I'm so so sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. I had told myself never to do what some of my favorite authors did to me: leaving their readers in the middle of a story without updating it for a long time. But the past few months had been a roller coaster for me. I had so much work to do, school projects and household chores and my boyfriend and you name it. On top of that I started seriously playing FF7 and that took another chunk of my time and…well, you know the rest.
It was because of the reviews that I returned. To all of my faithful reviewers – especially those few who reviewed the story way after I had abandoned it – I say thank you. You are the reason why this story keeps going on, and why I again took interest in it. Please keep doing what you do so well and I promise you not to slack off ever again ;)
And now, here is a summary of what happened so far:
"Tsuzuki is still in the clutches of Isorou. Meanwhile Hisoka and Watari discover that Ayaka has a double personality and that's why she is sometimes nice and sometimes evil. Her evil personality is a Makai demon named Nourian who has the power to make people see things that don't really exist. Tatsumi faces off against the phantom servants of Isorou and just as they are about to take him away from where he had been lobbying in front of the Castle of Candles Watson, the Earl's disfigured butler, shows up and tells him that the Earl has granted him entrance to the castle and is ready to see him."
This chapter is most likely one of my least favorite chapters of the entire story, possibly because it has everyone in it except for Tsuzuki (maybe that's why it took me so long to write it shrug) But the events of this chapter are essential for the resolution of the story and for understanding the plot since most of it is revealed here. I hope you like it and stay with me later for the stunning conclusion of The Trial :)
The Trial--Chapter Eleven
The woman in white hesitantly made her way into the room where all the lights were turned on, even the lampshade on the tiny corner table. It didn't surprise her, knowing who the occupant was. She walked far enough to see the man sitting at a table in the middle of the room, deeply into reading a document. The man didn't make any moves to acknowledge her presence. She stopped and saw him absently reach for the lamp on the table - the only one that wasn't on - and click it. Still nothing strange. She'd known him for enough time to be witness to almost all of his natural and unnatural habits. Better than anyone, she knew how the man hated darkness; he fought it with all he had from lamps to daylight. She knew all of it. About him, about darkness, about the fear that resided inside the heart that seemed to have been calcified a long time ago.
"Hng…" she started but her voice caught in her throat.
"Speak your mind, Ayaka. I'm sure you can see I'm busy right now so make it quick." Isorou didn't take his eyes off the page he was reading.
Ayaka took a deep breath to steady her nerves and then said, "Isorou-san. Ano…I was thinking…uh…"
"You were thinking what?" Isorou turned to her, impatient and annoyed and all of it showing on his face.
Ayaka got even more nervous and looked down, biting her lip. Now she was fumbling with the sash of her robe. "I was thinking that maybe – maybe it's enough. I mean, with that shinigami--" she looked up, "Don't you think it is enough?"
Isorou didn't respond, just kept looking at her. Ayaka's lips quivered before the silence and the intensity of his gaze made her go into a rant. "I mean, it's been more than a week. He's held out so long. He passed all the tests and didn't break not once. None of the other trials had run this long, you know. I guess what I'm saying is that…that maybe he has a pure heart, and a kind soul, more suitable to be the next in line of Enma instead of Lord Mahorath --"
"What the hell are you talking about, Ayaka?" Isorou cut her off.
Ayaka stopped, as if the words themselves had died in her throat. With a sharp inhale bordering on a gasp she closed her mouth and withdrew onto herself. The burst of confidence she had gotten through Isorou's slight show of attention evaporated like smoke in wind causing her to once again drop her head and play nervously with her sash.
"When did you come up with those ingenious conclusions?" Isorou barked at her, "Since when do you meddle in Makai's business, Ayaka? You think you have a say in this? Didn't I tell you this matter did not concern you?"
The white clad woman winced at Isorou's tone, rising higher in volume as he went on. However, she still lifted her head and looked at him after his yelling fit.
"B-but… I've seen him. He is so innocent and kind and…"
"DAMN IT!" Isorou shouted. "Don't you listen to anything I say? It doesn't matter what you think. You are invisible, intangible, an insignificant fly I would have smashed long ago if it weren't for 'her'. Now look at you dare giving me your opinion." He reached forward and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling it forward to stare right into her eyes, "Get it, woman. You don't have the right to one."
She whimpered but didn't say anything. All the fight was drained out of her and a lump was rising in her throat at witnessing her weakness. She didn't want to be weak; she didn't want to be afraid of this man. But she was only half a person and the power the other half held over her was too great to allow her a decent fight.
As if reading her thoughts Isorou's face took on a slightly gleeful, fully malicious expression. His eyes raked over her face, drinking in the desolation and fear there, deciding on the next attack in order to cause maximum pain.
"I see. You have been around for too long, haven't you? It's time you to take a little rest., my angel. Let your sister play for a while."
Ayaka's eyes widened, taking an even more desperate hue. Still staring the gray haired man in the eyes she started begging. "Please, Masaki-san, not yet. I need to--my sanity -- please Masaki-san. Not yet."
