Wow, it's been such a long time since I've updated. Could it mean I finally have a life? :) Well, I'm back at school (for the 5th time!) and, what do you know, all the work doesn't leave me much time to spend on anything else. But I'll do my best.
As for this chapter, it's full of Hisoka. So Hisoka fans, knock yourselves out because I don't know when I will write so much about him again ;) (guess I'm making it up to him for the silly intermission) There's also Tatsumi, since a lot of you asked me to give you stats on him. Aside from those two, I think pretty much everyone else has an appearance here, including the shikigamis, and there's the undisclosed appearance of a secret character at the end of the chapter that will set the stage for the next one (hopefully coming soon!)
I got the spelling of the shikigamis' names from Theria.net. Besides that, I don't know jack about the shikigamis and their personalities or the whole GensouKai business. So that whole section is just a product of my own twisted imagination.
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The Trial – Chapter Nine
SohRyu sat on his throne and turned tired eyes on one flustered, fiery woman in front of him.
"So?" She asked.
"What?" he replied, "I told you, I don't know."
"And I told you I don't buy it."
SohRyu shook his head. It was the same argument. Countless times but same damn thing. Suzaku was such a piece of work. She wasn't the type who would take a simple yes or no for an answer and be done with it. She wouldn't back down with a glare either. How ever Tsuzuki managed to bind her to his command was beyond SohRyu's understanding.
"I haven't been able to feel him for days. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. That can only mean one of two things, either the Baka is dead or deliberately blocking us." The dark haired woman said.
"You're worried that Tsuzuki might be dead?" The emperor asked.
"No, actually, it's the second option that worries me. What kind of mischief could he be up to this time that he has locked us so completely out? And I mean completely. Because, it's like I run into the Great Wall every time I try to reach him."
SohRyu sighed, "Why should it be always some kind of mischief, Suzaku? Why can't you accept that Tsuzuki might want to take a break from us once in a while and go lie on the beach? He is your master, remember? It is not your place to question his decisions."
"Don't give me that nonsense, SohRyu," the phoenix countered, "You know as well as I do that Tsuzuki is never like that. He would NEVER cut his connection with us if he were happy. He always shares his happiness with everyone, especially with us. Remember that time when he finally made a breakthrough with his new, teenage partner? Remember how he came rushing here on a surprise visit just to tell us how happy he was to have made the boy smile? And we didn't even need that to know it because we had felt it the moment he did and were on an all time high way before he showed up. No, if Tsuzuki were happy, we would have been bouncing off the walls right now. His silence can only mean one thing. He's in trouble."
"I second that." A voice cut through the room before SohRyu could answer and they both turned to see the black and white stripes of one agitatedly moving tail and its owner, Byakko.
The young shikigami walked toward the throne and stood next to Suzaku. SohRyu was a little surprised to see that the usual bounce and impish smile were missing from the young man's demeanor. In fact, Byakko wore such a serious expression, for a second the emperor thought it wasn't him but his evil twin - if he had one. Judging by Suzaku's sudden quietness he could tell she had noticed it too.
Byakko faced the throne and spoke with a voice as solemn as his face. "I know what you know, Emperor. I heard most of it."
SohRyu's eyes widened. What was Byakko talking about?
Byakko saw the change in his superior and frowned. "You had a meeting with the two Powers, didn't you? Here, two weeks ago."
Suzaku looked at Byakko curiously before turning questioning eyes to her emperor. SohRyu was still silent. He truly didn't know what to say.
Byakko pressed on, "The two high Powers, Lord Mahorath and Lord Enma were here two weeks ago, weren't they? I was walking by the door and I heard voices. I heard what you were talking about."
"Silence!" SohRyu shouted angrily as he stood up, "How dare you confess to eavesdropping?"
Byakko showed the familiar smile with closed, contented eyes. "I was not eavesdropping. I told you I was just walking by. But then I heard Tsuzuki's name and I just couldn't let it be. In case you haven't noticed he's one of my best friends aside from being my master."
SohRyu was breathing heavily with hands fisted at his sides. Still, he was in a tight place unable to chastise Byakko for his devotion to his master.
"You gave them your consent to carry out their plan, didn't you?" Byakko said, "You said you wouldn't interfere. And as long as Tsuzuki wouldn't want to, you wouldn't allow any of us to interfere either. Isn't that what you said," he opened his eyes looking at him, "Golden Emperor?"
"Why, you..." SohRyu growled and brought up one tightly clenched fist.
Byakko remained unfazed. "You sold out our master, Your Highness, didn't you? At least that's how it seemed to me."
"Enough," Suzaku shouted, shifting eyes from Byakko to the emperor and back, "What is this all about? SohRyu, tell me what this is about." She was like a ball of fire ready to burst at any moment.
SohRyu sighed and sat back on the throne all anger and heat seeming to have drained out of him in that instant. He put his forehead on his hand with his elbow resting on the armrest and suddenly looked very tired. He was keenly aware of two sets of eyes looking at him expectantly.
The silence stretched. Byakko and Suzaku's gazes didn't waver, until finally…
"I didn't sell him out." SohRyu replied in a tired voice, "It wasn't my choice. I am only one piece in this elaborate, ancient scheme."
He raised his head and saw them still staring at him, demanding more explanation. Screw it all, he thought. They might as well hear the rest of it.
