Disclaimer: I don't own Yami no Matsuei

Shout-outs:

Kiko812: Cliffy? Really? Well, here's the next chapter. And do your homework! (Okay, nix the hypocritical motherly scolding)

Hikari Tsuki Chi: I know the girl herself isn't a fandom creation; it's her relationship to Hisoka that might be the creation.

As for the meeting with his parents…well, you'll just have to see. Watari and Tatsumi's case on the family hasn't happened in this fanfic. I began writing Second Death in the very beginning of the Gensoukai/Kurosaki arc and I didn't want to get ahead of myself with no real knowledge of the story. Nowadays I use bits of information and manipulate them for my own nefarious fanfiction purposes here. I'd use that arc if they would hurry up and actually print the rest of the manga. (Waits impatiently for May 2nd to roll around, when they finally pop out volume 11.)

Aacire: Thank you! Your answer to T/E will be in either chapter 11 or 13, and your answer to Hisoka will be now!

Stratus5: I know; I totally wasn't expecting to make Saya an anorexic. But then I thought, "you know, they did die with regrets, so there's gotta be something…" So when I wrote Saya's outburst, the opportunity just presented itself. I made up Yuma dying of pneumonia on the spot, though.

Tsubaki and Eileen…what's great about them is you can do anything with them. Tsubaki has some constraints on personality, but she's easy to write: a very sweet person who can explode when she's angry and gets upset easily. Eileen, on the other hand, is the true playdoh of the YnM world because she can be anything. I got Angry!Eileen from the fact that Tsubaki was a real wench when she was being possessed half-Eileen half-Muraki in the Manga.

As for Tsuzuki and Hisoka…well, they're great. (Huggles them).

Amethyst-eyed Koneko: AEK! AEK! (Grins) I'll call you that from now on. And yes, the spell-check is a Godsend!

Prologue…hmm, well, there's several holes in my ability to post it. First of all, the file on my computer was lost. Second, it doesn't really have a beginning; I just sorta picked up in the middle. Third…I dunno, I feel weird posting it. It's mine, you know. Sorry…I'll do what I can to implement it herein. And I'm planning some character-centric side stories for Second Death so we'll see what develops there. And we still have the aftermath of the wedding to deal with, which will probably be written along the same lines…

Anyway.

Just remember, 88 percent sure on the Hisoka thing. Don't quote me on it just yet.

It's weird; you're the only one that doesn't like T/E as far as I can see. Hopefully it's just the pairing that bores you and not my writing. If it is, I'm the same way—someone could write the most massive, epic, best-written story for, say, Ron/Hermione from Harry Potter or Eclipse/Erutis from Demon Diary and I wouldn't read it, simply because I don't like those pairings. But anyway, steel yourself for some more T/E later on. They're my second favorite pairing in YnM so they're gonna get a little more screen time.

Not reading your review for chapter 6 has more to do with me being an oversensitive drama queen than anything you said. (Wink) I think it's harder getting criticized for a bad chapter when you know it was bad, than getting criticized for a chapter you thought was really, really good. If someone criticizes a chapter you love you can brush it off and say, "What do they know?" and have a good laugh at their stupidity, but when you're criticized for a chapter you hated it's like adding salt to the wound. It makes you cringe and go "Yeah, I know it sucked. You don't have to remind me." That, of course, is no offense to you at all; it's something that has to do with me and my inability to cope with criticism…(Grin and Wink). I'll have to work on that…

Oh, and for that matter, you might be wondering "Why did I post chapter 6 if I didn't like it anyway?" The answer: I started off liking it, but as it went on I became more and more disillusioned with how it was turning out. However, I couldn't think of any other way to write it. Moreover, it was starting to kill my inspiration for the rest of the story. Rather than let the story be killed, I pumped out chapter 6 really quickly and began working on chapter 7 immediately.

Hisoka-humor is best, as always, and Tarot is a lot of fun. I suggest you take it up.

Glad to see someone hates Nagare as much as me. He and Muraki should hook up, seriously…

Side Note #1: Holy…over 3000 hits for Second Death! (Glomps all) Thank you all so much! Now, if only I had 3000 reviews to match… (NudgeNudgeWinkWink)

Side Note #2: Just some things from volume 10 that I'm manipulating here:

1. Dr. Hazama is a female in this fic, her name is Satsuki, and Miya is her daughter. I also made up Miya's history with Hisoka.

