A/N: Geez! It's been four months! I won't justify myself, it was all my fault. You can all punch me senseless. So sorry guys.-weeps- So sorry.
Anyway, you can check my LJ, if I take too long to update. I'll keep everyone posted there, k?
Hugs and enjoy!
DEAD RECKONING
CHAPTER SIX
Everything turned black and Tatsumi felt himself falling, fast, into that asphyxiating darkness; he felt himself melt into it, until he and the shadows were one. He was falling into himself, he knew, into the place he feared the most, and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it. Soon, as he'd expected, the fall was over and a very familiar fire surrounded him. He was almost relieved, really, that his mind had chosen that particular form of torment. With his last nightmare still fresh in his mind, he couldn't help but to welcome that old, well-known punishment.
The settings started to come together, he begun to feel his own body again and, while he wondered about that strange level of consciousness in what was obviously a dream, he resigned himself to what he knew was coming. He was scared, of course, and quite, but he wasn't a coward. He would walk right up to it, face it and have it over with as quickly as possible.
And walk he did, only he found things not as they always were. The lab doors were there, so was the fire, but it wasn't Tsuzuki the first person he saw. It was himself. There he was, standing on the same spot he'd stood that night. This time, neither Hisoka nor Watari were with him. He stood alone, watching the scene unfold, apparently unaware that he was being watched, by himself. Tatsumi, the real Tatsumi –or at least that's how he called himself in his mind to avoid going mad from sheer confusion- took a step forward and wondered about this new development –as well as the order and continuance of the universe- if this was some new 'lesson' his brain was trying to impart on him. Would it give him yet another reason to feel guilty? Was that impossible?
From over his own shoulder, he saw Tsuzuki kneeling underneath Touda's fire. The purple-eyed man looked more dead than alive, as paradoxical as that sounded. His face was drawn and Tatsumi was sure he weighed several pounds less than what he'd actually weighed that night. His eyes looked hollow, fixed on some invisible point. He looked empty, and Tatsumi felt like lurching. He turned to look at himself then and, took a shaky breath. His own eyes seemed to gleam as they watched that inhuman carcass Tsuzuki had become. He could have sworn he saw a half-smile tugging at his lips.
He tried to speak, scream, and put an end to it. Satisfaction was not something he could ever associate with that night. Not only he would have never enjoyed that morbid spectacle, he would have never left Tsuzuki be so lost. Would he? Hadn't he? Weren't those empty purple eyes those of someone who has lost the will to live? Weren't those Tsuzuki's eyes? He wanted to lash out at himself for what he was seeing; hell, he would have beat the crap out of himself if he'd been able. But he wasn't. No sound left his lips. Nothing he did made his other self even turn to look at him. Tatsumi fell to his knees. Every time he thought he was beginning to know how to deal with it, his own mind would betray him and throw even more into the baggage. What the hell was he supposed to do? How could he ever atone for his sins?
"What do you think is more selfish?" Tatsumi lifted his head and found his own gaze staring back at him, his blue eyes swarming with mirth. "To let someone die because you can't admit you love them, or to force someone that loves you to live without you?"
He wasn't surprised at the decision he'd made, nor had been Hisoka when he'd called him to let him know. What did surprise him was how quickly he'd decided. He had barely had any doubts and for some reason, his own insecurities hadn't been an obstacle. If he'd taken any time at all, it was because he figured he had to come up with a plan of action for when he had Tatsumi in front of him. Yes, he was going after him.
Maybe, he thought now, it wasn't such a good thing that he'd been so fast. Being as it was just a little after midnight, the bus station was almost deserted. Carrying a small bag he'd packed in a rush moments before leaving the house, Tsuzuki traded along the hall, looking around and feeling just a tad paranoid. There was nothing of the rush he'd witnessed earlier, only a few lonely travelers here and there that, thanks to the place's profound and ironically reverberating silence, looked frighteningly suspicious.
