Author's notes: Hmm... is all I have to say about this chapter. I am thoroughly creeped out by my own writing. -sweat- I kinda made up Muraki's chants. :o Also, you may be wondering how in the hell does Muraki A) Summon shit B) Use Elementals to stave off a demon within the restriction zone. It will be revealed later. . Not a plothole (though I personally wanted to say Muraki cheated...)

Hi laustic. I always imagined Saya and Yuma's persistence to be unbeatable.. :D Hisoka's growing up ... I think.

Hey, Experimental. Hisoka does meet up with him, and thanks for the thoughtful critique/musings as ever. :) Several fun things will happen in this somewhat short chapter. It kind of makes my head spin.

Hello, Literary Eagle. I must confess it was really too easy to include a Shiki that isn't well-known and I've never seen in other fanfics either. And here, I was worried that Nui's secret wouldn't be met with much enthusiasm... XD

Thanks for reading guys! Our marathon run is almost at the finish...

Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

--excerpt from "I will follow you into the dark" by Death Cab for Cutie

"Damnit! You won't die!" The demon roared angrily in frustration.

Coughing up blood and nearly gagging as it traveled back down his throat to patch his insides up, Tsuzuki stood grinning, eyes bright from pain. His stamina was strangely unending even after several hours of getting beaten down. Every time he felt like it was the last blow, another wave of replenishing energy would provide him with recovery. Tsuzuki was ashamed that he only weakly grasped to survive for himself in a life-and-death scenario. Even if Nui hadn't been here, he might not have tried to escape.

Hidouzaki's attacks were relentless. Blow after blow he realized he was standing only because he could imagine Hisoka's fear at being abandoned. He couldn't do that to him after he had promised to stay.

Again, he stood shakily as he pulled from his empty reserves, and a knife-hand attack, the same that had temporarily killed Nui, sliced through his abdomen and crunched through his spine. Gurgling through a scream as he mercifully lost feeling below that point, Tsuzuki was flung casually off the attacking hand, hearing his bones snap as his head whiplashed into the ground. He choked on his own blood, coughing wretchedly. Pain was his world, but sadness was his province. His wounds and bones were finally taking longer to knit together that hidden strength finally disappearing.

I'm sorry, Hisoka.

"Pathetic. Who knew the powerful Tsuzuki was so easily beaten?"

His reality slipped out of focus as a foot smashed into his right shoulder snapping the collarbone. Almost instantaneously a firm hand grabbed the ankle, as the other lunged for a weak point of his enemy. It connected and liquid poured down on the prone, broken man. Hidouzaki screeched, forced to transform to stop the bleeding, retaliating by crushing him into the ground with a massive claw. Tsuzuki didn't move.

"I win, Halfling." The crow snapped his beak, cawing. He would enjoy feasting on the Shinigami.

With only a push of the button, the victor was trapped in the cartridge designed for the supernatural. It was past nightfall and he had a deadline to keep. Shade packed his camera, shouldering his bag, and hurried past the slowly regenerating body of his partner, leaving Tsuzuki to his own devices. Outside of the precariously standing inn, he knelt setting obsidian shards that he had pulled from his bag into a medium-sized circle. However, he was interrupted before he could finish his task.

"Are you Kato Sachiya, boy?" A smirk slipped across the man's face as he bowed, dressed head-to-toe in white. "I'm Muraki Kazutaka, and you have something I want."

"Buzz off. It's not for you!" Casting a black iridescent stone into the circle, a violet puddle of darkness appeared, but before he could place a foot into the gateway to hell, his hand lifted the camera without his command. "Damnit! We need to return this to the Lady before the gate—" The hand jerked and suddenly the camera shattered into pieces. Kato stopped breathing. He had sold his damn soul for that cursed contraption. If he couldn't deliver the monster in his camera, his life was forfeit to the damned bowels of hell. "RASHAVEREK!!!!"

Having watched the one-sided exchange in interest, Muraki pursed his lips guessing from the malevolent energy where the gate led and watching with apathy as the young, rather weak Shinigami collapsed to his knees, bathrobe parting open from his flesh, cursing an upper-echelon demon's name as he sifted through the pieces. "No, no, no, no."