"It is true. I had an audience with the two Powers sometime ago. They came to discuss the issue of their contest with me."
"Contest? What contest?" Suzaku asked.
SohRyu turned to her, hesitant for a moment before he gave in and answered with an exasperated huff. "Contest... over who owns Tsuzuki. Whom Tsuzuki should succeed."
Both Suzaku and Byakko looked like they were hit on the head by an anvil. Sohryu had excepted that. Those foolish, fiery young spirits! Never looking at anything closer than a mile away.
"Did you youngsters ever ask yourselves how Tsuzuki managed to harness so many shikigamis on his own? This entire court, the palace and the emperor himself? Did you ever wonder how such a childish, happy-go-lucky slacker could be the most powerful shinigami in the whole Meifu?"
No answer.
"Tsuzuki is not an ordinary shinigami. He carries the blood of the highest ranking Makai demons called the Royal Descendants. The Descendants of Darkness. But that is not all. He is also a descendant of light because he also carries the mark of angles."
Blink. Two sets of surprised eyes turning into saucers.
SohRyu was himself again, proud in his lecture. He continued, "Our master is the child of both heaven and hell, a descendant of darkness and light. And as such, the highest powers on either side want him. Lord Enma had had the right over him for more than seventy years since his death. Tsuzuki became a shinigami because of his mixed blood. The hybrid nature of his being served to strengthen him since he could draw from both sides to his favor, yet the kind and gentle part was always prominent, making him a top ranking member of Enma's organization without him being even aware of it.
"Nonetheless, Tsuzuki's dark side started showing itself after the case with Sargantanas. The Makai general was destroyed but it only served to attract Makai's attention toward this low-paid, seemingly insignificant shinigami. Grand Duke Astaroth was the first to step forth, asking for Tsuzuki to take the position of Brigadier General in Sargantanas' place (1). It never happened because Mahorath ruled against it. He had seen Tsuzuki's potential and had much higher intentions for him."
Getting fed up with the explanations, Suzaku finally cut in and said, " Yes, all very interesting indeed. But what does that have to do with our current situation with Tsuzuki?"
SohRyu, uncharacteristically, didn't confront her for the interruption. He just shook his head. " The demon world has made its move. After seventy years or so Mahorath is beginning to wonder whether Tsuzuki is his real successor after all. But Enma isn't willing to let him go. The balance of dark and light is a very appealing trait. The two of them came here two weeks ago and told me about their dispute. They are settling it with a trial."
"What is that?" Suzaku snapped.
"I don't know exactly. I only know that it is some sort of test that determines whether Tsuzuki is more inclined towards the dark or the light. It's performed under the supervision of Mahorath's delegates and goes on for several days, weeks even, based on the delegate's judgment. What's more, Tsuzuki has to go through it alone; no one is allowed to interfere, not even the shikigamis."
Suzaku burst out in anger, "So, you're saying, right now, Tsuzuki is in the hands of Makai demons going through gods know what and all we are doing is sitting here on our hands doing nothing?"
SohRyu shot an admonishing glare towards her. "Suzaku! If our connection with our master is broken, it can only have been done so by Tsuzuki himself. It means our master does not want our intervention. If you have no respect for my rule or that of the High Powers, you should at least respect your master's wishes."
Suzaku was far from backing down by the mild reproach. She put her hands on her hips and countered, "Have you forgotten, SohRyu? This is Tsuzuki we are talking about. He would sooner go through the fires of hell than risk other people's lives, including ours. But I would have none of that. We are not called his protectors for no reason." She turned to go, speaking in the same audacious voice. "I don't care what you and the other 'Powers' have decided. I don't care if Enma and Mahorath want to tear each other apart over who owns Tsuzuki. But Tsuzuki is my master and I will protect him under any circumstances. Oh, yes, and did I mention I don't care about the circumstances?"
SohRyu didn't move, but his voice was piercing as he spoke. "You don't have to tell us that, Suzaku-neesan. We already know. After all, it was your lack of care that ended in his summoning of the Black Fire Snake and attempting suicide last time."
That stopped the phoenix dead in her tracks. With hooded, hate-filled eyes she turned to SohRyu, teeth grinding. It took her a while before she could get the rage under control and speak." I will never repeat that mistake again. I made that promise ions ago. So don't you slap that in my face now. I will, however, protect him with my life for as long as I am his. He can hate me for it, or dismiss me. I don't care. As long as he is well and alive."
SohRyu saw her turn and called after her. "But do you know whom you would be challenging if you went to him now? Are you willing to go against both Enma and Hell?"
There was no answer from the retreating form. The black haired woman just walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. Byakko sent worried glances from her to the emperor and back before he decided that it was probably the best if he took his leave too. He had taken only one step when SohRyu addressed him. "Go with her, Byakko. If another disaster happens you will be as much responsible as she is. Try to change her mind and if you can't, keep her at least away from things that aren't her business."
The fuzzy haired young man bowed nervously before disappearing out of the door, taking off in a run as soon as he was out of his superior's sight. He called out after Suzaku as he ran down Tenkuu's corridors. "Nee-san. Nee-san."
