings. I'm dooming myself, setting myself up to be hurt. And it will hurt badly.
He rested his head against the cool pane of the glass.
"Sir?"
The gravelly voice didn't so much as draw a flinch out of him. Watson had seen him all states and conditions. There was no secret, no lie, between them. Watson shared this punishment.
"Yes?"
"Do you want me to prepare dinner?"
Ryu gazed at the empty front yard. "No. I don't feel hungry."
"Very well."
And he was left alone.
Alone.
His punishment and his eternal sentence.
Ryu smiled wryly.