Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Yami no Matsuei, thank you very much.
That's What Love Is For
Chapter Five
One Flower Does Not Bring Spring
"I will return for you shortly."
Tsuzuki.
Hisoka's heart thumped in fear as his eyes slid around. He didn't remember falling asleep. He'd been arguing with Byakko, angry that during one of his bouts against his lethargy the damn cat had managed to sneak the last gulp of milk down his throat.
He'd been telling Byakko in no uncertain terms that simply because the ass was waiting for Tsuzuki to wake up, that didn't mean he could go and eat his home bare... and then he'd tripped...
And suddenly he'd found himself here.
It was definitely still the laboratory, and the fire was licking around the floor and ceiling with slow ardor, but there wasn't the raging, choking mass of smoke and flames that Hisoka usually found himself in. More, Tsuzuki wasn't ahead of him, surrounded by the flames, like usual, either.
This wasn't supposed to be happening. He'd been wide awake. Well, maybe not wide, but... but he couldn't fall asleep mid-sentence! Was he... daydreaming? But he really couldn't move. He was once again trapped in place, unable to pull himself free, as if the air itself was holding him still. He tugged experimentally, but no part of his body moved.
Tsuzuki would wake him up soon. He knew it would only take a split second for Byakko to realize what had happened, and then only a short while longer for the Shikigami to awaken Tsuzuki and get him over to the table where Hisoka lay.
He would be woken up soon. Soon.
He couldn't see Tsuzuki in front of him, but he could Feel him. From behind? But he wasn't nearby... more like a few good meters distant. Hisoka tried to look, but his head didn't turn. He wanted to curse, but his lips didn't move, and his larynx didn't activate.
He just stood there stupidly waiting for the fire or Tsuzuki to come to him.
"Well, it seems the spell finally brought you to me."
Hisoka glared at nothing as the scars on his body scorched to life.
"You always were a favorite of mine. Such a pretty little pet." He Felt Tsuzuki's presence coming closer – no, not Tsuzuki's, but the fake Tsuzuki's. The steps shouldn't have echoed, not with the fire all around them, licking at the columns supporting the building, but nonetheless Hisoka heard each one distinctly.
He struggled madly where he stood. No, this couldn't happen. In this false world, there was nothing Hisoka could do – he was a victim, someone with absolutely no control over his situation. He couldn't fight back here!
"I won't let it happen," Muraki growled. "I will not lose all my hard work!"
Hisoka wanted to argue, to cut a scathing retort, but of course he couldn't. Tsuzuki's chest bumped against his back. The man's emotions were deadened, almost non-existent. It wasn't normal; usually Hisoka could Feel the man's hate coming off of him in waves. It made him nervous, made him fear the body behind him more than usual. It couldn't be the real Tsuzuki... but still, the lack of emotions was strange, and so discomforting.
And then Tsuzuki's hands wrapped around him, clenching his waist and chest, and the man sagged against him. Tsuzuki's chin rested on Hisoka's shoulder, leaving the dark swirls of hair to tickle at Hisoka's cheek.
"Hisoka – Hisoka. Thank God. You idiot." Those hands clenched around him tighter. "What were you thinking? We're close to the end, but we still have to be careful. Come on. We have to get out of here."
Hisoka couldn't Feel much, the emotions were still so muted. But why were they muted? And what the hell was this fake Tsuzuki talking about? It sounded... almost real.
But the real Tsuzuki couldn't be here.
Could he?
Tsuzuki unwrapped himself from around Hisoka and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him back. "Hisoka? Hurry – oh. Shit, that's right; you can't move." And Tsuzuki came around to face him. "Hisoka – I can't stay in here much longer. I'm going to get you out, okay? Just wait a little while longer, all right?"
What was happening? Where was the fake Tsuzuki? Hisoka wanted so desperately to speak, to ask. He tried to convey his questions with his eyes, and was surprised to see the Tsuzuki in front of him trying to read them.
"Ah, Tsuzuki. It's so nice to see you again."
Tsuzuki immediately snapped his spine straight and glared around. "Muraki! So you really are here! Let Hisoka go!"
"I'm afraid not, my love. And you shouldn't have come. Your dear Hisoka seems to like it here. He isn't even trying to leave."
"That's because you have him trapped here!" Tsuzuki raged. Hisoka could Feel his anger, but there wasn't a lot of it, and it seemed almost as if it were covered by cottonballs.
If it truly was Tsuzuki... then how the hell had he gotten inside the dream?
Hisoka's heart tripped in fear. This was bad. Tsuzuki was in the dream, and if he truly had managed to find a way inside, he'd willingly placed himself in danger. This wasn't the real world. Muraki was God here, able to manipulate everything-
"Ah, but my precious little demon, you've trapped yourself here, as well. What should I do? Leave you here with my dear pet? Or should I...?" And the man chuckled.
