Wandering Aimlessly

.seven.

Alright! I've survived the torturous and meticulous process that is OriTari planning so I can continue this fiction. I stupidly started a Bleach one too and you're all going to be delighted to hear this: I don't even type every day. There might even be a whole four days where I don't even open my documents! Ha, there's really no reason either, since I never have any homework. YouTube and my lovely neighbor have temporarily consumed my life. I shall try harder –brief determined look- Eh. No guarantees.

DISCLAIMER

I don't own Descendants of Darkness/Yami no Matsuei. Darn.

EXCHANGE

Tatsumi: So I guess the chapter isn't for us, either?
Amagumo: Um… no.

Muraki: Ha!

Watari: But, Amou, me and Tatsumi have a bet with those two! -points at Tsuzuki and Muraki-

Tsuzuki: -grumpy- Nuh uh! You have a bet with him! -points accusingly at Muraki, who is in Tatsumi's face, grinning-

Amou: A bet?
Tatsumi: -Moving away from the freak- Ah, we bet him we'd get a lemon scene before he and Tsuzuki did.

Amou: …Money? Muraki doesn't want money…

Watari: It doesn't matter! But if we lose…

Amou: What?
Watari: We'll quit.

Muraki: Mr. Tatsumi tried. Believe me, I'll be sure to cause that plan to fail.

Amou: What did you bet!?
Watari + Tatsumi: …

Amou: You're souls!?
Watari + Tatsumi: -look confused at each other- … No…

Muraki: Something better.

Amou: -trying to pick out any implications- I dunno…

Tsuzuki: Yeah, what did you bet?

Amou: Oh, it's Tsuzuki's soul!
Muraki: -grin- Closer…

.Tsuzuki Asato.

We reached the restaurant quickly after my demand and I instantly found myself regretting it. I do think I'd just invited the Satanic pervert to get all hot. I wonder how many of the things that came out of my mouth I had actually thought about.

But that smile had really caught me off guard. It was magnificent. It was wonderful. It had made me light-headed, vulnerable, and confused. Quite frankly, it turned me into a stupid, giggly school girl with a foolish crush. A stupid crush on a haughty, no-good jock with nothing but good looks.

I huddled back into my seat and unbuckled, "Okay, let's go…" I put my hand on the door and the locked clicked. My heart skipped a beat and I whipped around to face him, "What're you doing? Unlock the door, Muraki." He didn't reply, so I glared at him, trying to be imposing.

He'd actually done it again. Another smile, eyes soft instead of lazy and antagonizing. He leaned in. Oh, no. I'd let my guard down. My hand slipped off of the door handle and I sighed, "No, Mura…" he pressed his lips against the corner of my mouth. I blushed. It was so soft. Feather-soft, only more insistent and pressing. I opened my mouth again, "Muraki, I…"

And he was gone.

No, no. I hadn't been dreaming. That was impossible. The same moment he disappeared he was opening my door. There was another time skip and I was at the front doors of the place. What was up? Had he carried me? I looked up at him. Still smiling. Another shot of confusion and we were seated.

"Are you alright?" Finally, he'd pulled me out of my far-off land and I shook my head. Meaning, 'No way…'.

He stood up abruptly, "What is it?"

I shook my head again, "I'm fine. I meant yes…"

He sat down again and smiled a little, but it was more of a smirk this time. Not enchanting, "I apologize if I startled you." He picked up his menu and skimmed it once, quickly. He set it down again, "Feel free to get anything you'd like. No restrictions."

I glanced down at my own menu and found, for once in my afterlife, I didn't want anything. I was completely comfortable just sitting and observing. Just taking in this experience in. As much of it as I could. Even if it was with Muraki. I just wasn't in the mood for the distraction of foodstuff.