But as if the words themselves shriveled and dissolved around the cruel, coldhearted presence, her pleading produced no effect in the gray eyes that continued to stare intently at their captive. Ayaka's voice died, her body frozen in the grip until all life appeared to extinguish from it, to be replaced by another. Slowly, the purple brown color of the eyes changed into a fiery red. The lips that were still quivering in the aftermath of her pleading stilled, and then their corners slowly turned upward. A breath, almost like a sigh, exhilarating for sure, escaped from between them. And the face which had gone slack a second ago came alive, contorting into an off colored smirk that made the woman look trashy for the lack of a better word.
"You can let go now, Masaki." She whispered in a voice much different from the one heard from her before: raspy, shrill, confident with an edge of challenge.
Isorou did let her go then.
"Hi, Nourian." He said flatly.
She wiped her hands on her dress and tidied her hair in annoyance. "You could go a little easier next time. I'm still using this body, you know." She then turned and gave him a grin, mocking a cute pose. "Thought you'd never call. What's up with you and being so scatty?"
"I told you, you shouldn't depend on me for gaining control. I'm only a means for necessity. If you can't hold on to a body in contest with someone as pathetic as her, maybe you should stay asleep more often."
The woman, "Nourian", pouted. "Maybe you should shut up and let me see what I'm doing barely two seconds into the world."
She fumbled with her hair a little more and then looked down at her body. Her hand moved down to grab a fistful of her dress. She shook the fabric in anger, "White again? She won't give up, will she?"
Isorou shrugged and went back to his reading. "If you want to get changed, please do so quickly and come back. We have a lot to talk about."
Nourian, who was leaving, looked over her shoulder and said, "A lot to talk about? You mean about that shinigami again? What is it this time? 'How to make the shinigami remember what a terrible cook he is and make everyone eat a sample of his food?' I mean, you are pretty much running out of ideas."
"Shut up and go change. I'm not here to listen to your jibes."
Nourian made a face and huffed before flinging her hair and walking out of the room.
--------------------------
Tatsumi walked the tall corridor that lead from the entrance of the Castle of Candles to the Earl's private quarters, his back painfully straight and his eyes on the back of the hunchbacked butler he followed. He felt elated that his weeklong picketing had finally paid off and was repeating the things he wanted to say to the Earl over and over in his head. Finally the butler stopped at a door and cracked it open softly, peaking inside. Receiving some kind of confirmation, the dwarf/zombie-like creature opened the door completely and gestured for Tatsumi to enter. The tall secretary passed the threshold into a room that looked like an office with wall shelves filled with books and a desk facing the door that had a mask and two folded, gloved hands hovering above it. He recognized them immediately and opened his mouth to speak, but then the room got very dim and started to tip at a strange angle. He wondered what was happening when all of a sudden he realized he was looking at the ceiling with a shriveled, disfigured face hovering above him. It seemed like he was lying on his back on the floor even though he couldn't remember how he had ended up there. He wanted to comment on the funny situation and apologize but his mind didn't want to work. His brain was fuzzy and darkness was closing in around him fast. Before he knew, it swallowed him up whole and he fell into the blissful state of unconsciousness.
--------------------------
Nourian was in her customary black gown when she came back to Isorou. She also had her hair tied with many strings and bows. "You know I might cut it real short some day." She said as she fumbled with one of the threads, "it's worth just to piss her off." Her face was shining like a naughty kid as she straightened up in front of the man. "What do you say, Masaki-san?"
Just like before, Isorou chose to completely ignore her, looking over the stuff he was reading. She pouted but didn't say anything. Instead she stretched forward to take a peek at what he was reading. Isorou finally looked up, glaring at her, which made her jump back and frown likewise. "What's with the attitude? You're pissed at Ayaka, you don't take it out on me."
Isorou gritted his teeth. He looked away shaking his head. "You're such a thickhead. Too bad I need you or else I would have dropped you somewhere no one would find and be harassed by your stupidity."
"Oi, watch it." He looked back and saw fire in the dark angel's eyes. She had also obtained a glow around her and her hair was starting to rise and float in the air. An instinctive reaction to her anger, Nourian was on the verge of entering full demon mode. Isorou closed his eyes, frustrated, and whispered. "Yes, damn it all to hell, but I still need you."
As soon as it started, the anger in the burgundy eyes died down. Nourian's hair fell all around her once again and her face got her mischievous grin back. "But I can't really be mad at you, Masaki-san. You're such a sweetheart." She clucked, half mocking.
"Just be quiet." Isorou growled.
"I said watch it, grumps. Now tell me what's the plan."
---------------------------
Tatsumi awakened to the aroma of fresh tea. He was lying on a couch in a large, richly decorated room, one of Earl's many guestrooms he assumed. Holding a hand to his forehead he sat up and stared. There was a wall to his right, decked with the castle's typical purple wallpaper. To his left he saw the expanse of the room and the round, mahogany table where the tea was being served. There was only one person sitting at the table if you could even say that, since a mask and two gloves being counted as a full person entirely depended on the observer's personal judgment.
The mask was drinking tea.
Tatsumi watched the Earl's calm veneer carefully. The anger he had felt so many lifetimes ago when he had first come to this place and was denied entrance flooded back to him like a tsunami. How could the man be so calm and drink tea knowing what was happening to Tsuzuki? How could he not care after having chased and pestered the purple-eyed shinigami with his unwanted attention so many times? He opened his mouth to voice his thoughts but his parchment-dry throat only allowed him a cough.