But even with SohRyu's words fresh in his ear and his threat as solid and real as a sword dangling over his head, Byakko had no intention of stopping her. Keeping an eye on her, yes. But only to follow the same path as she did to try and save their naïve and gentle master from whatever evil those bastards on thrones had planned for him.
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The rain had stopped – for now at least– but the trees were still dripping curtains of rainwater like magical fountains that would mimic the sky's performance after the original downpour was over.
Hisoka walked through the dripping trees toward the English-gardens and the clearing that surrounded the Castle of Candles like a ring on a jewel. He walked toward the building, knowing that he would eventually come upon the person he was looking for. His empathy told him that person was close, and empathy was usually correct in such situations when tension ran high and shields were rendered down to nothing. He spotted the other where he had expected, right in front of the castle's front face.
Hisoka approached cautiously. From the distance, he could see the figure standing next to a stone statue set on top of a short column. It was a perched gargoyle, wings tucked to its body and mouth open in the rictus of a muted cry. The base column wasn't tall, a little over half of Hisoka's height so Tatsumi, being the tall man that he was, was standing at equal height with the stony beast.
It took him a couple more steps to see that the other man was leaning on the stone. Leaning heavily. Hisoka's breath was stolen when he finally caught a clear sight of his superior and friend. The way the man's clothes were soaking wet. The way his body was sagging against the statue, right hand resting on a slanting wing, his entire right side literary slumped over the side of the effigy. His hair - usually combed in place and tidied like a poster for precision – was now in total disarray. A mass of tousled locks and wet strands either clinging to his forehead or sticking out in whichever direction they liked while spilling their droplets of still oozing rainwater on the already wet-beyond-repair business suit.
Hisoka stood a few feet away from the object of his attention and stared. The way he stood, Tatsumi's back was to him and the vibe he got from the secretary proved that the other man was too exhausted to use whatever Reikan powers he had to detect Hisoka. The boy used the time to prepare himself for when he would meet the man face to face.
He could see Tatsumi was shivering. It wasn't that obvious but Hisoka saw the faint trembles running up and down the taller man's body. How could this be? How could the strict and intimidating secretary of the Shokan division be reduced to this? The man who commanded thunder and lightning to rest and obey when he walked through the halls. The man who made the bravest, most powerful supernatural beings fold and tremble at his feet. How could this miserable, rain-drenched, hunchbacked figure be the same proud and powerful person?
It must be yet another dream.
Had it not been for his promise to Tsuzuki Hisoka might have left after that, or just stayed there until nightfall had forced him to leave. He wasn't afraid to face the other man. But it was just too painful an experience for the empath. He hadn't lied to Tatsumi when he had told him in the office to stay away from him, that his touch burned. It had only gotten worse now. And like before, it was coiled around a jumble of things...guilt, helplessness, and a reminder of the pain and suffering the one they both loved was going through.
Pulling together all the strength he could find in the recess of his numbed mind – fists balled at his sides- Hisoka closed the remaining few steps between him and the hunched figure and came to stand in front of him. He made himself look up, to meet the sapphire blue eyes and the tired, zoned out gaze he knew would be there.
It was worse than he expected.
"Tatsumi-san...!"
The cobalt eyes were closed, thick lashes shading drawn cheeks on the bowed head. The wet locks fell over the face but even so, Hisoka could see the worn out expression of a powerful being surrendering to his fate. It was a blinding contrast to the Tatsumi he used to know who seemed to shake the earth and zap the air with the sheer electricity of his power. A man the entire summoning division, perhaps even Konoe, feared and respected as if it were a law in Meifu.
"Tatsumi-san."
When the secretary failed to respond for a second time the younger shinigami decided to approach him. Hisoka took hesitant steps, eyes never leaving the shadowed face of the other, and finally got close enough to put a hand on Tatsumi's shoulder.
"Tatsumi-san, are you ok?"
The blue eyes opened. Dazed and incredulous. The secretary looked at him for a second before moving sharply, as if startled. He lost his grip on the statue and fell forward onto Hisoka, who caught him barely and fought to keep him upright with little success.
"Tatsumi-san. Damn…. It's only me, Tatsumi-san." He struggled under the weight of the barely conscious man before Tatsumi, at last marginally aware, grabbed hold of the mold-covered stone and pulled himself up, looking at Hisoka with clearer eyes.
"Kurosaki-kun. What--what are you doing here?"
Although Tatsumi had regained the control over his muscles Hisoka didn't dare let him go. He said, "I came here to see how you were doing, Tatsumi-san. Are you ok? You look--"
Tatsumi grabbed a stronger hold on the statue, knuckles going white, and pulled himself away from Hisoka. He straightened up – as best as he could – and turned a more composed, serious look towards his employee. Hisoka could tell he was desperately grasping for any remnants of his usual intimidating self and failing, betrayed by his trembling hands and the dark circles under his eyes.
"Kurosaki-kun. Go back to JoOhCho immediately. You are supposed to be on duty right now. What are you doing here?"
Even in the condition he was now, Tatsumi's death glare and stern chastising voice made Hisoka shiver inside. However, he refused to let it get to him. Lending back a supportive shoulder to an obviously straining body that looked ready to collapse at any time and putting the secretary's arm around his neck, the boy cautiously answered, "I'm sorry, Tatsumi-san. I promise I will go back to work soon. I just need to talk to you for a few minutes, if you don't mind."