Spotless shoes presented themselves in his vision. Long fingers held the flat box close to Muraki's face, as the man inspected it closely. "Is this it, boy?"

Pupils prickling to dots, Kato screamed as something tore through his front. A large black four-fingered hand shoved Muraki down, sparing his fragile body from the impaling capacity of each wickedly curved fingertip, though they thrust into the brittle soil around him effectively pinning him. The box lay outside of reach. Within seconds, an enormous muddy brown, red-eyed minotaur slick with fluid and head topped with sharply turned horns tipped in crimson towered over the silver-eyed man. "The Duke will not kindly take to your thievery." The black box was scraped off the ground and disappeared into the folds of soft, pale leather, probably cured human skin, that wrapped its hairy body.

"The soul belongs to me!" Muraki half-snarled, caught off-guard and none too pleased as he quickly surveyed the scene.

Rashaverek's vessel lay broken and abandoned. Muraki assumed that Enma must have been very aware of what Kato had been carrying within him when Muraki had been ordered to retrieve his brother's soul. It was a shame that his golem had been destroyed as the only powerful magic he currently had required time to set up, but he was not afraid. He had been surprised by stronger opponents before.

"Enma's mark covers you, yet your soul is stained pitch black. You believe you can escape hell, whelp?"

"Spirit of Earth, Arise and live!

I break the frost, And open thy grave!"

Calling on spiritual assistance in the earth around him as he sacrificed a good bit of his own energy to the cause, Muraki sliced the offending appendage off with several tons of concentrated rock and soil, simultaneously forcing the soil up to dislodge the dismembered claw.

He jumped back without stance because his magic needed no such ritual to perform. Since its mouth was open and an irritating noise of gravel rubbing against sandpaper came forth, Muraki assumed it was the demon's laughter. It was the opportunity he had been waiting for. Taking a palm-sized rock from the ground, he purified it with a slew of traditional Buddhist mantras.

With a snort that shook the massive obsidian ring hanging from his snout, Rashaverek flicked his ears impatiently roughly jerking his amputated arm from the ground. "There is no wound I cannot heal from." Holding his arm and shoulder together, the flesh dripped and melded reforming a whole limb, but this all took time.

Muraki dragged the rock through the soil, drawing and completing a set of four crude pentagrams wrapped with Celtic runes and Buddhist mantras he had practiced stringently for just such an occasion. He stepped in the center of the four and power began to form beneath him as he chanted in a low murmur.

"Darkness lies, where it is born.

But Sun flies, to light this Land.

I stand in Circles of Light,

that nothing may cross."

His barrier in place, he clipped open his lighter and set a handkerchief ablaze, murmuring a hymn to purify it. Continuing to hold it out from him as the cool, deep blue flame hovered no longer burning the material, he continued.

"Ancient creature, I offer thee,

this sacrifice of holy flame, as gift and sign.

Guard my fate, both soon and late.

Banish this fiend, and cleanse the decay!"

As power surged around Muraki, the demon ignored his chanting, possibly because of dim-wittedness, as it flexed its arm and hand as if testing that the connection was successful. "The Duke would find you delightful, so I have decided that I am delivering you to—" A large silver, two-headed Western-style dragon with four-clawed talons bore down on him, spewing blue fire from both giant maws.

The demon held its hand up, aghast when it began to melt from the onslaught. "Holy fire!" he howled. Getting grazed by the attacks and sending flares of corrupted blue-violet fire back, the demon recognized his common folly having underestimated the sinful soul. Luckily, he had retrieved what he was sent for, and would not be punished for failing to cast one deserving human into hell.

"I've decided to decline the invitation, since I have been offered a better business proposition." The doctor projected evenly, amused that the limbs that came in contact with the dragon's attack liquefied.

"You will not escape! I will personally deliver you to the Duke, Muraki Kazutaka!" Without waiting for a reply as he was hounded by divine flame, Rashaverek disappeared into the purple gateway.

With a brief lilting phrase, Muraki dismissed the dragon. He wouldn't admit to it but summoning the beast had sapped his strength far too much for what little he did.