2. Rui is not pregnant with a demon's child.

Bitter and Sweet

Your hands were covered in paint

The pillow smothered my cry

You were half-charmer half-snake

I lived in dreamtime

- Heather Nova, "I'm Alive"

"Satsuki, what's the diagnosis? What's wrong with him?"

Satsuki looked up from her patient, chewing her bottom lip. "Nagare-sama, Rui-sama, I'm sorry but…it appears that Hisoka-sama has been raped."

"Nonsense," Nagare asserted shortly.

"I know it's difficult to swallow," Satsuki whispered soothingly, "but all the evidence points to it. This is beyond my control. He needs to see the other doctors."

"Out of the question," Nagare stated firmly.

"But sir!"

"What proof do you have that he's been raped?" Rui hissed.

"Ma'am!" Satsuki yelped indignantly. "Just look at his lips. Bruised and swollen. His wrists are raw from cloth burns; they were tied. I saw to his X-rays personally; he has bone bruises on his pelvis and a fractured coccyx. I found blood and semen all over him. Sir, ma'am, I know your relationship with Hisoka-sama is wretched to say the least, but for pity's sake, this is your child! He has been raped, and from the looks of it, extremely violently. He needs a specialist, and you need to file a complaint right now if you want to catch the sick b-st-rd who did this."

"It's not your place or your business," Nagare said coldly. "Kindly leave us."

"But—!"

"Now."

Satsuki's mouth was pressed in a firm line, her face contorted with livid surprise. She slammed her pen down on her clipboard and stalked from the room, her face a storm cloud.

Nagare and Rui turned their attention to Hisoka. His skin had paled to the color of the hospital bed's sheets. His eyes were open, the bright green of his pupils widened into two flawless, round, soulless emeralds.

Nagare reached down and touched his son's arm. Hisoka convulsed, his throat constricting to only allow a small gasp-squawk to pass through his lips.

"D-mn," Nagare said steely. "We can't afford to have people looking into our family. It'll destroy us. And God help us if some reporter accidentally…"

"I told you he would destroy our family," Rui snapped venomously. "First he develops this demon ability…and now he wanders outside like an idiot and gets himself newsworthy. What are we going to tell the press?"

"An accident," Nagare replied coolly. "We'll pay off the woman who found him, and the hospital staff, just in case. Satsuki's not a problem…she'll keep her mouth shut if we force her."

"D-mn you," Rue said, sucking in her breath in between her teeth as her eyes hardened against her child. "You deserve this, you hear me?" She gripped the edge of the hospital bed, her knuckles turning white. "You deserve this!"

Hisoka woke up to Tsuzuki wiping sweat off his forehead. Hisoka pushed his hand away and turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Today?"

"Yeah," Hisoka answered, running his wrist against his forehead and sitting up in bed. He was beginning to feel a spiked ball of nerves tearing at his stomach.

"You're absolutely sure?" Tsuzuki asked, getting out of bed.

"Yeah."

"Positively?"

"Yes." Hisoka pushed the covers back and swung his legs over the mattress. "I'm getting a shower. No need for them to think their dead son is dirtier than they thought I was."

"I'll wash your back for you," Tsuzuki threw out playfully, reminiscently.

"No thanks," Hisoka returned, catching the nostalgia of the Kyoto case. He exited the bedroom, Tsuzuki behind him. They parted ways halfway down the hall; not before Tsuzuki gave Hisoka's hand a loving squeeze and his ears a promise to try and not ruin breakfast utterly and completely, and also to try and leave the kitchen intact.

Hisoka walked through the psuedo-hallway and entered the bathroom. It seemed too bright for what he was going to be doing today. In fact, the sunlight streaming in through the window was bothering him. It had rained for Tsuzuki's family, why was it sunny for his?

'Ending that thought process now,' Hisoka mentally commanded himself, reaching for his sleeve so he could pull his arm through. His hands faltered as it took hold of the cloth. On both hands was the beginning of the bright red design that had been drawn on him 7 years ago.

"D-mn it," Hisoka muttered to himself, staring at the flame-like sketches of ruby color.

This made up for the lack of rain.

Kanagawa was just like Hisoka remembered it.

Which dated back to many, many years prior to the age of 13. It went back to about the time he was 5, a year or so before he began feeling other people's emotions around him. The grounds were naturally clean; it seemed like every blade of grass was growing perfectly in tandem with every other. The cherry trees that had been the talk of the town still bloomed in flawless petals on impeccably knotted black trees. It was like a painting.