Tatsumi's glasses glinted dangerously and irritably he tried to pull away again. The action, however, proved to be too much for his fatigued muscles as his legs folded and the momentum of his movement threw him against the column. He cursed at himself but was unable to stop sliding and dropping to the ground. He sat by the column with a bent head, hands fisting the grass around him and body trembling from tension.
Hisoka didn't offer any more help. He just stood there and looked at the sad picture with clouded eyes.
"Go away, Kurosaki-kun," he heard Tatsumi whisper, "You are not needed here. And I am not moving from this spot until those bastards decide to listen to me and acknowledge my presence."
Hisoka felt desperate. He was sad, weak and tired of seeing his close friends hurt. He knew Tatsumi loved Tsuzuki. Heck, everyone in the office more or less did. What he didn't understand – or expect – was to see the older man turned into a psychological mess because of Tsuzuki. Not even in Kyoto did Tatsumi lose his cool like this. Not even after Muraki kidnapped Tsuzuki after his plotting came to fruitation. In fact, Tatsumi was the one who led the pack of them to finally find the amethyst eyed shinigami. And in the end, Tatsumi was the one who'd pulled the two of them out of the fire without losing a grain of control. No, Tatsumi hadn't been a mess in Kyoto; he had been a savior.
It struck him then, the contrast between the two situations. Tatsumi had been the savior in Kyoto. Here...he wasn't sure what Tatsumi really was here. But he knew what Tatsumi desperately strived to be: The same thing. He was virtually killing himself over being the savior again.
Tatsumi the rescuer, the protector, the one who always stepped in to save his troubled friend and keep him from all the hurtful things in the world. Keep him from crying; even if it cost his own unshed tears.
On his knees, Tatsumi was fighting the same battle all over again. Or perhaps having the illusion of fighting it, and losing, and failing his friend. But he wasn't giving up, and in this one-track mission of defeating evil by out-staring it Hisoka was just another annoyance to him.
" I'm not here to annoy you." He said, echoing his thoughts as he reached down to help the secretary stand. "I'm sure the people in the castle already know you are here and taking a few minutes break from your vigilance wouldn't ruin your efforts. Please, Tatsumi-san. I really need to talk to you. Besides..." he hesitated, but seeing the icy stubbornness starting to return to the cobalt eyes he resigned to twisting the knife, "I promised Tsuzuki." He looked at the man whose arm was propped over his shoulder.
It was the magic word, as he had expected it to be. Hearing the last sentence Tatsumi paused. He was looking straight ahead, not at Hisoka. But Hisoka saw the change in his expression clearly, the fight leaving his face like a wisp of autumn wind. His weight on the younger shinigami's shoulder increased, and Hisoka saw the brown tousled head drop. He had consented, or perhaps surrendered, in the light of his exhaustion and no excuse left to fight.
"In that case..."
They walked to a more secluded area in the relative dryness of a small pavilion. Once again Hisoka had come with supplied, food and tea, and a blanket for the soaked man. He had left them here before he had ventured off to find Tatsumi. Now they both sat on the second blanket Hisoka had spread on the floor of the gazebo and sipped on hot tea poured from a canister. Tatsumi was wrapped in his blanket, tired and drawn; holding his cup like a lifeline. Hisoka had set his own cup to the side and was putting the food he had brought between them. 'I have turned into Meifu's official caterer,' he thought with bitter humor.
There were no sounds except for the usual rustle of trees and birds and animals chirping and squeaking around them. It was a strange composition, them sitting sullenly amidst all that lively nature, Hisoka thought that as he put the last items of food on the blanket.
"Tatsumi-san, have some dumplings. There's fruit too and--"
"Why did you come, Kurosaki-kun?"
Hisoka faltered. He sat back looking at his hands in his lap, muttering, "I wanted to know where you were. We haven't seen you since the day you left the office."
"And...?"
Hisoka finally looked up. "We need you Tatsumi-san. We miss you and need you. Things don't make much sense when you are not around."
Tatsumi stared at his tea and the steam that was rising in the air. "When I am not around...," contemplative. Quiet. Then suddenly, "Anything about Tsuzuki?" Sharp blue eyes fixed on Hisoka in a flash; so abrupt it took the boy off guard.
Hisoka found himself treading cautiously with his answer. "He--I saw him--once."
"How is he?"
Gods, this was not easy. Not with those twin azures piercing him even if he wasn't looking at them. "He was--all right, I guess. He's holding up."
"Kurosaki-kun."
Hisoka flinched at the serious tone and saw Tatsumi regarding him with the same expression he used often when he was scolding someone in the office.
"Don't lie to me, Kurosaki-kun. I'm not a child to be pitied." There was tiredness, even a bit of a plea, laced with the threat. Or he might have just imagined it. Hisoka was so tired himself.
So he let the façade drop. "He is put through a lot."
"More torture?" Even not looking, the dangerous spark in the blue eyes was hard to miss as Tatsumi filled in the words Hisoka was leaving out of his speech.
"All sorts of things." Hisoka said, taking a deep breath. He might as well say it. "I saw his nightmare. It was no ordinary one."
Tatsumi just stared. For a while it looked like he wanted to ask some things but couldn't decided what to bring up first. Until Hisoka turned his head and met the volatile blues with his sad greens.
