Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei is not mine. :P

You're Not Alone

It was the first place they went.

Hisoka stared at his own grave with disinterest. It had seen a sort of neglect, even over the short time he'd been dead. The grass around it was high and wild, the stone a bit dusty. But there were fresh flowers laying there. And beside that, a small drop of blood.

"Hisoka."

It was Tsuzuki who called him from the melancholy creeping over him. He turned and stared into those violet eyes and nodded. Tsuzuki was worried.

"Kurosaki," Tatsumi ordered.

Hisoka steeled himself. He was stronger than he'd been before, when everything had blown up in his face because he'd been unable to sleep. No, he was stronger than that now. But how much stronger? He walked up to his own grave and gently brushed his hand against it-

---REGRET---

He winced and snatched his hand away. He stared at the gravestone in horror. It was her. It had been years since he'd last Felt her, but it was definitely her. There was no denying it. He Felt her, right here at this grave. She'd been here? But when – why?

"Hisoka? Hisoka, what's wrong?"

He turned to Tsuzuki's concerned face and glared at the grave once more. He had to know. He touched it again.

Self-loathing, hate, regret, pain, sorrowsadnessdespair – why? Why hadn't she tried harder? Now it was overandshewouldnevergetthechance-

"Hisoka!"

His hand was wrenched back, his connection disrupted. He Felt her slip away. He rounded on Tsuzuki – his would-be rescuer. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Tsuzuki seemed shocked by his outburst. Hisoka felt chagrin lace through his system; he shouldn't have yelled. But... "H-Hisoka..."

"What did you feel, Kurosaki?" Tatsumi was giving his a business-like glare, but Hisoka caught a slip of anger leak through that impenetrable mask Tatsumi constantly wore.

Hisoka turned back to his grave. "She'd been here."

"Serendipity Channery. She was here?"

Hisoka nodded. "Yeah. She... was the one who left flowers here."

Tsuzuki's face contorted a bit in sympathy. Tatsumi only nodded. "What was she doing here?"

Hisoka closed his eyes, shifting through the emotions, surprised he'd managed to handle them all. But maybe it was because he recognized them so easily, even after all this time. "She wanted to see..." He hesitated. "Me."

"Hisoka." Tsuzuki's voice was a mere whisper.

Hisoka ignored it and stepped forward, lightly touching the stone again-

Sadness; why hadn't she tried sooner? Harder? Because she hadn't pushed-

A shadow in the darkness, who in the world at this time of night-

Platinum-blond hair, such a strange eye – fitting that here, now, she would-

Painpainpain – agony – the scorching heat of death – sorry sorry sorry she couldn't have been there...

"Hisoka!"

He felt a pain snap in his head, felt his heart beat race and slow. He felt dizzy – he was falling. He caught himself on the grave-

sorry sorry sorry Hisoka was this how you felt?

Hands grabbed him and wrenched him back as he screamed.

"Hisoka – Hisoka, are you all right?"

"Kurosaki!"

He grabbed onto Tsuzuki instinctively, even as he kept his eyes clenched tightly shut. "She was kneeling here when he found her," he whispered. Tsuzuki's arms hesitated for a split second before wrapping themselves around his waist. He felt Tsuzuki lower the two of them to the ground. "He found her and he killed her." He couldn't believe he was trembling.

"Kurosaki, I'm sorry, but I must ask this. What did you see? Tell me everything."

"She was lying in front of the grave." He thought he heard Tsuzuki hissing something to Tatsumi. He wondered what it was and if he should be jealous. "She saw a shadow in the darkness – a shadow in the street lamps?" He couldn't quite tell. "When she turned around she saw a white robe and silver-like hair and strange eyes... it was definitely..."

"Muraki." Tsuzuki's arms tightened around him. Hisoka relaxed in the grip. He knew Tsuzuki's concern was the only reason the man held him so close; usually Tsuzuki – and everyone else – was careful to keep a safe physical distance from him. But Tsuzuki's concern, though strong, wasn't stifling. It was... welcoming.

Hisoka nodded into Tsuzuki's chest. "And a knife. Then-" he cried out softly, still Feeling it too strongly.

Poor Serendipity.

He heard Tsuzuki mutter something, then a hand ran through his hair. It was soothing – too soothing, when Tatsumi was right there.

Hisoka gently pushed Tsuzuki away and stood back up. "Sorry," he muttered, scowling. His hands twitched, feeling the chill of the grave. "She was... killed, and definitely by Muraki." He spat the name out like a curse.

