Title; The Rose

Rating; M (For language, and not suggested, it's freakin' there, you can't over look it, MxM—mostly in later chapters.)

Author's Notes; This honestly started out as, "Hey, Watari always wears his lab coat; I'd like to give him circumstances to wear something cool." And it went from there to adding Tatsumi, to having conflict, and now multi-parter. Or hopefully it will be, if I receive some nice reviews. (Wink wink nudge nugde hint hint.) And now that I've finished with that oh so, subtle subliminal messaging, apologies for not writing for a bit. I was having issues thinking of something that wouldn't be a one-shot, so I was waiting until I at least had ideas for the first two chapters of this story. I should be updating more, however, I did get a job (ironically, for those of you who read Luncheon,) as a waitress. -;; Not intended! So, it's not the kind of job where I can screw around and scribble in my notebook. So, here's hoping I don't get completely swamped with all this stuff. If I know people are reading, though, it makes me yell at myself. "Just sit down and type it out, damnit!"

But he that dares not grasp the thorn,

Should never crave the rose.

Anne Brontë, "The Narrow Way"

I have screwed up. So majorly, so completely, I cannot believe that I am still able to string together conscious thoughts, cannot believe I have not been either mercifully or out of spite struck down by a bolt of lightening from either God or Emna Dai Oh.

I have screwed up before. Often enough that I know others have learned to make a joke out of it, simply blaming it on the mad scientist part of my brain, or my eccentricity. I would be lying if I said the word 'insanity' never came up when in reference to me. That is fine; in fact, it suits my agenda more than adequately. If they assume I will have some sort of catastrophe sooner or later, there is no shock when I do. Less anger.

But this is beyond anger screw up, beyond the threats of pay cuts and other such meaningless things. Yes, meaningless, because in comparison, it is.

But I should start at the beginning, shouldn't I? You don't know what happened. But you aren't really there, so how could you? Further proof of my insanity; I'm talking to someone who isn't there. Isn't hearing voices the first sign? Haven't had that yet…. Very good, Yutaka, at least you're not that far gone.

------

"Watari!"

Jump, crash. How was it possible for any one person to be so loud? Collecting the now shattered beaker set (Tatsumi was going to kill me when I tried to explain this one,) I was faced with a very exhuberant Tsuzuki.

When he'd finished his paper work, or more common, when he'd managed to escape the strangling clutches of both Bon and Tatsumi, he would come down here to see what I was doing, and, usually, cause a few explosions.

And everyone thought just I was responsible. Ha. May I point out that Tsuzuki lived before there were Chemistry courses and he has a tendency to fiddle with things?

"Hey, Tsuzuki," I mumbled, glancing over the damage. Two beakers. All in all, not bad. I was holding one, elbowed the other, but what can you expect, when you suddenly hear someone scream your name, and a door slam? It was silent before Tsuzuki came in.

He threw himself (and even that description was gentler than the motion itself,) onto one of the lab stools, and fidgeted, glancing at his watch. He had been known to hang around my lab, for the simple reason that it's on the opposite side of the building from Tatsumi and Hisoka.

Into the trash with a clang, I tossed the old materials, and went back to the notes for the afternoon, for once, not a sex-change potion. Though it is my goal, I do have other interests, and that day, it was perfecting the body switching potion that, uhm, was accidentally discovered a few Valentine's Days ago.

Though completely awry from the original plan, it wasn't a bad idea in theory, right? "Tsuzuki." I had to ask, as he was, by now, staring at the face of his watch avidly, "Are you waiting for something, or is there a very intriguing trait to your watch?"

It became apparent, very much so, that he had been waiting for me to ask. "After work, Hisoka's agreed to let me take him to dinner." Tsuzuki's smile couldn't have been wider, and he had begun bouncing around on the chair in an alarming fashion. Really, it was shocking it hadn't fallen over. "Okay, so he gets to pick the place, and I have to pay, but it was the only way I could get him to say yes."