He tested the bond that he and his doll shared. There was nothing that called back, and he had checked it after the meeting with the big, bad Death.

"How did the boy manage that I wonder?" he murmured eyes trailing over the remnants of the gate that stank of demonic influence. Worse yet his revenge went unrequited, forever in a place he would never willingly trespass. With a casual flourish of his coat, Muraki dissolved into feathers whisking himself to a predetermined home point, intent on re-gathering strength that seemed to be slipping from his fingers faster than ever.

All that remained were the remnants of a short skirmish, a broken camera, and a regenerating Shinigami. Thunder reverberated omniously through the late night.

Hisoka didn't know where he teleported to, or what time it was, but at the moment he didn't care. Picking his way through the wet rubble, he tried to ignore the fading red of the full moon almost indecipherable in between the thick patches of clouds. The rain was picking up, drenching straight through his clothes and he shivered as he tried to push exhaustion away. Ahead of him, there were sickening squelches of tearing flesh. A dark form, he read as a demon, was hunched over a child he couldn't sense.

Ignoring his confusion and hopping the debris blocking his way, he pulled a fuda forward sending bright bursts of holy light. It had the intended effect of helping a fellow coworker from a hungry demon, but the unintended consequence was a revealing light.

"Tsu...zuki."

Eyes glowing purple from residual reflection, his partner snarled inhumanly as his face slowly washed of fresh blood under the downpour. It was as if Tsuzuki didn't exist in the hungry eyes of whatever he was looking at. It was without the familiar conscience that Hisoka associated with the man. Suddenly it charged at him crashing bodily into him, and Hisoka was suddenly struggling frantically under a body far smaller than he.

It desired him in all manners of the word, and it disgusted and frightened Hisoka. If this was Tsuzuki's base needs, it was no wonder his partner was terrified of getting close to anyone. Rolling over and holding him in place with his weight, Hisoka fought the lurching feeling in his gut. His strength was too sapped to do anything more, and he was without a plan as to what he should do about the source of all of Tsuzuki's self-hatred, fear and immense guilt. The thing beneath him snarled, sensing the weakness in the larger man. He was strangely reminded of the last battle with Sagantanus-possessed Tsuzuki, except for the considerable lack of planning and cruelty in actions.

"Tsuzuki, come back!"

Lightening rendered everything white for a moment and Tsuzuki broke free with his tenacious thrashing and tore into the arm that had helped trap him there. Losing his grip Hisoka screamed as he was shoved on his back. He was shaking from fear and fatigue as he locked his arms with a death-grip on Tsuzuki's shirt to keep his ravenous mouth away from him. He could feel roiling thunder of a storm passing overhead underneath him. Likewise, he could feel how his partner basely craved sex and violence as the images of tearing into his delicate flesh and thrusting—

"STOP TSUZUKI!"

And it stopped. Wet hair plastered to his face, his partner laid very still against his outstretched hands, stiffening as a familiar presence emerged like a sluggish butterfly from its cocoon…

"Oh gods…" The tears ran anew down his face as Tsuzuki's numb shock turned into horror at a relapse that had occurred only once before when he was still alive. Old nightmares joined the litany of new memory replays. Sorrow and guilt escalated into desolation as Tsuzuki tried to withdraw again, but Hisoka wouldn't allow it. "Please stay." His voice was shaky and drained, but had a firmness to it that Tsuzuki couldn't disregard. Tightening his grip on Tsuzuki's shirt, Hisoka refused to let his partner do any of the innumerable self-destructive things he had in mind, and somehow Tsuzuki, though he didn't accept it, understood his protectiveness.

"I told you I'm a monster." The dark, shaky chuckles that leaked out of him slipped into great sobs of air. Hisoka released him, and Tsuzuki rocked in place yelling into the night as if agony had swallowed him whole with a veracity that left Hisoka's heart and ears ringing. Tsuzuki continued the mental broken record of evidence, while Hisoka vicariously felt his pain, anguish, deep self-hatred, and altruistic love of anything but himself. It really was easy to love everyone if you thought you were on a level below them. It was the last bits of himself that Tsuzuki kept hidden, and it was driving him insane. "I'm a monster." Serious eyes met Hisoka's daring to refute the proof. When Hisoka said nothing, Tsuzuki looked away, his longing for humanity crushed under the truth of his nature. "I think it would be better for you… if we weren't partners."