"So he is definitely involved in this." Tatsumi's calm demeanor was infuriating. Hisoka barely managed not to glare at the man. "At least that's verified. Did you sense any of his emotions? Anything he might have felt? Thought?"

Hisoka hesitated, sifting through what he'd Felt. "I would have to check again." He looked at his grave like it was a pit viper waiting to strike.

"You shouldn't overexert yourself, Kurosaki," Tatsumi told him. "We'll leave for now and try again tomorrow."

Hisoka frowned at that, not liking the idea. The emotions here were still strong, but how long would they last? And how much would he be able to see beyond Serendipity's emotions? They'd been so strong...

"Come on, Hisoka. Let's get something to eat." Tsuzuki pointed behind him towards the road beyond the cemetery. He was grinning, but his eyes were assessing.

Hisoka gave an exasperated sigh and willed his hands not to shake. "Fine. But only one dessert for you."

Tsuzuki gave him a puppy-dog look. "Aww, Hisoka, no fair!" He turned to Tatsumi. "Tatsumi, please..."

Tatsumi smiled down at Tsuzuki. Hisoka felt his temper rise again. At least now he wasn't trembling from the aftereffects. "Sorry, Tsuzuki."

"Aw, Tatsumi, not you too," he whined.

Hisoka sighed. Tsuzuki was so kind to everyone – how would he ever know if the man felt anything for him?

Dinner, for Hisoka, was a disaster.

Oh, nothing truly awful occurred. There were no explosions, no accidents, no screams. There weren't even any arguments. No, everything was just...

Hisoka looked at Tsuzuki, whose dessert was eaten as slowly as possible so as to savor what little he'd been allowed. Tatsumi was calmly eating his own portion. Hisoka's had yet to be touched. He didn't like sweets, but he'd gotten it anyway in preparation. It didn't take long for Tsuzuki to finish and look at Hisoka's pleadingly. Feigning annoyance, he handed it over. Tsuzuki's overly excited face was worth it. Tatsumi's knowing look, however, wasn't.

And Hisoka could only sit back and think about how... how well Tsuzuki and Tatsumi got along. They practically knew one another's thoughts. Granted the two of them had been partners earlier, but still...

Hisoka blew out a breath. It was infuriating, watching the two laugh together. Tatsumi's light-hearted chuckles were reserved for Tsuzuki alone, after all. How could there not be something there?

Hisoka ground his teeth together.

"Thanks, Hisoka!"

Hisoka looked up to see Tsuzuki beaming at him, Hisoka's desert plate practically licked clean. He flushed and looked back down. "It's fine. I wasn't eating it."

"Oh, yeah. Because you don't like sweets. Why did you get it, then, Hisoka?"

Hisoka couldn't look directly into those oblivious violet eyes. "No reason." He saw that damn smile shimmering along the edges of Tatsumi's lips and scowled. "Well, if you're done, let's pay and go. I want to get some rest so I can return to that place."

Tsuzuki nodded happily. "Okay!"

All three stood, yet it was Tatsumi who paid the bill. Hisoka left the restaurant to wait outside, and Tsuzuki followed him. Hisoka was inordinately pleased to see that Tsuzuki had joined him and not Tatsumi.

"Hey, Hisoka."

Hisoka flashed a look into Tsuzuki's gaze, only to see curiosity and concern. Oh, shit.

"That girl – Serendipity Channery. Who was she?"

"I told you; she was just some girl I knew before I died."

"Hisoka, I know there's more to it than that."

He kicked a pebble and frowned. He didn't want to talk about this. "She came from America and spent some time in the high school. Heard some kids talk about me, came to see me. I learned a bit about emotions from her." He blushed slightly, remembering her words on... on a certain emotion. "She helped me a bit. Then she left to return to America and I never heard from her again." Even though she promised to return. But that was all ancient history.

Tsuzuki's eyes went all introspective for a bit. Hisoka wondered if Tsuzuki would be able to piece together the missing pieces of the puzzle. The man acted like a fool, but... "She taught you about emotions?"

Hisoka gave a small hum of agreement. "Yeah. She told me about a lot of them. I hadn't Felt many of them before, having lived in that house most of my life. I'd been amazed that she could pull them out the way she did, letting me get a good feel." He shrugged, gazing out into the sunset. It burned pink and purple and orange, but the East side was already turning black. "Then she left."

"Without warning?"

"No, I knew it was coming." I just hadn't known it would be permanent.

Tsuzuki seemed about to ask something more, but Tatsumi made a timely arrival. Hisoka turned to him, inwardly grateful for the reprieve. "Let's go to the hotel. The sooner we rest, the sooner we can return to the scene."