"Really? Maybe there's hope for Bon yet." Hisoka had allowed himself to be drawn out, but only by Tsuzuki. He'd become everything to that kid, though damned if either one would admit it.

"What're you doing tonight, then?" Tsuzuki smiled, as if he knew. "Working late?" Why did he have such a knowing look in his eyes?

"I dunno," I replied, slowly. I honestly didn't. "I don't work late that often, anyway." I didn't! I mean, the futon in the back was used only when I lost track of time, or had to record something at odd hours of the night.

Tsuzuki made a little noise that sounded entirely too amused. "You don't? What time did you get home last night?"

I needed to think for a moment. "Um, ten-ish?"

"And where did you come home from?"

I wanted very badly to say some place that sounded very cool, doing something exciting. "Work."

"And the night before that?" Damn that look.

"Slept here."

If it was anyone other than Tsuzuki, I would have just lied. But it was impossible to lie to him. It was as if he knew you were lying, and rather than point it out, he would simply look at you. I had stopped trying long ago; when he wanted, Tsuzuki could be worse than Bon, empathy and all.

I sighed. There was no getting any work done when he had a point to prove, and it would be easier to just let him get it out. "All right, I get it."

Tsuzuki shifted in his seat, but rested his head on his arms amicably enough, as if he were not counting down the painfully slow seconds until six o'clock. I knew he was. "You just wouldn't want to spend all your time here," he pointed out, in a wheedling way. "After all, you could end up like Tatsumi." He grinned, obviously joking, but it was true.

Tatsumi worked later than everyone else, and arrived here before everyone else. I would have questioned whether he went home at all, except he was always in a neatly pressed suit, his hair brushed, completely tame, and not even one speck of dirt under his nails.

For a long time, this idea had interested me. For as long as I could remember, anyway, even near when I first came to Meifu. I had started to wonder what Tatsumi would look like with his hair mussed. Maybe not always in his completely calm exterior, or in some other emotion than anger. Were there times when he wasn't in a suit? These thoughts were enough to drive one to the brink of sanity, though it was debatable if I had gone far past said brink.

I must've tuned out for a little then, because when I shook myself, Tsuzuki was looking at me curiously. "Sorry," I said, smiled. "Just thinking." I didn't have to bother with coming up with a better excuse than that, though I wasn't sure what I could say (probably just spout off something technical terms and confuse him.) No, Tsuzuki was glancing down at his watch again, waiting for the danger of paperwork to pass and to be able to spend some quality time with Bon.

Considering there was only two minutes left to the scheduled work day, I simply turned back to collecting my notes and trying to remember where exactly I'd put my pen. I always seemed to lose them, and then they end up somewhere strange, like on my filing cabinet, or under the computer desk. Sometimes, it was as if 003 was playing head games with me (wouldn't put it past her, tricky little bird….)

"See you, Watari!"

Another crash, and I winced as the chair toppled over, leaving the metal frame ringing. Tsuzuki made as much noise exiting as he did entering, but I was used to it. My mind was elsewhere, anyway. It was time when most would be leaving, and I had thought to stay. Quieter, less distractions, and once I had started something, I was usually too wrapped up to end just at six.

Tonight, though, I didn't really feel like staying. The lab would be quiet, but it would also be cold. It would be lonely.

"003, what would you say to heading home a bit early?" I grinned, watching as the owl opened one eye from her roost up by the window. She closed it again, ruffled her feathers, and finally flew down to rest on my shoulder. "Sorry, did I interrupt the beauty sleep?"

Peep. Click. She burrowed deeper against my collar.

"Good. Then let's go home." I had no idea why everyone made such a big thing out of talking with her. After all, they talked to Terazuma, didn't they?

------

I liked my apartment. There was no reason not to like it; it was colored well, mostly shades of greens and beige, and the furniture might not have been designer, but it was a good accomplishment that it matched, and it was comfy. After a long day, or even on a lazy Sunday, where nothing was accomplished, that furniture was put to good use.