"…" Hisoka looked at his own hands having an idea occur to him. "If you feel that way, I want you to do something for me."

His partner's face crumbled even as he smiled and Hisoka winced as the cursemarks reacted to Tsuzuki's distrust searing through his mind like a hot poker. His partner thought he would simply discard him in light of weighty evidence, despite everything they had gone through.

"Take my hand." Hisoka reached out, relieved that his ripped clothes were covering his scars though not sure if Tsuzuki would have noticed them anyway in the state he was in. When hesitant fingers met his and slipped into his palm, he grimaced as his curse flared and he could hear Tsuzuki's 'solutions'. His partner stared uncomprehendingly at the yellow color radiating from under Hisoka's soaked shirt, though he could feel the expectant warmth under the cool veil of Hisoka's personality. Tsuzuki wasn't stupid. His eyes turned accusing and desperate when he felt what his partner intended. "Don't—"

"Forget that you just lost control." Immediately the memories on a loop regressed and forced themselves back into his subconscious, shriveling up like salt added to a slug, and the glow of his curse vanished. All was silence on Hisoka's end, and he realized that Tsuzuki's charm was still in effect. Their bond, the pathway between them that had circumvented the charm's power without disruption, had closed.

Shocked at the presence of Hisoka, Tsuzuki forgot what he was about to say. With a slow blink, he looked at their hands connecting with a confused grin. "What're—Hidouzaki!!" Dropping his hands to his pockets for fuda though he knew that active magic would have been nullified by the absorption seal the demon had cast, he spun around on his knees and frowned at the moonlit debris glistening as if a storm had passed through, knowing he had missed several hours somewhere. As much as he tried to remember, it was blissfully empty. He ran his tongue over his teeth tasting blood lingering in his mouth. He assumed it was his own. "What happened? Wait, Io! Io, are you ok?"

Hisoka held his breath thankful for his partner's short attention span and stood up slowly brushing the grit off him. A great weight had settled in between his shoulderblades and he didn't know why. He took a deep clearing breath as Tsuzuki stumbled clumsily towards her.

The child Shinigami, her blood clotting underneath her, smiled weakly for Tsuzuki having witnessed a miracle and been victim to an unspeakable act. "So you remember…" She coughed some. "Once I heal, I should be…"

"Let me." Meeting her eyes, they shared a moment of understanding though no thoughts or memories were shared between them.

"Please do."

With a soft touch to her shoulder, he attempted to heal her, but nothing happened. He snapped his hand back when a murmur of emotions seeped into whispers of memories. He didn't sense anything more from her and frowned.

"The barrier must still be in effect." She coughed again. Hisoka flinched at the blood splatter reminded of his first fight with Muraki.

"I'll carry you out of it then." Tsuzuki knelt and gently scooped her up, unaware of the terror brightly contrasting in between the affection and loyalty that suddenly crippled Hisoka. It was as if he had picked her up personally. It was as if his link to Tsuzuki hadn't closed at all.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you were a Shinigami-ko?" Tsuzuki sounded quiet, noticing how tense she was in his arms, but oblivious to what caused it and the fact that she had forgiven him. While Hisoka agreed with the rationality behind it, he couldn't fathom why emotionally she could.

"I shall not mind people to it, Tsuzuki. It would have wrought no good. You were satisfied that I was laid to rest, and I would never correct something so small for the sake of a selfish truth. Knowledge would have and has made you regret." I had been naïve, wanting a joyous reunion, but after our partnership I knew you were filled with such sorrow that I could not hope to unravel…

Tsuzuki's face was blank feeling ill at that as they stepped outside the thick string of glowing kanji lining the ground, flickering as the remaining power of its initial sacrifice faded. He laid her down turning to his partner as Hisoka knelt next to her very aware of the gaping maw of a hole in her chest and the organs slowly reforming within it, almost afraid of the unconscious synchronization he knew would happen the moment he touched her.

