Warnings for pulled-out-of-ass Tsuzuki backstory! And this time, since I am *blatantly saying I AM MAKING THIS UP* I sure hope no one yells at me for it. -_- Also, uh... thanks to TK for helping me make up said backstory, and D-chan for unknowingly giving me an idea that led to some of this stuff! Which I never told her about, so ha! Now you all know. ^^

Chapter Seven

"Do you think he's going to be okay?"

"I think so. It was just his empathy, that's all. I think it got overloaded by the argument he was having."

"That bad?"

"And how."

"I think he's coming around."

"Oh, yeah. Good. Bon? Bon, can you hear me?"

Hisoka slowly focused on the two men standing above him, one a blonde in a worn turtleneck and jeans, the other in a neat suit with piercing blue eyes. For a second, he thought he felt a vague flicker of recognition, and then it was gone. "Where am I?" he managed. He felt drugged, slow. The world was coming in through a haze.

"You're in the Meifu," the blonde said. "The land of the dead. I'm Watari and this is Tatsumi. You know us already, but I'm willing to bet you don't remember that from what Tatsumi's been telling me. How are you feeling?"

"Fuzzy," Hisoka answered. He couldn't think of any better way to put that, but he was aware that it made little sense. Would they know about his empathy? How did they know him at all? Were they dead? His head ached and he closed his eyes momentarily. "What happened?"

"Ah . . . you got in a pretty spectacular argument with your father," Watari said, busying himself checking Hisoka's pulse. It made Hisoka want to laugh. Dead people had pulses. Who would have thought?

"Not then," he said impatiently. "Before. Why don't I have my memory?"

Watari and Tatsumi exchanged a look. Now that he was a little more awake, Hisoka noted that the latter was pale and unhappiness and worry were rolling off both of them in waves. He sat up abruptly and the world spun. Watari helped him lie back down again.

"What's going on?" he asked sharply. "Just tell me."

"You're a Shinigami," Tatsumi said simply. He explained, briefly, the purpose and nature of being a Shinigami while Hisoka listened silently. "You and your partner, Tsuzuki-san, were investigating a case in Aomori. Some sort of spirit was taking other people's life energy -- and with it, their memories. Apparently, you and Tsuzuki-san found it."

"Tsuzuki-san." Hisoka frowned. "Where is he? He ran away from me in Aomori. I don't know what happened in his life, but I guess it can't have been good."

They exchanged that glance again. "We don't know much about Tsuzuki's life," Watari said regretfully.

"Where is he now?" Hisoka asked through clenched teeth. He didn't know why he was so worried, but he couldn't deny the fear that twisted his stomach and tore at his mind. "Why are you looking like that?"

"Tsuzuki-san has been . . . taken in by a mutual enemy of ours," Tatsumi finally said, his voice calm and deliberate. "Given that he has no memory of the man, he didn't realize that he was lying."

"Is he all right?" Hisoka asked. His throat felt constricted. It was hard to breathe, and yet he still didn't know what he was so afraid of.

"He seems fine," Watari assured him. "We just haven't been able to get him back yet. He doesn't know us, see, and since Captain Control here got kinda pissy, now he sees us as a threat."

Tatsumi gave Watari a dirty look. "Like you would have reacted any better," he snapped.

"What was happening?" Hisoka asked suspiciously.

"It's not important," Tatsumi said through clenched teeth. "The important thing is convincing Tsuzuki that we're not a threat and that Muraki is."

"Muraki?" Hisoka asked, startled. "Dr. Muraki Kazutaka?"

They both stared at him. "I thought you didn't have your memory," Watari said slowly.

"He was my doctor," Hisoka said. "But you know, it's strange. I don't remember much about him, even though I'm pretty sure he must have come to see me at least every week or so."

Tatsumi and Watari exchanged glances again.

"What's going on?" Hisoka asked in a thin voice.

"It would take too long to explain," Watari said, trying to think this through. "The important thing right now is to get Tsuzuki back and then see what we can do about your memories. We have to catch this spirit and figure out how it does what it does, and how to reverse it. We may not have much time. The other people it attacked died after four days. I don't think that would happen to you, because, you know, already dead. But still, it doesn't seem like a good idea to wait."

"So let's go get Tsuzuki back," Hisoka said, trying to get up. The world spun a little, but not as badly. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Quite a while," Watari said. "It's nearly dawn."

"We should get to Kyoto before Muraki and Tsuzuki leave," Tatsumi said. He gave Hisoka a long, steady look. "Are you up to travelling? If anyone can get through to Tsuzuki, it's going to be you."

"I'm fine," Hisoka said. He sat up and managed to stay upright. The world faded in and out. "Just . . . give me a minute to steady myself."

