Title; The Rose

Rating; M (For later chapters, language, and Watari-san's "flaming" personality.)

Disclaimer; I couldn't believe it, but I forgot to putonelast time! Gomen nasai! Anyway, if I owned this series, don't you think there would be a heck of a lot more Tatsumi x Watari moments? I only own my copies of the mangas (and animes.)

Author's Notes; Oh my gosh! I feel so loved. Thank you for the reviews, they made me smile, and I re-read them a couple of times over. They really made me want to keep writing, and certainly update more often. Just to say it again, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'll respond to them at the ending author's notes.

I was debating a bit about whether I'd do Watari's bit first, or Tatsumi, and it was basically decided with, "They read Watari, now I'll write some Tatsumi stuff." And plus, I need practice with him. Silly fuss bucket is hard to write. xP Enjoy the latest installment. Next chapter? Tsuzuki and Hisoka get involved in our little drama.

Nowhere can a secret keep
always secret, dark and deep,
half so well as in the past,
buried deep, to last, to last.

Keep it in your own dark heart,
otherwise the rumors start.

After many years have buried,
secrets over which you worried,
no confidant can then betray
all the words you didn't say.

Only you can than exhume
secrets safe with the tomb
of memory, of memory,
within the tomb of memory.

-Dean Koontz, "The Book of Counted Sorrows"

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Even as Seiichiro Tatsumi thought that, he knew it sounded stupid. It was he who, while glaring fearsomely, warned others to be silent. He who looked for the peace that could only be found when the majority of his staff were out on missions, or else on a lunch break.

But this silence was odd, suppressing in its intensity, and unending, save for the gentle tick tock of the clock on his desk. Tatsumi knew well why this silence was bothering him, but to even think it would be admitting that he needed what brought the chaos into his office, and he couldn't do that.

He tapped his fountain pen in time with the clock.

Tatsumi prided himself on having a schedule, and right now, that clock mocked him. Its face, the hands that ticked slowly by, and more than anything, the fact that the time it showed was not wrong. It was exactly eight hours, seven minutes, and eleven seconds into the day. Twelve seconds. Thirteen.

He resisted the urge that was growing increasingly strong, to turn the small clock away from him. It was only with an effort that Tatsumi stopped tapping his pen. It was an annoying habit, really. As bad as drumming ones fingers.

And now it was twelve minutes past when the silence of this office should normally have been broken. Tatsumi loved his office; the hard oak desk, the leather bound chair, and the cleanly white washed walls made the place a sanctuary for him, more than anywhere else. He really did love it, but….

This was not productive. Sitting and thinking about why he had not come barging in uninvited to start ranting about to hell with the budget; they needed something that Tatsumi couldn't even pronounce. He would wave his arms, sigh, accept what little was given, and then ask Tatsumi what time he had gotten in last night? Had he gotten any sleep, and did he ever just step away from the paper work? Like, ever? And he would be bright, like sunlight, with an owl on his shoulder, and a wide grin constantly in place. Until Tatsumi told them that, no, they did not need a chromatograph…whatever that was.

Tatsumi sighed, and glared impressively down at the reports in front of him. Considering the annoyance behind his icy blue stare, it was shocking the reports did not spontaneously combust in a stunning display of pyrotechnics. The accounts for the Summons Department, of course, and they were in the red again, but for once, it wasn't what was making him scowl.

He had been in a bad mood when he had come in, when he had woken up today, and even when he went to bed last night. At the ungodly hour of after one in the morning. But he wasn't supposed to be thinking about that, because no good came of it. However, while telling himself such this morning, he had managed to lock himself out of his apartment by forgetting his keys as he left. And his shoes. Tatsumi thanked any gods he could think of for his teleporting gift.

The account sat before him, innocuous in their way, the numbers patiently waiting for him to look over them, using every tax exemption known to man. Tatsumi was the best at that, because he knew numbers. They were constantly the same, in the way nothing else was. He could always add up their expenses, and he could always get tax exemption on Tsuzuki's sweet tooth. These were facts of life.

And then there was Watari. Watari had no laws, often leading to the chaos that reigned in Meifu. His was a world in which anything went, and often things that defied the basic laws of nature. Rules of any kind simply did not apply to Watari.

Eight thirty and forty seven seconds. Tatsumi had gotten no work done. Every time he tried to concentrate, he would become sidetracked with images of amber eyes, flashes of red and gold, and the sounds bright laughter. His memory was betraying him.

And worst of all, memory of phantom lips on his, the taste of cheap cherry chapstick, and of slender arms wrapped around him. That he remembered only too clearly, the sense of shock, and his standing there, immobile. The uncomfortable heat swept through him, even the next day, remembering those lips on his. Tatsumi tried very, very hard to ignore it.

What he couldn't ignore was the expression on Watari's face afterwards. Embarrassment, surprise…hurt. Tatsumi had just stood there, watching as the man he knew to be so bright and full of light, watching as his eyes briefly showed exactly how much he had been hurt by his indifference, he had left. For a while, the Shadow Master had debated with himself. Not overly long, but after deciding, he headed inside.