She gazed up at Hisoka for a moment, looking all for the world like a seven year-old staving off shock. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Hatekeyama Nui."

"Kurosaki Hisoka. Nice to meet you." He bowed slightly, fighting off the dizziness of fatigue. There was no way to determine how old this seven year-old really was, though she must really adore Tsuzuki if she had not made any mention of his violent regression. Uninformed of her ability, he thought of how unpleasant it must be to be forever a child, though he had to admit he was a little confused over Tsuzuki's first question.

Bringing a cautious hand to her arm, he let his healing power slip into her, gritting his teeth to mend the worst damage as the discordant imagery and talking battered against his mind. 'Oniichan! Oniichan!' The backlash of emotion he had kept at bay, crashed through him overpowering his attempt at control. With a sigh, his eyes rolled back and his body slumped into awaiting arms.

"Hisoka… He must have worn himself out." Tsuzuki had noticed how Hisoka had lagged somewhat on their walk to get outside the absorption seal's reign, and had stayed nearby once Io was taken care of. Tsuzuki pulled him against him as Io sat up tugging the loose bathrobe over her shoulder and firmly tying it, a newly formed scab centered on her chest that would likely leave a scar.

His eyes had a deadly sharpness to it. "Nui, what happened in the fight and why is Hisoka here?"

"You beat the demon, but he fled after dealing a fatal attack. Sachiya chased after it. As for your partner, he appeared suddenly. I know not why."

Struggling and succeeding to pull Hisoka's deadweight into an upright position, Tsuzuki carefully placed Hisoka's body against his back, leaning forward as he anchored Hisoka's arms around his neck. "You go find your partner. I'm heading to the JuuOhCho infirmary. The clean up crew will take care of the rest." He blinked when his hand slipped over a spot on his left arm, and looked blankly at the blood on his hand. Because he couldn't bend Hisoka's arm to see the curious wound without breaking his elbow, Tsuzuki left it alone sure that Watari could tend to him. He felt guilty that he hadn't realized Hisoka had been injured.

"Good plan." Nodding, Nui didn't comment on the nasty laceration on Hisoka's arm anymore than Hisoka would have. "We will gather there."

After Tsuzuki had disappeared, she turned calling out her partner's name as she ran back towards the inn, sensing for him. Running around the wreckage of the back area, a contrast of holy and demonic energies assaulted her senses. The place was a mess of rubble and dwindling fire. "Sachiya!"

"Over here." He wheezed out in the unnatural stillness of the area. His bathrobe was torn and tattered, blood staining its off-white texture. A deep wound in his chest that extended down to his abdomen was in the process of healing thought it was no longer a severe wound. He stank of demonic influence.

Immediately, Nui flicked open her cigarette lighters, concerned that he had become possessed. "Sachi-kun, are you well?"

"DON'T CALL ME—GRK!"

"I would like to gently remind you that you are very injured. Yelling will only aggravate those wounds." Talking calmly Nui placed her lighters away, crouching next to her partner demanding an answer. "How did you come to acquire those?"

"Someone who kicked my ass." His breath hissed in.

"Were we successful in the soul retrieval?"

"No. This guy dressed all in white showed up, busted my camera, and snatched the soul from my hands. Called himself Muraki. They originally thought he was perp."

"I see. Come, let us get you some medical help, Shade."

He didn't move after a long moment, grimacing. "That monster… it made it so we couldn't teleport out?"

"Yes. We are not far from the edge of the spell."

He nodded lightly slowly getting to his feet, and with her help they stepped beyond the spell teleporting.

They disappeared a half an hour before the clean-up crew appeared to fix everything that was damaged. There were no survivors, and the mysterious disappearance of the staff and the inn's guests were reported locally and nationally. Separate theories, also known as overglorified rumors, made outlandish claims of the Devil himself shining like a dark purple beacon in the storm devouring every poor soul he came across only to be defeated by a brilliant heavenly dragon shimmering silver in its wake.

TBC.

Shinigami-ko means literally "Shinigami-child".