Attention: Here lies a long-winded author's note. PLEASE READ. Please please please. I'll feel like a dork if you don't.

This is sort of an explanation for... parts of this fic. When I started it, it was with the sole intention of making Tsuzuki and Hisoka lose their memories and using that as a vehicle for a quasi-romance and... lots of angst. The problem was that coming up with a way for this to happen was hard. So I tossed around a lot of random details to make the case interesting.

Now I'm stuck attempting to tie all those details together. I *suck*.

Basically, this note is to say: Yes, I'm aware there are inconsistencies. Yes, I'm aware that the "casefic" aspect of this fic really... sort of blows chunks. And no, I don't really care that much. ^^ I stopped writing this for months and months because I was searching for a way to fix it, and I couldn't. So I'm basically going to ignore a lot of the stuff earlier in the fic to make the damn thing *work* again.

And to have lots of angst.

Thank you and enjoy the rest of the fic.

Chapter Eleven

Once back in the Meifu, Watari carefully helped Tsuzuki into one of the beds in the infirmary, and prepared for what he called an 'all night research party'. Hisoka, being sensibly frightened by this, opted to stay in Tsuzuki's room, while Watari went around collecting chocolate, computer disks, and books.

Unfortunately for him, Watari took the objects, once collected, into their room. "To keep an eye on Tsuzuki," he said, with an air of confidence as he set up his laptop. Hisoka gave him a look that bordered between suspicion and annoyance.

However, Watari's idea of a party didn't seem to involve anything loud, so he was able to ignore it. After a while, he dozed, lulled by the steady noise of Watari's typing. He awoke when someone shoved a steaming mug of tea in his voice. "Here," a voice said.

Hisoka jumped a mile in the air. "I-It talked!"

Watari fell out of his chair laughing, while the younger Gushoshin blinked at Hisoka in puzzlement. "Ano?" it finally said.

"And it's floating!" Hisoka squawked. "And – and – and it has a HAT!"

After several minutes of hysterical laughter, Watari managed to compose himself. "Sorry, Bon," he said, wiping tears off his cheeks. "It's just . . . I've never seen anyone actually met the Gushoshin for the first time before, and . . . and you had the exact same reaction I did!" He went off into gales of laughter, while Gushoshin younger looked slightly put out about the whole conversation.

Hisoka only managed a slight whimper.

"Would you like the tea?" Gushoshin Younger finally asked.

"A . . . aa," Hisoka managed, accepting the mug. He sipped at it and was grateful as the warmth spread through him. He hadn't realized how cold he had been after getting drenched in the rainstorm. He noticed suddenly that Watari had changed clothes, and could only assume that the scientist kept some on hand. (Unbeknownst to Hisoka, Watari had actually just changed back into the clothes he had been wearing when the whole misadventure had started.)

Gushoshin floated off, to the sound of Watari's laughter.

Watari went back to typing, after he had finally managed to stop chuckling, frowning at his computer screen. Muraki seemed to have confirmed that what they were hunting was a demon, but Watari knew that it had at one point been human. It might help to figure out how the transformation had taken place; then they might be able to reverse it and undo the spell that it had on Tsuzuki.

"Ne . . . Watari?" Hisoka asked.

Watari glanced over at him. The younger boy was sitting in the chair next to Tsuzuki's bed with the mug clenched between his hands, looking forlornly at his partner. "Yeah?" Watari asked.

"Do you really think that . . . that we can fix this?" Hisoka asked.

"Of course we can," Watari said confidently, his typing not even slowing down. "We've fixed every other scrape that the two of you have gotten into, haven't we?"

"I guess," Hisoka said. "I don't know much about it, though."

"Pfft," Watari said. "Don't worry so much. As long as we keep Muraki from getting much more involved, which I'm sure Tatsumi plans on doing, possibly taking off several of his limbs along the way, we'll be absolutely positively fine!"

Hisoka laughed slightly, but he didn't really sound like he meant it. He finished his tea and put the mug down, staring at Tsuzuki. "It's so strange," he said, shaking his head. "I don't remember, but . . . but it's like I still feel the same . . . however that was . . ."