"Tatsumi-san. You have known Tsuzuki for a while, haven't you? Did you know anything about his past, before he became a shinigami?"
It was Tatsumi's turn to look away. He remained silent for a while. Then, "Yes, parts of it. What exactly are you talking about?"
Fidgeting, Hisoka replied, "I was wondering about--if you knew--what happened that night."
"The night he went insane?"
"Yeah."
"Was that what the nightmare was about?" Tatsumi asked.
"Y...Yeah."
"Then you already know."
Hisoka blushed, yet he had to know the answer. "Tatsumi-san.…"
"Yes."
Hisoka peered at him. "Is that why Tsuzuki became a shinigami? Did he really kill all those people?"
"Yes, he did. And yes, that is why he was chosen to be a shinigami."
"But--but I thought only those who have strong connections with the living become shinigamis."
A shade of sadness passed over Tatsumi's face, an echo of the feelings he was hiding inside. "He was sentenced to become a shinigami to pay for those deaths."
Hisoka's hands tightened in his lap. *Sentenced*. To become a guardian of death and kill more. And Tsuzuki, of all people. Who harbored so much compassion in his heart for people and felt so much pain.
"Tatsumi-san. I think--I think there's more to this trial than we are told."
Tatsumi's eyebrows rose.
" I saw someone - a woman – in Tsuzuki's dream."
"A woman!" Tatsumi frowned as he turned to look at Hisoka. "What did she look like?"
Hisoka all of a sudden felt uncomfortable. "I don't know. She was kind of strange. Long blond hair, tall figure. Long black dress with gold hemming and flabby sleeves. And some kind of mantle over her shoulders. She looked like a sorceress, or something like that. If such a thing even exists."
Tatsumi seemed to ponder it for a while. "Did you notice anything else?" he asked.
"Yeah, I think Tsuzuki called her Ayaka."
Tatsumi leaned his chin on his hand. "Ayaka! Hmm, I haven't heard that name before. But the description you just gave resembles a demon from Makai."
"Demon? What kind of demon?"
"One that goes by the name of Nourian. I have only heard of her. She seems to be a master of illusion and manipulation."
"Nourian..." Hisoka sat back thinking about what he had just heard. Manipulation and illusion. That seemed to be what was happening last night. Tsuzuki himself was in the dream, and the woman was telling him to look at the scene, as if she was the one who had created it.
"If what you saw was real, Kurosaki-kun, then I must agree with you that something else is going on, involving Makai and demons no less," Tatsumi said while starting to rise onto his feet. "And that's exactly what I need to find out."
Hisoka's eyes followed him with concern. But Tatsumi seemed calmer and more in control after the small rest he had taken. Sometimes it astonished Hisoka as to how strong the older man was. There was something at the back of his mind, something he needed to ask his friend.
"Tatsumi-san?"
"Yes." He turned around to look at the boy still sitting on the floor while he pulled the blanket from his shoulder and started folding it in his arms.
"Tatsumi-san." Hisoka hugged his knee and looked down, suddenly looking very small and vulnerable. "How can I help Tsuzuki?"
Tatsumi's hands on the blanket stilled. "You've already done all you can, Kurosaki-kun. Don't beat yourself up about something you have no control over--"
"No, I mean overall. After--after what I saw happened that night--and what those men did too him before--. Tatsumi-san..." Bright green eyes turned upward to show sadness and a desperate plea to the only man that would understand it. "How can I help him bear that?"
A small, warm smile touched Tatsumi's lips. He bent down next to the hunched boy and put his hand on his back. "Just be there for him. Don't worry too much about it. You may not know it but you have already done so much."
Hisoka's eyes softened. "Really? You mean that, Tatsumi-san?"
"I really do." Tatsumi stood up. Full of determination and looking straight at the castle now. Despite his averted eyes he addressed Hisoka again.
"Finding you might have been the best decision I ever made regarding Tsuzuki-san." He said in a quiet voice before starting to walk away and missing Hisoka's surprised expression.
Hisoka wanted to follow Tatsumi. But the will was simply not there and some voice in the back of his head told him to stay. He just watched as the tall man traced his way back to his post and stood there, still as the statue he rested his hand on. He didn't question Tatsumi's motive, or the effectiveness of the way he had chosen in his battle. He knew Tatsumi and Tatsumi was a man who, in the end, would get what he want. Even if it meant sanctioning himself in front of people who intended to ignore him. There were many powerful beings in Meifu but none had the resilience and the headstrong determination of Seiichiro Tatsumi. Hisoka felt inwardly contented that he had him as a friend and even more happy that Tsuzuki had him for a strong and passionate protector who cared for him so much. It meant that Hisoka could worry less about being the only one who had to support Tsuzuki with his present perils and his memories of a dark and troubled past.
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Later that afternoon Hisoka was in the cafeteria pouring himself a cup of tea and reading a book. The place was empty as most shinigamis were on the job. He was so deep into the third chapter while putting the lid on the cup that he didn't hear the soft click of the door behind him. Only when someone reached around and took the book out of his hand did he look up, his stomach flip-flopping instantly at the sight of whom it was.
Isorou flipped through the book quickly, then turned the cover to check the title. He was as casual as any other coworker, dropping by to say hi and checking out his colleague's latest read.