"I'm not hungry," I said quietly, trying not to seem offensive as I observed a family eating at a booth not far off behind him. He twisted and looked at them for a brief second in confusing then returned his silver eye to me. A family. I hadn't seen anything like that even when I was alive. Everywhere I'd eaten in the past ninety years had been a bar or a café. Not once had I entered such a homely place. I liked it. Muraki, damn him, was doing a good job tonight.

Muraki said, "Please. Don't worry about prices or anything. We both know I have more than enough, and I think we also both know that this is what I want to spend it on. Anything you'd like. As much as you want."

But I didn't want anything! Okay, I didn't have to eat it. Besides, I would probably have a more normal date-like experience if I ate something. I looked at it, not exactly reading it, and told him something random when he asked. He grinned, not smiled, probably knowing another one of those wonderful smiles would send me to my far-off land again.

Our waiter showed up then, looking somewhat enamored. A man, probably late twenties, early thirties, with a wide smile and charming, straight, white teeth and longish, spiky, black hair. He had a good amount of silver rings pierced up the rim of his right ear, and seemed a bit entertained by Muraki and I's rapport. I bet he'd raced to get to our table. See? I wasn't completely oblivious.

Muraki eyed him warily as he asked me directly how we were and if we were ready to order. He sounded fallaciously pleasant as he interrupted and ordered for the both of us. The waiter, Yoji, his nametag said, disregarded Muraki's evident warning and smiled at me, "You sure you don't want anything else? The-," Muraki set his glass down to butt in, "We've finished our order, sir. Please go take care of it."

Yoji looked at him disbelievingly, unable to respond the way he probably wished, before he sauntered off, defeated. Muraki's satirical ways were beginning to really get on my nerves. If he wasn't so attractively impavid… and impetuous… I looked over at him, probably appearing much to appreciative. He smiled tiredly before returning to his business ensuring Yoji was gone.

I sighed. Men were so ridiculous sometimes. I- I mean, uh… some people were so ridiculous sometimes! Oh, God.

I shuddered in revulsion of myself, which, of course, alarmed Muraki, "What?" he asked again.

"I'm fine," I said, annoyed.

Muraki said, "Because I can certainly ask for another waiter if he bothers you."

"I'm fine," I said it firmly, and he seemed to get the hint that he needed to leave me alone. I did not like to think of how hurt that waiter would be when Muraki called him off. Or maybe he was that arrogant type of guy who pesters and purses the one who rejected him… Really, though, it didn't matter.

"You're acting strangely," Muraki observed.

"Did you expect me to act normally?" I snapped, finally realizing who I was really with. Come on, he knew how I felt about this. He wasn't that out of tune to me… or, he'd better not be.

"No, Mr. Tsuzuki. I didn't mean it like that. You seemed… ah…" he'd spoken too fast. His idiopathic decision to stand up and move toward me made me even grumpier and I shifted away from him, "Look, maybe we should go somewhere else…" he said, under his breath. He was so out of character at this moment, that I actually wished he would pull out a scalpel and try to behead me. Like before.

He didn't.

"This is fine," I said, "Sit down."

He did, looking shot down, "Yes, it is nice here, but if we'd worn suits we would at least appear to be on business. This is much more conspicuous…" Oh my God. Was he being shy? Embarrassed? This only managed to enrage me further and I was suddenly imbued to immure myself in his car and stay in there to fume alone instead of stay here to further suffer this total hokum.

"Why does it matter?" I growled, "Are you uncomfortable?!" I was being impetuous and impulsive. Much as I always was when I was with Muraki, "Look, let me ask my questions and we can leave, okay!?" I was disgusted, and instead of looking hurt, Muraki was confused, "I thought maybe you were uncomfortable because of how casual this is. If you're alright then I am extremely delighted…" he said in an attempt to get things back to the way they were before.

"Um, well…" I didn't really have any way to reply so I moved on, "What were you going to wish for when you found Mikosei?"

"I was going to wish that Saki was alive and in my possession."

"Why?"

"So I could kill him."

"Why?"

"I wanted revenge."

"… Why?"