Watari's lips twitched in a smile, and he quickly directed his attention back to his computer. He was more interested in ever than finding the solution, if only so he could get Tsuzuki and Hisoka to stop mooning over each other constantly. He wondered if Tatsumi would agree . . .

There was a long pause, then Hisoka sighed. He glanced surreptitiously over at Watari before reaching out and sliding his fingers through Tsuzuki's. Watari noticed, but pretended not to, loath to break up the sweet moment. Hisoka's eyes slid closed in exhaustion, and his head nodded slightly.

/ It's so dark in here . . . /

Watari glanced over at Hisoka and noted that he had, in fact, fallen asleep. He grinned and got another blanket, spreading it over the smaller Shinigami's shoulders. Then he sat down at his computer and got back to work. He needed coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

/ Where are you? /

/ I'm here . . . can you see me? Can you hear me? /

Preferably coffee with sugar and cream in it. Watari glanced over at the two sleeping Shinigami and wondered whether or not he could risk leaving them while he went to get it. Probably not. Things had been awfully weird lately, and he didn't want to risk missing the slightest change.

/ Oh God, am I all alone in here? /

/ No . . . I'm here . . . /

It would help, Watari mused, if Tatsumi could get his sorry ass back to the Meifu. Not that the secretary would appreciate being sent for coffee. Watari nearly burst into laughter again as he tried to picture that.

/ It's so cold and dark . . . I don't like it here at all . . . /

/ Then why don't you just leave? /

/ Do you think I can? /

Still, Tatsumi might go graciously if Watari asked nicely. He had been known to do nice things in the past, even if it always made one want to grab a camera and get them on film so other people would believe them later.

Coffee, he decided with a nod. With lots of cream and sugar. Maybe mocha. That was what he needed to get him through this. And sooner or later, if he just kept looking long enough, he would come up with something that would help. It might take a few days, but they certainly had that much time.

/ I think it couldn't hurt to try. /

/ . . . show me? /

/ . . . yes./

Watari stared at the computer screen. No . . . no, that couldn't possibly say what he thought it did, could it?

Hisoka sat up, rubbing his head and reaching for the now empty mug. "It's cold in here," he mumbled.

"Ah . . . I can get you more tea . . ." Watari replied absently, staring at the computer screen.

Hisoka picked at the blanket that Watari had draped around his shoulders, wondering what had the scientist so vague and weird. Well, weirder than usual. He glanced over at Tsuzuki, who said, "I'm cold, too."

The mug slid through Hisoka's hands and shattered on the tile floor.

"Well, there's plenty of blankets to go – what the – ?" Watari's head whipped around and he stared blankly at Tsuzuki. "You're awake," he managed, rubbing his eyes as though Tsuzuki might disappear from sight, or at least go back to being comatose.

"Should I not be?" Tsuzuki asked nervously.

"But you – you're not – well, that is . . ." Watari frowned. "I guess maybe the spell doesn't reach into the Meifu? Or something. I guess we'd have to take a trip back to Chijou to be sure, but for now . . . you're awake! That's great!!" He shoved a chocolate bar into Tsuzuki's hands.

"I'm confused," Tsuzuki managed, but he began to munch on the chocolate.