"Hmm, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King! Sounds interesting. Don't remember reading that."
Hisoka opened his mouth to say something but found his voice gone. Whether it was from fear or the rising anger he couldn't tell. He pretty much felt like a prey caught in the mouth of a giant spider (2).
Isorou put the book down on the counter behind Hisoka and leaned forward with his hand on the same counter. The way he stood, he was effectively trapping the boy.
"Tell me something, kid."
Hisoka found himself sending a quick look towards the door. Isorou followed it amusedly before turning back. "Don't look for someone to come and save you. There is no one here. I've been waiting a long time to have this conversation with you. You and I alone. You won't be going anywhere." To emphasize his point he leaned even closer, almost touching.
Hisoka tried to get his nerves under control and remain calm. He grabbed unto his anger, his hatred for this man, yet he couldn't stop his eyes from flickering toward the door constantly.
"I see." Isorou smiled, his voice going down to a purr, "So that was his function to you. Someone who'd come and rescue you whenever you got yourself into a wedge. Interesting." He raised his hand and stroked a cheek, drawing the back of his fingers down the side of Hisoka's face in a caress, making him instinctively shiver and pull back despite the way he was trapped.
"Is that how you two got close? Was it because he saved you so many times that you fell for him so deeply? Is that why you feel so much guilt over not being able to save him now that the situation is reversed?"
It was too much. With strength he didn't know he had Hisoka shoved the taller man aside and stepped away. "Don't fucking touch me."
In a blink of an eye Isorou was back to his icy stuck-up self, folding both arms over his chest and staring dangerously at the young boy. "Watch your tongue. I am the one issuing orders here. Unless you want to join your friend."
Hisoka's breath hitched from the magnitude of his fury, barely restraining himself from attacking the other man and strangling him to death.
"Don't--don't even try pulling that shit with me again. Your threats--they're getting so God damned old."
"Ah, really? And you aren't afraid anymore?" Fast as a cobra he was on Hisoka again, this time grabbing him by both wrists and bodily shoving him against a table.
"Let go." Hisoka yelled.
"Not until I have disciplined you enough to understand the meaning of respect." Isorou barked, pushing the boy's hands back and pressing them onto the table. He locked eyes with him.
"Twice you broke the law with me. Twice. And I let you get away with it. And then last night you breached his dream and even tried to talk to him. When I said stay away I meant body and mind." He squashed the hands he was holding further onto the table until the boy let out a cry.
"Do you know what he is doing right now?" Isorou's voice had dropped to a hiss, a menacing one, "I think I should tell you because it might shake your conscience a little. He has been under the rain for the past two days. I guess you already knew that, didn't you? He is now wet as a mouse and can't stop shivering. Then again, that's what he had been doing the entire time. And he is beginning to appreciate my authority even more, unlike you. Do you know that he asked – no, begged – me for a break the other day? Do you know that he called me Isorou-sama when he did that? See, with the right incentive, everyone will come around."
Hisoka was trying to pull his hand away when blinding rage hit him like a slap in the face. Unwisely he lashed out, freeing a hand and swinging it to strike the other on the head before the wrist was once again caught and pinned to the table. Panting, Hisoka raised his head to see Isorou's face very close.
And spat in it.
"You are lying. Tsuzuki would never do that, NEVER. You're just saying that because you have this sick hobby of playing with other people's emotions."
Isorou went still, his face only inches away from Hisoka. He had a mad look in his eyes, as if he couldn't believe someone would be so bold as to actually spit at him. The spittle on his face slid down his cheek and dropped from his chin. For a moment it seemed like they were both holding their breaths, waiting for the other to react.
Until Isorou finally did.
His mouth curved up in a dangerous parody of a smile, slow and malicious like a snake curling. He pushed Hisoka's left arm toward his right and trapped both hands behind the boy's back with one of his much larger ones. The free hand then came up to trail a caressing touch down Hisoka's face and neck. Despite himself, the boy trembled at the touch. He felt powerless against this new, nauseating change of behavior.
"You know, now that I look at you up close, I can see what I had been missing so far. You have fire in you. And you are indeed beautiful. Even more so when you are angry."
Hisoka increased his struggle but Isorou casually brushed the tip of one finger across his forehead and Hisoka felt himself freeze. He couldn't tell whether it was a spell or his own, frightened reaction to what the man was doing to him but no matter how much he tried he couldn't unclench his muscles. Panic escaping his tight reign to reflect in his green eyes, he stared at the man towering over him whose eyes now had turned from stern to lustful. The only response his body would give was a shudder.
Isorou continued stroking Hisoka's cheek, now moving their bodies closer so that they touched in several places." I was wondering why that doctor had shown interest in you. It bewildered me, seeing that you were basically a brat. But now I can tell. You're the type who just begs to be molested, stained, shown the true meaning of submission, like I did with your lovely friend with the purple eyes. He finally surrendered to me you know, like you surrendered to the white doctor."
Hisoka's teeth had begun to chatter. "Who--how--do you know--'bout Muraki?"
"How? Why, a friend told me about him."
"Lie...you do--n't have --friends." Hisoka managed between pants and the clatter of his teeth.
