Updated 15/9/04 with minor changes.

Thanks to Ariss Tenoh and Becky for beta-ing

xxxxx

It didn't take long for Tsuzuki's misdeeds to reach the Shoukanka. The Gushoshin demanded an emergency meeting with Chief Konoe and Tatsumi that afternoon. After much begging on Tsuzuki's part, Hisoka grudgingly agreed to attend for moral support. They all sat in the conference room around the rectangular table: Hisoka sitting next to Tsuzuki, and the Gushoshin staring them down the other side. Chief Konoe and Tatsumi occupied neutral positions adjacent to the two parties.

"Tsuzuki-san must be permanently blacklisted from the library!" the elder Gushoshin squawked at him. "He's a walking menace to book lovers everywhere!"

"That's untrue! Some of my best friends are book lovers. Hisoka?" Tsuzuki grabbed Hisoka in a hug and ruffled his hair. "I'm a good friend, aren't I?"

Hisoka blushed bright red and shoved him away. "I'm not getting involved in this, idiot!"

Tsuzuki almost fell from his chair, but grabbed the table in the nick of time to right himself. "See? See? Only good friends would treat each other in such a familiar way."

"Enough of your antics, Tsuzuki." Chief Konoe rolled his eyes and sighed. "Gushoshin, please explain the events that took place in the library this morning."

The younger Gushoshin puffed out his chest and cleared his throat in dramatic fashion. "As part of my duties as librarian, I was busy returning books to their shelves. I went past Tsuzuki-san a few times, and I saw he was fast sleep." He cast Tsuzuki an accusing look. "As usual."

"What do you mean, 'as usual'? I do research in the library like everyone else. I was only napping because I didn't get any slee--" Tsuzuki stopped, suddenly remembering Hisoka's presence in the room, "--coffee! I didn't get enough coffee! Anyway, the Gushoshin electrocuted me!"

"The library's security system worked this morning as planned," the elder Gushoshin told them. "Thank you, Tatsumi-san, for the funding."

"You're welcome. It was a prudent investment to avoid future budgetary blowouts."

"Tatsumi!" Tsuzuki was almost crying at the betrayal. "You agreed to finance it?"

"Never mind, Tsuzuki-san." Tatsumi patted his shoulder in consolation. "It was for the sake of the accounts."

The door swung open as Watari strode in, blond hair streaming behind him, and 003 perched on his shoulder. "And I invented it! Isn't it brilliant? I call it the short-range anti-shinigami ground defence system!"

Tsuzuki slumped face down on the desk. Nearly everyone was against him. He didn't have a hope of defending himself now.

Watari slapped Tsuzuki on the back. "So, whatcha think of it?"

"It works," Tsuzuki muttered. "Watari, how could you?"

Watari pulled up a seat next to Tsuzuki. "It was a professional and engineering challenge. You mustn't take it personally. The system is targeted against Terazuma too."

"But it's still not enough! Tsuzuki still attacked me inside the library!" The victimised Gushoshin jumped up and down for emphasis.

Tsuzuki lifted his head up, his expression forlorn. "I didn't mean to do it. I was asleep at the time!"

"Asleep?" Konoe queried. "You mean you were sleep walking?"

"He wasn't just walking! He was attacking me!"

Tatsumi raised one sceptical eyebrow. "Sleep attacking?"

"Ah-hah! There is a scientific name for this syndrome!" Watari cried, almost jumping out of his chair in excitement. "Somnambulic epilepsy!"

Everyone stared blankly at him.

Tatsumi began drumming his fingers on the desk. "Can you translate this term for the rest of us?"

"It's a condition in which a subject exhibits normal but involuntary physical behaviour of which he has no subsequent recollection, usually occurring after an epileptic fit. A tricky problem for modern medicine to solve, but I have a new invention that provides the perfect solution--"

"But I don't have epilepsy," Tsuzuki muttered, more to himself than anyone else. It was futile to catch Watari's attention while he was raving about a new invention.

"--I call it the infra-red motion-sensitive bed restraints." Watari seized a notepad, and began scribbling vigorously. "The slightest movement above the bed is detected by the array of infra red beams projected over the mattress. The pressure sensitive mattress locates the limb position of the sleeping subject, triggering the array of steel bars that will clamp the wrists and ankles, rendering him completely immobile within seconds!" He thrust the completed sketch at everyone. It consisted of a stick figure with frazzled hair strapped to a mattress, all four limbs held down by heavy restraints.

Hisoka eyed it doubtfully. "Is this really necessary?"