"Join the club," Hisoka replied.

~~~~

There were many words that could appropriately be used to describe Tatsumi Seiichirou, and one of the foremost was patient. He had always been, by nature, a calm and patient man. And now he sat patiently on a hotel bed, waiting patiently for Muraki to arrive, so he could not-so-patiently rip his arms off.

He knew that when Oriya came, he would be bringing Muraki with him. He wasn't sure of the details of their relationship, but he trusted his instincts. Oriya would not be arriving alone; of that he was certain.

Watari had been gone nearly an hour before there was a knock on the door. Tatsumi walked over and answered it, and was not surprised to see Oriya and Muraki on the doorstep, as he had anticipated. He backed away and gestured for them to come in. "You've been quite some time," he observed dryly.

Oriya gave Muraki a vicious glare. "Someone delayed us," he said sharply, to which Muraki smiled, showing no remorse in the slightest. "Where are the others?"

"Watari-san took Tsuzuki-san and Kurosaki-kun back to the Meifu," Tatsumi said coolly. "I was only remaining here to inform you of this. It's no longer your affair, and I would be pleased if you could tell me what you know, and then you can feel free to leave Aomori and remove yourselves from harm's way."

"I'm afraid that wasn't really my plan," Muraki said smoothly. "I don't think I'm ready to remove myself from the situation just yet."

"I didn't figure you would be, Muraki," Tatsumi said, with a slight smile. "However, I wasn't aware that I was giving you a choice." He pushed his glasses up on his nose and gave Muraki a glance steely enough that it would have sent any of his coworkers running. "You will tell me what you know. I'm not playing games anymore."

Muraki gave Tatsumi his familiar smirk. "Is this where you say 'and if you won't tell me, I'll make you'?"

"Hardly." Shadows sprang up from every corner and wrapped Muraki in a tight embrace, effectively immobilizing him. The doctor laughed, not making any attempt to fight back. "I'm not precisely a man who wastes words," Tatsumi added.

Oriya looked between the two, fidgeting. In all honesty, he believed that Muraki deserved what he was getting; not to even mention that he was rather curious about what Muraki knew about the situation. He inwardly resolved to step in if it looked like Muraki was actually going to get strangled to death . . . which, from the glint in Tatsumi's eyes, wasn't looking too unlikely.

"Now," Tatsumi said calmly, "you will tell me what you know. Mibu-san, I suggest you not go for your katana."

Oriya cursed, and slowly slid his hands out of his pockets so Tatsumi could see them. He didn't even want to know how the Shinigami had known he was going to do that. He knew it couldn't kill him, but if it could distract him for a few moments, Muraki would have been able to get free.

"I really don't know much," Muraki said. He sounded amused, and not at all perturbed at being slowly suffocated by his own shadow. "It's nothing that you'd be interested in."

Tatsumi gave him a look. "I've changed my mind," he said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Get your katana. I'd like to borrow it."

Oriya couldn't hold back a startled laugh at this comment. "I think I'm going to stay out of this, thanks."

"Good." The shadows slowly began to tighten around Muraki. Oriya sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Muraki to either get out of their hold, or tell Tatsumi what he knew. He didn't think Muraki would let himself be smothered for the sake of silence. His old friend had more self-preservation than that.

"It really isn't much," Muraki said, but his voice sounded strained. "In fact, I doubt I know more than you, with the entire Meifu at your fingertips. I just figured out how it was planning to use Tsuzuki-san before you did. As a continual battery, for lack of a better term."

"I don't know if I believe you," Tatsumi said, giving the doctor a speculative look.

Muraki's hands emerged from where they were encased in shadows, casually shedding the black covering and stepping out of it as if it was no trouble at all. Tatsumi frowned, but made no effort to stop him. "I just wanted you to be aware that I didn't tell you because I felt threatened," Muraki said pleasantly. "But if we're going to work together in this, of course you'll need to know the information I have."

"I would rather die another death than work with you," Tatsumi said coldly.

Muraki laughed. "I'm sure. But your afterlife isn't the one at stake here, now is it."

Tatsumi's fists clenched momentarily, then he appeared to relax. "As I said," he replied, now back to his impeccable calm, "we're done with the subject. Watari-san and I will take things over from here and find the solution in the Meifu. Feel free to depart whenever you like."

"Do you really expect to be able to do it?" Muraki asked calmly, with only a hint of taunt in his voice.

"I expect that it's really none of your business," Tatsumi said politely. "Tsuzuki-san's welfare is not – and has never been – your concern." He nodded briefly at Oriya, then turned and walked out the door.

Oriya grinned. "You just got your ass kicked."

Muraki rolled his eyes. "Well, you heard what he said. If it's not our concern, then there's no reason to sit around their hotel room."

"By which I assume you're implying that you're not going back to Kyoto like a good little psychotic doctor?"

"Cute, Oriya."

"Meaning no."

"I'm staying here until I know what's going on. What about you?"

Oriya shrugged. "Hey, I came along for the ride. I'm not going anywhere as long as you don't go anywhere."

Muraki smiled. "Then let's go back to our hotel."

There was a pause, then Oriya sighed and nodded. He knew what Muraki intended, but there didn't seem like much point in arguing the decision. Their room was the most sensible place to go. He'd have to just try to fend Muraki off once he got there.