"…" He looked at me, actually appearing a bit pained, "I think I said before that I can't…"

I said, "No. You have to tell me. I went on this date with you so you'd answer my questions. I expect you to follow through."

"He killed my mother. And…" he paused, "He killed my mother."

"There's something else," I observed, aggravated, "Well, who cares?" He stiffened, "Wasn't she abusive?"

He almost stood up again, his expression clearly indignant, "What makes you say that?"

Sensitive subject, eh? "Well, you turned out like this, so I just assumed you didn't have the best upbringing," I spoke slower and slower as his expression got more and more livid.

"I had a wonderful mother, which is why I was so pissed," WOAH, "when he killed her."

Woah, woah, woah! He just used profanity! Sensitive subject! "And your father?" I continued cautiously. Why did I suddenly feel like an extremely impertinent therapist?

"He was an asshole." His gaze was hard, angry. It… scared me. I'd seen him like this before, of course, but it had never been directed towards me like this. I knew he wasn't angry with me, but he was looking at me with that livid eye, and I saw a silvery-blue glint beneath his platinum blonde hair. I shivered.

He must've noticed my disdain, for I saw his gaze soften as I stared back into his eye in fright, "Mr. Tsuzuki, no. No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I got- I wasn't thinking."

I nodded, "Ano… do you know where Mikosei disappeared to?"

He was visibly disappointed that we had reengaged formalities, "I don't. He is nomadic. I know places that he is most likely to appear, however."

"Where?" I would do this for Watari. This was for Watari. And my eyes. Why was I a mutant? I was with Muraki for information. I chanted this impassive mantra over and over again, the happy families and my lust for Muraki became dulled. I felt mindless, and that was exactly how I was supposed to feel right now.

"It's a ritual," he said insipidly, "I could take you all there next full moon."

"When's that?"

He paused for a second, thinking, "Two days." I was more than disturbed to find that he knew this.

Muraki sighed, "Is Mr. Tatsumi coming?"

I looked at him, considering, "Yes. Him and Hira. Oh, and Watari!" I saw how he smiled on that last one.

"Watari's coming?" He looked pleasantly surprised, "I had hoped to see him soon…"

My God, it sounded like they were high school friends or something! I wasn't necessarily disgusted, but I was completely surprised to hear this, "Have you contacted each other?"

"I asked him some things about tonight, yes," Muraki smiled and I shook my head wildly, unable to allow myself to lose my senses and be forced back I into my admiration of him.

"Ano, ano! More about it!" I said desperately.

He laughed a little, "You want more?"

I felt my ears and cheeks go hot in a deep blush. With my eyes closed that sounded so… I shuddered and felt a lump in my throat when I tried to swallow, "Explain the ritual!"

Still amused with my flustered state, he answered, "Basic magic, Mr. Tsuzuki. You have to request your relocation to the Gods, and you'll be taken to a temple. Actually, it's very dangerous. It might be a better idea to leave Hin- excuse me- Hira behind." He declared his scholium weakly, trying not to laugh.

A very loud, "PFFT!" escaped me and I broke out in laughter. Hin? Honestly? Was he serious? Hin!? That was perfect for office gossip! Wait, no it wasn't… this was Muraki… humbled by that realization I wiped the tears of laughter out of my wretched, hated eyes and looked up at him. Instead of embarrassed or grumpy… he was smiling again. A big smile. I looked at him in despair, begging him with my puppy expression to stop it.

He nudged my foot with his own, and I looked down at the table to try and see what he was doing, he leaned forward quickly and locked his lips to mine in one fluid movement.

A brief pang of dizziness swept over my senses and I stared at him in shock. I looked around wildly for anyone watching before returning my gaze to him. He chuckled, "Asato…"

He used my first name? Man, who was the last person to have done that? Chief Konoe? Terazuma, maybe. That was years ago. Maybe... twenty-seven years

ago. When he and I had first met.