Quickening his pace, Tsuzuki retrieved his ticket from his pocket and searched with his eyes for the platform number: 50, and he was just passing next to the 15th. He'd got there with plenty of time to spare before his bus departed, but now he wasn't so sure he'd ever make it at all. In truth, it wasn't so much as him being short of time, not really. He was anxious to find Tatsumi and put to practice what he'd so carefully planned out that night. The moment Hisoka had left that night, hinting at what later would become a reality, Tsuzuki had started to imagine what he'd do once he was face to face with the blue eyed man. The first thing he'd thought about was something along the lines of toppling Tatsumi over, hugging him senseless and drag him back home whether he wanted or not. He knew, though, that just wouldn't work; no one, ever, had been able to force Tatsumi into doing something he didn't want to do. He had to convince him.
So he started reflecting on their relationship, trying to remember everything he knew about Tatsumi to use it to change his mind or, if it came down to it, simply extortionate him. The thing is, while thinking about these stuff, he got sidetracked, focusing more on the memories that came to mind than on his original idea. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. As in one of those epiphanies that don't really reveal anything new, but rather put things in perspective, Tsuzuki was suddenly able to see their relationship as a whole, instead of a sum of isolated incidents. He realized that the current situation wasn't really that different from all other times. While it was true Tatsumi was acting odd, in the end it all came down to him running away. This time, Tsuzuki didn't get distracted by feeling sorry for himself and thinking he deserved that sort of treatment. This wasn't about him being a monster; it was about Tatsumi being a chicken.
He couldn't put all the blame on the blue eyed man, though. In fact, he considered himself equally guilty and that, instead of placating his anger, made it stronger. It wasn't like he had made things easier for Tatsumi. Had he ever made his feelings clear? Had he ever done anything but subtly 'hinting'? In his mind, he'd always thought it was Tatsumi's job to take the first step; he'd always hoped the other would declare his undying love first, so he wouldn't have to risk making a fool of himself. Evidently, Tatsumi was either unable to do that, or didn't feel the same way. Whatever it was, Tsuzuki had finally decided he couldn't wait anymore. He had to confront him. He had to know.
At last, the 50th platform came into view. Luckily, the bus was still there, so he headed towards the ticket collector, who looked terribly bored and, once the poor man had ripped the ticket in two, Tsuzuki looked for his seat. He felt a sort of relief when he sat down; even if the bus hadn't started to move yet, he felt that, once seated, there was no turning back. Not that he had second thoughts; no sir.
Gazing out the window, he wondered how the journey back home would be. He couldn't help being afraid of what would happen; he was about to lay his cards on the table, without really knowing if he had a good hand. It was all a matter of luck, really.
Tatsumi woke up with a start, eyes wide and on the verge of hyperventilating. Clutching his chest with one hand, trying to catch his breath, he sat up as little beads of sweat trailed down his forehead. It wasn't strange in the slightest that he would wake up in that state, though, so he found it easy to calm down and regain his senses. The nightmare, the abrupt awakening, it was all familiar to him, in a way. When he was focused enough to look around, he found himself in his room, on his bed, and saw that there was already light, though dim, coming through the window. It was morning already. Now, this wouldn't have meant anything to him in any other circumstance. What threw him off balance was that he couldn't remember going to bed at all, and the events of the night before were blurry in his mind. One thing was to know he was acting off character, another thing was blacking out and loosing time. Maybe he was going crazy, after all.
He tried then to remember how he'd got there, gather his thoughts. He could recall leaving his room, though the reason wasn't quite clear. He'd gone downstairs, chasing something, someone. Just when the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together, however, a noise coming from the door startled him, bringing him back to the present. The door begun opening slowly, and Tatsumi stared at it, expectant. After a couple of endless moments, Kaede walked in but, for some reason, the sight didn't manage to shake off Tatsumi's feelings of dread. The young inn-keeper stopped short at the doorway, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and relief.