~~~~

"Great news!" Watari crowed, as Tatsumi walked sedately into the room that Watari had taken up residence in. "Tsuzuki's awake!"

Tatsumi blinked at him, taken aback by this statement. After a moment, however, he regained his usual composure. "That's good news indeed," he said, dignified as usual. "Not that I want to look the gift horse in the mouth, but do we have any idea why?"

Watari smiled deviously. "Get me some coffee and I'll tell you."

"Watari-san."

"Please?"

Tatsumi heaved a much put upon sigh. "Oh, all right. But you had best explain things when I get back."

Watari grinned and waited, puttering, while Tatsumi left.

"So," Tatsumi said, coming back with two Styrofoam cups of coffee filled from the office supply. "Why is Tsuzuki-san awake? And for that matter, while I'm asking questions, where is Tsuzuki-san awake?"

Watari gestured to one of the small rooms in the infirmary. "He said he had a headache and my typing was bothering him, so I let him go in there. But I sent Bon with him to keep him from angsting to . . . to . . . a second death. And to let me know if anything happened."

"All right." Tatsumi seated himself with dignity and gave Watari a steely glare.

"So what happened with Muraki?" Watari asked curiously.

"Watari-san."

Watari cleared his throat. "Well, as far as I can figure, traveling between the Meifu and Chijou must have somehow stopped the curse in its tracks. Which makes sense, right? I mean, if death short-circuited it the first time, causing the memory part to at least mess up, then crossing over to the Meifu sort of puts it on permanent hold."

"That's very interesting," Tatsumi said.

"Well, it's a quick fix, but it's better than no fix at all," Watari said, shoving his hair out of his face. "I want to keep an eye on him for a little while, but I think it's safe to say that he'll be okay as long as we keep him here. Which gives us time."

Tatsumi nodded.

"So how did it go with one-eyed and evil?" Watari asked again.

"It went fine," Tatsumi said evenly. "I don't believe he knows anything other than the purpose the demon had Tsuzuki-san in mind for. I'm sure he's going to stay in the area, but for now, we don't have to deal with him. Now . . ." He gave Watari a sharp look. "What aren't you telling me?"

Watari grinned. "Whatever makes you think I'm not telling you something?'

"You have a smug look," Tatsumi said.

"Really?" Watari asked, interested.

"Yes."

"Well, I did find something interesting . . ."

"So I thought."

Watari grinned and propped his feet up on his desk. "You know, I'm going to expect something in return for all this hard work."

Tatsumi glared. "I'll see that you get the proper vacation time."

"You think small, Tatsumi," Watari said, lightly tapping the man on the nose. "Very small. Think of all the things I could accomplish in this lab if I only had the proper resources!"

"So you want funding."

Watari looked hurt. "Well, maybe just a little . . ."

Tatsumi coughed. "I'll consider it. Just tell me what you found before I'm forced to hurt you."

Satisfied with this answer, Watari explained. "Well, I was thinking that maybe we were going about this all the wrong way. Maybe we should try to figure out how this guy became a demon, rather than figure out how he did this particular spell. Because if we could undo that, it might be a lot easier to undo the spell."

He paused for breath. Tatsumi arched an eyebrow. "Continue."

"So I did a little research and found something very interesting," Watari said proudly. "Remember the guy we thought was doing all this?"

"Yes . . ."

"He's not. He's not on the Kiseki because he's cheated death every fifteen years. He's being forced to stay alive by the demon that's possessed his body."

"Like Saagatanasu."

