Eheheh…I'm a bad person XD I sort of left this story hanging for (cough) 9 months. Ahh I'm so sorry everyone! I really don't have an excuse except that #1 I wasn't sure what I was going to do with this story #2 I sort of forgot about it after awhile and #3 I've been so busy with AP Comp that when I did remember this story I was drained creatively from essays and short stories. But anyhow, I'm here to fix that and give you guys what I think is going to be the last chapter.
I sort of woke up at 3:20 this morning, opened my laptop and started typing. As I write this introduction its 4:06 and I've written half the chapter, this definitely wasn't premeditated at all. I just randomly decided to write. Yes, I'm weird you got a problem with that?
Haha so anyway, same rules apply there will be yaoi and flames will be laughed at.
I really hope this chapter makes sense even though it's the middle of the night! And please R&R if you have time (I'm selfish alright, I like reviews!)
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Pressure. An intense buzzing in my ear and red, red everywhere; blood, my blood. I remember: I slit my wrists. Funny, the pain is nonexistent; all I feel is a throbbing in my temples. I think I'm finally dying, this time it's actually going to work, and now I'm happy…maybe a little scared…?
Blood everywhere. Why won't it stop? The sheets are red now, if I don't die I know he'll yell at me for staining these sheets, but I'm pretty sure I won't live. I wonder if there's an afterlife. Will I cease to exist? What will it be like to be nothing? I'm scared, but I want to die.
I'm scared, but living is so much worse…
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Tsuzuki's violet eyes shot open, dilated with fear. His bottom lip quivered slightly as his vision cleared. He felt so thirsty, so hot.
"Did you have a bad dream Tsuzuki?"
The brown haired shinigami looked up, his shoulders relaxed as he recognized a concerned looking Hisoka peering over his face, and memories of passing out in the bathroom flooded his mind. "Hisoka, did you get me on the bed by yourself? You've gotten stronger!" Tsuzuki commended happily, forcing a smile to hide his pain.
A quick glint of hurt passed through Hisoka's emerald eyes, but he ignored the older shinigami's behavior and clumsily dipped a soft washcloth into a small bowl. "This is going to be cold Tsuzuki but I've got to bring your fever down." The blonde said seriously, refusing to let emotion overtake work.
Tsuzuki flinched slightly as the cold cloth touched his warm skin but quickly relaxed under Hisoka's gentle touch. He felt his cheeks turn a deeper red and a small sigh left his parched lips.
Hisoka hesitated, "are you okay?" He asked doubtfully. "I've never really done this before, help others when they're sick I mean."
Tsuzuki's clouded eyes brightened and a small smile crept across his lips. "You mean I'm the first? That makes me happy." His smile quickly fell as his temples pounded again, leaving him feeling nauseous and weak.
"Ts-Tsuzuki?" Hisoka felt his eyes water, he felt so helpless watching the older shinigami in pain. Far too often he was the one being cared for, and his lack of experience made him feel useless.
Tsuzuki didn't respond, instead he breathed heavily. Hisoka watched intently as his chest heaved up and down, the soft light of the bedside lamp cast deep shadows against his pallid skin making him look so feeble and vulnerable.
"D-do you need a trashcan? Are you going to throw up?" the blonde boy asked impatiently, fear rising to the back of his mind. He considered calling Watari or Tatsumi, he vaguely remembered a phone near the front of the apartment and he was sure either man would be of more use in helping the ailing shinigami.
"N-no its okay, Soka. Just don't leave me…please? Don't leave." Tsuzuki mumbled softly, sliding his fingers through the folds of his silky sheets and tightening his fingers around them as his pain intensified.
Hisoka's heart thumped painfully against his chest. He wanted to help, but he was scared, confused. "But Tsuzuki, I…" Without thinking Hisoka rose from the fold out chair he had placed beside the brown haired man's bed, instead sitting next to Tsuzuki on the bed, delicately running his fingers through the other's damp hair. The blonde felt shivers run up his spine, he wasn't used to being so kind. His usually intense demeanor was being melted at the sight of his sick partner and it made him uncomfortable, but weirdly happy. Happy that he was the only one Tsuzuki wanted.
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The pain is back again. I can feel it in my wrist, below my watch. Why won't it go away? I'm dead now, why does my body still have this scar? So many nights I've cried, but my tears can't wash my sin away. The scar still remains. The pain still exists, and now its back again.
I think its opening. I'm seeing red again and the pressure's coming back. I remember this feeling, an unstable level between life and death. Its almost unfeeling, a euphoria. I wish there was no afterlife now. I wish I had just stopped existing because if I'm still here, my pain is too…and the blood.
I know why I'm sick, its punishment. I'm being made to atone for that day, my final sin of taking my own life. Because ultimately, if I'm dead, how can I make up for the horrible deeds I committed?
This is my anniversary of death, and I'm glad Hisoka's here to share it with me. But I wish the blood would stop running, I wish the pressure would go away.
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Hisoka watched Tsuzuki numbly. The older shinigami had fallen into a restless sleep; he had reached the height of his fever and beads of sweat cascaded across his tense brow. The blonde continued to stroke his hair lovingly while he clumsily rubbed his chest with the damp washcloth. Hisoka's arms burned from the awkward position, but he ignored the sting instead focusing on his partner's well being.
