Preface: Here's an update! I think this chapter was tons of fun to write even if it was being difficult. Enjoy.


Green eyes surveyed the row upon row of pastries sitting on paper-covered trays and quaint signs depicting what each was called. The glass covering the display curved up and was nearly as tall as he was. The attendants were rushing around pulling out various sweets and packaging them for customers, among the cacophony of noise and people's emotions that swirled around them like eddies in a river.

A hand lightly tapped him on the shoulder, and he bent himself to stand looking up into concerned purple eyes. "What?"

"What would you like to try this time?" Tsuzuki leaned over a bit, and pointed at what looked to be a pale yellow cream pie, decorated with elegant lines of chocolate syrup and chocolate chunks artfully placed on it. "The Light Chocolate Cheesecake should be fine or maybe the Raspberry Tart if you're looking for something less rich?"

Hisoka cocked his head grinning. "Cheesecake sounds interesting."

Raising his hand to catch the attention of one of the attendants, Tsuzuki smiled and pointed at the slice of pie on the top shelf and raised two fingers. In less than a minute the small slices of cake were packed and the taller man paid for it, moving in front of Hisoka to disperse the crowd for him.

Outside and farther down the road was the river and Tsuzuki found a bench to sit down on as Hisoka turned his face up towards the sun as the light breeze barely clung at his clothes. "It feels good to be out." Hisoka turned to look at Tsuzuki who was already slowly eating his slice with a fork. "If you eat mine, I'll call Futsu out."

Tsuzuki choked a little as Hisoka sat down next to him fingering the bandages under his long sleeves. "Ahh, it shouldn't be much longer until he's healed…" A quick hand snatched the box from the older man and plucked the slice of cheesecake out with his hands and nibbled on it.

"Kurikaraaaaa, that was mine!"

Licking the crumbs off of his fingers, Hisoka's free right hand scooped up the untouched cake. "Your loss."

"Mm." Purple eyes watched him amused. "If Hisoka comes back with a stomach-ache, he'll be mad at you again.

Hisoka shrugged his shoulders. "I'll tell him you took advantage of his absence." Nearly imperceptively slitted eyes looked at him oddly and then distantly. "Ah. Good luck."

Tsuzuki scooted back a little holding his hands up defensively when a tenseness entered his partner's body language. "Ah-ahh I can explain."

The empath closed his eyes and sighed. "You don't have to." Then bright emerald eyes glared at him in the light of early evening, his hands clutching irritably at the empty paper box in his hands. "Let's go home."

"Alright." Tsuzuki stood up, taking the box from him and dropping it into the nearest trash can, and they disappeared.

------

Dusk was settling in when the two Tokyo Shinigami decided to enter the mansion in spirit form. Kyouya was wary of Shima, the head maid, seeing them and had waited until other duties had pulled her attention away from Tamaki. In the large study, the once-sun-kissed blonde hunched over his schoolwork, writing quickly.

Muraki tsked and shut the door behind him, making several hand-signs and a faint whispering of mantras. His taller, younger partner looked at him curiously.

Hearing the noise of the door closing, Tamaki looked up and his dull eyes stared at them disinterestedly. "Come to visit me again, Kyouya? You shouldn't have. I didn't have tea made for you." A smile pulled strangely on the muscles on his face, raising a wooden hand, that almost-vacant gaze sending unconscious tremors down Kyouya's spine. Kyouya was at a loss as to what to say to his obviously deranged friend.

Noticing that his best friend wasn't responding, Tamaki looked at Kazutaka, his smile lopsiding into a grin. "Oh, Kyle's here too. Of course he can join us, Kyouya. Don't assume I'm so cold, so please have a seat. Shima left me some fresh-cut veggies with dip."

The teen stepped forward, but a firm, small hand suddenly gripped his wrist, and he turned to the pale boy's stern look. "Don't be a fool, Ootori. He will pull you into the curse of that diary."

When Muraki released him, Kyouya's black eyes moved towards where his partner pointed to the plain-looking yellow-paged book in front of his best friend. "How do we stop him?"

"We don't if we value our souls and our paychecks," the dry tone replied evenly. "But don't listen to my pragmatism. If you feel the need, go be a hero." A flippant arm flapped towards Tamaki, who continued to wait with an expression that made farce of true contentment with his void-like gaze. "I will keep the barrier in place, until you return."

"You sound uncharacteristically confident of my abilities."

"Do not misunderstand me, Ootori. I will be able to tell if the diary has completely absorbed your soul and has destroyed it as an unwanted intruder. If you fail, I will complete the mission without you."

However, dark anger ran undercurrent to the boy's words. Kyouya knew it for what it was: a chilling warning. "I understand." Unfortunately, the black-haired teen had made up his mind when he had first embarked into this afterlife servitude. Tamaki would live to an old age, if he was protected from unnatural death.