"We'll get you some tea," Watari said, and tactfully left the room. Tatsumi followed him. As soon as they were out of the infirmary, Watari sagged against the wall. "I never even thought of that," he said softly. "That Muraki would have been his doctor all that time . . . God only knows what the man was doing to him."

"We can probably wager a guess," Tatsumi said grimly. "But it makes sense. Where would the fun be if he didn't get to watch what happened?"

Watari shuddered. "Let's not think about it."

"But he didn't recognize Muraki when they first met again," Tatsumi said. "When he first became a Shinigami. He didn't know Muraki then. Why does he remember him now?"

"Because the memory spell was lifted by Muraki in Nagasaki," Watari said. "Let's take this chronologically. Muraki was evil. Muraki blocked Hisoka's memories of his evilness. Hisoka died. He met Muraki again. The block on his memories was released. Now all his memories of his afterlife are gone -- but the block is still gone, even though he doesn't remember it being removed."

Tatsumi put two fingers to his temple. "This is getting complicated. What do you think when he sees Muraki again? Obviously, he isn't connecting the name now with what happened to him. But when he sees him . . ."

"I don't know," Watari said. "I just don't know."

Hisoka emerged from the infirmary. He still looked shaky, but determined. "All right, let's go," he said.

There was a pause, then Tatsumi nodded, and then went.

~~~~

// "This way, get him!"

Tsuzuki ran down the alley, his heart thudding painfully in his chest, his breath raw in his throat. He had been running for what felt like forever, his hand clenching down on Ruka's as he dragged her along behind her. What had he done this time? Why did they hate him? Why would they never just leave him alone?

"Over here, Tsuzuki," Ruka gasped out, her hand sliding out of his as she darted down a narrow alley. Tsuzuki nearly stumbled, then managed to regain his balance and join her. The two of them ran top speed to the end of the small street.

"Oh, no," Tsuzuki gasped out, seeing the accident where a cart had overturned, spilling several barrels of tofu into the road. He had enough time to swerve, but Ruka tripped and went flying. "Ruka-chan!" He skidded around and started to help her up.

"There they are!"

Ruka gave a little half-scream as Tsuzuki dragged her to her feet. Before they could start running again, they were surrounded.

"What do we do?" she whispered, clinging to the front of his shirt.

"Leave us alone!" Tsuzuki tried, appealing to the mob that had surrounded them. There was some mocking, derisive laughter. Then the first stone flew, then the second. It glanced off his cheekbone, bouncing away to lie harmlessly on the ground. Tsuzuki's cheek stung and his eye filled with tears involuntarily. Ruka cried out as another rock hit her in the shoulder.

"Stop it!" Tsuzuki said. "Stop it, let her go! Do what you want to me but let Ruka-chan go!"

Only laughter answered him. //

"Tsuzuki-san?"

Tsuzuki sat bolt upright, his hands clenching down involuntarily. His breathing was fast and much too harsh. He realized slowly that his hands were practically embedded in Muraki's upper arms. His eyes felt too large for his head, wide and frantic.

"Were you dreaming?" Muraki asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I . . ." Tsuzuki's voice trailed off.

"It's all right," Muraki said. "You don't have to tell me. It's past dawn. We should be getting up if we want to eat before we catch the early train back to Aomori. Hopefully there we can figure out how you lost your memory and do something about it, ne?" Privately, Muraki's plans were slightly different from this, but that was nothing that Tsuzuki needed to know.

Tsuzuki nodded. "Hai . . . I'll get dressed."

Muraki gave him an admiring look, given that he was only wearing a plain white T-shirt that had been underneath the button down. "I'll see you downstairs soon."

"Okay," Tsuzuki whispered. When Muraki had left the room, closing the door behind him, he crawled out of bed. Ruka's screams were still ringing in his ears. He looked through the drawers and found some new clothes. His suit from the day before was dirty and wrinkled, but somehow the new clothes didn't seem . . . well, like his.

He shrugged off these thoughts and pulled on a pair of jeans and a maroon sweater. They were both a little too big, but the bagginess was somewhat nice. He ran the brush through his hair quickly and checked in the mirror and was pleased to note that he looked all right.

He opened the window and looked outside. Everything was coated in a thick layer of fog, since it was still very early. But the air was already warm, and he took in a few deep breaths, trying to rid himself of the memories.

After he felt somewhat more centered, he turned around and went downstairs.

Muraki was waiting, and there was some breakfast on the table. Tsuzuki felt queasy when he looked at it, but he couldn't deny that he was hungry. He sat down and picked up the tea, staring into it.

"You should eat," Muraki said, his voice concerned. "You didn't at all yesterday."

"I know," Tsuzuki said, then with a muttered 'itadakimasu', he began to choke down the food. It wasn't that the food was bad, it was just that he didn't particularly feel like eating it.