Hisoka clenched his muscles tight, expending all his energy in his effort to move, to get to Tsuzuki as the man turned around, then around again, trying to find Muraki somewhere in the empty lab. Hisoka couldn't tell him that Muraki was never there in any sort of form. He couldn't warn Tsuzuki away. All he could do was waste his time and energy trying to do something for Tsuzuki, even knowing he couldn't.
"Damn you, Muraki, show yourself!"
"Oh? But am I your greatest fear?"
Hisoka's heart trip-hammered in his chest, even as his lungs grew cold. He couldn't. If Muraki managed to send Tsuzuki to those days when he was human, Hisoka would never be able to forgive himself. And Muraki would have them both.
That was unacceptable.
"I won't let you have your way," Tsuzuki hissed, turning back toward Hisoka. Those amethyst eyes flashed back to Hisoka, taking in the younger boy's fearful face. Tsuzuki gave him a reassuring smile.
And just like that, he was gone.
Hisoka struggled against whatever invisible bonds held him, his chest tight with terror. If that was Tsuzuki – if it was him, the real Tsuzuki – then he'd just been...
"Now, shall we continue where we left off?" Muraki mused, and Hisoka was suddenly aware of Tsuzuki behind him again, of the echoing footsteps. His mind stumbled over itself in confusion. What was this? Had that all been fake? Had he imagined it?
But the footsteps stopped behind him, and the Feel was suddenly different. Anger, hatred, triumph. Arms wrapped around him again, but this time the fingers scratched against his chest, over his nipples, and he gasped a pained breath through his nose. Tsuzuki's head bent down again, but this time his teeth bit cruelly into Hisoka's neck. He couldn't move away from it, and the Fake-Tsuzuki took the chance to tear into the skin, moving his lower jaw to dig deeper. Tears of pain spurted into Hisoka's eyes.
"Oh? How fascinating. Seems your dear feelings were returned, my little doll. He's watching me take your soul."
The pain that tore through him then was different from Tsuzuki's jaw, deeper and more agonizing than anything he could have imagined. The tears fell silently down his cheeks.
Tsuzuki.
No. No, this couldn't be happening. Tsuzuki wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be safe. Hisoka was the one who was supposed to be suffering, the one who had to deal with his worst nightmare. Why? Why did Tsuzuki have to hurt even more?
Fake-Tsuzuki's hands slid down Hisoka's arms, down to his fingers. His right hand was released, but his left was lingered on. And before Hisoka could bring himself to notice this, his first finger was yanked back, and a smart snap preceded the sharp lance of pain.
Muraki chuckled. "I'm afraid I simply must leave you, my puppet. My dear love's pain is more precious than gold."
Leave him alone! He wanted to scream, but still nothing of him worked. What was Tsuzuki seeing? What was he going through? Was the man truly watching Hisoka's death? He knew for a fact how crippling it was to see the one you loved die in front of you. He'd seen it enough times to know, after all.
A warmth touched his lips, almost searing in its heat. Fake-Tsuzuki walked around him and grabbed his lower lip, pinching it between his fingers.
Why did his face feel wet where none of his tears had fallen?
"Let's not waste any more time," Fake-Tsuzuki said, his lips twisting up. The look didn't suit Tsuzuki's face at all.
Tsuzuki.
The man's cool hands wrapped tenderly around Hisoka's left arm, bracing it. Hisoka knew very well what was coming, but he couldn't move to stop it. And with one sharp wrench, his arm was broken.
He couldn't scream, but he thought he heard a shout, anyway. The fire flashed brighter around him and climbed further up the columns. The heat was getting stronger.
"Ah, how magnificent," Muraki spoke, his voice so sudden Hisoka thought he might have jumped if he weren't stuck in place. "My dear Tsuzuki will find it hard to wake up for quite a while," he chuckled. "His mind won't be leaving here for some time. He shouldn't have come to save you. But of course, if his greatest fear was losing you, I suppose he didn't have much of a choice. It makes me quite jealous, actually."
Hisoka's breath stuttered to a halt once more.
Fake-Tsuzuki took the lapse of attention personally, it seemed; he snapped Hisoka's other arm in retribution.
Hisoka felt the pain up and down his arm and into his neck, but it seemed so unimportant. Was... Tsuzuki really here, in the dream? Was he...?
The warmth returned to his lips, the wetness increasing. Deep inside him, he thought he Felt someone's terror and dread.
The Fake-Tsuzuki knelt onto one knee before him and looked up into his eyes. Tsuzuki was smiling, but it wasn't the real Tsuzuki's smile. It wasn't the sweet, almost melancholy smile of their first days together, and it certainly wasn't the smile brimming with happiness that Hisoka had been graced with that day underneath the sakura trees.
The fake Tsuzuki's hand slid up his legs and encircled his waist. Bad. This was going to be very, very bad.
The man's grip had always been surprisingly strong, but this fake Tsuzuki had more, far more, as if he'd been given steroids. Hisoka couldn't react as the man's hands clenched hard on either side of his stomach, but that was probably best.