I wasn't there much, though, only on weekends, since I usually stayed late at work, and even then, I never did much. It wasn't really lived in, the way some flats are. The bedroom, where I stood, was probably the most inhabited. I did, after all, sleep there. It showed, as I had a bed rather than a futon, and had indulged in a nice mirror over my dresser.

I was looking at myself in it in a critical way. "I do things outside the office." I glanced up at 003, who had taken to resting at the top of the mirror. She didn't reply. Not a good sign. "I do! We went out to that café with Tsuzuki and Bon."

Hoot.

"Oh." Right. That had been a few weeks ago. I sighed. Maybe I would do something spontaneous. Not that I didn't usually, but my spontaneity was confined to the office, and more specifically, drugging the coffee pot, causing explosions, and annoying Tatsumi (though the first two seemed to fall into the latter category, regardless.)

My first thoughts had been, well, what had I done when I was alive? Easy; I had stayed late in the office, or been working towards my doctorate. Neither was helping my case. Another sigh. Straining my memory (this had been a good thirty nine (1) years ago, give or take,) there had been times when a couple of friends and I would go out to a club.

I grinned. I hadn't been to one in literally an age. It sounded like fun.

------

City sights were the same, and yet different. Save for changes in styles, it very well could have been the same people that had been dancing when I would go out. However, the amount of bars fueled for my preferences (2) had decreased.

They weren't hard to find, but there certainly were less of them. The music was still just as fast paced; the entire point of finding a one night fling had not deteriorated. It wasn't what I was there for, though.

And I wasn't sure why I had dressed up, then. Using a couple of clips Tsuzuki had given me as a Christmas present a few years back ("They looked like you would like them. Red, with the tiny diamonds!") I had twisted up my hair. I had always worn it long, first out of choice, then habit. Now, I just can't imagine it as anything else. Jeans, a rarity for me, and a dark red and gold tee shirt were also part of the new look. Gold bands around my wrists, and I felt good about how I looked.

Sitting at the bar with an apple cinnamon martini (3), I was enjoying the looks. I was enjoying the vodka a little too much, but it was easy to lose track when the music was pounding like it was and every few minutes you would catch an appreciative eye on you.

While I was not a particularly easy drunk, neither was I Tsuzuki. When I left the club, only around eleven or so as I did have work, I was a little off kilter. Vodka will do that to you. I was walking fine, thinking (semi) clearly, and certainly not a threat to myself or others.

I thought.

I decided to walk home, if only because I do like to walk home, when the night was clear like it was then, and it was warm out. I regretted that decision, because by walk home, I meant walking through a Torii Gate (4) and through Meifu, to my apartment. Which meant walking past the Ministry, and by then, it was almost midnight.

And guess who was deciding to just clock out?

"Watari-san?"

Yup. Him. "Oh, Tatsumi-san." I smiled, and turned to face the man walking towards me. I doubted he was coming towards me, so much as the street outside so that he could head home. "Good evening."

I could literally see the eyebrow twitch when he took in my attire, and when he looked up, his expression seemed to say without words, 'What the hell are you wearing?' He wouldn't ever phrase it like that, though. "May I ask what you're doing out so late?"

"Walking?" Damn, not supposed to come out as a question! I flashed a grin.

"Dressed like that?" Tatsumi crossed his arms, looking at me with The Look. The Look he gives when you were either doing something incredibly stupid, or had messed up and he was waiting for you to trap yourself.

I laughed, then threw my arms out, as if to say, 'Guess!' I would have loved to see Tatsumi try to guess where I was, but thankfully, for my own health, he would have killed me with that scary butcher knife of his, I added, "You didn't ask where I was before I was walking."