"Yeah, exactly. Only this poor guy wasn't as powerful as Tsuzuki. He's stuck, because the demon is using his body and his magic. He gets to live forever – but so does the demon, and the demon's been amassing power for nearly a century. And thus far the demon has escaped notice from the other Makai – "

"Because they assumed it was a human," Tatsumi said grimly.

"Yeah. He's using the human guise as a shield until he's strong enough to stand against them."

There was a long pause.

"That's bad," Tatsumi finally said.

"It sure is."

Tatsumi regarded Watari gravely. "So what do you intend to do?"

"Haven't quite gotten there yet," Watari said cheerfully. "But don't worry, I will." He gave Tatsumi a thoughtful look. "Go home."

"Excuse me?"

"Go home," Watari repeated patiently. "You haven't taken a break since this whole mess started two days ago. You're going to fall over pretty soon. I at least started with a good night's sleep. Go home, get some rest, come back when you can help. I don't want you falling asleep in my lab."

Tatsumi sighed. "All right. But only because there isn't a time limit."

Watari smiled. "Of course."

~~~~

Fending Muraki off did not prove to be an easy job. By the time they reached the hotel room, Oriya was quite annoyed with the good doctor. "I'm taking a shower," he snarled, and slammed his way into the bathroom, muttering all the way about stupid Muraki.

He was not particularly paying attention, so he was taking off guard when the shower curtain slid open. He jumped nearly a foot, then leveled Muraki with a terrific glare. "Get out," he snarled.

"What if I won't?" Muraki asked, leaning close.

Oriya looked around for a weapon and didn't see one. Before he could come up with a retort – and he was sure that he would have come up with a really good one if he'd only had a few moments – Muraki had climbed into the shower with him.

"Touch my hair, and I'll kill you," he said. That was something he simply wasn't going to back down on.

Muraki laughed. He leaned forward and kissed Oriya soundly, backing him up so Oriya was trapped between him and the back of the shower wall. Without further delay, he ran one hand through Oriya's hair. Oriya, who had been momentarily distracted by things other than his hair, pushed him away. "I'm not going to be one of your fucking rape victims," he hissed.

"Then don't fight," Muraki said, and pressed him harder against the wall. His grip on Oriya's wrists tightened, enough to leave bruises. Oriya struggled to get free, but only succeeded in squirming up against Muraki and demonstrating how happy both of them were in their current position.

He jerked one wrist free and slapped Muraki across the face. "I'm – "

Muraki pulled him into a hard kiss, not allowing him enough leeway to escape. Oriya let out a surprised gasp and slammed his foot down on Muraki's instep. That was enough for Muraki's grip to loosen. Oriya moved to escape, but slipped on the shower floor and went tumbling down in a heap.

For a blindly panicked moment, he saw Muraki moving towards him and was sure that he wouldn't be able to escape. So it was with a little more force than was strictly necessary that he lifted his foot and kicked upwards with no real direction. He hit Muraki in the stomach with all his strength, sending the man sprawling backwards.

With effort, he scrambled to his feet and got out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist. "Don't you ever do that to me," he said viciously. "Don't you ever think that I'll put up with that shit from you. Fuck this. I'm going home."

He stormed out of the bathroom, snagging another towel on the way for his hair. As soon as he was out in the main room, he started throwing things into his suitcase. He expected Muraki to come after him. After a few minutes passed and he didn't, he started to feel like an idiot.

As usual, Muraki had played him. He had done something that he knew Oriya wouldn't forgive.

"To get rid of me," Oriya muttered irritably, staring at his suitcase, still naked except for the towel. "To get me out of harm's way. That's all I am. A fucking burden to him."

He closed the suitcase with a sigh.

"Oh, don't go," a light voice said. A child's voice.

Oriya spun around. The girl was only standing a few feet away from him.

"Don't go," she repeated, with a wicked smile. "I wouldn't want your friend to come out to save you again."

She reached for him. Oriya grabbed for his katana, which he had left lying on the bed, but he didn't even come close to reaching it. Her fingers lightly brushed his shoulder, and he collapsed to the ground.

~~~~