"Kazutaka…?" Ha! I used his first name! Though I was so afraid of doing so, it probably didn't sound very sincere at all. My hands gripped the side of the table and suddenly I realized exactly who it had been that had used my first name last.

Tatsumi.

Seiichirou.

A lump rose in my throat and I choked. Tatsumi! Hisoka, Watari! I remembered what I was doing. What was really going on. I realized why I had really accepted this date. Muraki had kissed my twice now! Twice! Tears welled up in my hated, purple orbs, and guilt and despair clutched me so fiercely that I couldn't breathe. My nails dug fiercely into the table, my head bent. I stared at my silverware, trying dreadfully, vainly to compose myself and remain impavid.

"Mr. Tsuzuki?!" he stood up again.

"No!" I bellowed, "Stay away!" My every lith and limb ached in despair and rebuttal. I was acting completely impetuous, completely wanton, nails digging deep into the sabulous material that the table was made of, tears streaming down my face, breath hitching as I sobbed and hiccupped like a stupid girl. It was then that the infernal, ever imposturous Yoji reappeared, "What did you do!?" he yelped, abandoning his former obligations to remain formal.

Muraki shoved him roughly and grasped my upper arm. I wanted very much to remove myself from existence. I didn't have time to think about it, and recall that how impossible that was for me. I picked up my steak knife, stared at it for a good half a second, then plunged it into my abdomen without producing a single sound. I couldn't help but make a very unpleasant expression as I did so, and Muraki was so shocked that he merely stood for a good number of seconds. He picked me up, ignoring Yoji's, "Call 911! Someone- anyone a doctor!?" How'd he like me now?

I was too absorbed in my self hatred to escape Muraki, and I allowed him to haul me away quickly. The stares we were receiving, however, were something that still captured my attention. Every shocked stare I saw directed at us entered me like torrid, angry knives. My shinigami longevity was sure to be shortened considerably if not ended as they became less and less accepting of me, applying torsion to their searing blades and shoving me further away. Their disapproval of me added to my own was insufferable. A outrageous sob tore from my throat and I felt a rush of adrenaline along with a desperate, claustrophobic sensation screaming at me to 'get out!'.

After what seemed to be years of finding our way out of that wretched milieu, we were free, out in clear, frigid winter air. Muraki set me on my feet in front of him, shaking me viciously, "What!? Tsuzuki, what on earth!?" Of course, these actions and his yelling only upset me further and I tried to nest my face in my shoulder so I wouldn't have to look at him and he wouldn't have to look at me, "N-no…" I choked. My injury was healed, of course, but I still clutched the knife, and he eyed it warily.

This arrangement wasn't even right in the first place. Him, rich and seigniorial in every sense of the word. Me, penniless and downright secular. We didn't go together.

"No? I deserve an explanation!" he was right.

He really was distressed, I could tell. He was hurting, misunderstanding completely what was going through my mind. He saw something behind me, in the direction of the homely restaurant, and took my upper arm again, "We need to go somewhere else, Tsuzuki," He said, voice soft again.

I moved to his car in slow, torpid actions and loaded my squalid self into his chic, silver vehicle. He jammed the keys into the ignition and slammed into reverse. The silence in which the car had covered land before was gone with our calm. Now it squealed and shrieked as the rubber caused vicious friction against the pavement. The acceleration jerked me out of my soporose state and in seconds we were flying down the road, "Are you alright?" he surmised, "You've healed, right?" He didn't sound very concern. He was completely monotone.

"I'm sorry."

"I know. Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I don't really… okay. I was just- It wasn't- you didn't do anything wrong. I was thinking… It wasn't your fault," that's what I settled with and he seemed alright with it. He appeared to realize this is all he was getting for now.

.Muraki Kazutaka.

I was so pissed off that my head hurt. I grasped the wheel so tightly that the already paper-white skin of my knuckles became even more colorless.