"I DO have friends." Isorou growled as his hands tightened on him to a level that caused pain. Like a ball dropping his mock gentleness disappeared to be replaced by something even more dangerous. He pushed Hisoka further onto the table, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and bending him backwards while shoving his own scrunched up, angry face into Hisoka's field of vision.
"Don't ever dare say anything about my friends. I have many. I have good ones. I might not be as ridiculously popular as Mr. do-nothing out there but I command respect, and I don't consider having clowns like you shinigami as friends an asset."
Isorou's hand went from his collar to his throat, closing around and squeezing hard, but it took Hisoka a few seconds to realize the pressure wasn't the only thing causing his asphyxiation. The moment those angry fingers touched him he was knocked over by the sheer power of the sensations surging into him. Emotions, turmoil, images and painful reminiscence...filling every inch of space around him like the waters of a lake he had plunged into.
Isorou...Hisoka was seeing him...on his knees, tied to a tree, or something scary that looked like a tree. Weird outfit, not neat and tidy as usual but shabby, disheveled and...torn.
There was a huge shadow obscuring Hisoka's view, not a clear form but the outline of a bulky, masculine body. A beast's body. Towering over the man. Hisoka couldn't see too clearly but he was stunned at the sight of Isorou's frightened, vulnerable eyes before they were hidden behind the shadow. It was evil. The whole scene reeked of hate and betrayal and sick enjoyment of pain. Even without seeing, Hisoka knew this was a demon set on torturing the fallen man. The scream that resounded in his head a moment later confirmed it.
He was pushed away with enough force to topple over the table and the chair behind it and fall head first to the ground. It was a good thing that his senses kicked in the last moment to make him raise his arms and avoid impact to his scull. He lay on the ground, dazed, wondering what had happened.
He had seen something inside Isorou's mind, something he should not have. He sat up shakily to look at Isorou standing several feet away, breathing heavily with a look of shock on his face.
"Y-you--went through the--trial!" Hisoka said.
Isorou's eyes stayed on the boy. It was clear that he was fighting to get his reaction under control. With obvious effort he calmed his breathing but couldn't get a word out before Hisoka's next incredulous declaration.
"You were a shinigami. Just like us. And you were sentenced to the trial." The revelation was as astounding to Hisoka's own ears as it was in the way it reflected on Isorou's face. The man actually took a step back, staring at Hisoka like he was a newly discovered alien species. But, true to his character, he regained his bearing fast.
Which meant his shock turned into anger in an eyeblink. Hisoka barely had time to get on his feet before the prosecutor went for him with unleashed fury. Hisoka was still confused but forced his mind to dispel the fog and get himself under control. It was a matter of life and death now, as Hisoka saw no awareness in the smoldering gray eyes. Isorou was coming for the kill and Hisoka had no choice but to dodge the attacks and hope for a rescuing intervention from the heavens.
It finally came in the form of a lasso looping around Isorou's waist and pulling him away just as the madman had managed to tackle Hisoka and pin him to the ground. Isourou's hands were on Hisoka's throat once again when, seemingly out of nowhere, a rope looped around him and lifted him off the boy. Hisoka breathed a sigh of relief as the weight was taken off of his chest and he took deep gulps of air, staying there for a while to get his breathing and trembling limbs under control. After all the events that had happened around him in the space of a few minutes he felt both physically and psychologically drained to want to move just yet. He was still too much in awe of what he had discovered to guess or even care who his rescuer was.
That was when a tall figure with wavy golden hair and amber eyes appeared over him, a small feathery creature flapping close to his left shoulder.
"Watari-san."
The scientist reached a hand to help him off the floor and said, "So sorry, Bon, I was careless. I should have known you were alone here with him. Of course that monster would attack you with no one around. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. What happened to Isorou?" Hisoka asked as he dusted his clothes.
Watari frowned, "I don't know. I came in and saw him attacking you and did the first thing that came to my mind, which was to draw a lasso - on a napkin no less – and give it life to catch him and pull him off of you. But then, even before I could fully dissolve the magic, he untangled himself and stormed out of here. I can sort of guess why he would want to attack you, Bon, but for the life of me I can't think of any reasons why he would run away so fast."
" I can." Hisoka said quietly, busying himself with putting the tipped-over table and chair in place.
Watari's eyebrows knotted. "You can? What do you mean?"
Hisoka shook his head. "Let's go to a more private place, Watari-san. There's something I need to tell you." With that, he turned to pick up his book that Isorou had abandoned on the counter and walked toward the door exiting the cafeteria.
Watari stood there for a moment not knowing what to make of this all. What did Hisoka mean by saying he understood the prosecutor's odd behavior? What had happened between them before Watari had showed up to rescue the boy? Wasn't Hisoka supposed to be more upset coming out of the shock of the evil man's attack? What was this sudden need for chatting about?
Watari scratched his head and called to 003 to sit on his shoulder. Seeing as he wouldn't get any of those answers by simply standing there, the amber eyed man set out to follow the empath to his chosen place where they could sit in private and talk about what happened hoping that the boy's explanation would shed some light on what right now seemed to him like a big, complex jigsaw puzzle with the pieces scattered all over the place.