His host looked up. It was hard to tell whether he had already been aware of his wakefulness and waiting for him to speak first or that the noise had brought it to his attention. Watson, who was also in the room, showed up at Tatsumi's side, offering him a glass of water.
"How long have I been lying here?" he rasped, taking small sips.
"Just a few hours. You needed the rest so we didn't wake you up. Now you need something to eat." The Earl replied.
The glass was taken from him and a plate of bite-size snacks was offered. As much as Tatsumi wanted to refuse he couldn't fight the painful protest of his stomach. He picked one up with as much repulsion his watering mouth allowed him to fake. He took a small bite and was lost in the rich taste of it. Soon he had dropped all pretence of pride and was devouring the whole plate rapidly, licking his fingers and acutely aware of how low he had sunken from his usual elegant stance and how the Earl was watching all of it with careful attention. 'Damn him to hell.' He thought, 'It's all his fault anyway.'
When it felt like he'd gotten some of his strength back Tatsumi started to rise, and action that soon proved to be a bad idea since the room swayed and spun around him, forcing him back to the couch.
"I suggest you stay put for a while. You've been standing out there for so long you've lost a lot of blood circulation to your brain. A human would faint and fall down in such conditions. It's true that you are a shinigami but you are still vulnerable to extreme exhaustion."
"What? You're saying I'm bedridden?"
"No, but you are the closest a shinigami can get to something like that. Those snacks you just ate will help you, but the magic in them requires time."
Tatsumi fell quiet. He just stared at the other creature, his tired expression and haunted pale face giving him the aura of a lost child. The age and standing of the room's other occupant made it the more prominent.
Silence stretched between them. There was no way to read the Earl's face as he sipped on his tea. He had no face to start with, but the calmness in the movement passing from glove to mask showed a mountain of patience. Their experience together in the past days had proven to Tatsumi that the Earl was nothing if not a patient man. Oh, he had learned that the hard way for sure. Now he was just tired, too tired to continue the waiting game.
So he spoke. "Why did you let me in?" That was a good question to begin with. Simple and to the point, if not the point he had initially intended.
"You were dying out there." The Earl's answer was as simple. He knew the game well.
"Why now? Why not sooner?" Tatsumi continued.
"I never thought it would be so long."
"You underestimated me." Tatsumi's voice was laced with an absurd but desperately needed pride.
"I guess I did." The Earl replied.
The mask had turned, looking in his direction.
"So what now?" Tatsumi whispered, going back to the lost child mode.
The Earl shook his head, "You're the one who came here to see me. Ask the question you've been waiting to ask for so long."
Tatsumi stared. He didn't know what to say. All of a sudden, he was lost for words. Too easy, too simple. Couldn't be true. And it had been so long since he had come here that target and purpose had left him, bent shape in his mind and entirely lost meaning.
He said the first thing that came to his mind: "Please save Tsuzuki."
The Earl answer was accompanied by a sigh. "Young man, do you seriously think I wouldn't have done that all this time had there been anything I could do?"
"But you are the lord of the Castle of the Candles-- the keeper of the kiseki--you must be able to do something. Of all the people in Meifu you are the most powerful and the closest to Lord Enma. Don't expect me to believe you are helpless." Tatsumi felt anger rising in him again.
The Earl stared ahead, his teacup resting in front of him. "Tatsumi Seiichiro san, there is a lot you need to hear about this case before you can even start to judge a person."
"What? So he killed a giant temple spirit. The thing was after injured children. What kind of court condemns a man who saves the lives of innocents?" Tatsumi retorted.
"The court of the dark lord Mahorath." Came the Earl's grim reply, turning the mask towards him for more emphasis.
If a pin were dropped in the seconds that followed that statement its sound most likely would have been heard by all occupants in the room. Tatsumi was frozen; staring at the invisible man with shock, the name he had just heard was like a blow that had numbed all of his senses.
When he finally came out of it, he swallowed and spoke in a shaky voice. "Don't- don't tell me this is about the old debate between Enma and…"
"How could you not suspect that from the beginning?"
"But that was decades ago. I thought Lord Mahorath had finally gotten over it and accepted that Tsuzuki belonged in Ju-Oh-Cho, that he was a part of the light side."
"You have to understand, Tatsumi san. Even though Tsuzuki Asato is one of Enma Diao's few celestial descendants, and the only one to possibly succeed him, we can't ignore that the blood in his veins is still that of a demon. He is a child of paradox, trapped in a place between the dark and the light and suffering for it. He can never truly belong to a side without sooner or later remembering the other. Lord Mahorath knows this and considers himself as much entitled to him and his supernatural powers as Enma dono."
"You talk of him like he's piece of meat tossed amidst a pack of drooling wolves." Tatsumi said contemptuously, "Does anyone think about his feelings in all of this?"
"They do, or rather they think about which side he will be more likely to stay loyal to. For the longest time Enma Diao had the upper hand, but recent events had proven that assumption to be flawed. And now Lord Mahorath wants to see if it isn't him and Makai's that Asato really desires."
