Unforeseen Tragedy

Part 6

It was a day after Tatsumi got out of the infirmary, and was taking a short leave of absence. Tsuzuki also seemed to be in a funk. He talked less, and kept staring at him for reasons he didn't bother to figure out. What had occurred the other day was still fresh in his mind, and he had to try hard not to cry, especially with his partner keeping such a close watch on him. Most recently, as he noticed, his empathy had somewhat…seemed to take a vacation. Great, just when he could use it, it leaves him. How that was even possible, he wasn't sure. Though, there were other things he couldn't comprehend, like why he went to bed early every night, but woke up as if he had been awake all night.

A side glance to his right told him Tsuzuki had stopped eyeing him like he was a four-course desert, and was actually not even in their designated office space at all. Hisoka sighed with relief. But, as one thing settled down, another acted up- namely his stomach. He had noticed he hadn't been eating well, but when has he ever? He had once been accused of some stomach sickness, but that was dismissed upon lack of solid evidence. He smiled, for once in a long while. As he thought about it, it was Tsuzuki who had first stated the concern for the boy's health.

He lingered on that thought, about the time he felt his partner actually cared about his well-being, before the rumble in his stomach told him it was time to return to reality. The reality where no one truly cared. He was dead. What was there to care or worry about, anyway? He rose from his desk and went to the break room. He looked around him. He didn't want anything he would have to cook, but he didn't want anything super-cold… or sweet. He settled on grabbing an apple from the fruit basket, and a knife, with which to cut it. He, first, cut it in half, then in fourths, and was now taking the individual pieces in his hands to cut them further. He was spaced out as he did this, once again thinking about the good old days. Until the image of the bloody knife flashed in his mind again. He wasn't ready when the alarm went off, as a loud siren. (This goes off every time Watari blows up his lab. Tatsumi installed the alarm to notify him of it even from a distance. Someone should tell them he's gone for the day, ne?)

It happened so fast. He barely caught what was happening. The alarm went off, startling Hisoka. The knife slipped in his hands… catching the cloth and flesh of his left hand. Then, the blade fell to the floor, like the image. Hisoka's eyes grew wide as he stared at the badly bleeding cut. It didn't hurt- he didn't even feel it- and though he knew he had to treat the wound, he didn't move. The way his blood flowed as it did, the way if stained his orange shirt, and his blue jacket, and the way it slid down his hand and onto the floor… all of it fascinated him. He knew it was wrong, but he…he felt somewhat at peace as he let himself bleed as he was. The sensation hit a nerve… but it was a good kind of nerve. He enjoyed the sweet bliss of freedom it left him with. He was still bleeding, and his head felt light. He knew he should take care of his wound, but by this time, he could not have been able to think rationally even if he had wanted to. It was almost as if all his worries, thoughts and pains were leaking away onto the white-tiled floor. He was so woozy and mesmerized that he didn't notice Tsuzuki, again, as the man walked into the break room, also.

"Oh, I found you! I had to make sure you weren't in the lab when Watari blew it up, this time! You were gone for a while! Why don't we go out and…"

He had expected some sort of quick-witted response by then. When he opened his eyes and looked at his partner, he was more shocked than one could describe with words. Hisoka was just standing there in a dizzy daze as he bled all over the floor. Finally, Hisoka had as much as he could take. His eyes fell closed and he swayed dangerously. Tsuzuki gasped, and ran to catch his partner before he fell to the floor.

"Hisoka? Hisoka?"

When Hisoka had regained the ability to think rationally, Tsuzuki sat him in a chair and placed a large bowl of cool water in front of him. He removed his jacket, and rolled up his long sleeve and helped ease the boy's hand into the water. It stung for a moment, but he soon relaxed into it, and against the chair. Tsuzuki sat across from him, making sure he kept his hand in the water, and frowned.

"Why didn't you treat it, Hisoka?"

Empathy is back. He could feel the confusion and something like disappointment come from the other. At this, Hisoka's eye twitched painfully.

"I…was a little out of it. the blood just kept flowing."

"You should have known better than to let it…"

Good. He finally got the hint of what the negative emotion was doing to the boy and took a few deep breaths to calm down, benefiting both of them. Once things were calm and good, Tsuzuki restated his question.

"That was dangerous. I was really worried about you just now."

Liar.

"You make me worry a lot, lately."

Liar.

"Why didn't you call for help?"

LIAR. You don't care about me. You only care about HIM; your old partner, Tatsumi. Hisoka's eyes were closed, as he felt more tears coming. He tried so hard to hold them back, only barely succeeding.

"Why wont you talk to me? Hisoka?"

"Mm… the blood loss must have done a number on me. I feel so tired."

NOW look who is lying…

"I see…"

Tsuzuki pulled the kid's hand out of the water and carefully wrapped it.

"Don't fall asleep just yet. You should go to the infirmary and have this checked out. We don't want you to fall asleep and never wake up again."

Would that be so bad, Hisoka thought… Tsuzuki pulled lightly on his arm, and the boy stumbled to his feet. But almost as soon as he did so, Hisoka growled and pushed away from the man. He wobbled to the door.

"I can go by myself."

Hisoka left Tsuzuki there with his thoughts and worry and slowly made his way to the infirmary. There was no one else there, which was fortunate. Oh wait. Terazuma was asleep on a bed in the far corner with a magazine over his face. Also fortunate, for it muffled his obnoxious snores. Hisoka paid him no mind and went to the other side of the room and curled in on himself facing the window on top of the covers on the bed. Watari had looked in, once or twice, as far as his empathy could tell. Whether he was trying to look in on him or the other, he wasn't sure, nor did he care, the only thing he knew was that he kept waking up from the pain in his hand, and kept crying himself to sleep afterwards.