"Hm. This is going far too slowly – I'm missing crucial time with my beloved. Hurry up, will you?"
Hisoka's eyes didn't waver from the Fake-Tsuzuki, but nonetheless he didn't see where the knife came from.
It wasn't a simple house knife – no, such a thing would be far too tacky for Muraki's tastes. It looked to be a kris, the blade curved into little ripples. The Fake-Tsuzuki looked down at it for a moment, studying it.
Hisoka pulled futilely once more. Maybe if he could escape somehow, then he could get to Tsuzuki-
A part of him, as if from very far away, thought he heard someone screaming.
But his attention was drawn back down to Tsuzuki, whose fingers played upon the blade but whose eyes had moved to study the lower half of Hisoka's body. He felt his fear spike, a natural male instinct to preserve himself.
But the blade, when moved, was not put to rest against Hisoka's groin, but instead against his inner thigh. To tease? Hisoka once again tested his invisible chains, hoping to escape before anything more happened. His arms hurt with every heartbeat.
Slowly, deliberately, the Fake-Tsuzuki tore a long, deep gash on the inside of Hisoka's thigh. He pulled in another breath through his nose, unable to do anything else to acknowledge the pain, but still it was there, and Hisoka felt his blood immediately coat his leg and spurt. A vein? The femoral artery, he remembered belatedly, as the Fake-Tsuzuki turned to his other leg and repeated the same process. This Tsuzuki was controlled by Muraki. A doctor. He would know exactly where to... to cut.
Hisoka couldn't move, but he felt his body lax despite his fear and pain. He tried to pull in more energy, but he just couldn't find it. He felt veritable rivers of blood pooling at his feet. The fire raged higher than ever, as if feeling his weakness and wanting to feed on it. On him.
Fake-Tsuzuki stood then and smirked, their faces only inches apart. "Much better," he whispered. "Your heart is so fragile, Hisoka. You try to act tough, but you're still just a child. You hear that your love is in danger, and you lose sight of the truth."
"Did you find the seal, my puppet? Did you salvage anything from the fire? Let me tell you a little secret." Muraki's voice echoed within the false room. Hisoka could hardly hear it, his body sagging into its restraints. Why did he think he heard someone crying?
"Hisoka!"
"The curse I placed on you?" Muraki paused dramatically, even though he wasn't corporeal enough to lean in and whisper into Hisoka's ear, "no one can enter it from the outside except myself."
Hisoka jerked back into awareness. His mind whirred. The seal, he remembered, and studied it in his mind again. The seal had been made out of circles within circles. No part of the seal had rested outside of it. Circles were difficult to penetrate, being equal on all sides.
Muraki was right. It most likely wouldn't be possible for someone to break in.
But that meant... Hisoka's eyes widened minutely as shame poured over him. His heart tripped once, then again. That meant Tsuzuki wasn't here. He hadn't entered Hisoka's dream – he hadn't been caught by Muraki.
And then he let himself sag once more. Thank goodness. Thank goodness. That meant Tsuzuki was unharmed.
"So what will you do now, I wonder? You certainly can't fight me. You can't live much longer, either. What will you do, my little doll, now that you're about to leave the worlds?"
"Hisoka!"
The shot of despair pierced straight through Hisoka's last vestiges of consciousness and make him look around groggily, eyes desperately trying to scan as much as they could without the aid of a turning neck. He could hear a voice, and could Feel a desolation so great it ate at him. This time when his heart beat, he was unaware of the pain flowing from every corner of his body as relief and happiness chugged sluggishly through his system.
Tsuzuki.
His eyes raised to the ceiling above him, trying to reach out for the voice.
"It's too late!" Muraki cackled. "Yes – let him wake you. Let him see just how hopeless his situation is! And when he sees – when he understands – who do you think he will crawl to, little boy? Who do you think he will beg on bended knee to spare your life? Bring him to me! Bring my beautiful body to me!"
No... he wouldn't let that happen...
He Felt Tsuzuki's call, an inner, tormented scream that pulled Hisoka free from where he stood, and finally he began to fall to the ground of the burning building, letting his weary body collapse in defeat.
Hisoka's eyes were heavy, almost heavy enough to make him give up on the challenge of opening them. But the wracking sobs he heard and the harsh, merciless tug of despair across his senses forced him to bully his way toward the surface of consciousness.
Then the pain slammed into him, hard and quick, and he let out a breathy moan of distress. It was the moan that broke Tsuzuki out of his crying and had him touching Hisoka's shoulders, feather-light. "H-Hisoka?"
"Tsuzuki." He couldn't manage much more than a short breath, almost too quiet to be heard. He slid his gaze over to Tsuzuki's voice. The man looked horrible. His hair was up in alfalfa sprouts and his face was awash with tears, his eyes red and swollen. But otherwise, Hisoka noted in high relief, he looked all right.
"Hisoka, oh thank God."