Like a sinister painting in a museum somewhere that frightened well-meaning tourists with its seamless, lifeless symmetry.

"This place is pretty," Tsuzuki said awkwardly.

"Pretty creepy."

"That, too."

The house was the scariest part of it all. It was something that seemed to be created right out of The Haunted House Manual, if such a book had ever been written. The traditional Japanese mansion practically screamed of the ghosts of people who had been born there, lived there, loved there, suffered there, died there. In a way Hisoka was grateful that if he'd had to have a prison, it had been the basement—the least amount of spirits, or the memories thereof, roamed there.

The basement.

"The basement," Hisoka said aloud, softly.

"What?"

"That's where I lived for the greater portion of my life," Hisoka said bitterly. "I want to go there first. Get myself good and p-ssed off before I go see the folks, y'know? It's a good place to start."

"If…that's what you want," Tsuzuki said, putting his hand on Hisoka's shoulder. Hisoka wasn't sure if it was to follow him through teleportation to the basement—which was what it wound up being anyway—or if it was some attempt at comfort.

"I forgot how bad it smells down here," Hisoka said plainly.

"Never mind that, it's a wonder you didn't go blind."

The basement would have been pitch-black had it not been for the rays of sunlight streaming in through the small box window. Tsuzuki could tell that, at night, vision would be impossible for the normal human eye. The room presently took on a dark navy tint, spreading shadows across the walls.

Tsuzuki cast his eyes about. They landed on a small, dirty lump of mismatched-colored cloth. He went towards it and picked up a patch of solid colors.

"Hisoka, I think these were…"

"My old clothes, yeah. No wonder it reeks down here. They haven't been down to clean this place at all…"

"Look at how little you were." Tsuzuki stared at the small, dirty, moth-eaten, white kimono he held in his hands like it was some long-lost treasure. "You must've been adorable," he teased.

Hisoka rolled his eyes. Tsuzuki rubbed the cloth in his fingers. The clothes, like the room, were freezing. They couldn't have provided much warmth in wintertime, or during storms…the image of a 7-year-old Hisoka, huddled in a little ball in the corner with only this thin, cheap material to keep him warm…

He gripped the kimono with trembling hands and then forced himself to put it down. As he replaced it his hand brushed against something sharp. He cleared away some of the others clothes until he unearthed the jagged object. A shard of broken glass.

"Hisoka?" He turned around, holding the glass up.

"Oh, that…my parents used to send food down to me. That's from a drinking glass." He paused, glancing uncomfortably, almost guiltily, at the shard. "I…tried to kill myself once, when I was…12, I think. But I got scared…I cr-pped out of it before I actually cut myself." He laughed mockingly. "The maid who brought it to me—her name was Hazama Satsuki, she was my personal doctor in the hospital, too—found out and she flipped. Told my parents. They condescended to come down and yell at me. 'There haven't been any suicides in the Kurosaki family since the Tokugawa period!'," he mimicked, his voice high-pitched and laden with loathing. ""It's shameful and weak of you to even think about it!" So says the people who drove me to it…"

Tsuzuki stared at the glass. It glinted in the sunlight filtering in through the window. He could see it was perfectly clean aside from the dust—no blood or tiny shreds of flesh that he had seen on his own suicide weapon before his soul had passed on.

"This window here," Hisoka sat, slapping the glass with his open palm. "This window was my best friend for awhile. My little portal to the outside world. I used to take it out and wonder around at night when it got too dark. In hindsight, that wasn't such a brilliant idea." He paused, staring at his double-edged sword, the escape that allowed him to be trapped by something much, much worse… "I can probably still fit myself through it. I lost a lot of weight in the hospital…"

Tsuzuki stood up and dropped the shard onto the small pile of old clothes with a small shink sound. He stepped toward Hisoka.

Creak…

"Okay, that wasn't me," Tsuzuki said, looking stricken.

"D-mn it," Hisoka muttered, turning around quickly. The basement door had opened, and a tabi-covered foot had stepped down onto the first stair.

"Who's there?" a young woman's voice yelped, whipping around a flashlight. Hisoka covered his eyes and then squinted through his fingers to see who was assaulting his vision with a low-watt bulb. A young woman with bobbed red hair, dressed in a servant's kimono.

