7. Motive.
T: Double release today because I'm very busy for the next week and thus unable to update again until Friday at the earliest…also it seemed a little mean to leave things as they are at the end of this chapter! Despite the ominous sound of that warning things remain as they were in previous chapters apart from the slash content which is again on the rise! I own nothing you see here other than the plot bunny.
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It has been a month since the fire and the physical scars have healed enough now that they have been allowed back to work. That they are doing paperwork rather than on a field assignment, that there are often long moments of silence in the office and that his partner can not find the will to always smile, are all signs that the mental scars are healing still. That everything is not yet 'ok.'
His partner has been watching him a great deal today, the heat of his unique eyes making him feel uncomfortable and yet so very secure at the same time. Eventually he tires of this conflict of emotions and, placing his pen to one side, he meets the other's gaze.
Shock, nervous uncertainty, pleasure.
The alien emotions burry deep into his heart, the fuzzy uncertainty they leave in their wake further intensifying the conflict he is currently feeling.
"Neh, Hisoka, do you want to go out for lunch after work? My treat?"
The enquiry sparks a flush of warmth in his heart, the embarrassment, on this occasion, making itself known in the harsh awakening of his curse marks rather than, as is usual, by the colouring of his cheeks.
Skin mottled with the reminder of one they are both trying so desperately to forget he breaks eye contact and replies,
"Baka, you've not got enough money left this month to feed yourself let alone treat me."
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It has been half a year since Kyoto and at last the psychological scars begin to recede, at last it seems as though everything might just get back to 'normal'.
As has become habit in the last month he is spending his Sunday at Tsuzuki's house, teaching his partner how to cook without poisoning those he is attempting to feed and simply spending time in the other's company.
They are currently splayed out in Tsuzuki's garden indulging in the tranquillity of the location and the warmth of the summer sun.
"Your hair is getting long." His partner remarks as he leans over and brushes the bangs from out of his eyes.
He hovers like that for a little while, the expression on his face unreadable and his emotions restrained with a severity that the other has not used since the fire. Then Tsuzuki's hand drops from his hair to settle on his lips and his body is alight with the fierce insistence of the other's yearnings.
His partner opens his lips to give voice to these feelings, to change everything, and, with a predictability that he has come to despise, his curse marks flair into life.
He has only to see the slight tightening about Tsuzuki's eyes, to feel his emotional walls fall back into place, to know how much of a mistake has been to wear short sleeves today, to allow the other this close and, frantically scrabbling free the other's presence, he says, "I'd best go," before he teleports himself back to his own home.
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It has been a year now since the fire and, on the surface, everything has at last returned to how it had been before that day. Beneath this veneer lurked so many uncertainties, the festering hesitance of words not spoken and the blooded edges of scars that had again to break open.
Today he and his partner had gotten into a foolish argument about his recent habit of closing in on himself and, rather than address the thing as an adult should, he had run away.
Full of uncontrollable anger he'd thrown about every object that he could get his hands on, the rush of endorphins he got each time one of these objects smashed making everything somehow 'okay'.
Eventually he'd come back to himself and, ashamed for taking such a childish action, he'd begun to clear the mess away.
While picking up one of the more sizable chunks of china he'd managed to slice his wrist deep enough that it has taken time for his powers to heal the wound. Rather than continue to bleed on the floor he'd taken himself to his bathroom and placed the offending limb over the sink.
Staring at the gaping wound, at the ever decreasing flow of blood coming from the thing, a thought had come into his head.
At first the thought had seemed so very foolish that he'd given it only the barest of attention, yet, little by little, he'd seen the rational contained within it…had seen how much simpler everything would be if he could make the thought a reality.
Once his wound is all but healed he fetches a piece of paper, the remaining traces of blood on his fingers leaving an impression that he does not register until he has finished his note and it becomes too late to throw the thing away.
Knowing well how his partner's mind works he sticks the note to the mirror above the bathroom sink and, once he has packed the little he will need for his journey, he makes his way to the record office.
Once he has the information he needs he sets out towards his new goal and, hopefully, his new life.
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T: see you in the next chapter!!