I wasn't really angry at him. I suppose I was angry with myself. I hadn't been able to succeed tonight, and it frustrated me. It was enough to bring tears in my eyes. It was absolutely unbearable. I had just given him one of the worst nights of his afterlife and I hated myself for it.

I knew what his problem was. The level of intimacy rose and reminded him of where he was and what he was doing. Guilt. Again. And why? Because I'd lost control of myself and kissed him. That one action had sent him off the deep end and now we probably wouldn't be able to go there again. At least not with Yoji still there. Ah, not that I wanted to go back. I glanced at him where he sat beside me, realizing this was definitely not time to be livid, "Mr. Tsuzuki, I'm sorry. I rushed things. Please, let's just-," he looked at me and simpered pathetically.

"It was me, Muraki. It was me. I rushed things," that smile was devastating.

I tried vainly to decipher his logic before I asked him about it.

"I shouldn't have encouraged you!" he said, shaking his head and smiling sadly to himself as though he was an old man reflecting on a inane slip-up he made in his formative years. This did bring tears to my eyes. Shocked, I blinked them away hurriedly. Having successfully fought them off, I locked my gaze on the road to prevent further emotion, "You didn't encourage me," I stated matter-of-factly, "I lost control of my better judgment and I apologize for it."

He looked at me again. I could see it in my peripheral, "Okay." He agreed meekly, "Are you going to take me home?"

I didn't actually know. I hadn't really been planning on it, but it was probably the better idea. It was most certainly where he wanted to be, but I-

"Because I want to go home with you."

A lump in my throat, a knot in my stomach. I glanced at him briefly, trying to discern whether or not he was messing with me, but I didn't catch his expression, "Please? I know you're probably not wanting to deal with me, but I need something more to tell Watari when I see him tomorrow, and Tatsumi won't be pleased if the only information I got was about the ritual."

I calmed down as I heard this. He just wanted to give his friends some information. Tatsumi didn't like this whole date idea in the first place, and he really wanted to enamor Watari for some reason or other. I thought about it for a second and realized he really would be nice to please. I can just imagine how grateful he'd be. How happy. Plus, he was easier to please… possible to please.

I'm not saying that Tsuzuki was stuck up and rude, but Watari's happiness appeared much more attainable. Whatever I had planned for Tsuzuki always ended in failure. It was always crash. And. Burn.

Mr. Tatsumi had told me that he believed I 'understood' Tsuzuki more than they did. I was really beginning to doubt that. Looking at it positively, I could assume that I did understand him, I just didn't know what he liked or how to make him happy. Those were different right? You can understand algebra but stink at it right? Well, no. Bad comparison.

And the more thorough I got with this the more it was pointed out to me: if I hadn't kissed him just then, our night would have been sublime and uplifting.

Agh. Self-loathing was so easy to come by. I would just have to settle with being minutely disappointed in myself. If I hated myself for this, I would remember other, worse things I'd done. I think you know… raping… cursing… murdering… torturing. Things along those lines.

"You are more than welcome to come back with me," I answered after what he must've thought a very long contemplation.

"Thanks," I didn't have to look. I could feel him smile.

"So you're going to be alright then, Mr. Tsuzuki?" I wasn't too concerned, but just in case…

"Mr. Muraki, please don't worry like that," He laughed.

My stomach turned and I looked at him with an expression of total bewilderment scrawled across my face. The car stalled as I eased up on the gas pedal unintentionally. He was being so eerie. Uncanny. Bizarre. Mr. Muraki? He must be… distancing himself from any type of intimacy with me. Disgruntled, I turned back to the road and began driving steadily again.

That laugh… was petrifying. It was so frightening, it had chilled me straight to the bone. "Mr. Tsuzuki," I said awkwardly, "You're not okay."

"What do you mean?" his voice was pitchy, immature.

Like he was drunk.