There was a knock on the door, then it opened before either of them could answer. Oriya walked in with a pot of tea. He glared briefly at Muraki before setting it down on the table. "How are you feeling this morning, Tsuzuki-san?" he asked in a neutral tone of voice.

"Better, I guess," Tsuzuki murmured, shoving his food around on his plate.

"Good," Oriya said. "Because there's someone that wants to see you." He turned slightly to the doorway, and Hisoka poked his head in. "You can come in," he said.

Muraki gave Oriya an incredulous look, following by a thunderous glare.

"Tsuzuki?" Hisoka asked hesitantly.

Tsuzuki blinked at him owlishly. "Oh . . . Hisoka. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Hisoka said impatiently. "You ran off in Aomori and I . . . I was worried. It's -- " His voice cut off abruptly as he looked in Muraki's direction. The world blurred, paled, went grainy. He found himself gasping for breath.

"Are you okay?" Tsuzuki asked worriedly, pushing back from the table.

Hisoka grabbed for the support and Tsuzuki caught him. His hands clenched down on Tsuzuki's forearms.

Muraki couldn't help but smile. "I see you remember me, boy," he said, and was all too aware of Oriya's eyes on him, watching him closely. He knew he was going to be judged by how he responded to Hisoka's reaction to him.

After a few seconds, Hisoka managed to catch his breath. He let go of Tsuzuki's arms and straightened up. "You . . ." he breathed out, and the single word contained enough anger and hatred to stop a charging lion.

Tsuzuki looked between the two of them in confusion. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice small and vulnerable. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Muraki assured him, and kissed his forehead lightly. "Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of this."

"You'll take care of this?" Hisoka asked, and laughed harshly. "The same way you took care of me, maybe? Because you did a great job at that. Oh, you took care of me all right."

"What's he talking about?" Tsuzuki asked, and his voice was a little firmer, a little more demanding.

"Don't worry -- " Muraki begin, but Tsuzuki cut him off.

"No, I'm worried. I want to know." He turned and looked at Hisoka. "If he won't tell me, you tell me. What are you talking about?"

"He killed me," Hisoka said flatly. "You were right. We're dead. And now I remember why. He cursed me and after three years of . . ." His voice trailed off. He knew instinctively, from the looks on Watari and Tatsumi's faces that morning, that he had not told anyone what Muraki had been doing to him. "Three years of being sick, I died. Why the hell are you here?"

"He's been helping me," Tsuzuki said weakly.

"I'm sure he has," Hisoka said bitterly. "Look, I don't know what happened last night, but that guy with the glasses asked me if I could come get you. It's all one big mistunderstanding -- we're your friends, and this guy isn't. He's evil. Can't you feel it?"

"He's not . . ." Tsuzuki's voice faltered and he looked uncertainly at Muraki. "He's been very kind to me . . ."

"Oh, yeah?" Hisoka asked. "Probably because he wants something from you. Right, Muraki?" His gaze shifted from his partner to Muraki, and his eyes narrowed. "That's it, we're leaving."

"Wait," Tsuzuki said, pressing one hand against his temple. "I don't understand." He turned to Muraki. "Please, tell me what's going on. You . . . you can't be evil." Back to Hisoka. "If he's evil, why would he have been kind to me?"

"Because he wants you, kiddo."

Everyone turned to look at Oriya.

He laughed, particularly at the look on Muraki's face. "Don't deny it, I've been seeing the way he's looked at you ever since he got here. But your friend here is right. Muraki killed him. So you may want to put some thought into what you do next."

Tsuzuki blinked at Muraki, a wounded look on his face.

"Let's go," Hisoka said, and his hand closed on Tsuzuki's wrist. Tsuzuki allowed the smaller boy to tow him out of the room, then out of the restaurant altogether.

Muraki looked at Oriya through narrowed eyes. "Why did you do that?" he asked.

Oriya grinned. "Because someone needed to," he said, and then left the room without another word.

~~~~

"What's going on?" Tsuzuki asked in a small voice, once they were outside. Now that they were safely away from Muraki, Hisoka had begun to tremble. It was nothing big; just fine termors that made his entire body shake. He was rubbing his hands up and down his arms as if he were cold. "Where are we going?"

"To meet some friends," Hisoka said shortly. Tatsumi and Watari had agreed to wait at a small cafe two blocks away, under the circumstances that Hisoka would not press the issue if it looked like it might come down to a fight.

"Did that man really kill you?" Tsuzuki couldn't help but ask.

"Yes," Hisoka said. "Look, there's a lot I really don't understand yet, but the others can explain it to me. We can trust them. I can feel it."

"Okay," Tsuzuki said, feeling numb.

Hisoka stopped dead and turned to look at him. "What the hell did you run away from me for, you stupid idiot?"

Tsuzuki blinked at him, then managed a wan smile. "I . . . I didn't know what to do. Everything I could remember was just . . . swallowing me up."