Muraki leaned against the door silently, when Kyouya stepped forward and took a seat, smiling amicably at his old friend. If the fool wished to save the mortal life of his friend and waste all the effort he had spent on him, so be it. The silver-eyed child merely observed them under an indifferent gaze.

"You look tired, Tamaki." Kyouya commented sitting down across from him.

"I haven't slept well. Honey?" Kyouya raised a curious eyebrow as Tamaki paused and after a moment his face frowned absently. "Oh, what am I doing. You don't even like honey. Here."

An innocent-looking cup of tea was pushed towards him. He picked it up and smelled it lightly before drawing a slow sip of the flavorful drink.

"I've only had green tea, since you've left," he declared quietly, swirling his own honey-laden tea inattentively, "The smell of it brewing reminds me of you. It helps me write about our undying love."

Kyouya choked a little at the emotion-deficient admission. "Tamaki, you need to move o—" Kyouya began.

"I've written a wonderful story about us. Haruhi's become a surrogate for wonderful baby girl." His eyes, clouded like dark blue japer, were fixated on his tea. "I was even chosen as the successor, so though you were cast from your zaibatsu for our deviant love, I was able to—"

The dead Ootori's tongue felt it had lost a lot of moisture from the explanation that was rattled off like a financial report, but he remained calm and unmoved and so too did his shadows. "Tamaki, I'm dead."

His best friend looked up at him and his smile seemed more natural as his eyes filled with honest sadness. "I know." Tamaki sat his cup down inelegantly as he slowly traced a hand over the journal. "That's why I treasure this..." His finger stilled. "Any fantasy I desire can play out in here…"

"It's killing you."

"If I can die happy—" Tamaki's voice was fading away, and before Kyouya could react he was freefalling, faster and faster.

When he was aware of his surroundings again, he was in a quaint room filled with pink and ruffles, looking through slightly different framed glasses. A small hand grabbed onto his knee, and he looked down at an older children's book by the look of its illustrations, towards the familiar girl looking up at him in adoration.

"Daddy, Daddy, what happens next??" Chocolate-brown eyes peered up at him cheerfully, her long thick hair bobbing in pigtails.

Kyouya opened his mouth to speak, but Tamaki burst through the door, scooping the girl up and twirling her around. "Princess Hina, it's time for bed!" He kissed her lightly on her cheek and carried her regally to her overlarge four-poster bed, where shimmery pink satin curtains hung down.

Closing the book, Kyouya stood very disoriented with the memories of a death and an afterlife he had never experienced, watching as Tamaki happily babied a flustered ten year old who looked quite ready to throw her father out.

Tamaki's too young to be a father. The sudden thought admonished him, and for a moment Tamaki flickered into his younger self. Kyouya blinked and took off his glasses to inspect them for a moment. He knew something peculiar was happening but he couldn't put his finger on it. Placing them back on his face he saw Tamaki give the very European come-hither gesture to lead them out of the room into a long hallway, closing the door behind them.

"Dear, do you think it's time for us adults to go to bed?" A catty grin flittered on Tamaki's face, before it changed into concern at the frown on his husband's face. "Did something happen?"

Kyouya shook his head. "Our daughter wore me out." Sharp eyes glanced down at his rough hand, and briefly it slimmed and whitened, before it was normal again. He brought his other hand to touch it, a little bemused at himself. If he was hallucinating, then he knew he should be going to a hospital. But ever since he finished reading to his daugh— Hina's real parents live in Europe. His frown deepened. These calm, analytical thoughts certainly sounded like him, but they were puzzling and intrusive and more than a little unsettling.

"Dear?"

He looked up at the worried, questioning gaze and smiled. Suddenly black liquid-like forms sprung up around them, surrounding and coalescing unnaturally. Reflexively, Kyouya grabbed his husband, who squawked in protest at the sudden protective flare that sent him barreling into the taller man's chest. As soon as a frown replaced the smile on Kyouya's face, the upwelling of whatever the hell it was sunk back into shadows that gave birth to them. I must reveal hidden feelings to maintain control of the shadows.

Flushed and clinging to his chest, Tamaki looked up at Kyouya, who was smiling painfully. "What's wrong?"

Stepping a little to the side and leaving his arm partway wrapped around his shoulders, he gazed into his best friend's eyes, observing sadly as his face became younger as it lost the wrinkles of fatherhood. "Tamaki, I'm sorry, but this dream is over."

"What do you mean? Were you… have you been unfaithful to me?"

Confusion and anger were dangerous things to be staring down with a smile, but Kyouya did exactly that, leaning forward and cupping his face. "No, but none of this is real either."