"What could've done this to you?" He mumbled quietly, disregarding the tingle in the corner of his emerald eyes where tears were forming. Hisoka remembered this feeling of helplessness: he had felt it for the first time when he was still alive, when he was sick. And then when he had finally died he had been subjected to the feeling again, except this time for not being able to save the lives of others. But as he hunched over Tsuzuki's lithe form he realized this was the worst feeling of all: the realization that he couldn't help the one he loved most.
"You planned this didn't you?" Hisoka sniffed softly as tears rolled down his pale nose, "you always are frustrating me, why do you make me feel so weak?" His voice cracked with stress and he had an almost irrepressible desire to hit something. "I don't want to like you," Hisoka hiccupped and wiped his nose on his shoulder. "I don't want to love you."
"Soka, are you okay?" The blonde jumped at the soft sound of Tsuzuki's voice. His mind raced blindly, how much had he heard, how long had he been awake?
Pulling his hand from Tsuzuki's hair Hisoka stumbled off the bed and knocked the bowl of water to the floor. "Shit!" He cried, aggravated. "I'm fine Tsuzuki, I'm not the one that's sick." His voice was thick with tears and he hurried to the bathroom to find a towel, quickly wiping his eyes as he made his way back to the bedroom.
"Were you crying?" Tsuzuki pressed, concern knitting his brow.
Hisoka ignored the question and concentrated on mopping up the small puddle of water. "I think your fever broke, maybe you should take a shower." The blonde suggested, not bothering to look up.
Tsuzuki frowned slightly and eased himself slowly off the comforter. His stomach flip-flopped uncomfortably as he moved and he rested his warm forehead in his hands. "Can you make it?" Hisoka asked uneasily after standing from the floor and finding the older shinigami still sitting at the edge of the bed.
"Y-yeah, 'm just a little dizzy." Tsuzuki mumbled, standing slowly from the bedside and shuffling to the brightly lit bathroom.
Hisoka stood poised next to the bed, waiting nervously until he heard the water turn on and the soft click of the shower door opening and closing. Then he busied himself with cleaning the cluttered apartment, anything to clear his mind. He wandered around aimlessly, turning on overheads and piling dirty clothes in a laundry hamper.
After a few minutes the small home was in a decent order and Hisoka moved on to the kitchen, having decided to make some soup. He sifted through the practically empty cabinets until finding a small pack of instant ramen. "This'll have to do," He sighed to himself, he hadn't expected to find anything of much nutritional value anyway and at least the ramen had somewhat of a broth to it.
Shortly after the warm smell of ramen had wafted through the apartment Tsuzuki shuffled from the steaming bathroom and collapsed on his small tan couch. "Thanks for cleaning up." He said slowly as the young blonde entered the undersized living room, ramen in hand.
"I don't know how you can live in such a mess!" Hisoka scolded, pausing as he noticed Tsuzuki's forlorn face. The older shinigami's head was bent over, his lips in a slight frown, and water dripped slowly from his dark brown hair. "A-are you okay, Tsuzuki? Are you still feeling sick?" The blonde asked, placing the ramen on the coffee table in front of the couch and squeezing next to Tsuzuki.
"Yeah, I'm just tired I guess." The dark haired man stated, playing halfheartedly with his watch.
"Well are you hungry at all because I made you some ramen…" Hisoka's voice trailed off as he noticed the tears trickling down Tsuzuki's flushed cheeks. Without thinking he surged forward, wrapping his feeble arms around Tsuzuki and nuzzling his forehead into the older man's chest. "Please just tell me what's wrong Tsuzuki! I don't want you to be hurt!" He sobbed uncontrollably.
Tsuzuki's eyes widened and he pulled his arms free, tightening them around Hisoka and rubbing the boy's heaving back. "I love you Hisoka, your caring for me is enough. Nothing's wrong now, I'm just tired." He purred calmly, lowering his eyelids in happiness.
"Your lying, something's wrong. You, Watari, Tatsumi, the chief, none of you will tell me but something's wrong. You know my past, so why can't you trust me with yours?" Hisoka gulped, digging his nails into Tsuzuki's loose t-shirt.
"I can't tell you yet, Soka. If I tell you you won't love me anymore." Tsuzuki trembled as the memories of his death relayed before his eyes.
Hisoka pushed on Tsuzuki's shoulders till they were face-to-face and stared into the shinigami's violet eyes. "I'll never stop loving you." He swallowed hard and his face fell into a serious gaze.
Tsuzuki felt taken aback, he had never seen his younger partner be so passionate and it frightened him. How could some one love him, when he didn't even love himself? "Please, Hisoka, if you love me, give me time. Please." He begged slowly, arms trembling uncontrollably.
Hisoka wanted to fight, he wanted to say no or even give up on the shinigami and yell at him, tell him he was stupid and helpless. But he didn't, his empathetic heart absorbed the intense fear radiating so freely from his partner's scarred mind and he conceded. "Do you promise?" Hisoka ventured cautiously, "Do you promise that one day you'll tell me your secrets?"
Tsuzuki nodded solemnly and pulled Hisoka back to his chest. "I promise." He whispered gently.
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Okey dokey. Ummm I guess I –could- write more but I think this is a good ending. Soo…you guys don't kill me, I did take a long time to update but at least I did it right? Right? T.T I really am sorry…
Maybe I'll write another Yami no Matsuei fic, writing it was pretty fun. Or maybe a sequel to this fic! Anyhoo if you guys have time please review, I really enjoy reading them, good or bad :) u