"You're awake," he said a little apprehensively. Tatsumi nodded dumbly, too confused to even acknowledge it was a rhetorical statement. Kaede walked over to the bed, stopping at his side while obviously keeping his distance. He seemed tense, seemed to be avoiding Tatsumi's eyes, for whatever reason. "I was starting to think you wouldn't wake up. How are you feeling?"
Tatsumi frowned deeply and unwittingly started to massage his temple with one slightly trembling hand, as if the mess inside his head was causing him actual pain. Well, it was. There was this constant, dull pain at the back of his eyes, but it wasn't that what was bothering him. This guy had just entered his room without knocking and, from what he'd said, it was clear he'd done it more than once that night. It was also evident he'd had a reason to do it, and that was what prevented his annoyance from escalating to outrage. He removed the hand from his face, but not the frown, and glared hard at the inn-keeper.
"Why are you here?" He didn't care one bit about how rude he'd just sounded.
Kaede sighed and nodded resignedly.
"You don't remember." It looked like he was speaking mostly to himself, which didn't help matters any.
"Remember what!" barked Tatsumi impatiently. It wasn't really the boy who was bugging him- though his gloomy and mysterious attitude was getting a little old-, it was the situation itself. He was taking it out on Kaede because easier than dealing with it and, for the time being, that suited him just fine. The inn-keeper didn't seem to take offence, though, or care much; he just shrugged.
"You passed out some time last night, downstairs. I found you when I woke up a few hours ago."
The kagetsukai could only stare at him in a mixture of disbelief and realization as he remembered, in part, what ha happened. He still didn't understand what had motivated his actions, but now he knew enough to be ashamed of them. So ashamed, that there was no room left to feel embarrassed by the fact that Kaede had carried him upstairs and had changed him into his pajamas. Too ashamed, even, to wonder about the other having a virtual stranger unconscious in his house for hours without calling an ambulance. Tatsumi looked down and lifted his hands sheepishly.
"Look, I..." he begun, in a feeble attempt to explain himself. But he couldn't think of anything. He had passed out, in a room he wasn't supposed to be in, and had no excuse to offer Kaede, or himself. He didn't have the time to come up with a good lie, though, the young man turned his back to him abruptly and took a deep breath.
"You have to go," he rushed out.
Tatsumi straightened up in bed, taken aback and unsure he'd heard correctly.
"Excuse me?"
"You cannot stay here," he repeated sternly. More gently, he added: "I'm sorry."
Those words made his blood run cold; he could actually feel the cold spreading through his body. Kaede was kicking him out? He couldn't leave! Not yet. He was there for a reason and, while that reason was all that clear to him at the moment, he knew he hadn't yet done what he'd gone there to do. He'd hardly rested at all and hadn't really had the time to think about... He just couldn't leave yet.
"Why?" he asked in shock, baffled and a bit desperate. "I'm sorry if I bothered you last night, but I'm not sick, or anything. It won't happen again!"
Kaede turned to face him again and, shoulders slumped, gave him the saddest of glances.
"Why are you here?" he all but cried. "Why don't you just leave?"
There was a hint of anger and frustration in his voice. Suddenly, Tatsumi got it; he wasn't sure why, but he understood, and it filled him with a grief too heavy to bare. He stood up, very slowly, and approached the other carefully so not to scare him. His legs felt a bit wobbly and each step he took he risked tripping. He didn't care; the floor felt as soft and mushy as it felt unstable. When he was finally in front of him, merely inches apart, he noticed the young man was shaking like a leaf.
"Do I bother you 'that' much?" he whispered. "Do you really want me gone?"
The other closed his eyes tight and shivered, which struck him as odd, considering how fast the room was warming up. Then he saw a tear that had managed to escape, trailing down his cheek. Of course, he wasn't cold, he was crying. Tatsumi froze for a second. He thought about getting out of there, or berating him about being too sensitive. He knew how much that scene could affect him. He tried hard to convince himself that it would be better to leave him alone. But he had lied to himself one too many times and he figured it was as good a time as any to face the music. Softly, tenderly, he wiped the tear away and felt the other lean slightly into his touch.
