A/N: Hello people! I fear the last chapter was a horrible failure. Don't get me wrong, I know that Tatsumi wouldn't just go on vacation. I'm going somewhere with this, trust me. That, of course, doesn't mean you'll like the story, but you can at least give it a chance? We'll see.
Enjoy!
DEAD RECKONING
CHAPTER TWO
It wasn't like Tsuzuki to linger in the office after working hours. It was a miracle if he managed to stay the full nine hours he was supposed to actually be there. But since it seemed to be the day for acting out of character, he figured the world wouldn't come to an end if he was the last to leave, for a change. Still, it had been quite tricky to come up with a good excuse for not accompanying Hisoka home, as usual, without having him suspect more than he already did. And it wasn't that he couldn't trust the green eyed boy with the thoughts that were troubling him; he just wanted to make sure he wasn't being too suspicious before he passed on his concerns to someone else.
It just didn't sit well with him, as simple as that. Tatsumi's explanations had sounded reasonable enough. Had he been any other person- workaholic or not- he wouldn't have had a reason to doubt his words. He might have even accepted it from him- though, really, it was a little hard to believe- if Tsuzuki hadn't seen right through the other man's lie. It hadn't been more than a second in which those deep blue eyes had shown his true intentions, but it had been enough. Tatsumi wasn't just taking a vacation and he certainly didn't need rest. He was running away, from him; no doubt about it. And Tsuzuki could understand him, as much as it hurt; Enma knew he would have run away from himself if he'd been able. What he couldn't understand, however, was Tatsumi leaving like that. What could have compelled him to abandon everything that gave his life meaning- i.e.: work- to pack up and leave, spend money even, to do something he'd been doing quite well as it was while staying in Meifuu. It wasn't like Tsuzuki had looked for him when he knew he wasn't wanted.
So, Tsuzuki had doubted. At first, it hadn't been more than a whisper at the back of his mind, growing and growing until he could think of nothing else. It just didn't-make-sense! And since he hadn't been able to come up with a plausible explanation for the phenomena, he decided he'd do a bit of detective work.
He knew better than to go to Tatsumi's apartment looking for clues; he was well aware of which was Tatsumi's real home. He had waited until even the cleaning personnel had gone home before springing into action. There were only a few lights on- most of which he'd lit himself- and a profound silence all around. Half of it was that he had had the idea running around his brain for half a day, the other half, probably, the furtiveness of the whole deal, but Tsuzuki could feel his heart speeding up with excitement as he marched through the halls to Tatsumi's office.
The door was undoubtedly locked; the violet eyed man didn't even bother to try and open it, teleporting inside instead. Not wanting to risk getting caught, he'd carried a flashlight with him, so that he wouldn't have to turn on any- stronger- light. Tsuzuki looked around, a little baffled. He'd expected to find the place in some state of disarray; hearing that Tatsumi was going on vacation- and from his own lips, too- had somehow convinced him that the man had lost his mind completely and was going through some sort of psychotic phase. But the office was perfectly- pathologically- tidy, as usual.
Tsuzuki wasted no time, immediately going through a small stack of papers on the desk- already finished work, he noted- the man's daily planner and the garbage can, that hadn't yet been emptied because even the janitor knew the secretary's office was off-limits. There was nothing -at all- which resulted even more suspicious than if he'd found a zombie's signed confession of having snatched Tatsumi's body. What kind of person goes off on a trip he doesn't even know the length of without doing any kind of planning as to leave even the slightest of evidence? Not Tatsumi Seiichirou, for sure.
The amethyst eyed man slumped on Tatsumi's chair, trying to figure out what to do next. His face lit up when he noticed the desk drawers. Of course! Tatsumi wouldn't be so careless as to leave everything sprawled on his desk for everyone to see! Happy not to find it locked, Tsuzuki pulled top one open. There was nothing in it beside several old note books with a bunch of statistics he couldn't make sense of. The second and third weren't of much help either, other than to find out he and Watari wouldn't be getting a raise any time... ever. He stared at the bottom drawer with a mixture of hope and dread and took a deep breath. In any case, he decided as his hand gripped the handle, he wouldn't give up. He would turn Tatsumi's apartment upside down if he had to, until he could put his fears to rest.