"I think I should take you home…" I was really worrying now, but I didn't know what I should do. Should I leave him alone? He'd probably be rather… self destructive…

"No! I wanna go home with you! I don't wanna be alone! Take me with you, Unmei Gin!" he whined. Did he just call me Gin? I was in such a panic I didn't really know what he said.

"I'm taking you to Mr. Tatsumi's…" I announced my decision and he complained obnoxiously. I was about to retch, "Cut it out! Nozomi Murasaki!" Nozomi? Murasaki? "Mr. Tsuzuki!" I corrected. I risked another glance in his direction. He smiled insanely at the road ahead of us.

So, in an act of desperacy, I stopped the car and kissed him again. This time, however, there was a sense of urgency, since I was so terrified of him right now. He was unpredictable, and though not rash, I had no idea what was going on in his mind.

His response to the kiss was the same as usual. Unsure and timid, before gaining confidence, accepting, returning, than pulling away, "Cut it out!" I was so relieved I could cry.

I was awfully emotional tonight.

"Mr. Tsuzuki, what were you doing!? That was-," so scary! I couldn't finish. It was too uncharacteristic of me to be like this.

"Take me to Tatsumi's! You can tell me about Mikosei on the way there," he explained how to get there, arms crossed grumpily, legs too. Left over right. He was slumped in his seat, completely closing himself from me.

I hadn't been able to understand him. I'm sure that's why I'd been so afraid. The Tsuzuki I knew, understood, and loved had just disappeared, and it scared me. I think… he was trying to do that thing again. He was going to go to that place in his mind where he died so many years ago. Where he'd previously immured himself for those eight years.

"I want to talk to Watari for a while…" I announced, "Do you think I'll be allowed in for a few minutes?" I wanted him to grant me entry, but that probably wasn't going to happen.

"Is he still over there?" he seemed to be thinking more to himself when he said this, "If he wants to talk to you, too," he spoke to me now, "then probably."

I could always call him. I wanted to ask him about that scary Tsuzuki I'd just met.

-END CHAPTER SEVEN-

Hmm… well, it wasn't completely pointless. I bet you're all mad since it wasn't all hot and stuffs! Ha-ha! In due time! That strange drunk-ish Tsuzuki has a purpose, really! You'll see later! It's not as weird as you might think, either. Well, maybe it is. So, I'm working on four multi-chaptered fictions right now… two for Bleach and two for Yami no Matsuei. The OriTari for NaPap, and two Ichigo/Uryuu fictions. Whee! Go read! Guess-y what-y!! Next chapter is all Watari/Tatsumi-ness! It'll be going back in time a bit, you know, to the big confession, then time skipping some, probably. I'll try not to be too confusing, 'kay?

QUESTION TO THE READERS
None. I just want to see if anyone's still with me.

Please give your input through a review!

EXCHANGE

Muraki: I was going to cry, like, three times. And I was scared. Ouch. My dignity.

Amagumo: You lubb Tsuzuki and you were scared for him!

Tsuzuki: Drunk-ish me scared me, too!

Watari: Me too! He reminded me of an old man who's a rapist and murders people!
Muraki: Hey! I am nothing like that! All giggly and… ick.

Tsuzuki: Hey! I am not 'ick'!

Tatsumi: I guess that was a little stereotypical. Just a little.

Amou: He didn't even say your name, Muraki. You shouldn't put yourself under that category. Its unbecoming and unattractive!
Muraki: I dunno… I've got lots of fans.

Amou: Yeaaaaahhh. Girls really go for the serial killers and rapists nowadays…

Watari: You're going to influence some people in a bad way. –looks over at Tsuzuki, who's reading a girly magazine-

Amou: -blank expression-

Tatsumi: It's his new compromise. He thinks if he becomes desirable to women he can escape Muraki. I don't really understand it.

Muraki: Me neither. He'll never escape me! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!
Amou: What charming Satanic laughter! –mock attraction-

Tatsumi: A-Ano… this is just…. No. Serial killers, bad!

Watari: Rapists, bad!