"Please," he whispered. "Please, just go. Leave me alone."
Tatsumi had to smile at the lack of conviction in that sentence. He was thrilled, joyful almost, about finally having the guts to do what he knew was right. Ironically, he also felt torn up inside, wishing he'd done it sooner, when there was still time.
"I can't," he cooed, pulling the other close. "I won't leave you again."
The younger man pulled away just enough to focus two large, shimmering violet eyes directly into his.
"Promise me," he said, his bottom lip quivering. Tsuzuki then buried his face in the crook of his neck and wrapped his arms tight around him, finally giving in. His tears were now flowing freely and dampening Tatsumi's shirt. "Swear you'll stay this time."
"I swear."
The first thing that Watari had learned when he was little was that, when people don't take you seriously, they tend to be careless around you. Having everyone think you're deranged and incoherent will not only grant you the opportunity to act strangely without them questioning you, it also makes it really easy to observe them without calling too much attention to yourself. it had worked for Hamlet and, while the lunacy act came alarmingly easy to him, Watari was sure it could work for him as well.
And it did; it worked. Watari looked at his watch. He'd been standing in the very same spot of the hall, doing nothing except staring at the wall in front of him, for and hour and a half now. Many employees walked past him since- some of them more than once- and not one had asked what he was doing. Most of them hadn't bothered to look twice. They were probably relieved that whatever he was doing didn't involve beakers. While everyone else ignored him, though, he was keeping a close eye on the door to Tatsumi's office, waiting for his prey to take the bait.
For days, he'd been watching all of his friends very carefully. Something was definitively up and, curiously enough, he wasn't to blame for the weirdness. At first, it hadn't been anything more than Tatsumi distancing himself from Tsuzuki- and, as a consequence, from the rest. It was odd, considering how addicted he was to the amethyst eyed man, but it wasn't at all unheard of. Watari may have known his attitude was completely retarded, but he had simply guessed it would wear off with time, as it had happened before. The shocker had been, for him as well as for anyone else in Meifu, to hear that Tatsumi had taken a holiday. That's when he'd got curious and, when Watari was curious, something had to be done about it. The thing was, though, that his usual sources of information/gossip (a.k.a.: Saya and Yuma) didn't know anything about it either and, of course, he wouldn't have asked directly even if he'd been able.
His curiosity, however, hadn't been the only one awakened. Watari smiled and took a step back, hiding behind a column, as he saw Konoe approaching furtively down the hall. The old man was an open book. He looked around nervously, over his shoulders, to his sides, before subtly stopping at Tatsumi's door. All he needed was a raincoat and a black hat and he would have been completely obvious. It was just what Watari had been waiting for.
Without even noticing he was being watched, the old man walked in and closed the door behind him, being extremely careful not to make a sound. Watari smiled in triumph and cracked his knuckles. He would wait before following the man in. He really needed to catch him red-handed, so he would give him enough time to incriminate himself. It was a simple plan; he needed information about Tatsumi- if only to satisfy his curiosity- and the best way to get it and not put himself at risk was to let someone look it up for him. Now, the only way to force that person to share was to have sufficient dirt to coerce him. He had just been waiting for the first sucker to give into the temptation. His money had been on Hisoka, but the chief was way better. He just might get a raise on top of things.
He couldn't resist; he slammed the door open with a bang, startling the other senseless. Konoe's hands went instantly up in a most guilty reaction, throwing up in the air what he'd been holding and stared at him like a deer caught in headlights from within a crispy white shower of paper. Watari, for his part, did nothing to hide the smirk from his face.
"Spying, are we?" he chanted merrily.
Pale as the files now carpeting the office floor, Konoe opened and closed his mouth soundlessly several times before answering in a terrified tone.
"Wa… Watari! I can explain! This isn't what it looks like!" muttered the chief sounding like an unfaithful spouse.