Hisoka sighed and began to walk again, at a more sedate pace, letting Tsuzuki follow under his own steam rather than dragging him. "I know," he said with a sigh. "Bad things happened to both of us, I know. But Muraki . . . he's not who you thought he was."

"He protected me," Tsuzuki said softly. "He was kind to me."

Hisoka opened his mouth to say any number of things that Muraki had done to him, but he realized that the comments would probably do more harm than good. So with a sigh, he kept his silence. The rest of the walk passed without a word being spoken. Tatsumi and Watari were sitting on a bench outside the cafe, which wasn't open yet. It was still too early, barely seven o'clock.

Tsuzuki meeped when he saw Tatsumi, but didn't run away. He merely gave the man a suspicious look.

"I'm sorry for frightening you last night," Tatsumi said quietly.

Tsuzuki's wan smile reappeared. "That's all right," he said. "If . . . If Muraki is like what Hisoka says, then I guess I understand why you wanted to get me away from him so badly. But . . . should I know you? Everything's all mixed up in my head."

Tatsumi and Watari introduced themselves, then Watari took it upon himself to explain the situation. It was not so much because he knew more details, although he did about the case specifically, but more because he was less threatening than Tatsumi and Tsuzuki was liable to take the news better.

"So," he concluded, "we have to go back to Aomori and figure out what was going on. Hopefully you two left notes or something on how you found that thing and we can find it. I don't think you can lose your memories twice." This statement was delivered with a wink, and was meant to be reassuring, but both Hisoka and Tsuzuki looked profoundly nervous.

Watari sighed. "But first, I want to ask you two a few questions, to see if the spell really did short-circuit or if it's still at work."

"Okay," Tsuzuki said uncertainly.

"Your loss of memory is total? From the moment of your death?"

Tsuzuki nodded. Hisoka opened his mouth, shut it, and also nodded.

"Bon, you looked uncertain. Why?"

"Because . . . parts before my death were missing too," he mumbled. "But seeing Muraki brought them back, so never mind."

"Ah." Watari considered. Other victims had lost their personalities, but that certainly hadn't happened in this case. Tsuzuki was just as traumatized as he'd been when he'd first become a Shinigami. Not that Watari had been present for it, but the shadows of it could still be seen -- and definitely were after they brought him back from Kyoto. Hisoka seemed the same as always, if a bit quieter, and that was probably due to his discomfort with the situation.

Tatsumi gave him a questioning look, and he realized his thoughts had gotten sidetracked. "Ah, gomen," he said. "What about your energy? Are you feeling sick? Tired? More tired than usual, I mean."

Hisoka shook his head. Tsuzuki said, "Well, I didn't get much sleep, but other than that I'm all right."

"Good." Watari turned to Tatsumi. "I really think it must have just short-circuited. That's the only explanation I can come up with for it. Which is both good and bad. It's good in that we don't have to worry about any more of a time limit than we already had. But if there's no bond between them and it, we're going to have a hell of a time finding it again."

Tatsumi sighed. "Perfect," he said, and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"What time limit?" Hisoka asked suspiciously. Watari had not mentioned this in his synopsis of the case.

"Ah, well," he said, "this thing only kills a certain number of people before going dormant again. We've still got about two weeks, so don't worry about it too much." That was if this sudden, unexpected turn of events hadn't sent it into dormancy early. Watari thought it was best to not mention that.

"And what happens if we don't catch it by then?" Tsuzuki asked, suddenly wide-eyed. "Are we going to be without our memories forever?"

Watari coughed. "We'll figure something out," he assured the panicking Shinigami. "We always do. Anyway, so, it's back to Aomori we go. You can transport instantly. Ah -- you do remember how to teleport, right? I think it might be a bad idea to try if you don't remember . . ."

Tatsumi cleared his throat. "I'll be going back to the office, Watari-san," he said.

Watari blinked at him, then nodded. It was clear that Tatsumi's presence was making Tsuzuki uncomfortable after the fight they'd nearly had. In any case, the Shokan Department would practically cease to function without Tatsumi; he couldn't spend the day on a wild goose chase of any sort. "All righty," he said. "I'll check in tonight."

"You'd better," Tatsumi said, before disappearing, and Watari thought he saw honest concern -- not only for Tsuzuki, but for himself and Hisoka as well -- in his normally cool blue eyes.

"Aomori then?" Hisoka asked, glancing at Tsuzuki. There was an expression of slight worry on his face, but Watari was unsure of exactly why.

"Aomori," he said with a decisive nod. "I have the address of your hotel -- it was in the financial records, since Tatsumi got the reservations and everything. We can start there. Tsuzuki?"

Tsuzuki jumped slightly, jerked out of his thoughts. "Aa," he said sheepishly. "I'm listening."

Hisoka rolled his eyes.

Watari chose not to comment. "Then let's go."

~~~~