Notes: See Kouri. See Kouri play a little game called "how many fandoms can she write for at one time?" See Kouri's chapters coming out slowly.

....had I mentioned that lately I seem to have totally lost my mind?

Warnings: Let's see... angst, yaoi, blood, Hisoka-torture, angst, Tsuzuki-torture, Muraki being a smug bastard, cliffhangers, Tsuzuki/Hisoka, angst, spoilers for all the Yami series and parts of the manga, Hisoka-torture, fluff, sap, Tatsumi/Tsuzuki, sorry no Akimiya anymore, maybe a bit of Watari/Tatsumi if I get bored, angst, non-consensual sex, Muraki/anybody who comes near him, violence, Hisoka-torture, and angst. (So in other words, all the stuff you sick and wonderful people loved about my other Yami fics.)

Rated: R, unless my muses get out of hand.

Disclaimer: Hoo boy... if Yami no Matsuei actually belonged to me, you'd probably never see me online, because I'd be too busy watching Hisoka and Tsuzuki make out.

PS: This is *not*, in any way, related to the trilogy with Live Through in the others. New universe. Starting over.

Though I Walk Through the Valley

Prologue

It was really amazing, Tatsumi reflected over his lunch, the way that nothing could change. The way that the world could be torn apart and then sewn back together, and you could hardly even see the stitches. The way that Hisoka could still remain sarcastic and aloof in spite of what had happened, the same way that Tsuzuki could still appear to be cheerful and scatter-brained.

Even more amazing than that was the way that no one challenged either of them to stop pretending. Afraid that the stitches would rip, Tatsumi supposed. No one knew what had happened once Hisoka had gone into that burning building.

No one, that was, except him.

He had teleported in through the shadows and managed to get them out. He would never tell anyone, let alone the two of them, but he had heard the tale end of their conversation. Enough, at least, to be certain of how much they loved each other.

Which was probably why it was driving him absolutely crazy that they were sitting at lunch like nothing had happened. Tsuzuki had only just gotten out of the hospital a few days previous and was still mowing down everything that got in his way that might even be considered sweet. And Hisoka just watched, in that same scornful way as always.

Tatsumi wanted to bang their heads together.

"Oi, long-face." Watari plopped into the chair next to him. "You're looking chipper."

Tatsumi declined to mention that "chipper" was not a word that could be applied to him. Ever. And declined to mention that 003 was trying to burrow down Watari's shirt. The scientist had to have noticed . . . didn't he? "Hello to you too," Tatsumi said, trying not to sound amused. He couldn't equal Hisoka in aloofness, but he could match him step for step in stoicism.

"What's up?" Watari took out his lunch, a little box of sushi. "Want some sushi?" he offered as an afterthought.

"I'm fine, thanks." Tatsumi had long since eaten his own lunch and given way to staring at the wall in thought. He might have stared at Tsuzuki in thought, but he didn't want the other Shinigami to notice. He also didn't want Hisoka to notice; as determined as he seemed to be to not be in love with Tsuzuki, he didn't show any qualms about being protective.

"So why the doom and gloom?" Watari asked, feeding a bit of sushi to 003 before beginning to eat.

"No reason, really," Tatsumi said, sneaking a surreptitious glance at where Tsuzuki was trying to get Hisoka to eat a cookie, and failing miserably.

Watari followed his surreptitious glance not-so-surreptitiously. "Whatcha moping for? They look back to normal. Doesn't that mean everything's okay?" His voice had a distinct tone of 'everything had better be okay, or I'll be annoyed.'

Tatsumi gave him a glance. He knew better than anyone that Watari was a lot less feckless than he seemed, but sometimes the depths of his perception were downright irritating. "I suppose it was silly of me to think that anything might change. Those two will never change."

"Oh, they've changed." Watari shrugged, spearing a bit of sushi and waving it in Tatsumi's face. This earned him a glare which he returned with a delighted grin. "They just don't want to admit it to anyone, particularly not themselves."

"I suppose not," Tatsumi said, trying to sound noncommittal.

"If they change," Watari said, his voice a bit wistful, "then they have to admit that it all happened. Which is something I think they might not be able to do for a long time."

"I wish it had never happened," Tatsumi said, surprising himself with his sudden vehemence.

Watari shrugged. "You know the phrase. What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger."

"A bit ironic, given that we're all already dead," Tatsumi observed.

Watari gave him a bit of an annoyed look. "You know what I mean. They'll get over it. Hm, no, that's not quite the phrase I want. They'll get past it."

Tatsumi studied them as Hisoka gave up on getting Tsuzuki to do any work and left the lunchroom in a huff. Tsuzuki sat with cookie outstretched, looking forlorn, his cheerful mask slipping for a few seconds while he thought no one watched. "Do you think they love each other?" he asked, trying to keep his voice dispassionate.

"Yes," Watari said immediately. "But whether or not they're 'in love' . . . that's something I wouldn't venture a guess on." He shrugged and picked up another piece of sushi. "They'll figure it out. And probably drive us all crazy in the process. Sure you don't want any of this?"

"I'm sure," Tatsumi said, and stood. "I need to get back to work."