Something flickered in his eyes, probably annoyance, but he adjusted his glasses and it was gone. "Ah, of course not." For a moment, I thought he might guess, and he looked half torn between curiosity and love of privacy, but then it was gone. And he was Tatsumi; self-contained, and professional. "Well. I was just about to retur-"

"You wanna go out for coffee?" Why had I asked that? Might as well ask God as me, 'cause I didn't know. It was already out, a thought I would have normally kept to myself, but flew from my lips carried by vodka loosened tongue.

He was going to refuse. Tatsumi would give me that ice cold look that made me feel like an idiot seven times over, and simply say 'No, thank you, Watari-san' enunciating the honorific on my name. Saw it coming a mile away. "That sounds good."

…That wasn't being shot down. Why did I feel like a high school kid asking someone out for the first time?

------

Coffee must have been made by some god. Not by humans, because it was one of the best things on earth. I hummed happily to myself, sipping the hot brew, laden with cream and cinnamon. When I opened my eyes, I grinned guiltily, and settled for quietly drinking the heated concoction.

Tatsumi had been watching me, looking frankly amused with my antics. I couldn't help it! This restaurant just happened to make the best cup of coffee around. "Enjoying yourself?"

He sounded a little sarcastic, and I merely settled for replying with, yes, yes, I was. I played with the cup in my hands for a minute, before asking the question that I couldn't keep to myself. "Ne…Tatsumi-san, why did you agree to come?"

He half froze for a moment before taking a slow sip of his drink. He looked so thoughtful, and I reminded myself not to smile. It was hard, when usually I only saw a frown on his face, seeing him contemplative…it was a treat. More than the coffee.

"It was a good offer." Tatsumi had finally spoken, and it was almost absently, as if trying to come up with a more definite reason. "I suppose I just didn't feel like turning in for the night yet." He exhaled softly, then glanced at me over the rim of his glasses. "Judging by the clips and arm bands, you didn't either?"

"You're never gonna let this go, are you?" I asked, somewhat bitterly, but not truly irritated. "If I told an uptight fuss bucket like you where I was, you'd die of shock."

"Watari-san, I'm already dead."

"That's entirely beside the point."

Tatsumi seemed to want a shot gun very badly just then, as he rolled his eyes. I seemed to make him do that a lot, not intentionally of course! It's just how I was.

"Fine, I went to a club," I muttered, and became very occupied with judging how much coffee my cup could hold and was holding. Hm, what was the equation for volume again?

"A club?" Tatsumi looked somewhat floored, and attempted to straighten his glasses. "Dare I ask why or with whom?" Yes, he could dare to ask. Neither reason was really all that explicit after all.

I shrugged. "Uh, because I was bored, Tsuzuki said I stayed in the office too much. And I went alone. Who would I have gone with?" Once it was out, I regretted it. That was a stupid question. You went to clubs with friends or significant others. If not, one was usually there for a one night stand.

"I don't presume to know all of that much about your personal life to assume whom you would accompany to a club." Tatsumi sipped his coffee again, and glanced at the clock on the wall. Past twelve thirty.

I laughed, covering it with a hand. Or attempting to, at least. "Don't worry, there's not enough of one for you to be missing anything. Anyway, am I keeping you up?" I'd already finished my drink, and he was close to being finished with his. It was about time to turn in.

He shrugged, finished his drink. As he put the cup back down, he said, somewhat bluntly, "Not anymore than I'm usually up, if you're worried about it." Tatsumi signaled to our waitress, subtly, and cast her a smile. A harassed looking girl, she indicated one moment, and headed back to the counter.

"Good. I'd hate to be responsible for you being any more irritable in the morning than you already are." I grinned at Tatsumi, to show I was joking, and reached for the wallet I'd tucked into my back pocket.

"Don't worry about it," he remarked, having already pulled out his credit card. When the waitress came over to drop off our tab and wish us a good evening, Tatsumi glanced over it. "It's not even worth splitting."