To his surprise, the drawer was almost empty- emphasis on the 'almost'. All there was in it was a picture frame face down and a folded piece of paper. Tsuzuki didn't recognise the frame at first- it was quite cheap and common- but once he picked it up, a set of bittersweet memories filled his mind.
Tatsumi wasn't one for sentimentalism, but there had been one occasion- during an office Christmas party, if his memory served him right- when Watari had managed to take a picture of the two of them. Tsuzuki had come out looking a bit drunker than he'd actually been, as Tatsumi a little grumpier. Of course, he had a copy- he kept it in a special place on his nightstand- and though he hadn't known for sure until that moment whether or not Tatsumi had one of his own, he'd suspected it after the negatives had mysteriously disappeared. There it was, in that frame, with its colours a bit faded with time.
Tsuzuki put it back in the drawer, wondering whether he should feel good about his findings or not. On the one hand, it was kind of nice to think that Tatsumi had cared enough to keep it; on the other, he kept it face down in a drawer he obviously didn't use. Chances were he didn't even remember to have left it there.
The piece of paper, the only other item in there and his last hope, confirmed the theory of that drawer being nothing more than the last destination for things Tatsumi considered utterly useless. It was just a worn out piece of paper, that seemed to have belonged to some sort of brochure at some point. He considered the possibility of it being part of the brochure Tatsumi had mentioned that afternoon but, even if it was, it still didn't help him at all. It had been folded too many times, leaving deep marks on the surface, and it was obviously missing a big chunk. All that was left was a picture of an old, huge occidental house by the sea; a fairly beautiful house, but nothing he hadn't seen before. On the back there was an incomplete list- in English, no less- of what Tsuzuki thought were the services of some sort of inn- view of the ocean, private beach, room service, etc- but nothing that could hint as to where Tatsumi had gone. For all he knew, that wasn't even Japan.
Tsuzuki stared at the bit of paper with contempt, the representation of his failure. For all intents and purposes, it was rubbish. Tsuzuki would have thrown it away without a second thought, if he hadn't been certain Tatsumi would notice its absence and then kill him slowly when he got back. He'd notice; he always noticed.
He put it back and closed the drawer, huffing. He couldn't admit defeat so soon. He would check Tatsumi's apartment in the morning, even if he knew it was unlikely to find anything there. Perhaps he could find a way to ask Hisoka for help; the green eyed boy was way smarted than him. Maybe he could come up with an idea. Now he would just go home, eat something and hope his gut feeling wouldn't interfere with his sleep.
Tatsumi rested his suitcase on the ground and eyed the building in front of him with a slight frown. It had certainly looked better on paper. Maybe it was that it was a moonless night and the inn was only illuminated by a dim streetlamp- if you could even call that dirt road a street- or the fact that the town- the entire eight apples of it- had looked down right dead, but he thought the house looked haunted and, when you're a dead man on vacation, you tend to take those appreciations seriously.
There was something appealing, however, almost luring about it. He'd never been particularly fond of the sea- not that he had ever given much thought to that sort of thing- but he had to admit the sea breeze felt wonderful on his face. Mount Fuji was barely visible at a distance, but it was there, a tall shadow on the night sky, reminding him of just how close he actually was to the overwhelmingly urban Tokyo. Tatsumi took a deep breath; that place might have been a little ominous, but he trusted it would provide him with the peace and quiet he'd so desperately been needing. Besides, it wasn't like the kagetsukai would be intimidated by a few shadows, right? Picking up his scarce luggage, he made his way to the door.
It was curious, he thought, how he didn't feel all that strange about taking time off work, or about how spontaneous it had all been. He really hadn't thought about going on a trip, hadn't even made any sort of research on where to go; hell, he hadn't even made a reservation! And though he had no idea of how long he'd be there, he had barely packed at all. Maybe that nervous break down he'd been fearing had already struck?
In any case, he wasn't surprised when he walked into a deserted reception. The brochure from where he'd first learned about that place had been as promising as it had been old, and it wasn't even season for tourists. The only hint of there being someone other than him there was a small lamp on the front desk; its light was too dim for the incredibly high ceilings and dark décor, but it was enough to see where he was going. The floor creaked under his feet as he walked up to it and he could smell at least one layer of dust covering the furniture. In all fairness, the room was quite beautiful, posh yet not overdone. It didn't give the impression of being abandoned or decaying- though it obviously was in some degree- it just seemed... sad, for some reason.