Before Tamaki could respond, he pulled back and raised a hand, summoning his shadows. When they wrapped happily around his legs as they came and greeted him enthusiastically, the blonde gasped in horror. "Kyouya!! There's—"

"It's fine. Don't worry. This is all an elaborate illusion you've made to hide the truth."

With those cold words so cruelly said, the very fabric of the dimension rippled dangerously.

"No! Kyouya, stop!" A teenaged Tamaki screamed out as the walls around them buckled apart, as his shadows ripped everything apart. The white room that melted into existence under the very real-seeming illusion was glaringly bright, especially near the pools of shadow. Seeing one by his feet, Tamaki stumbled back some. "Mon ami, stay with me!!"

Noticing the abundant lack of doors, vents and windows, Kyouya called his shadows to form a portal to the real world as he ignored his best friend's desperate pleas.

Getting no response, Tamaki ran towards him, grabbing for him but sudden black tentacles wrapped around his legs holding him in place. "Don't leave me!!" He tore at them with his fingers, but they slipped through the alien restraints as if they didn't exist.

"Tamaki." A low aberrant howling had begun to blow through the room, building in volume as the room began to crumble "Save our 'daughter', Hina, by taking her into the shadow." Gesturing to the dark pit in the wall, he turned away and reluctantly shifted out of the room before he heard anymore idiotic pleading.

Looking around frantically, Tamaki's head whipped around as he scanned the disintegrating room for any way to follow him, when a small voice cried out. His heart wrenched at the sound. "Let go of me!!" he yelled at the tendrily things keeping him in place, and they reacted recoiling and then disappearing into the ground. He turned rushing towards the frightened girl with a bewildered look upon her face.

"Tamaki-senior? Wh-where are we?" She held herself, shivering.

Tamaki quickly knelt next to her. "Let's go away from here, Princess, to a place that's safer for you."

Hina nodded, extending arms around Tamaki's neck hugging. "I-I'm scared."

The howling had turned into keening and an invisible wind was pushing at them, away from their only exit. Tamaki cradled her tightly in his arms and sprinted against the wind, jumping head-first into the familiar cold of shadow.

---

As Muraki watched them pass stilted conversation, he sensed Kyouya's imminent dissolution before his form vanished in a brief flash of light, causing the teacup he had been holding to shatter on the ground. Not long after, Suoh slumped forward causing the dishes to slide off the table and crash on the floor. The journal was still open and pushed free of any limbs. Walking closer in a careful manner to better look, he saw that the body, despite its tenuous hold on a shred of what it was meant to house, was devoid of soul.

He contemplated sealing the journal for a few minutes before sparks flickered over the golden haze that had settled over the soul-sucking book. Muraki took several suspicious steps back. Suddenly two spirits flew out from a vortex of shadow.

Muraki adjusted his glasses and smirking. "Suoh, I suggest you go back to your body."

"My…" Suoh squeaked looking at himself, and clutching onto the girl tighter. "I'm a g-g-g-ghost?!?!" Then looked down at Hina, and recognition dawned. "Hey, if I'm holding you—" He gasped setting her down. "We're both ghosts!!"

"As amused as I am at the slow logic that your brain works, it pains me to say that you aren't ghosts, yet, and if you wish for that status to remain then I suggest very strongly you return to your bodies before I decide to carry you to Enma's judgement."

Shrieking, Tamaki lunged into his body, but he didn't wake as the body slumped further against the table.

Ignoring the ridiculous antics of a grossly naïve boy, Muraki bowed towards the girl-spirit left behind. "Ah, I believe we haven't been introduced, Lady Hina Kamishiro. My name is Kazutaka Muraki, a servant of Lord Enma."

Large brown, innocent eyes stared at him in awe, and curtsied. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"How adorable. However, I will have to deliver you to your body after my wayward partner arrives. Now if you would please stand over here. That's a good girl." He smiled and then stepped up next to Suoh. Raising both arms, he deliberately shoved him onto the floor out of direct harm's way. He then made several hand movements, quickly reciting several customized sutras to encase the volatile state of the diary.

He finished it as well as he could, and when he was checking his handiwork he heard the child greeting someone else. Muraki turned an inquisitive eye towards her and saw that the room was filling with spirits, all female, of various ages, some of them in century-old dress.

He supposed he couldn't be so angry at his reckless partner, now that bonuses would most certainly show on their paychecks.

However, it would be imprudent to show his attachment to his cunning, eloquent partner, and give him the wrong impression. He had barely known him a week, and yet they understood each other unlike any other partnership the middle-aged child Shinigami had experienced before. It wasn't love, but a symbiotic engagement that thrilled Muraki's predatory nature.

And it was that predatory nature that was currently wondering whether he should go ahead and seal the cursed artifact since its power was straining to overcome the localized barrier he had set upon it.

Especially since with his fond friend rescued, it was unlikely after coming so far that Ootori would die so easily.

TBC.