"Tsuzuki would never turn to Makai. Even if it were the last thing in the world and they promised him eternal happiness and then some. I know him too well to know that his gentle heart would not allow him such a job."
To his surprise the Earl nodded, "In that my child, I must admit you are correct. The offer was made and he refused. But they are counting on him to change his mind, after a certain amount of persuasion. Mahorath is hoping it won't be too long before he agrees."
"Persuasion?" Tatsumi whispered, suddenly getting the clear picture, "Is that what they call their torture? Persuasion? How long is that monster going to go on with it before he realizes that Tsuzuki won't break? He'd rather give his own life than hurt any other being, dead or alive."
"I know. And now I think they do too."
Tatsumi's held his breath. "They? Are you saying Makai has given up its 'persuasion' and will let him go?"
The Earl didn't answer immediately, worrying Tatsumi that perhaps he had hoped too soon. Then he said, "Mahorath was beginning to think about it. After Tsuzuki was possessed by the demon Saagatanus and then later brought to the brink of insanity by Muraki he had assumed that it was the demon side of Tsuzuki that had made him vulnerable in those situations. He decided to tap into it with the trial. But the trial proved something entirely different. It wasn't Tsuzuki's dark side that pushed him to the extreme. It was his care for others - rooted in his lightness - that had caused those breakdowns. So the whole process proved to be futile and had to be terminated."
Tatsumi's eyes stayed on the mask. "Why am I sensing a 'but' here?" he asked carefully.
"Because someone made Mahorath change his mind."
"Someone…"
----------------------------
"Masaki-san, are you going to tell me your plan or should I charm it out of you?" Nourian cooed, batting her lashes in a comically exaggerated way.
Isorou grimaced. "You might be a lot of things, Nourian. But charming isn't one of them."
Nourian frowned, but it looked as fake as her attempt at wooing. After all, she was used to being treated that way by the man.
Isorou indulged her nonetheless, "I told Mahorath to give me one last try to break that shinigami for good. I am going to make him beg to join Makai or else I'll quit my job."
"What do you have in mind?"
Isorou's smile split his face like a joker's grin, ugly and hiding something evil.
"Have you learned his weakness?" he asked.
"Whose weakness? The shinigami?"
"No, those chicken librarians. Of course the shinigami, you moron."
Nourian took a contemplative pose. "Hmm, let me see. Sweets," she started ticking off her fingers, "slacking off, turning into puppies, that doctor he's so afraid of…"
"Gods," Isorou grunted, "Why would I even think you'd use your few brain cells just because you share Ayaka's body. She would have had guessed it by now." He turned away.
Nourian looked genuinely hurt. She grumbled, "So what is his real weakness, Mr, know-it-all?"
Isorou didn't answer but went back to his papers. He didn't argue when the blonde came up behind him to look over his shoulder at the document he was reading. A document consisting of two separate pages, holding details on two particular shinigamis.
"I have something in mind all right, and sadly your powers are crucial for its function. I don't count on you to understand the works of it but I expect you to follow my orders precisely. If it succeeds, Makai will triumph over EnmaCho and both sides will know I made it happen. It will be a remarkable achievement even if it is just for the sorry soul of that pathetic shinigami."
---------------------------
Hisoka stood in front of the KoKakuRo under the bright moonlight, taking in the guests that came and went, the lights, aroma and sounds coming from the inside and around. Under his right arm he held the katana he had tightly wrapped in thick cloth. He didn't know why he had taken the precaution to hide the weapon, it wasn't like anyone could see him if he didn't want to. Well, anyone except a certain doctor.
Butterflies started rising in his belly again. He hated being here, in this place that held so many painful memories. Remembering the first time he had come here, when he had lost Tsuzuki and was determined to get him back at any cost. Then he had stood up for him, against one of the finest swordsmen he had known in his short life, and gained what he'd wanted. Not won, that would never have been possible, not with the man's skill and his own lack of experience, not with that adept hand holding the sword, moving so fast all you could see was the flash of the blade. But he was "given" victory, and had accepted. And for back then, it had been enough.
Not for now. He had come back again, katana in hand, Tsuzuki in mind and far more anxious. Being the rescuer again, wanting – no, needing – to save his friend. Again. And for that he needed the skill that only one man wielded, the man who was behind those doors.
Now that he was here though the tingling in his stomach had increased. He didn't exactly know why. Oriya was only a mortal. Was it the memories? The fact that this place had been a sanctuary to Muraki? Was he still afraid to meet the doctor here? But that apprehension was unwarranted because he knew he would've sensed the madman if he was around, and he hadn't…yet. So what was he worried about?
Shaking off his doubts Hisoka moved toward the entrance at the back of the restaurant, the one he and his friends had used the last time they were here. He walked inside and faced the beautiful garden at the back of the structure. He saw the pond, crystal clear water shimmering in the light of the full moon. He looked at the spot where he and Oriya had fought, fantasized that he could still see bloodstains, splattered on the grass there. He remembered how he had stood to the end, despite his injuries, despite his evident disadvantage showing in every step they took in their dance. Only for Tsuzuki. He remembered wanting to save him so badly he could taste it as clearly as he could taste the blood on his lips.