Tatsumi rang the bell and waited for the manager to show up, but there was no reply. An idea crossed his mind and he frowned, ringing again a little more insistently; what if the place wasn't working as an inn anymore? He'd be stranded in the middle of nowhere with no means of getting back before morning and nowhere to spend the night. Finally, he heard the sound of soft, slow footsteps approaching and he was able to relax a little. He made a mental note to give the manager a piece of his mind and leaned against the counter.
The manager, he guessed, had to be one of those fat, lazy middle-aged men who went around wearing wife-beaters and an attitude. The man that came into the room a moment later, though, didn't meet any of Tatsumi's expectations. He couldn't have been a day over twenty five; his face- or the little Tatsumi could actually make out of it- suggested he was even younger than that, with clean, angular features and perfect skin, but his broad shoulders and well defined built broke the illusion. His thin dark hair fell in messy bangs over his face, making it impossible to see his eyes. Tatsumi thought the young man looked consumed; he was too skinny, but it was evident it was not the way he was meant to be, as his body showed signs of work-out, even if in the past, and he wasn't at all scrawny. Even though his clothes didn't appear to be dirty, the blue eyed man thought it very likely that he'd slept on them on at least one occasion. He was wearing a wife-beater, under a wrinkled dark shirt that hung loosely from his shoulders, and a pair of dark sweatpants.
The young man faced Tatsumi and said nothing, studying him closely and with what the secretary thought was apprehension in his expression. This, though it made him a little nervous, gave Tatsumi a chance to see the other man's eyes. Though the light was indeed to dim to make out their exact colour, he could tell they were clear. For a moment, he had the gripping sensation that they were purple, but he soon realised that had only been a figment of his imagination. What really caught his attention, however, was the fact that they looked swollen and puffy. Growing tired- and weary- of the man's shameless scrutiny, Tatsumi pushed his glasses up his nose.
"Good evening." He bowed his head politely. "I would like a room, if it's not too much trouble."
"Sure you do," the man whispered back, retrieving a book from under the desk. He then looked at Tatsumi, hesitantly. "There's an inn a few miles from here, you know?" His voice shook a bit. Tatsumi frowned, baffled at the other man's words.
"Are you trying to make me feel welcome?" he said a little sarcastically.
The young man looked down, looking a little embarrassed.
"I'm sorry if I sound rude, sir, but I'm the only one left here. I won't be cleaning your room or making you dinner. I could drive you there, if you want, though."
Tatsumi considered it for a moment. He hadn't left Meifuu to be waited on. He'd much rather tend to himself than have a stranger go through his stuff every morning, or worse, have to share his supposed down time with some loud family from abroad. The young man looked depressed enough so that he knew he wouldn't be a bother. He, however, really didn't seem to want him there. But Tatsumi had somehow warmed up to the idea of staying there and he wasn't about to let his plans be changed without a fight.
"I tell you what," Tatsumi said, taking out his wallet and a pen. "You give me a room, I'll pay you as much as I'd expected you'd charge me and I'll stay out of your way."
The young man stared at him, doubtful. In the end, he just sighed and opened the register for Tatsumi to sign.
"Welcome to The Silent Siren, mister..."
"Tatsumi Seiichirou." He extended his hand and the other man shook it.
"Saiga Kaede." He gave him a lopsided, unsure smile. "Maybe it won't be so bad to have a little company here, for a change."
Tsuzuku
The only good thing about getting few reviews, is that I get to answer them. Yay! (one has to look at the bright side of things, ne?)
dodger-chan: If I tell you where this is going, I'll spoil the surprise, I'm afraid. Thanks for gving it a shot, though. And I'm glad Tatsumi came out relatively IC even when he was acting so OOC! Hugs and thanks!
ManderNaner: You can ask all you want, I like questions, especially because I'm evil and not always answer them! Mwuahahahaha! Thanks for your review!
bitter green-tea: Yay! You really think Tatsumi came out realistic? And yes, the focus of this story is mainly Tatsumi. It'll be interesting to write him being the one on the edge, and Tsuzuki as the centered one, for a change. Thanks for reviewing!
BakayaroManiac: Hi dear! My e-mail is either or . Try with both if you want, though I don't check the second as much as I do the first. Did you really do some fandrawings? I love fandrawings!! Huggles you silly.
Ja ne!!