He could not have followed Watari. He knew of nothing that he could say to make the man feel better, and he knew that anything he did say might make it worse. Tatsumi wasn't exactly "good" with people when they were emotional. Even to Tsuzuki, his words of stunning wisdom were usually along the lines of, "Pull yourself together," or, "Be a man."

And Tsuzuki…that brought up more questions than ever.

The paper work sat before him, mocking him with its blank pages. He would have to stay late (or, rather, later than usual,) to finish what he couldn't concentrate on now. Especially considering the expense requests his underlings had seen fit to submit…only half of which he could even draw connections to money with. Terazuma was asking to have Tsuzuki either locked in a cage or put in an asylum (the latter word he managed to misspell,)-- denied. Saya and Yuma were asking for money for clothes, and, to Tatsumi's annoyance, Hisoka to be sent on missions where they might "need his help." Denied.

Tatsumi stamped the latter twice, feeling a bit better about himself, and added a footnote to Terazuma about one, spell-checking ("if you're unsure, ask Kannuki-san, as I cannot decipher your meaning,") and two, staying one task. Which plotting to get rid of fellow coworkers did not fall under the category of.

Which left the budgets, and for the first time in a long time, Tatsumi found himself unable to think of a way around the property damage that ensued after another spat between Terazuma and Tsuzuki (for once not the library, but instead the main hall.)

Tsuzuki…he cared deeply for the purple eyed Shinigami, did he not? Had for years and years. But Tsuzuki had eyes only for Hisoka, and besides, hadn't Tatsumi been the one to leave him? He had left, watching the tears drip down that soft face, even as he was smiling, all the while telling himself he did it out of love. Did he have any claims to be allowed to care for the man?

After being so close to allowing Tsuzuki to kill himself, he shouldn't. He knew Tsuzuki had forgiven him, and even thanked him, and it was genuine, because Tsuzuki was genuine. But to watch Hisoka's face when he had dove into that lab…. He knew then, and maybe even before, that those two needed each other more than anyone in the world. And he knew it was time to step back, because he could no longer be the one to protect Tsuzuki from his shadows, where he always had before.

And this left him alone, scarily so, in those shadows, and then to have Watari suddenly come into the picture? In a different way than before, rather, because Watari had always been there. Bright and happy, he was the light of the office, even if that was sometimes a ruse. The smile showing everyone what they wanted-- no, needed to see from him. No one who was that untroubled worked as a Shinigami.

Tatsumi stood from his desk. He needed to walk, get out for a few minutes and concentrate on clearing his head. Thoughts like this were enough to undo him completely to the breakdown that had always threatened him from the darkest corners of his mind.

Even as he walked through the door, having already decided that the break room would be fine for a few minutes, Tatsumi saw Tsuzuki sitting on Hisoka's desk (or at least the edge of it, for fear of fist or book,) and talking animatedly, trying to draw the boy out. It didn't escape Tatsumi's notice that Hisoka was not yelling, and instead humoring his partner, whereas before he would have been chastised for not working, and probably ducking a fist.

He bid them a brief good morning, not noticing the way Hisoka's eyes lingered on his back for a moment too long before his partner's insistent wheedling made him roll his eyes and mutter, "I'm still listening. Idiot."

------

The break room must have been designed by the same fools who designed the cheap motel rooms. As ever Tatsumi had that impression when he walked towards the coffee maker in the back. The colors in the room clashed in the same sort of mismatched way, as if they had all been picked from a donations center, and the rug looked as if it had seen better…decades.

In an odd sort of way, though, it was comfortable, and certainly not enough to stop Tatsumi from pouring himself a mug of black coffee. He stared into the concoction for a few long minutes before he decided that safe was better than sorry and opened the cupboard once more in search of them.

Having learned long ago of Watari's trial an error experiments, he had decided that being turned into a strange animal or growing extra limbs would not do. He had sprung a few dollars for Ph strips, used on his coffee alone. Anything that registered above a nine or below a five had been tampered with.

Tatsumi had no great love of science, but you couldn't argue with convenience. When the coffee turned out to be an eight, Tatsumi hid the strips once more, and threw away the one that had been used. Yes, coffee would help him. Tatsumi would go into the office and concentrate now and get some work done.

The door opened.

Tatsumi knew he shouldn't have left the office. But he had, and now he was faced with a surprised looking Yutaka Watari.

The silence for a moment was awkward, the sort where both parties involved can't think even enough to say hello. Watari, however, was the first to break it. He continued inside, having stopped when he first entered, still in the doorway, with his hand against the knob.

His smile was wide, and, to Tatsumi's eyes, entirely false. There were times when the secretary couldn't tell that the man was faking his good humor, however, after years of working together, he had picked up a few things.

That, and Watari wasn't hiding it very well.

"Morning, Tatsumi…stop looking at me like that, I didn't touch the coffee." He moved with lithe grace, his wild hair in a half hearted braid, no longer falling around his face as it usually did.