Cautiously, he took a few steps into the courtyard, the sheathed katana trailing loosely behind him. His steps took him to the pond, where he stood silently gazing at the water.
"Never expected to see you again so soon."
He whirled at the voice and saw the man himself. Sitting on the porch lazily with his pipe in hand and no care in the world, Oriya Mibu looked quite different from the silent and stern warrior Hisoka had met the other night.
That is before you saw the black-sheathed Katana resting snugly against the post he was leaning his back on.
"And alone too." Oriya turned, putting one sandaled foot on the ground and looking straight at him so the boy could clearly see the smirk on his lips. "Are you here to take someone's life? Or offer yours?"
The last was obviously a taunt not a threat but the presence of the katana and the knowledge of how quickly the man could use it made Hisoka move to a ready stance. Slowly he took his own blade out of its wrapping.
"I want you to teach me some techniques."
Oriya's back was resting against the pillar again, blue smoke curling out of his pipe and nostrils and getting blown away by the wind.
"Where is Purple Eyes? I thought it wasn't customary for you guys to travel alone," he said as if the boy hadn't spoken at all.
Hisoka forced himself to stay calm. "I want you to teach me to fight like you." He said again.
Oriya took a deep draft of his pipe and released the smoke to the wind. "Why?" he asked." I thought you guys didn't need the mortal ways of battle. Have you decided to run Kazutaka through with a sword instead of a spell?"
"This isn't about Muraki." Hisoka gritted out.
"But it is about the brunette, isn't it?" The longhaired man turned his knowing eyes to him again.
"Tsuzuki…" Hisoka choked out, "Yes, he is in trouble."
"Sheesh! Why am I not surprised? Looks like loving that guy brings more trouble than running a secret brothels or killing humans for fun. Makes me wonder why so many people are into it."
"I don't care about your sarcasm. I just need you to teach me how to use my sword like you do so I can defeat the bastard who's hurting my friend."
Oriya immediately turned and sat straight, focusing his burning gaze on the boy.
"And what about my friend? Did any of you ever ask yourselves what Kazutaka went through after your 'friend' left him to burn in that building?"
Hisoka felt blood rush to his face. What was the man talking about? Did Oriya seriously expect him to feel sorry for Muraki of all people?
A moment later Oriya's laughter rang in his ear like the tinkle of glass breaking on tiles. Like a man who had just heard the best joke in days Oriya let out a chuckle that was as loud as his outburst earlier.
"Oh, gods. You are so uptight. You really thought I expect you to worry about your worst enemy, ne? Heck, even I don't worry about him. Kazutaka is a thick-skinned guy. He will pull through without needing you or me or anyone else to clean his diapers."
His smirk turned back to Hisoka. "Your sweet puppy friend on the other hand – "
"You don't know anything about him so please keep your insults to yourself." Hisoka snapped.
Oriya looked at him carefully. "You seem awfully testy tonight, young one. Is everything all right? Your partner is not in life danger, is he?"
For a split moment Hisoka found himself not wanting to be strong anymore. He wanted to throw the sword to the ground, run toward the other man and sink into his embrace. He wanted to hide his face in his long, silken kimono and let his tears rain down until the other lulled him to peace like the older brother he'd never had.
Instead he stood there dumbfounded, sword loosely held in hand. "Tsuzuki is dying," he said numbly, "And I can't help him unless I defeat the man who is the cause of his pain."
"Sit down, boy." Oriya pointed at a spot next to him on the porch. "Tell me about this man and what's happened to you partner."
At first Hisoka wanted to object, say he didn't have time and that he needed those lessons fast. But looking at the calm countenance of the man sitting in front of him he realized he wanted to talk, if only to unwind and have someone listen to his grief for a while. Besides, if he wanted something from Oriya it was better to give him something in return. With that in mind he sat himself a few inches away from the smoking man and began his tale.
-----------------------------
"So Lord Mahorath is still counting on his delegates to win him Tsuzuki?"
Tatsumi had moved from the couch and was now sitting at the table across from the Earl. Watson had served them both tea and Tatsumi was sipping the hot, soothing drink.
"No matter what the outcome of the trial, the fact remains that Mahorath wants Tsuzuki. He believes him a prince of Makai and sees him sitting on a throne next to him. It's only Lord Enma's claim on Tsuzuki that keeps him from simply taking the shinigami. Now that Tsuzuki has refused to join Makai of his own free will Mahorath's been waiting for him to slip his control over the demon he harbors inside, like he did when he was seventeen. That would give him a good excuse to declare him a child of hell and simply take him away."
"A slip?" Tatsumi asked, "Like killing the temple spirit?"
"The temple spirit was just an illusion created by the Makai pawn Nourian. It wasn't even part of the trial, just an excuse to start the show. After that, Tsuzuki's been put through a lot of tests but so far, he's come out of all of them without failing." The Earl said.
Tatsumi's eyes sparkled. "So that means Mahorath has lost and they should let Tsuzuki go."
"Almost," the Earl replied, " like I said before, Lord Mahorath was about to admit defeat when one of the delegates asked for another try, and was granted. Which means that Tsuzuki has to go through one last test."