The words were so similar to what the fake Tsuzuki had said in the dream that Hisoka flinched. Tsuzuki immediately let go, mistakenly thinking he'd hurt Hisoka. "I..." Despite himself, Hisoka's eyes drooped. "I'm sorry. I was careless."
"I don't – I don't care about that." Tsuzuki sounded ready to burst into tears again. "Just hold on, okay? I'm going to get some wrappings..." And Tsuzuki made to stand.
"No!" Hisoka moved to reach out and grab Tsuzuki back down, momentarily forgetting about his broken arms in his haste. He screamed then as his bone shifted against its other half. "Don't," he panted. "Don't go. I need you h-here."
Tsuzuki seemed surprised by that admission, but he immediately sat back down, and Hisoka couldn't care about anything else at that moment. "I – I messed up. We're so close, and I..."
"Don't worry about it, it doesn't matter. Watari will find the way to break the curse and we'll be able to free you. You won't disappear. You'll stay with me."
It sounded more like Tsuzuki was trying to convince himself.
"I won't leave you," Hisoka whispered. "Enma knows no one else can stand to work with you."
Tsuzuki coughed out an almost hysterical chuckle. "That's right. You're the only one who can keep me in line. Right, Hisoka?"
"Mm." Hisoka's eyes drooped again, almost shutting closed. He could feel his tired body trying to heal itself and wanted to scream at the wave of exhaustion that swept over him. His finger was the first to be healed, the easiest thing to take care of. Hisoka was vaguely aware of the blood that still ran freely from his open wounds and scowled. That would be impossible to get out of the carpet.
"Hisoka? Hisoka, please talk to me."
"Hmm. Thank you for calling me back, Tsuzuki."
The man's emotions didn't react well to that one. "I – I failed. No matter what I did, you wouldn't come back to me. I kept screaming for you, kept touching you, even-" and here he blushed "-even kissed you, but none of it worked."
"No," Hisoka sighed, arguing quietly. "It worked." He took a second to look around. The chair was still toppled over, but it lay beside him, though he was positive he'd fallen with it tangled around him. Tsuzuki must have flung it away. Or maybe Byakko had?
He reached out emotionally, but he couldn't Feel the Shikigami around anymore. He guessed the annoying brat had been sent away and let that be enough for him.
Tsuzuki gasped, one sharp intake of horror, and Hisoka was forced to turn back to him, brow furrowed slightly. "What?"
Wordlessly Tsuzuki looked down to Hisoka's right arm. At Hisoka's uncomprehending look, Tsuzuki gently lifted Hisoka's right arm, holding Hisoka's hand up to be studied by the both of them. His fingers were transparent.
Hisoka hissed. "This can't continue," he sighed. "Watari needs to hurry up."
But Tsuzuki's fingers were trembling, and his emotions were anything but patient. "We don't have time to wait. We can't gamble on Watari's genius solving this in time."
The steely determination made Hisoka's chest freeze. "No. Tsuzuki, you can't." Tsuzuki placed his hand back down, his touch acting as if Hisoka were porcelain, and stood. "No. Tsuzuki, this is just what he wants. He said he wanted you to-"
"Then that's what I'll do!" Tsuzuki snarled. His fists clenched tight. Hisoka could Feel the man's emotions, and there was only desperate determination.
"Tsuzuki, you can't," Hisoka managed. "He wants you – he said he wanted-"
"Hisoka." Tsuzuki turned to him again, and before Hisoka knew it, Tsuzuki had leaned down and kissed him. "I can't let this continue. I have to go to him."
"Then I'm going with you," Hisoka hissed.
"The hell you are."
"You're not allowed to go anywhere alone! Partners stick together!"
"That's what I'm trying to ensure!"
Hisoka's breath gasped in at the sharp flow of fear that Tsuzuki lost grip of. Fear, panic. Hisoka struggled to get up from the floor, needing to stand. "I won't let you go alone. Take Tatsumi, at least."
"No. He won't speak to me if Tatsumi's there."
"You can't go alone!" Hisoka clutched at Tsuzuki's arm with his tangible fingers. His grip was pathetically weak, but he didn't let it deter him. He needed to make sure Tsuzuki didn't up and leave him. He had to do whatever it took. "You can't go alone," he repeated. "Take me. Let me go with you. I can't do much, but I'm not useless yet. And what if something happens when you aren't here?" He knew it was underhanded, pulling that one out, but he Felt Tsuzuki's hesitation, Felt the fear morph to this new fear. And he knew he could win if he only tried a little harder.
It took every once of will to stand. His legs were no longer bleeding, and the wave of exhaustion his healing left him with almost made him fall once more to the ground. But with a gritting of his teeth and a steady hand on the table, he managed to get his feet firmly planted underneath him. "Tsuzuki," he gasped, "don't leave me."
It was difficult to say the words, but he could Feel the victory they brought him. Tsuzuki gave in. "I won't," he whispered, and Hisoka let the man's arms encircle him. "I won't leave you, Hisoka." His emotions finished his words for him: so don't you leave me. And come hell itself, Hisoka would do his utmost not to.