"No, it's not…it can't be…" The young woman nearly dropped her flashlight. "You died years ago…it's not possible… Hisoka-kun?"

"Miya." Hisoka stared at her, eyes wide.

"No way." Miya's hand shook. "You died…I was there, I was there, when they pulled…" Miya's skin was growing steadily paler. "You look exactly like…is this some sick joke!"

"Miya, wait…"

"Stay back!" Miya screeched, aiming the light bulb directly into Hisoka's eyes. "This is…this is impossible! You're dead, I went to your funeral, you…"

"Miya-san, was it?"

Miya suddenly froze. Hisoka took this opportunity to move out of the line of light and look at Miya unhindered. Tsuzuki had teleported behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Miya-san, my name is Tsuzuki Asato, and that person there is Hisoka," Tsuzuki said calmly, trying not to frighten her.

"But, but, he's dead…"

"I'm a Shinigami, and so is he."

"A Shinigami…" Miya repeated dazedly. Her knees were beginning to feel weak. "No way…impossible…"

"Miya," Hisoka said, "ask me something about myself that only you would know."

"H-h-how old were we," Miya began shakily, "when I…when I told you I was going to marry you when we grew up?"

"Four. It was in the middle of April, by the stream in the garden. I told you that marriage was "icky" and it was never going to happen."

"Oh my God." Miya sank to her knees, her eyes as wide as saucers and unwaveringly locked on Hisoka. "But that means…are you back here to kill someone?"

Hisoka shook his head. "That's not what Shinigami do. We collect the souls of dead people before they become ghosts."

"Then you're gonna have to collect mine," Miya said, pressing her hand to her chest, "because you gave me a heart attack."

"Hisoka, how do you know her?" Tsuzuki asked.

"She's Satsuki's daughter," Hisoka explained. "I used to play with her when I was little. Why…a bit jealous, are we?"

Miya looked back and forth between her childhood playmate and the man standing behind her. "No wonder you told me that marriage was icky…"

"Miya." Miya flinched a little. When she looked up again, Hisoka was standing at the foot of the small flight of stairs, looking into her face. "What were you saying earlier, that you were there when they pulled something?"

"Oh." Miya's mouth open and closed several times, trying to figure out what should pass beyond its borders. "You didn't…you didn't know?"

"What didn't I know, Miya?"

"That they…your parents…you used to slip into comas sometimes and…the last time you did they…they took you off Life Support." Miya's eyes squinted to try and stop tears at the indescribable, untranslatable look on Hisoka's face. "I…didn't want them to…" Her hand reached out and grabbed his sleeve, and she pulled his limp appendage towards her and buried her face in the back of his hand. "I told them not to…"

""Satsuki, pull the plug"," Hisoka whispered. "I heard them…the last thing I heard…"Satsuki, pull the plug"…Son of a b-tch."

Miya choked. Tears spilled over her bottom eyelids. Satsuki's assistant had had to hold her back, her screaming lips and her crying eyes and her flailing limbs, as the cold, lifeless machinery was removed from Hisoka's cold, lifeless body. Dimly she felt Tsuzuki put a hand on her head; through her tears she saw his other hand reach out to Hisoka. Hisoka stepped away from them both, pulling his arm out of Miya's grasp.

"What were you doing down here, Miya?" Tsuzuki asked, giving Hisoka a moment to gather his thoughts.

"I…heard noises."

"Miya, are my parents here?" Hisoka asked, his voice an odd mixture of strangled and flat.

"What…oh…yes." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Is that why you're…"

"I'm here to see them," Hisoka said steadily, "because I want them to tell me how much they hate me to my face. So I can tell them I hate them just as much. So I can make them feel just as sh-tty as they made me feel. So that it's over."

Miya tried to pull herself up on shaking legs. Tsuzuki grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet.

"Hisoka-kun!" she suddenly gasped, tripping down the stairs and falling against him, burying her face in his collarbone. Falteringly, Hisoka's hand ascended and landed on her head.

"Miya, I need you to take me to my parents," he said composedly. "I'm closing off my Empathy and I won't be able to feel their presence."

Miya nodded silently and pulled back. She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her palm. "C-come on, I'll…take you to them…"

She turned away, seemingly incapable of looking him in the face. Her stride was hurried as she walked up the steps, Hisoka following her quietly. As he passed Tsuzuki on the steps his partner's hand reached out and slowly collected Hisoka's own hand. Hisoka let his hand settle in Tsuzuki's grasp as they silently followed Miya through a labyrinth of hallways Hisoka vaguely remembered from over 15 years ago, until they reached a sliding paper door leading to what Hisoka recalled was the study.