Tatsumi narrowed his eyes. For some reason he felt uncomfortable with the whole idea of that last test. He had no trouble guessing who the delegate was who'd suggested it. He remembered the prosecutor and the wicked glee he always got from tormenting his friend. If he thought this one chance was enough to break Tsuzuki after so many failures it only mean he was up to something very evil.
And evil in Isorou Masaki's book took a whole new meaning.
-------------------------------
Isorou leaned back in his chair, looking at the single lamp glowing on his desk. He had dismissed Nourian a while ago, telling her to turn off all the lamps on her way out. Now he sat alone, thinking about things untouched.
He could barely remember his life as a shinigami. It had been so short, and so…unfair. The people around him, his so called coworkers, were a bunch of idiots. Playing all day, goofing around the office, not caring about anything. He had hated them, hated their carelessness, their lack of responsibility. There was a job to do, so much work for such a small department but none of them seemed to care, so he ended up doing all the work himself while they were out partying their lazy asses all night long. His stupid partner was no exception.
No matter what they said, he didn't regret not saving the scatterbrained baka from the monster instead of finishing the job. It had been the kid's fault to begin with and besides, Isorou was a practical person not an emotional one. So what if the jerk came back all wounded and accused him of being selfish and cold. Like he cared what the bunch of them thought of him. Oh, and like it was a big deal if he'd used black magic he had drawn from the monster to win the battle. It was his power for gods' sake. They were just brats trying to make a big fuss out of nothing.
His features darkened when remembering what had happened next. Now looking at it through retrospect - seeing that he was older and much wiser - he knew that using that black magic hadn't been his smartest move. Or at least he should have made sure he'd killed all the demons and had no witnesses. But even if the surviving demons hadn't told Mahorath, or Enma, or whatever frying deity they obeyed, the murmurs that had started around JuOhCho after his stupid partner came back would have been enough to raise their heads.
In the end, the one he could least forgive for how much he had suffered had been Enma Diao himself. Oh, he hated those crude, conceited colleagues of his who always bragged about being there for everyone yet didn't even lift a finger when he was taken away for his trial, and turned deaf ears to his screams. Yet still, and above all, the focus of his rage was the God of the Dead himself, the lord who had forsaken him.
Was it better to work for Mahorath instead of that traitor god? Did he like more what he did now?
Honestly it was too hard to say. For one thing, he didn't have a heart anymore to feel anything akin to 'like' or 'dislike', hate or love. Having friends was meaningless and a waste of time and he was glad that hell's people weren't into that kind of thing. Same with having a partner since all those who aided him in his job were temporary. Like the irritating and utterly stupid Nourian. Shrill and talkative and without a shred of intelligence. Yet she was still better than her light counterpart, the pathetically sentimental Yano Ayaka, who was so dense she had started having feelings for their victim.
Even that blonde scientist was a means to achieve his goals. It was true that he had visited him a lot since he'd come here, had admired how hardworking and serious the man was in a time when the rest of their pitiful division was groveling just because their friend was a little hurt. It was true that he sometimes, very rarely for sure, fantasized about how it would have been if the two of them had been real friends, tried to pretend they were before the moron brought up the ridiculous issue of that condemned shinigami or the God damn kid again and ruined his fun. In the end, it was all part of the mission. It would have been nice if things were different, that man Watari had a lot of potential, but then again, it was his own damn fault he was hanging out with and defending the wrong crowd.
And Tsuzuki Asato? He wasn't even sure whether he despised the man or loved hurting him. He was the epitome of everything he had worked against, fought against and suffered for in his life and afterlife. The kind of lowlife lazy scum that reminded him of his old coworkers that were only there to occupy a space they didn't deserve. The slacker actually thought he was better than the rest because everyone cooed and pampered him, living in their ignorant silly world of what they thought was good and insulting all the decent, hardworking employees of any organization like a slap to their face.
Then again, it could be because the young man possessed some mighty persuasive magic that made everyone fall for him. He knew this because, at times, even he had felt it. Although he had never allowed himself to reflect on it, he knew the weakness was there, and its existence alone - in a crystallized heart such as his - proved just how dangerously powerful the shinigami's magic was. It was probably the same spell that had allowed him to last all this time under the strain of his extreme methods of breaking.
But that wouldn't be for long, he thought as he looked back at the table. Leaning forward once more, the gray haired man took the files in his hand and stared at the picture of the two targets he had chosen to use in his last attempt at winning. "Attachment", he thought. That was their weakness. And if you wanted to fight vermin like these properly, the way to go about it was through their weaknesses. He would do it no matter what. He would see this assignment to its end and make sure it would be a lesson to all of them. To these people as well as his former colleagues, and to the ones who came before them and the ones who came after.
---------------------
The swordsman's silence and the sounds of the night was what filled the air after Hisoka finished his story in the KoKakuRo garden. Oriya didn't interrupt him at any point, just leaned back against the pillar and took occasional drags from his pipe. When his silence stretched too long after the boy had gone quiet Hisoka looked up with a look of expectation in his eyes.
"That my boy, is a shit load of trouble," the longhaired man finally said.
"I know that. That's why I'm here asking for help, to fix it." Hisoka answered with frustration.