"Of course it isn't," he said condescendingly. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for you to be here, going through Tatsumi's stuff while he's out. But that is none of my business, is it?" he added innocently. "It's not my office, after all. I'm sure Tatsumi would approve of your explanation, though."
The silent threat was delivered with such confidence and so little subtlety that Konoe answered automatically, in an alarmed tone:
"What do you want?"
The blond lifted a finger to his chin in mock consideration, smiling at the rotund triumph. He slowly walked up to the other man.
"Well, if I were to… say, find out what's going on with Tatsumi, I might be just too busy thinking about it to remember this little incident."
The chief's eyebrows shot up.
"That's all?" he asked in surprised relief, something Watari didn't find amusing in the slightest. After all that sneaking around and plotting, to have his goal referred to as something so trivial was most offending.
"I could always use some extra cash," he added dryly.
The fear was back on the other man's face and Watari considered himself satisfied. Konoe cleared his throat and pretended he hadn't heard.
"Curious thing," he begun nervously, "I was just about to go get you to discuss Tatsumi's situation."
"Huh?" The blond blinked. While the chief had obviously brought that up to avoid the monetary aspects of his demands, Watari could tell he'd meant it. That was weird and, though the direct approach wasn't his style, the comment took him by surprise. "Why would you want to talk to me about it?" It wasn't like he was Konoe's confidant, or anything.
In a more business like mode, stack of papers now in hand, Konoe stood up and gave him a dead serious look.
"Watson-sama came to see me this morning. A few days ago, the Earl gave Tatsumi a case and asked him to decide to whom it should be assigned. It seemed like a routine case, but it fell under Tsuzuki's jurisdiction and you know how things are." Watari nodded. He knew, even if he didn't agree on how 'things' were being handled. "Shortly after getting the file, though, he asked for time off and left without saying a word to anyone about it. I wouldn't have known if Hakushaku hadn't let it slip."
"I don't get it," he shrugged, half confused, half bored by the story. "So he took one of Tsu-chan's cases. What's new? He never gave a horse's ass about protocol when it came to himself." Hell, half the time the guy acted like he was Enma!
Konoe shook his head gravely and placed the files on the desk.
"He didn't just withheld information, Watari; he lied, and that 'is' unlike him. And it doesn't end there." The dramatic pause and subsequent deep breath told Watari he wouldn't like what he'd hear. "I said Watson-sama came by earlier. He was supposed to bring me the backup file. The thing is, he couldn't find it. It just wasn't there."
Again, the scientist was caught off guard.
"You don't mean…"
"I was hoping it was a mistake, that I'd find it here, or something. But…" Konoe sighed sadly. "It was stolen, from right under the Earl's nose, and you know as well as I do there's only one man who could have done that without being noticed."
"Holy shit!" he breathed.
Only one man, that was for sure. This was much more than a troubled relationship. This was much more than he'd thought possible. It was theft and deceit, which spelled out 'a shinigami out of control' in big bright red letters, but… Tatsumi?
After a very, very long pause, Konoe opened the door again and stepped out. Watari followed dumbly.
"You and Hisoka will partner up for this one. Tsuzuki went after him, for personal reasons, of course, and I don't want him to know about this yet. He and Hisoka seemed to have found a lead to where he went. Hisoka is at the Castle of Candles, trying to put the case together again from scratch, to see if it helps. You should go help him and find whatever you can before leaving."
Watari swallowed hard, completely and utterly dumbstruck.
"What about Tatsumi? I mean, how should we…?"
"He's the case now," the chief said sternly. Watari couldn't believe his ears. "You find him and bring him in."
Tsuzuku
I don't have the guts to answer your reviews, after such a long time. So thanks to: Schatten Wolfendorf, dodger-chan, BakayaroManiac, Candy-chan, lyn, firedraygon and makasarily. I hope at least a few of you remember thisstory, -.-;
JA NE!