"Nagare-sama, Rui-sama," Miya called, her voice quivering.

"Who is it?" a female voice called back, and Hisoka's hand twitched in Tsuzuki's. He pulled his hand free and balled it into a fist.

"Miya," the servant answered. "You have…guests."

"Well, send them in," a male from within ordered.

"I-I have to warn you," Miya said, reaching for the door handle. "They're going to come as a shock…Rui-sama ought to be sitting down…"

Miya pulled the sliding door back, and Hisoka's eyes took it all in. Nagare standing by the bookshelf, in the process of putting a book back. Rui sitting on the cushioned chair, her hands resting on her stomach.

For a moment Hisoka couldn't think.

"You're dead."

It was Nagare who spoke. Rui seemed incapable of exercising her voice box, as was evident by her stare. It was a statement, an accusation, everything but an exclamation of surprise.

Hisoka swallowed. His throat needed the coating of saliva the way metal hinges need oil. "Yeah. You saw to that personally, didn't you?"

"I knew you were a demon," Rui hissed, regaining her senses. "Come back for revenge, have you?"

"Wrong on both counts," Hisoka answered. "I'm not and I never was a demon. And if I was back for revenge, I wouldn't have waited four years."

"Then what are you?" Nagare asked collectedly, putting down his baggage.

"A Shinigami."

"Interesting," Nagare commented. "Is someone dying?"

"Not in any literal sense," Hisoka said, surprising himself with the calmness of his voice.

"Then, pray tell, why have you interrupted our lives?" Nagare asked.

Hisoka laughed, a short bark of derision. "Interrupting your lives, am I? What about you interrupting my life by pulling the plug?"

"How did you find out?"

""Satsuki, pull the plug"," Hisoka recited sardonically. "Just couldn't stand to look at me any longer, could you? Not that you cared, anyway. You showed up once a month in the hospital to see me, at max. What, was I getting too expensive?"

"No," Nagare answered smoothly.

"Oh, so it was good for your image to put your son out of his misery."

"No. That was just a benefit."

"A benefit. Ha. A benefit. Then why the h-ll'd you do it?"

Nagare glanced at Rui, and then back at Hisoka. "There are many things about this family you don't know."

"Pray enlighten me, o great one," Hisoka snapped sarcastically.

"Contrary to your ignorant assertions, Hisoka, you are a demon." Nagare stepped forward, practically daring Hisoka to make some sign of comprehending his words.

Hisoka glared at him with stubborn, defiant eyes. "Go on."

"As a child, you were possessed by one of the roaming spirits about this house," Nagare continued, as if delivering a lecture and not an epiphany. "That is why you developed into that monstrosity that you became."

"Monstrosity? Lovely," Hisoka snorted. "I could feel other people's emotions; I didn't sprout fangs and hunt for victims. And that doesn't explain why you nixed Life Support."

"The way to exorcise a demon from a house is to kill the host. After three years, your death was seemly. That is why we, ehm…"nixed" the Life Support."

""That's why", he says," Hisoka muttered. ""That's why". To hate your own child that much."

"You weren't our child."

"No, I was your child," Hisoka snapped correctively. "You did the dirty with her," he jabbed his finger in Rui's direction, "and 9 months later I popped out. That makes me your son, as much as we both loathe admitting it. Your monstrous son who went through one of the most traumatic experiences of anyone's life and you couldn't be moved to care." There was some frightening emptiness in Hisoka's eyes. "Do you remember the diagnosis?"

Nagare stared at him sullenly. "What are you…"

"Massive amounts of blood loss," Hisoka interrupted. "Bone bruises on my pelvis. A fractured coccyx. You know what that is? A broken a-s. He broke my a-s. Ever wonder what it'd be like having your nerves explode when you try to sit down, hmm, father of mine? And those were just my physical injuries. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, paranoid schizophrenia…oh, yeah, mustn't forget those night terrors, and consequently insomnia. Add that all up and times that by three, one for each year. That means I suffered one h-ll of a lot. You wanna know what the worst part was? Knowing you didn't give a SH-T!"

For the first time Hisoka's control slipped. His face was burning; his eyes were glistening; his hands were trembling. His knees seemed almost ready to give way.