Oriya let his calm gaze fall on him. "Why you again, Bon? Aren't there any other more experienced, adult shinigamis to take care of this?"
Hisoka shook his head angrily." Everyone's doing what they can. But this is ultimately my responsibility. I'm the one who swore to protect Tsuzuki last time I was here. And look at the way things are now. Barely six months and we're back at the beginning, with Tsuzuki in trouble and me helpless to do anything about it. It only means one thing, I've failed." He let his head hang between his knees.
A soft hand touched his shoulder. "You worry too much, Bon. Anyone ever told you that? Taking care of that puppy is a tough job. Are you sure you're cut out for such a responsibility?"
"He always does it for me."
"What do you mean?"
"Tsuzuki. I mean, it's tough taking care of me too, what with my empathy problems and Muraki and all…But he never complains. He's always just sort of, there. When I need him he's there and doesn't even mention it later as if protecting me is the most routine natural thing in the world." He raised his head, "I want to do the same, Oriya-san. But I always fail somehow."
"You didn't fail last time." Oriya said with a smirk, blowing puffs of smoke in the air.
"I wouldn't call it a success either. He almost killed himself."
"Almost. That is the important word here. You have to understand that sometimes things are not in our control the way we want them."
"But to lose him again like this. Losing him to that man… that awful, dreadful man, and having to watch him suffer like that. It makes me feel so mad."
"Remember what I said last time? Everyone has their own reason for doing the things they do. You, I, Muraki… and that awful dreadful man. We all live and act the way we do for our own personal purposes." He put the pipe back in his mouth.
Hisoka stared, waiting for him to say more. When it became apparent that the man wasn't going to – appearing to be lost again in the misty smokes of his pipe - Hisoka rose, feeling tired and aiming to go back.
Oriya's voice came to him. "If you still want those lessons after thinking things over come here in two nights and I'll see what I can do. Remember however, steel doesn't solve all problems. For some, you have to cut deeper, deeper than even the blade can go. And for those cuts, you need something sharper than a sword."
Hisoka frowned. "Spare me your philosophies, sensei, and show me how to fight. See you in two nights. And give my regards to your dear friend, Dr. Muraki."
That made the swordsman laugh. "Sure, if I ever see him I will. But chances are you'll see him sooner if he ever decides to show up. He always looks for his dolls first after he wakes up." He enjoyed the slight wince in the boy's shoulders after hearing that. He was a fun kid to tease.
"Ja-ne." Hisoka didn't spare him another glace as he walked across the courtyard and into the streets. The alleys he stepped into were utterly quite and dark. The atmosphere seemed eerie that hour of the night and it gave him a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. Instinctively, he looked up at the moon. It was bright white and fully round. Hisoka kicked himself for showing weakness, as if something could happen to an empath who could sense the stealthiest creature in the world if it snuck up on him. Or was it because of Oriya's last comment about Muraki? He should really get a hold of himself and stop getting all worked up whenever Muraki's name was mentioned.
But then again, where was his uneasy feeling coming from? Hisoka asked himself as he walked through the dark alley. I feel like I'm being followed. All of a sudden the hair at the nape of his neck stood up and he quickly turned around, hand on his sword. He could swear he had heard something, or felt, he couldn't really tell. "I'm going nuts. Must go back to Meifu fast." He said as he turned to continue on.
He saw it then. Someone standing at the mouth of the alley holding a light. Hisoka felt his heart beat faster; his empathy flaring up and reaching the other person only to find out there was nothing to touch. The figure, whoever it was, was either completely void of emotions or shielding itself too well. He gathered all his courage and started walking toward it.
A woman, dressed in black. Wind blew in her blonde her and Hisoka immediately backed off as soon as he recognized her face.
"You…what the hell are you doing here?" he yelled.
"Shhhh, come here Hisoka. Take a look."
It was then that Hisoka realized what the evil woman was doing. She was standing in the middle of the road and holding her hands in front of her face like a bird was about to land on them. Only, instead of a bird, there was a floating light slightly above her palms and she was looking into it.
"I don't want to play any of your games, witch." Hisoka said.
"Even if it involves your partner?" She replied, throwing him a sidelong glance.
That got Hisoka's attention. Tentatively he stepped closer and looked at the light. He didn't know what he was looking for.
"What do you mean? What about Tsuzuki?"
"Look." She motioned at the light.
Hisoka looked closer and all of a sudden saw an image projected there. It was of Tsuzuki, bound and on his knees as he'd been for the past…gods knew how long. And another person. Hisoka narrowed his eyes. Who was there with Tsuzuki? A man, long white coat, silver white hair. He had his hand on Tsuzuki's cheek, and his partner was shivering.
Hisoka saw red.
"Muraki!"
And then the world turned upside down. As if hell had broken loose large columns of red and orange light shot from the ground toward the sky from all around him. Hisoka immediately became alert and tried to back away as fast as he could but he was caught. Through the light and the flares and the earsplitting roars he saw Nourian's wicked face brighten with a smile, or was it a sneer? Light shown from under her chin giving her a creepy look that matched her character. He knew it had been a mistake from the beginning to trust her.
"You are really naïve, bouya. And for that you will pay." Muraki's voice was coming from her mouth.