Hisoka wasn't much back-up, but it was better than Tsuzuki going alone.
By the time the two got back to the mortal world, Hisoka was once again under control, his and Tsuzuki's clothes changed – the amount of blood all over them had been bad, ridiculously bad, and Tsuzuki had been so traumatized by it he'd needed to take a quick shower – and Hisoka was able to stand. His hand, too, had gained a bit more color, though not much; he ended up having to hide its nonexistence in his pocket.
They walked down a street for a short while, passing others on their way to or from, Tsuzuki's eyes switching from left to right and his hands practically itching to grab Hisoka and pull him horizontal, to make him rest. The Feel of Tsuzuki's worry was almost as consuming as his own concern.
"I don't know where to look," Tsuzuki admitted.
"Why bother looking?" Hisoka muttered. "Just go somewhere private and yell out for him. The bastard has the habit of showing up everywhere."
Tsuzuki frowned at that, apparently unaware of the heavy level of sarcasm in Hisoka's voice.
"I could try to call him," Hisoka said, his voice much lower now. "I know his magical energies well enough – and Chief Konoe taught me enough – that I should be able to at least link to him."
"But you don't have-"
"Don't even start that," Hisoka snapped. He didn't wait for Tsuzuki to try to argue against him doing it – how the hell else were they supposed to find the man? Hisoka was short on time. He knew much fuller than Tsuzuki just how much strength he had left. He was working on fumes. Tsuzuki didn't know that.
Tsuzuki quickly found a chapel and led Hisoka to it, the frown on his face deepening as he entered. Hisoka couldn't help but think about the spell he'd seen on a church floor, one he'd known had been hurting Tsuzuki. Back when they'd first met. He didn't want to think about it, to wonder at the parallels. He couldn't afford to.
The place was small, dark and almost oppressive. Hisoka never really liked the Feel of churches – the enclosed, sacred oneness that it demanded, the Feelings of need and desperation and a sort of faith that begged. Then there was the stench of hope that sang through it all, greedy hope. Hisoka rolled his shoulders. He really didn't like it here.
"Hisoka? Are you all right?"
Vaguely he nodded, not bothering to look into Tsuzuki's eyes, knowing the man would be looking down at him with that familiar scared glance, the assessing one that didn't know whether to grab and protect or let him be. The damn windows were all stained, each depicting a person in an ethereal glow. He avoided looking into their eyes. "Let's get this started."
"Hisoka..."
"I told you not to start." But he clapped Tsuzuki on the shoulder and smiled for him. "The sooner all of this bullshit is over, the sooner I can sleep in peace and the sooner we can get back to normal."
The hope in Tsuzuki's emotions was a thousand times more soothing than the church's.
He pulled his translucent hand out, relieved to see it slowly returning, and concentrated. His tiredness wasn't important; his unsteadiness was irrelevant. He needed to find Muraki and bring him here, and he needed to protect Tsuzuki from the obvious threat Muraki represented. He couldn't let Tsuzuki make any stupid sacrifices for him.
"You know I'd never forgive you... if you did something idiotic now, right?"
Tsuzuki said nothing, but Hisoka knew he was listening. Knew he was reacting.
"...I know."
And Hisoka would have to be content with that. For now.
It was difficult to pull the threads of the energy together, since one of his hands wasn't there to form it. He had to close his eyes and strain to catch every thread he could, and he found himself thankful that he was in a church, if for no other reason than because the energies could morph and thrive in this building without fear of being considered evil. Though it was misinterpreted, the energy could grow and purify. Hisoka blew out a steady breath and circled his good hand around the small orb. He thought on Muraki, on his physical form, on his madness. His mind slipped farther before he could stop it, remembering his touch, his voice, his laughter, and he felt, once more, the disgust and dirtiness of the memories.
But it worked.
Almost before he started chanting, Muraki's presence could be Felt from within the orb. He paused in his chanting long enough to say, simply, "we're here." And then he began chanting again.
Tsuzuki took Hisoka's words as his cue and stood at the ready, his eyes once more glancing everywhere at once, unsure of where to look.
It took a long time, and Hisoka could only assume the man had been a fair distance away – or perhaps he was forcing Hisoka to wait, to work, to suffer under the strain – but Muraki walked calmly through the front doors of the chapel almost an hour after Hisoka had begun calling to him. With a gasp, Hisoka let the orb fall. The light it made, a soft, dark gold, crashed to the wooden floor of the church and disappeared. Hisoka felt sweat on his brow and upper lip and felt the weight of his body slam into each of his limbs. His hands fell to his sides, but he kept his feet underneath him.
"Ah, I see you couldn't wait for me."
Muraki's eyes turned to Hisoka, and the man grinned outright. "My dear doll, you look an absolute mess. You should take better care of yourself."
Hisoka snarled, but he couldn't find the energy to string together a proper insult.