""Satsuki, pull the plug"," Hisoka repeated, his eyes unblinkingly directed at Nagare. "You cold b-st-rd."

"Is that all you came here for?" Nagare asked flatly, frowning at Hisoka.

"No," Hisoka spat. "I came here to see if there was some tiny little speck of remorse, one little shred of humanity left in you that would warrant my forgiveness. Unfortunately that's fallen flat."

"Then why don't you just leave?" Rui snarled.

"Because I've got one other thing to say to you. Something that's going to crush you when you hear it."

"Oh, it is, is it?" Rui mocked. "What could you possibly say to crush us?"

"I'm happy."

The words were knocked out of the air with those three syllables.

"Despite all the sh-t you did to me, I managed to accomplish such terribly difficult things like forming social relationships and, Heavens alive, actually falling in love. With a guy, of all the irony. This one right here, in fact. You know, I'm feeling his emotions right now and he's pretty p-ssed off." Hisoka swiped his arm across the air and blocked Tsuzuki's path. "Let me handle this, Tsuzuki."

He took a step forward, drawing a frightening parallel between himself and his father. "I came back here to tell you that I hope when you die you turn over in your graves knowing that I'm happy in spite of your best efforts."

Nagare's sullen gaze took on a bored quality. "Is that all?"

"…Yes." Hisoka stepped backwards, his gaze not averting from his father. "I came here to tell you that you're both a waste of oxygen and my prayers are with any kids you try to destroy in the future. Don't worry, old man, this'll be the last time I "interrupt" your pathetic lives. It's not like I'm exactly attached to this place."

"Good. We have an accord then." Nagare smirked, stretching out his hand smugly.

Hisoka viciously smacked away the proffered hand. "Scr-w you, you arrogant son of a b-tch. I'm outta here."

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki made to grab onto Hisoka's arm but he had disappeared before Tsuzuki could reach him. Another hand suddenly descended on Tsuzuki's arm, and he whipped around to see Miya's alarmed face.

"I think I know where he's going," she half-whispered. "Come on, hurry…!" She pulled Tsuzuki away from the room before he could think.

"Miya-san, wait!" Tsuzuki yelped, tripping along behind her as she refused to relinquish his sleeve. "Where are we…?"

"He's already been to the basement," Miya said, not slowing her pace. "And he's just seen his parents. If he came back here to say good-bye to this place, where else is he gonna go?"

"You don't mean…" Tsuzuki stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide. "You don't…can't mean…"

"He's gonna go to that tree!" Miya yelled, panicked and teary. "Come on, we gotta go to him!" She went tearing off down the hallways, Tsuzuki on her heels.

When they first caught sight of him on the path, they saw his still form standing before a gnarled cherry tree sitting serenely among a forest of others just like it. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he was staring emptily at it.

"Hisoka." Tsuzuki's fingers brushed Hisoka's arm and Hisoka did not turn his head or make any sign that he acknowledged the touch. "Hisoka, don't do this…"

"Did you know you can hear someone if they yell from here all the way back to the house?" Hisoka asked, unblinkingly. "Ha. I told myself for years that no one could hear me, and that was why no one came."

"Hisoka-kun," Miya gulped tearfully, "we heard…the servants wanted to…"

"D-mn him," Hisoka muttered, about both Muraki and Nagare. He slammed his hand against the trunk off the tree and dug his nails into the bark. His knees that had been threatening collapse folded and he sunk to the ground. "If I hadn't been so weak…I practically let him. I gave up fighting with my father; of course I gave up fighting Muraki. D-mn it, I let him!"

"Hisoka, stop it!" Tsuzuki rushed forward and sunk to his knees, pulling Hisoka into him.

Hisoka's eyes whipped open. His body struggled to free itself from Tsuzuki's grasp but Tsuzuki hung on doggedly, refusing to loosen his hold.

"Miya-san, stay back!" he yelled at the horrified servant girl who stared with round, frightened eyes. He pressed one side of Hisoka's head to his face, Hisoka's ear near his mouth. "Hisoka, calm down, Hisoka, it's not happening now, please, listen to me, Hisoka, please calm down…"

"NO!" Hisoka shrieked, trying to shove Tsuzuki's face away. From the corner of his eye Tsuzuki saw red marks swelling on Hisoka's flailing hands. Unthinkingly he grabbed them as Hisoka managed to pull himself away. Losing his balance, Hisoka landed on his back, his wrists caught in Tsuzuki's hands. He screamed, the way a terrified child screams while being beaten, the way an injured horse screams before one can no longer stand the shrieking and has to put the animal out of its misery. His wide emerald eyes were clouded; they weren't seeing the amethysts that belonged to Tsuzuki, but the circles of steel that belonged to Muraki.