It was too much. With the last vestiges of his power Hisoka tried to break the spell. But then Nourian's face seemed to draw him in. The light exploded and filled every inch of space around him and he felt sucked into it. No amount of clawing, punching or screaming helped. He knew he was lost then, and that there was no one left to rescue him.
----------------------------------------------
" I need to go."
Tatsumi's first words after a long interval of silence came spoken from where he sat at the table.
"You just came in, why not rest the night?" the Earl replied.
"No," he shook his head, "I thought I could help Tsuzuki-san. Now I know better but can do less. I should've stayed by his side."
"You did help him. It was because of you – because of your stubbornness - that I asked EnmaDiao to speed up the proceedings."
"It wasn't enough."
"It was all you had in your ability."
"No, I should have stayed and tried to defeat the prosecutor with my powers. That would have been the extent of my ability."
"Why are you being so hard on yourself, Tatsumi-san?"
"I'm not-"
"Do you still love him so much?"
Tatsumi mouth opened but no sound came out.
The Earl leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers.
"Your shock doesn't surprise me. You are like that. You think no one knows, that no one has eyes."
Tatsumi remained speechless. He continued staring at the Earl.
"Tell me, Tatsumi-san. Have you ever told him about your feelings? It's true that everyone else knows but Tsuzuki-san is a different case. He is a bit oblivious when it comes to such matters."
"I- I don't know what you're talking about, Hakushaku-san. Tsuzuki-san and I… we're just…I mean - there's nothing between us but what's in the past."
The Earl gave a knowing smile. "Sure, make sure you remind him of that everyday."
"What do you mean, Hakushaku-san? I don't understand-."
"Tatsumi-san," the mask tilted. The Earl's voice was both playful and reprimanding, "Everyone knows I love Tsuzuki-san. Even he knows it and that's why he does his best to run away from me. I have no reservations showing my feelings towards him because we both know what a cheerful and lovable person he is. I enjoy it and I'm sure at times he enjoys it too. Try to take an example."
Tatsumi rolled his eyes. "Hakushaku-san, with all do respect, I don't think I'd ever be able to be as upfront as you are. You may not know but people think- "
"..that I'm a pervert. Yes, I'm aware of that, but I'm not ashamed of my feelings, and when it's time to express them I sure don't hesitate. You better learn this from me. Just as you taught me not to hesitate rescuing the one I love I want to teach you not to hold back showing him that you care."
Tatsumi looked at him for a long time, surprised. He'd never expected Hakushaku –pervert first class – to be this deep.
"I'll keep that in mind, Hakushaku-san."
"Great, then I guess that makes us serious rivals. Make sure not to forget your sword next time you meet me. We might have to go on a duel."
It took Tatsumi a while to get it. The Earl was joking with him and he was too concerned with his worries to be entertained. Then again, how could you figure a joke out on a guy who had no face and consequently, no facial expressions?
"He really is something, isn't he?" The Earl asked in that same playful voice.
"He is…" Tatsumi hesitated, short for words.
He heard the Earl sigh. The mask tilted down a bit before it rose again, looking at him.
"Be there for him, Tatsumi-san. He needs our affection as much as our protection, to keep him safe from falling into the abyss of self-doubt. Don't get so lost in your sense of protectiveness that you ignore his other needs."
Tatsumi dropped his head. "I'll do my best Hakushaku-san," he looked up then, "and…I guess I should say…thank you."
"Anytime," he said it like someone making a secret pact with an old friend, "and anything… for Tsuzuki-san."
Just then the doors to the room opened and Watson walked in. He had a troubled look on his face and before anyone could ask one of Isorou's minions appeared on his heals.
Tatsumi and the Earl both leaped from their seats. Watson shrugged. The creature stood still for a few moments before looking at each of them and then floating toward Tatsumi. When it got close he reached into its cloak and took out a note.
"He's requested your presence." It said in a deep voice.
Tatsumi took the note and read it.
Meet me by the tree across from where your precious friend is. Come alone. I might feel generous today.
-Isorou
He crumpled the letter in his fist and set out for the door. Before he could reach it however Hakushaku's voice rose at his back.
"It might be a trap."
He hesitated, fist still clenched around the paper and trembling.
"Of course it is. But I still have to go. If there is the slightest chance..."
The Earl folded his hands together. For a while it seemed like he was contemplating his answer, then, "I wish you the best of luck, Tatsumi-san." It was said in a low yet confident voice. As if he had all the trust in the world in the man in front of him.
"Thank you, Hakushaku-san." said Tatsumi, sharing the trust. He then followed the creature outside.
The Earl sat there for a long time, looking at the door that had closed behind his guest just a minute ago. He was thinking about many things, unpleasant and otherwise. Yet there was this strange feeling inside his heart, as if he had just said goodbye to a long lost friend whom he had met after a long time. It was a strange feeling he couldn't explain.
To be continued…
So there you have it. Please, please let me know what you think, I'm so much in need of motivation since most of this is written while I'm very very sleepy (I'm taking time out of my sleep because cutting school time is out of question.) So I really need to know that there is someone out there enjoying it.
And just to tease your minds a little, here is another question:
"What do you guess Isorou's grand plan is, and what is Nourian's part in it?"