----------------------
Cool, comforting hands touching his cheeks, raising his rain-damped face up in a silent request that he would open his eyes and look. He didn't - couldn't - for a while, before one soft hand moved over his eyes to coax them to open. Tsuzuki tried, lifting heavy lids to the sky, and saw plum eyes framed by silky blonde hair and a white robe flowing around a slender, feminine body. Hovering above him was a sad, concerned face that looked at him like a mother would look at a sick child. The hands on the sides of his face holding his head were gentle, like the sweet caress of butterfly wings.
He couldn't bear it. He had to close his eyes again. He couldn't bear the lie in those beautiful, gentle eyes. Not when the memory of cruel accusations in front of a screen full of flashbacks was still fresh in his mind.
"Tsuzuki-san, please look at me." The woman said in a soft voice.
Tsuzuki tried to pull his head away. But his weakness didn't allow him to break the hold of those petal smooth hands.
"Leave me alone, Ayaka. I can't stand it anymore," he said.
Ayaka didn't let go. Insistently, she turned his head back to her even though the lavender eyes remained closed.
"Please, Tsuzuki-san. I have something important to tell you."
Tsuzuki's eyes opened into wary slits. "What else do you have to say that you haven't already the last time you were here--tormenting me?"
That caused Ayaka to drop her hands. They fell to her sides and an expression of true sadness filled her eyes. "I--I didn't torment you."
Without the support of the woman's hands, it took Tsuzuki only a second to drop his head. He didn't care that he couldn't see his companion anymore. He was in too much agony for that.
"Really? Funny, it seemed otherwise to me." He whispered bitterly.
"T--that-- wasn't me."
Fueled by anger, Tsuzuki painfully raised his head just to look the woman straight in the eye. The effort caused his eyes to tear up - or was it the feeling of betrayal? – yet he didn't pay it any attention. "I saw you," he said, "You talked to me. You even addressed me by name. How can you deny it? You forced me to relive the worst hour of my life." The tears came down to stain his cheeks and no matter how much he tried he couldn't keep the sob out of his voice.
Ayaka looked away, holding her hand to her lips as if trying to suppress her own sobs from escaping. After a while she turned back, calmer, and said, "I can't explain to you what happened then. I can't tell you how sorry I am and that it truly, honestly, wasn't the real me that hurt you so bad. I just hope that someday you'd understand."
Her hand returned to caress and wipe the tears from his cheeks. Like a magical touch, it soothes his hurts away and for the first time, Tsuzuki realized that it wasn't as unbearable as it had been before. Perhaps his body had gone numb and didn't feel the pain anymore. Or perhaps it was another trick from the woman in white. Whatever the reason, Tsuzuki wasn't in the shape or mood to question. He had been in so much pain in the past several days that the absence of it – be it just a small part, be it a trick – was enough to make him sigh in relief.
He was however surprised when he opened his eyes next – after his expression of ease – to see Ayaka's eyes filled with tears.
Her hands continued their comforting caress, but her voice was full of sorrow when she spoke.
"Be prepared, Tsuzuki-san. Be strong. Something terrible is coming."
Tsuzuki couldn't suppress his half-attempted laugh. "Something terrible? Could it be worse than--?"
The hands grabbed his face and turned it to look at her intense gaze. She nodded soberly.
Tsuzuki lowered his eyes. "I--don't care. I'm already done for."
Ayaka let go. She walked away, stopping after a few steps and turning to look back at the bound shinigami.
"Be strong, Tsuzuki. You can make it through this. Remember one thing: Nightmares are illusions. They can touch you and surround you, hurt you in ways you couldn't imagine. They can show you your most horrible dreams, your most painful memories or most desired wishes. But illusions know nothing about feelings, they don't cry, and they don't bleed."
She walked off after that, leaving Tsuzuki to flounder in his confusion. He stopped thinking about the meaning of those words soon after she disappeared and simply basked in the small comfort the temporary ease of pain afforded him. He let his head fall again and rested his weight on his arms taking some of the tension off of his knees. After so many days, he had somehow found ways to balance the hurt and make it less cutting. Letting his eyes shut, he tried to find the small place in his mind where he liked to run off and hide whenever life became too unbearable. His own little comfort zone.
It was then that he heard the well-known swish of the long coat, the signature steady footsteps and the rustle of cloth that heralded a familiar approach. Permanent residents of his most recurring nightmares. He didn't look up; willing himself to believe it was another dream. The footsteps got closer, clearly stepping on wet grass now. Real wet grass.
He still didn't open his eyes. Not even when soft, cold hands – white hands, hands he knew from a time he had spent in shock induced numbness – lifted his face to the unseen visitor. He started shaking like a leaf, not wanting to see, not wanting to know it was there. But who could forget that silky smooth touch? That thrilled hiss of exhaled breath at finding a treasure sought after for so long? That brush of expensive sleeve-fabric against goose-pimpled flesh?
He didn't want to see. He didn't want to know. He wanted it to be not true.
/Something terrible is coming./
"Hello, Tsuzuki-san. It is so nice to see you again."
He couldn't deny it any longer. Not after that suave, velvety voice reached his ears and filled his universe in a multitude of echoes. Tsuzuki opened terrified, hopeless eyes to the one looming above him in an unfocused gaze.
His vision filling with pure white.
Tbc.
(1) Manga, Volume 4 "Saint Michel"
(2) The LOTR fans will get the reference (even if I myself am not one;) )