Hisoka found it interesting that he wasn't the only one unable to refer to his grave as... as his grave. It was a thought that kept him occupied enough to be the last one to fall asleep when they entered the hotel. Hisoka found it interesting – very interesting, and extraordinarily infuriating – that Tatsumi and Tsuzuki shared a room while Hisoka was given his own room. The privacy would be useful, but he was pissed that Tsuzuki was alone in a room with Tatsumi.

He let it go, thinking it providence. Tsuzuki would have stronger back-up than what Hisoka could provide – an almost physically painful thing for him to admit – and he would have a room to himself, where he would be safe to choke himself and rush up from the bed in the middle of the night as much as he wanted. Thank goodness for that, at least.

It was a nice room, as well – fairly spacious, with two beds and a nightstand and even a chair and small table by the tiny deck. He took the chance to stand on that deck, looking out. Then he turned and went to the bed. It was dark out, insanely late. But... he sighed. It didn't matter when he slept. He would inevitably see it. He might as well get it out of the way.

And with that, he decidedly went to bed.

"Tsuzuki, dammit! Wait!"

"Good-bye."

"Tsuzuki!"

Tsuzuki turned on him from within the flames, his eyes glaring hate. Hisoka knew it was a dream. He knew it. But still he had to take a step back. The Feel of Tsuzuki's fury swirled around him, thick enough to choke on. "Leave me the hell alone, Hisoka!"

Hisoka winced; that one hurt, especially with Tsuzuki not even attempting to hide his emotions. But, he reminded himself forcefully, it was a dream. Tsuzuki would never...

But he remembered that day outside the library when Tsuzuki's anger had run unchecked, and he couldn't help but think that this was so very similar to that time.

He saw Tsuzuki moving forward until he was almost lost in the smoke. "Tsuzuki! Stop!" He raced after the man. "Tsuzuki, stop! Why? Why are so set on doing this?!"

"Leave me the fuck alone, goddammit!"

Hisoka wasn't ready for it, wasn't prepared for Tsuzuki to turn back to him, slashing his hand through the air. Hisoka didn't even think to dodge. He flinched as a wind cut him on the cheek, his left arm. "Tsuzuki-!" He took the chance to run forward and was right in front of Tsuzuki, reaching for him-

He was blasted away before he could grab him. With a sharp cry, he slammed to the ground.

And Tsuzuki slipped away.

He screamed as he pushed himself onto all fours, pounded the floor. So close! So close to saving Tsuzuki – to potentially stopping this damn cycle – so close! He screamed again, Feeling Tsuzuki fade as always into the Serpent's fire, leaving him alone. He felt the tears fall hot to the floor. "Dammit!" Was there no way to stop this?

He curled into himself, unable to bear the loss of Tsuzuki again... and it would happen tomorrow, wouldn't it? And the night after that, and the night after that, an endless loop that Hisoka would be forced to endure every single night.

"No more," he begged, Feeling that life flicker. "No more, please!" He sobbed into the fire.

"Just a bit more, little doll."

That voice. Hisoka surged to his feet in fury. "Muraki!" he snarled. "Where are you hiding?!"

A laugh. That damned insidious laugh. "You will soon see," the man promised.

Hisoka searched around him, but the smoke was too thick, even if the man truly was in the area. "Mur-"

He fell to the ground in pain and grabbed his chest. "Ahh...!" Tsuzuki was dead. His eyes closed tightly without a conscious order. It hurt. Even though he knew... he knew he would wake up... it still...

"Tsuzuki..."

"Just a little more..." He heard the man snicker, felt his scars burning him. He swallowed back an agonized scream--

He snapped up in the bed, eyes wide. His breathing was labored, his shirt moist with sweat. He put a hand over his face and struggled to control his breathing.

What the hell had happened? What had that been about? Tsuzuki had turned cruel, furious. That wasn't Tsuzuki... Tsuzuki could get annoyed, and with Muraki, yes, he would become enraged, but that was just... that had nothing to do with...

Hisoka shoved away the sheets and comforter and stood. His feet were wobbly, his heart beating haphazardly against his ribcage. He had to grip the wall for support. He thanked every god he could think of that he had a room to himself.

Muraki. He truly was there, in his dreams, watching... waiting? For what?

"Just a bit more, little doll."

He shuddered, remembering... he chased the thoughts away with a shake of his head. No; he didn't want to remember that. But Muraki was a danger now, and a serious one at that.

What was he going to do? He turned and stared at the clock on the nightstand. "Fuck," he whispered. Four hours. Again.