"Leave Hisoka alone," Tsuzuki demanded, standing in front of Hisoka, blocking the boy's view of Muraki.
The pain of the curse made Hisoka's body tremble even harder than before, almost as if he had palsy. Still he tested the strength of his arms, ready to do whatever he could to stop Tsuzuki from his inevitable self-sacrificing stupidity.
"I have plans for him."
"I won't let you hurt him!"
"And what can you do to stop me? Haven't you seen how easily I can thwart you, my dear Tsuzuki?"
Muraki moved with his usual fluidity to stand before Tsuzuki and cupped the man's chin. Hisoka put his hands together, wishing both were corporeal so that he could guarantee Tsuzuki's safety.
Muraki's eyes flicked to him and caught on his right hand. "My, my. Looks like you're in trouble, little one."
Hisoka bared his teeth. "Not for much longer."
"Oh?" The man grinned widely. "Sleep."
Hisoka staggered back, his breath stuck in his throat. His legs trembled. "No!" he shouted. "I won't!"
Tsuzuki smacked Muraki's hand away from him. "Leave him alone! You have no guarantee of getting what you want from Hisoka – but from me?! There's no question you can get that person back if you use me!"
"Tsuzuki, no!"
Muraki laughed. "Why take one when I can have both?"
"If you won't take one," Tsuzuki growled, "you won't get either!" He snapped his hands forward. " I, Asato Tsuzuki, call upon you according to our contract, Guardian of the South. Come, Suzaku!"
Hisoka barely had time to cover his face before the great bird burst out at Tsuzuki's call. Suzaku attacked Muraki before Tsuzuki could even tell her to, as if she'd been about to do so whether he called for her or not.
"Dear Tsuzuki, you flatter me." Muraki ignored Suzaku's fiery wings, even as they closed around him. The heat was sudden and overpowering, and it reminded Hisoka too much of his dreams. He squinted his eyes and stared at Tsuzuki, at the back that was staring into flames. His heart lurched in his chest.
Hisoka leaned his hands forward and clenched them, drawing on all the power he could. He had to protect Tsuzuki. During this fight... unlike the others, when he'd been bait, or useless, or merely a spectator... this time, he would do everything he could. And the power he had, the strength he had... it all lay in protection.
He called out to the remaining energy in the room and demanded it to work for him.
Suzaku screeched in pain as Hisoka worked, and Tsuzuki's emotions spluttered in concern. His focus snapped. "Suzaku?!"
"You underestimate me!" Muraki shot forward from Suzaku's fire, a glistening aura showing the shield he'd placed around himself. Tsuzuki stumbled away from the man's assault, but Muraki's hand shot out and caught his wrist. Tsuzuki cursed as his eyes fell on Muraki's free hand and the dark purple glow that tinged the man's fingers.
"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka summoned the power in the room and shouted a quick, "Nipootateuw!" He focused on Tsuzuki, thought about the man's violet eyes and bright, wide smile and the sorrow of his soul that Hisoka wished he could take away. He thought about how much he loved Tsuzuki, loved him despite the stupidity of the word and the fluidity of the term, and he prayed this quick spell worked.
With a shout of triumph, Muraki's hand crashed into Tsuzuki's stomach. Tsuzuki jumped and hissed.
And then they both paused, staring at where their bodies meshed as if they'd never seen such things before. And then both, as one, turned to Hisoka, taking in his outstretched hand, his panting breaths and the sweat that poured down his cheeks.
"Tsuzuki," he breathed.
Tsuzuki nodded and turned to Muraki, who was snarling at Hisoka. With one smooth twist, Muraki's wrist was in Tsuzuki's hand. "Suzaku!"
The Shikigami screeched, telling Tsuzuki to move, but he didn't budge.
"I got him," Hisoka gasped out, then again, "I got him, Suzaku! Just hurry!"
Muraki glared at Hisoka again, then let his eyes slide to Tsuzuki. "I will never let the boy go," he hissed. "He will continue to fade until he doesn't exist, and you and I will be alone together at last."
Tsuzuki stumbled back, his emotions jumbled in doubt. If he messed up, there wouldn't be a second chance. Hisoka would be gone.
"I'm not going anywhere!" Hisoka shouted, more for Tsuzuki's benefit than for anything else, and he shaped the golden shroud that acted as a barrier between Tsuzuki and Muraki as Tsuzuki's grip loosened.
Suzaku screamed again and lurched forward.
Muraki turned to Hisoka and slashed the air, an arc of blue-gray energy that sliced like a blade. Hisoka barely managed to dodge, his hand still out, still pointing toward Tsuzuki, even as the fool turned to Hisoka as if to try to protect him.
Suzaku made up for Tsuzuki's lapse of judgment, tearing her beak into Muraki's shoulder. He shouted in pain and pulled his free arm forward. With a short mesh of movements, his hand once again began to glow that deep purple.