"Why the sudden concern?" Watari asked, as they both watched Tsuzuki pack up his lunch. "And why weren't you eating with them?"

"I was, until Tsuzuki practically shoved one of those cookies down my throat," Tatsumi said dryly. "As for my concern, they're going to be getting another assignment at today's staff meeting. I suppose I'm just worried about how they'll handle it."

Watari nodded, frowning. "Does it have anything to do with good old one-eyed and evil?"

Tatsumi couldn't help but snort at that description. "Certainly not that I'm aware of, or I'd be taking care of it myself."

Watari chuckled. "I'll just bet you would. You really want his head on a pike, don't you."

"Don't you?" Tatsumi countered.

"I'd say silver platter," Watari replied.

~~~~

"This," Tsuzuki said, in a heartfelt tone that was usually reserved for chocolate or attempting to get Hisoka to act like he was warm-blooded rather than cold, "is the strangest assignment I've ever gotten."

Hisoka flicked an annoyed glance at him, but was inclined to agree. He flipped through the paperwork that Tatsumi had given them. A series of souls, all coming to the Meifu before their appointed time, and the strangest thing about it was a consistent lack of memory. Each and every one of the souls had amnesia. Total amnesia was rare even among the living, and impossible among the dead -- it was caused by a brain condition, and when freed of the body, the soul remembered.

They had all lived in the same area, which was a blessing in of itself. The worst cases were the ones where they didn't even have a place to start. And, something for which Hisoka was doubly grateful for, this wasn't in Kyoto. Not that he had any serious expectation that Muraki had gone back there, but it was somewhere they knew he could be, and in Hisoka's mind, that was bad enough.

Their destination was Aomori, in the north, which made Hisoka very grateful that it wasn't winter. Snow was one of the few things that he didn't miss about living in the real world. The perpetual yet gentle warmth of the Meifu was very good at staving off depression.

Though it wasn't doing a very good job at the moment. Hisoka studied the pile of papers with a sigh and attempted not to either stare at Tsuzuki or yell at him for not doing any work. If it had been winter, he might have tried to put the job off, on the principle that it could wait. It wasn't in their region, anyway. They had only gotten the job while the pair who normally covered that sector were on vacation, anyway.

"All these victims died in the same way," he said, partially to himself, but also for Tsuzuki's benefit. It wasn't as if he was going to read the files, anyway; he almost always relied on Hisoka to tell him the important bits. Hisoka would have complained, but wading through the paperwork was tedious and it wasn't as if Tsuzuki didn't do his fair share of the work in other departments. Such as the kick-the-bad-guy's-ass department, which Hisoka did not fare so well in. "Slow, some sort of wasting disease. That's all we've got, though. Guess we'll have to talk to the families if we want to know more." That promised to be fun.

"Mm hmm," Tsuzuki said, not sounding as if he were paying a particularly large amount of attention.

"Do you want to go now?" Hisoka asked.

"Of course!" Tsuzuki bounced out of his chair. "We can't let anyone else diiiiiieeee~!!"

Hisoka sighed and stood. "There's been no pacing in the deaths; the timing seems random. If this is a person or a demon, they don't have any pattern that I can see. We'll have to find out if anything related all the victims together."

"Of course!" Tsuzuki said. "Ne, Hisoka, do you think we'll be able to go to the festival?"

"Which festival?" Hisoka asked distractedly, frowning at him.

"Nebuta!" Tsuzuki declared happily. "I wanna see the parade!"

Hisoka frowned. "Isn't it too late for that?"

"Nope," Tsuzuki said. "It's at the beginning of August, which is right now!"

"Tsuzuki, we've got more important work to do than going to festivals," Hisoka remarked, trying not to sound irritable.

"But . . . I wanna see Hisoka in a kimono again!" Tsuzuki replied.

Hisoka immediately turned red right up to the tips of his ears. "Wh-what? Idiot." He folded his arms over his chest and started to stalk away in a huff. He'd been very good at that lately. He tried to remember when Tsuzuki had even ever seen him in a kimono.

Tsuzuki gathered up the paperwork and followed him in what would appear to the untrained eye to be blissful ignorance of his partner's irritation. "Can we please?"

"If we're not too busy," Hisoka snapped. "But I'm not wearing a kimono."

Tsuzuki smiled. "Sankyuu, Hisoka!"

"Stupid idiot," Hisoka muttered under his breath. "Let's get going. Has Tatsumi-san said anything about the hotel arrangements?"

"He's reserved us a room," Tsuzuki said.

"Just one?" Hisoka asked.

Tsuzuki gave him a hurt look. "Yes," he finally said. "Just one."

Hisoka continued to trudge down the hallway, now feeling like a royal ass for hurting Tsuzuki's feelings. He wasn't going to apologize. He hated apologizing. He was not going to -- "Sorry," he mumbled.

Tsuzuki blinked at him. "Ehh?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Hisoka snapped, blushing again. "That was mean."

Tsuzuki smiled again, but this time it was more genuine. "It's okay, Hisoka. I understand."

Hisoka followed him down the hallway, wondering just what it was that Tsuzuki thought he understood.

~~~~