His head drooped. He'd been able to handle Serendipity's emotions... for the most part. But... what about the others? He knew it was the nostalgia of the Feel that made it so simple to accept her emotions, just as it was getting easier and easier for him to Feel Tsuzuki.

But there were other victims, other girls who had felt the edge of Muraki's knife. What would he do then? He might very well be overwhelmed. And with Muraki nearby...

He stood then, stretched and moved to the bathroom. After flushing the toilet – hopefully Tsuzuki didn't hear that – he watched his hands and face in the sink and glared at his reflection – and froze. There, on his left cheek, sat a cut mark. Not deep enough to drip, it still showed up like a flashing neon sign. Carefully he touched it, as if to touch would make it disappear. But it was real. How?

He remembered Tsuzuki, in the dream, attacking him. He remembered, also, that his left arm had been hit.

Impossible. But still...

Hisoka looked at his arm, pulling up his sleeve-

There it was. A thin line marred the skin there, as if he'd been cut by a knife. He took off his shirt then in a small panic. Turning round, he saw a bruise on his back. From being thrown? It was only a yellow-brown for now, hardly more than a little stiff. But it traveled along his back for almost a foot across.

Shit.

Hisoka thought quickly. He could hide the cut on his arm and the bruise on his back, but what about the cut on his face? That was beyond obvious. And what could he say about it? Would it heal like his throat? Surely it would; he was a freaking Shinigami.

Hisoka looked again, trying to see whether it had started healing. He couldn't tell yet. Shit. Hopefully it would be gone by morning.

This was getting out of hand. What next? He left the bathroom and sat in one of the chairs. He had to do something about these dreams. Muraki was definitely involved in this somehow. But how? What had he done? What could he see? He'd found Hisoka during the mission with Amara. Had he seen his location because of the dreams? If that was the case, Hisoka could be leading Tsuzuki straight into Muraki's waiting hands.

That was unacceptable.

So what could he do? How could he stop it? How could he possibly...?

He stood. The best thing to do would be to get as much information as possible without getting Tsuzuki involved. As long as Tatsumi was with him, the chances of Tsuzuki being attacked were slim. Right?

He took a deep breath, then another, thinking it over. However, if he were caught, there was no doubt in his mind that Muraki would use him as bait again. More than anything, he didn't want to cause trouble for Tsuzuki.

The best thing... would be for him to be taken off the case.

But if he was taken off the case, then there would be no one who could search through the girls' last emotions to find clues on Muraki. He also wouldn't be able to find out what happened with Serendipity.

He started pacing. There was nothing for it; any move he made could send Tsuzuki into Muraki's grasp. No matter how it happened, it would be his fault. His hands shook at the very thought of it.

Right now, he was utterly useless to the team. He could Feel the emotions of the victims, but he was so weak from lack of rest it took nothing more than a little sadness and fear to make him pass out. Pathetic. He was probably the weakest Shinigami ever made. They were probably regretting their decision to let him join the ranks with Tsuzuki and Watari and Tatsumi. He had to get stronger.

But... how?

He stopped pacing suddenly, bent his knees, and kicked. He hadn't ever learned martial arts, though he'd been taught the basics by his kendo instructor. He remembered the night he'd seen Muraki again, how the man had easily grabbed his arm and twisted him around... dammit. He didn't have the skill to defeat Muraki. What could he do to help Tsuzuki? He would be able to do no more than stand there while Tsuzuki did all the work. The way he was now, he was no more than a hindrance.

He looked to the corner, where his shinai lay. With no more thought, he picked it up. Without leaving the room, he began his warm-ups.

He stopped at seven, afraid that Tatsumi would rise early. He placed his shinai back in its corner and went to the bathroom. An inspection had him sighing in relief – the cut had healed. He stripped and took a shower, letting the sweat be washed away. When he was done and dressed, he heard a knock at his door.

His brow rose at the sight of both Tatsumi and Tsuzuki on the other side of his door; Tsuzuki was yawning hugely behind his hand. "I'm surprised you managed to get him up so early," he commented.

Tatsumi smiled and sent a fond look over his shoulder to Tsuzuki. Hisoka steamed. "I allowed him a dessert if he got up."

Hisoka flicked a gaze at Tsuzuki. The anger was unreasonable and unstoppable. Dammit, but Hisoka wanted Tsuzuki to be closest to him, not Tatsumi. But... but Tatsumi knew how to help Tsuzuki, and Hisoka couldn't comfort worth anything.

Hisoka lifted his chin. "Then let's get going. The sooner we finish eating, the faster we can get to work."

Tsuzuki nodded while he yawned. "O-okaaay."

Despite himself, Hisoka smiled.