"Suzaku, look out!" Tsuzuki waved Suzaku back and grabbed Muraki's hand. "Now, Suzaku!"
"You will fail!" Muraki snapped, his eyes wide, his hair finally askew. "Just like before!"
"I don't have the option of failing."
Hisoka strained to keep Tsuzuki in his hastily-made shield. He couldn't afford to fail. Not now, as Suzaku made a third sweep, her flaming feathers burning the pews, the heat making the stained glass windows tremble.
Suzaku encircled them both, just as Hisoka's legs finally collapsed underneath him. With a gasp, he looked at his right arm and watched as he caught the sight of a flame beneath his wrist.
Through his wrist.
"Tsuzuki," he hissed, and turned his eyes back to the fireball, the bird's head that dug into the wings and the crunch and scream of something. The crackle and hiss of burning wood popped through the air, and flames crawled like snakes to the pulpit.
"Suzaku, get away from him." Hisoka coughed and leaned down, trying to get away from the smoke that furled around the ceiling. "Get away from him..." His voice rasped, his throat dry. "Suzaku! Stop!"
Suzaku's head raised and turned to him, those eyes taking in his trembling hand and his posture, straining to keep balance as he leaned forward on his knees, unable to use any hand to help keep his balance. With a screech, she flapped away from the two beneath her, carefully watching Hisoka, almost asking for him to hold on.
But when she moved, only a few burns had dug their way through that damnable white trenchcoat, and the shimmering white light was there again.
"I'm sorry, Tsuzuki," Hisoka gasped out. Finally he dropped his hand and clapped it to the floor, holding himself up and hacking at the smoke. One of the windows burst.
"Hisoka!"
"Pay attention, my love." Hisoka whipped his head up at the words and felt his head start to pound. Tsuzuki and Muraki were dancing, Muraki lunging forward, Tsuzuki tripping back. Muraki was on the offensive, and Tsuzuki seemed to be losing too much ground. Hisoka saw him falling back, deeper into the fire, and struggled to get his feet to work.
"Suzaku, please help him." Hisoka used his good hand to crawl forward, even as the insistent pull of unconsciousness banged its way through his skull. Suzaku seemed to want nothing more than to move forward, but the two were too close to one another-
"Aah!" Tsuzuki's shout was lost in the crunch of breaking timber. Hisoka looked up; the building's plaster was on fire; pieces were beginning to fall from above. A hail of fire. Muraki cackled, his wide eyes glittering in the blaze. Tsuzuki hugged his arm to his side.
"You cannot defeat me, Tsuzuki. You and I both know it – that humanity you try to cling to – it will kill you." Muraki reached out a hand, just barely touching Tsuzuki's cheek before Tsuzuki shook him away and backed up another step. The remains of a pew rested just behind him, burning. He had nowhere to run.
Hisoka reached forward again, concentrating on the fire's heat, its rage and its greed. He was furious, he was greedy. He wanted Tsuzuki to live, and he wanted himself to live.
And he wanted Muraki to die.
Suzaku seemed to see what he was planning and cried out encouragement. One sharp flap of her wings sent a gust of flames, straight into the path Hisoka was trying to create – he hissed his thanks and pushed everything forward, leaning on his bad arm, which simply let him lean on his lower arm as if there'd never been anything below it.
He yelped as he found himself falling to his right as more of his arm became unable to hold him up. He tried to compensate with his right foot and found himself floundering, unable to feel anything there, either. He hitched in a breath.
And Tsuzuki moved.
Hisoka shouted a warning, but it came too late. As Tsuzuki moved to attack Muraki, he moved straight into Hisoka's flames.
It was too late to pull it back. Impossible to stop. Protect, he thought, and spoke, his words garbled, and said the word in every language Konoe had taught him, every language he'd ever thought to know. Muraki screamed as the fire wrapped around his leg, then his groin.
Tsuzuki was silent.
Hisoka's focus dimmed and brightened, then dimmed again. He squinted his eyes and pulled away the fire, stopped pushing, and let his hand drop once more. He tried to see something through the smoke, but there was nothing. Nothing but dark grey and sounds. Scuffling, grunts. He wished he could do more. He wished he wasn't uselessly disappearing when Tsuzuki needed him.
He reached forward, then snapped his hand back as plaster slammed down. The dust flew into Hisoka's face, sparking through the fire, and Hisoka had to close his eyes and cough or else lose the ability to breathe. He heard the rumble of wood that spoke of someone kicking against it, heard a snatch of shouted words. His head swam, the beat of his heart pounding against his skull.
He heard Tsuzuki's voice shouting something, but he couldn't make it out. He gave up on trying to hear and listened with his other sense. Tsuzuki and Muraki were both determined, furious. Tsuzuki was Feeling something almost desperate, as if he were being timed. Muraki, on the other hand, Felt like he had all the time in the world. Like time was on his side.
That put Muraki in advantage.