I caught a glance of the slip: 1,700¥ (5). "Thanks. I wouldn't have minded paying, though." Another glance at the clock said that it was fifteen to one, and we both stood and started over to the counter to pay the tab.

------

"Which way is your flat?"

"Down here."

I nodded. Mine was in the same general direction (if you took a couple of side streets,) so I walked with him. Tatsumi either didn't care or just assumed that I was heading towards my own home.

"This is me." Tatsumi pointed to a sterile looking apartment building, though it managed to give off a homey feel at the same time. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then, Watari-san." He gave me the slightest smile, adding, "And don't think this will excuse lateness on your part; I expect to see you on time."

Putting on a theatrically sad look (it was said that I never lose my energy, and I can't dispute it,) I replied, "Tatsumi-san, you wound me deeply! I'm always on time—when I'm being good and not spiking the coffee pot." I grinned, innocently, and hell if he believed it as he just rolled his eyes.

"You're going to wake up my neighbors, Watari-san," he informed me, stoically. "Please try to avoid doing such at this ungodly hour." He straightened his glasses again, perhaps to hide either humor or exasperation.

"Your poor neighbors," I said. "I think they'll live, though." I smiled, and pointedly waved up to the darkened windows. There was no twitch of curtains, or lights turning on suddenly. "Just tell them it's a crazy subordinate that you can't get rid of."

Tatsumi chuckled, a little, and cast a glance to the windows behind him. "It is, but then they'll want to know how crazy you are, and it would probably take a year to describe all your stupid antics."

"Aw, you do love me!" I didn't think, and wrapped my arms around him. "You know my antics!" I knew immediately that it had been a bad idea, and now I was very close to Tatsumi, our faces barely a hair's breadth away.

Tatsumi seemed to collect himself, as quickly as he could, but he did not step back. "I repeat, Watari-san, try to avoid waking every person within the surrounding ten meters."

I didn't reply. I did the stupidest thing I could have possibly done, and I have done really stupid things before. I kissed him.

His lips were warm and soft, but there was no response from him. I wasn't sure what it was I wanted (or rather, it's harder to put into words exactly what I wanted from him,) but I should have expected it. Tatsumi didn't push me away, but he didn't respond, and when I broke off, I half-muttered an apology and took off. That had been possibly the worst idea I had ever had.

------

And now my position is this; I have work today, and it will be awkward. There will be avoidance, and when it finally comes to light, I'll hear it. The not interested speech, or the need for professionalism. Tatsumi doesn't feel that way about me, and I knew that. I knew that he only had feelings for Tsuzuki, and I did something this stupid anyway. His expression, though, afterwards? There was nothing other than shock, and certainly not anything to make me think that my advances would have been welcomed by him.

Looking back at the evening, even objectively, I could think of nothing other than his acceptance of coffee to make me think he intended anything other than the friendship he's always shown me. And now I don't think I even have that.

1 I count Watari at 24, and this year 2006. I think my math is correct….Feel free to say if it's not.

2 Gay bar. Couldn't slip it in subtly, sorry, and wanted to get the point across.

3 Are these main stream? I heard they taste good, though, alas. I know not—damn underage….

4 I think there's a belief that they lead to the "other world." Am I wrong?

5 About fifteen dollars.

Author's notes; I hope you liked. I hate first person writing, it's difficult for me. - Please read and review, and I promise, every other chapter up until the epilogue, will not be in first person. I just wanted Watari-san to tell his side of the story. He's so hard to write, and I had trouble keeping him in line. xP He wanted me to go off on tangents. Bad Watari-sama!

So, please, again, review. I know a lot of people ask, but it really means a lot when you do. - On an unrelated note, I just saw the anime. Does anybody else hate Eric Stuart as Watari? I have nothing against Eric Stuart, but I kinda still think of him as, "Hey, that's the guy from Pokémon that gets his head eaten by a plant!" Yeah, maybe it's just me….