Tsuzuki pulled Hisoka off the ground and against his torso. Hisoka thrashed, his movements growing progressively weaker as Tsuzuki's hold refused to weaken. Tsuzuki clasped Hisoka's head to his shoulder and tried again.

"Hisoka, he's not here, it's just me, it's just Tsuzuki, please, Hisoka, please!"

The last bit of fight deserted Hisoka and his body fell still. For an eternity of three seconds he was silent, and then…wailing. Dry sobs and heaves, as his fingers curled in to Tsuzuki's shirt. Tsuzuki willed his arms to relax but Hisoka remained clinging to him. Tsuzuki felt rather than saw Hisoka's eyes restore to their natural state and his brain depart from memory and enter the present.

Another weight shifted and Miya knelt down beside the pair. Slowly, she bowed her face into the dirt, and then rested her head against Hisoka's leg.

"I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly, tears pouring into her mouth. "I should have come out…I should have done more…you were my friend…I'm so sorry, Hisoka-kun…" She choked on a sob and her words turned into dust.

Tsuzuki buried his face in Hisoka's hair and quietly began to cry.

When Tsuzuki returned home in the late afternoon, Hisoka cradled limply in his arms, he first put his fiancé to bed and then went about keeping his hands busy, trying desperately to keep his mind off the previous hours.

The sudden appearance of a rain shower did not help.

When night fell and he prepared for bed, one look at Hisoka's tearstained faced sent him with a blanket and pillow to a fitful, uneasy sleep on the living room couch.

At first he thought the couch cushions lightly shifting was part of his dream. It wasn't until something spoke that he woke up completely.

"Why the h-ll are you sleeping down here?"

"I didn't…couldn't disturb you," Tsuzuki replied. "Why are you down here?"

"Couldn't sleep anymore," Hisoka answered simply. "The rain woke me up."

"Have you resolved your issues, going back there?"

"With my parents, yes. Wasn't exactly hard. I'm glad, actually, that they don't have any remorse. Otherwise I'd have some tie to them. Still hurts like h-ll, though."

"What about…?" Tsuzuki cautiously let his hand fall on Hisoka's face. Hisoka twitched. Tsuzuki's hand faltered, and then resolutely curled around the base of Hisoka's skull, pulling Hisoka's head underneath his chin.

"Do you remember the first time we saw rain together?"

Hisoka made an "mm" noise in his throat.

"It was after our first case," Tsuzuki continued, "when you were kidnapped and we had to escape from that factory. I told you that I would protect you from then on and you asked me why I cared. I told you "Because you're my partner". That was four years ago. And that still hasn't changed."

Hisoka pulled his head backed and looked up into Tsuzuki's face.

"There's a euphemism—is that the word?—for a couple like us. "Life partners". I think people usually find it insulting, but I think it's perfect."

"How so?"

"There's something I figured out about partners, work- or life-. They're part of a team and therefore part of each other. They have to work in a way that benefits them both, otherwise the partnership falls apart. What's good for one has to be good for the other. And in this case, you're the one who has to decide what's good for us."

"What are you on about?" There was no callousness, only curiosity.

"Hisoka…I couldn't bear it, if I ever heard you scream like that again." He softly leaned his forehead against Hisoka's. "So what you have to decide…if you want to put off lovemaking, if you want to try and forget and fight Muraki and your parents off even just a little bit more, then that's what I want, too. For me to deny you that decision would end both our partnerships. I can't…won't let that happen. I love you. What makes you happy makes me happy. What's good for you is what'll be good for me."

"Tsuzuki…" Hisoka swallowed, hard, and buried his face in Tsuzuki's collarbone. Tsuzuki waited in silence for what could have been two minutes or two hours; he was drifting into sleep when a tearful, shuddery breath reawakened his senses.

"I want…I want you…to make love to me…on the night we get married."

Tsuzuki curled himself against Hisoka.

"Then that's what I want."

Outside, the clouds spat out the last dying droplets of rainwater.

But I'm alive

I survived you

And the bitter taste

The years I've wasted

All the hate is gone

'Cause I'm alive