"Suzaku!" Tsuzuki suddenly screamed, and with a cry Suzaku moved forward, and then Hisoka could see nothing around him but fire.
He hated it. Hated how his mind flashed straight back to those stupid dreams.
Well, he was used to getting burned.
Hisoka carefully pushed himself up on his ankle, used it as a launchpad for his healthy foot and just got himself up from the floor, into the thick of the smoke, following Tsuzuki's emotions. They kept shifting, over and over again – fear, resolve, worry, trepidation, and the hate that coursed within him whenever Muraki was involved.
And hesitation.
Hisoka grabbed onto the first thing he could; a broken piece of what had once been the ceiling of the church, a long stretch of wood with a jagged end, like a spear. It was heavy, and almost impossible to carry in one hand as he limped and struggled forward. He thought he could see something in front of him.
The smoke was denser now, thick, dark grey, almost black, and Hisoka felt his lungs constrict on the thick air. His eyes watered from the heat.
He thought he could see shapes, almost human, and he could certainly hear something above the crackles and hisses and roars of the flames, above even the sounds of the building creaking and cracking all around them. Was Tsuzuki yelling? Was it truly as anguished as it Felt?
The pain in Tsuzuki's chest was what finally got Hisoka moving again, faster than before, stumbling like a drunk on his stump of a leg, and the fire caught onto his clothes, his ankle, pulling at him. He almost fell when his bad leg hit a piece of burning debris, almost fell. He didn't even know what kept him upright.
Getting nearer, he could see a bit more, could see that the shapes were definitely human, definitely moving, and Tsuzuki was definitely in pain, his emotions searing Hisoka's chest. Tsuzuki's body was dodging, fading away from Muraki's attacks, though his feet were working and his hands were moving. A screech told Hisoka that Suzaku was watching, screaming something, but Hisoka couldn't turn away. He held out his good hand, saw the piece of wood beneath his fingers. Time. He was running out of time. And Tsuzuki kept dodging. Had he been hurt?
"You can't do it, can you?" Muraki cackled then, loud enough for Hisoka to hear him. He stumbled over a plate of plaster and suddenly saw colors; Tsuzuki's trenchcoat had taken damage, was ripped almost to his waist. Muraki's wasn't ripped, but a burn had ripped his pants leg and one of his arms.
Tsuzuki's arm was bleeding.
"Tsuzuki," Hisoka whispered, but the fire swallowed his call.
"You can't kill me! This is rich! Your kindness will kill that boy!"
Muraki lashed out at Tsuzuki, and the man pulled back again, his hand hesitating in the air. Trembling. His fingers were trembling.
Tsuzuki.
Hisoka wanted to curse, but he didn't want to waste the energy. Tsuzuki was afraid of killing, of hurting. Hisoka couldn't let Tsuzuki take on such a burden, knowing that it could break the man. Making Tsuzuki choose between himself and Muraki – it was the same thing as when Muraki had used that damn Mariko girl, making Tsuzuki choose between himself and her. Hisoka wouldn't let Tsuzuki be his Suzaku – he wouldn't let Tsuzuki take the burden.
He wasn't dumb enough to shout. He wasn't stupid enough to charge. He simply stumbled forward until he was certain his path was clear enough and then he slid in as Muraki turned to Tsuzuki, leaving his back to Hisoka. Tsuzuki's eyes flashed to him, widened, and Muraki turned back around. With a snarl, Muraki lifted his glowing hand and thrust for Hisoka.
"No!" Tsuzuki gasped, lunging forward, forgetting, in his haste to protect, his own desire not to harm.
Hisoka dodged under the attack and lifted his block of wood up, and with a sharp plunge dove the jagged end into Muraki's upper abdomen, right between two of his left ribs. Muraki doubled over, and the energy on his hand dissolved. With a gasp, Hisoka's hand slipped through his makeshift weapon and he fell forward. Muraki stumbled away, cursing, screaming.
Tsuzuki grabbed Hisoka before he fell headfirst into the flames. "Hisoka? Hisoka!" Tsuzuki made to check Hisoka – his hand skimmed quickly over Hisoka's head and chest – and then he stopped and choked in a gasp. "Oh, Enma – no, no..." He must have seen how much Hisoka had faded.
"You little bitch," Muraki hissed," capturing their attention once again. Hisoka struggled to turn his head, to see... "I won't let you win. I won't let this happen. Saki... Saki..." He lifted his head, and his hair fell from in front of his right eye, showing the wide, unnatural gleam of madness. "I will get my brother back!"
Suzaku screamed, swooping forward to envelop Muraki in her wingspan. Muraki pulled his hands forward and signed, one after another. "Stop him," Hisoka whispered, seeing just what Muraki planned, but Tsuzuki had already stood, recognizing the same. Suzaku screamed again.
But with a manic laugh, Muraki disappeared away. Suzaku's wings sparked against the air uselessly.
"Muraki!" Tsuzuki screamed, but it was too late. The man was gone.
And with him, Hisoka's afterlife.