The thought surprised Tatsumi when it occurred to him, absently, that the scientist looked better with it falling around his face, in his eyes, adding to the inane quality that he seemed to constantly personify. He really didn't have enough coffee in him to be thinking that kind of thing about Watari.

Tatsumi believed he would need large amounts of sake before he should be thinking about Watari that way.

"I'm not looking at you in any way, Watari," Tatsumi said flatly, not realizing until after he spoke that Watari had frozen for a moment, back turned to him, when Tatsumi had spoken those words.

That hadn't been how he meant them…he thought.

Watari turned around, his hands cupped around a mug of cheap bancha. He took a sip, grimaced, and took another. "Just a joke, relax. Though I honestly haven't touched the coffee." The younger man shrugged, in a halfhearted sort of way. Upon closer inspection, he seemed tired, more subdued in a way that just didn't fit him.

"Hm." Tatsumi mumbled, without anything better to say. And the silence was back, strangely awkward considering that the silences that had fallen between them any time before this would have been after arguing over something stupid neither of them cared about (tempers ran high some days, and Watari had the worst,) or else it was quiet by choice, just thinking or not needing to speak.

Tatsumi had started to regret coming out of his office. Watari was ignoring last night, and so should he, but…he was fairly certain Watari wasn't staring stupidly at the work before him as he had been doing all morning. "I'm getting back to work," Tatsumi finally muttered. "I would suggest that you do the same, Watari-san."

He put his mug back down, the coffee still black and half full; Watari's eyes weren't on that. At the use of the honorific on his name, the suggestion of just getting back to work, (such a menial, Tatsumi thing, that he wouldn't mention the night before,) and the formal name merely told the scientist what he hadn't want to know. Nothing had changed; it never would. He needed to stop thinking this way.

He winced slightly, whether in embarrassment or at the rebuke, but it was only when Tatsumi had gotten back into his office and sat down that he considered Watari's reaction.

With a bit of guilt, the Shadow master realized that he had once more, unwittingly, said the wrong thing. Still, perhaps it was better that way. Even an angry Watari (rival to his own temper,) was better than this man who could barely meet his eyes.

It would end this, before something else did.

Tatsumi glanced at the papers before him in the office, as the numbers that passed before his eyes and out of his mind, even as he read them. He couldn't remember anything, as the next few moments merely encompassed the same memories he'd struggled to suppress only fifteen minutes before, and now, new ones. Even five minutes later, Tatsumi knew this day would drag on to the very last minute.

The small clock in front of him, chimed once, in a quiet sort of way. Nine thirty. Another eight and a half hour to go.

Authoress's Notes: I didn't have as much fun writing this chapter as I did the previous. The next one's gonna be more fun, yay conflict! With every character! Well, except Muraki…and Terazuma and Wakaba, and…. You know, it's got the four main characters. Enough ranting from me. I hope. I didn't have a lot of time to write this, but my schedule should be more open, so the next chapter should be coming out a lot faster. Thank you to the five people who reviewed; it was really the driving point for me to go home, and get on the computer and write, rather than just collapse and play Gameboy. Which, really, is a fun time for me.

Calliope Della Corte- Thank you! -points above- See? 'Nother chapter. I agree, Watari is great; I love that guy so much. He's definitely my favorite character.

Eternalsailorsolarwind- Your review made me feel so good about myself. I know this chapter wasn't quite the dénouement some might have been hoping for, but I just needed to get out Tatsumi's feelings, and I wanted to give Hisoka a full chapter to call the two of them idiots, so, yeah…. No, I didn't spike the coffee (Tatsumi caught me with those Ph strips of his. Damn you, Tatsumi!) I know, Eric Stuart, nice guy. Not my Watari-san. Watari's got an inaccurate Kansai accent, darnit! I loved Toshihiko, he was amazing.

ShadowMoonlight- Thanks for the review. I hope you did wait, and I hope you read and review again (bad subliminal messaging.)

Shadowlark71- Tatari! -jumps around- Yay! Tatari! -cough- Uhm, I mean, uh, something mature sounding…. If anyone liked Eric Stuart as Watari, they are not Watari fans. Or not true ones, anyway. I started freaking out when I heard it. "ZOMG, it's that guy from Pokémon who gets eaten by a plant!" Yesh, I kept writing. Actually, tonight I'm starting on the next chapter. I'll give you a clue who's point of view it's through…he's tiny with misplaced aggression. -wink-

Evilfrogger86- I loved dressing Watari like that. I was like, "Hm, he'd look so freakin' awesome like that; Tatsumi would just have the funniest reaction. Ha! I'm writing it!" …I have issues. Thanks, I should be updating more and more. Darn you work and old people! Being a server is hard. And to answer your question, it's largely Tatari, but there's so much Tsusoka, you can't ignore. It's not even subtle. There will be a bunch of it next chapter; it's one of my favorite pairings, because Hisoka and Tsuzuki are such cute characters (both physically and personality wise.)

Thanks for the reviews. As always, I remain humbly yours. --Phoenix.