"Do you have an estimate of the total cost of materials and production?" Tatsumi asked.

The elder Gushoshin peered closely at the drawing. "Can this device be adapted for a chair?"

Chief Konoe frowned. "There's nothing original about this invention, Watari. I've seen something similar in Hakushaku-sama's bedroom."

Watari blushed bright red, then looked at him with narrowed eyes. "And what were you doing in Hakushaku-sama's bedroom, hmm?"

Tsuzuki clenched his hands into fists beneath the table. The weeks of putting up a cheerful front had taken their toll. Shielding his emotions required energy reserves he no longer possessed.

How dare they all talk about him as if he didn't exist? Didn't he even have a say in whether he wanted to be strapped up like a trussed turkey, ready for the roasting?

If Muraki were here, he'd be laughing. Tsuzuki could almost hear the mocking chuckle inside his head.

Oh Tsuzuki-san, how did he know? Did you tell him about the things we get up to together? This is absolutely perfect for us. My only concern is that it will diminish the excitement of the chase. I know how you like to run...before you let me catch you.

He couldn't take it any longer.

"Enough! Leave me alone, dammit!"

The voice fell silent. So did everyone else in the meeting room.

Tsuzuki blinked. He was standing up, arms braced against the table, his chair lying backwards on the floor. Before him, the assembled Shoukanka staff stared at him in bewildered shock. He cleared his throat, and bowed stiffly before them. "Forgive me, everyone. I...I have some urgent business to attend to."

"Tsuzuki?" It was Hisoka's voice, soft with concern. "What is it?"

Tsuzuki forced a semblance of a smile to his lips. "Please be my representative while I'm absent. I trust you to make decisions on my behalf."

Without a backward glance, he stepped over his chair and strode from the room.

xxxxx

A few hours later, Tatsumi found him sitting beneath the sakura trees that surrounded the reflection pool outside the main EnmaCho building, elbows propped on a table. Tsuzuki was dressed in his long trenchcoat and vest, dark glasses shielding his eyes from the orange glow of the afternoon sun: a gloomy figure in black amidst the pale pink sakura petals swirling around him. A gentle breeze rustled the branches overhead, causing more of the delicate blossoms to fall to the ground. For a moment, he lifted his head to watch them, before returning to the silent contemplation of the table in front of him.

Tatsumi took a seat at the same table. To his surprise, he saw that Tsuzuki held a fuda in one hand.

Tsuzuki didn't look up. "So what's the verdict? Do you think Watari's latest invention is another prudent investment for the Shoukanka?"

"Everyone is worried about you. I came to see if you were all right."

Tsuzuki's hand tightened on the paper charm. "I don't want them to worry. I can look after myself." He took a deep breath in, then threw the fuda with startling violence. It transformed into a growling wolf spirit that lunged into the pool with a loud splash.

Tatsumi raised his brows. This was the shinigami version of skimming stones. "What are you doing?"

Tsuzuki withdrew another fuda from his breast pocket. "Practising." He threw it in the same direction as the first. A white swift flew into the pool so fast it only raised a few ripples on the water's surface.

Tatsumi snorted. He was not a patient man by nature, and waiting for answers was trying what little of the virtue he still possessed. He grabbed Tsuzuki's hand before he could pull out another fuda. "I am here to help you, whether you believe it or not. But I can't help if I don't know what's wrong!"

He felt Tsuzuki's hand twitch, then become still.

"I don't want to be a burden to the Shoukanka."

"Who said you were?"

Tsuzuki looked at him directly for the first time. Even from behind dark glasses, Tatsumi couldn't miss the unspoken accusation.

"The Shoukanka has incurred significant expenses arising from damage to our infrastructure," Tatsumi acknowledged. "But you are not solely to blame."

A wry smile touched Tsuzuki's lips. "But my powers were directly responsible for the destruction." He lowered his gaze to their hands, his expression serious again. "I was employed by DaiOh-sama as a Shinigami because of my powers. But they've only caused trouble and pain for others, haven't they?"

"That's untrue. Have you forgotten the good deeds you have performed? There are always evil forces interfering with the land of the living, manipulating human lives for their own purposes. Strong magic--even harnessed to provide brutal force--is often the only way to dispel their influence. You have no reason to be ashamed of the power you wield. You should regard it as the source of your strength."

"Strength? Or do you mean weakness?" Tsuzuki withdrew from Tatsumi's touch, and used the free hand to cradle his forehead. "Tatsumi, you of all people know how erratic my power can be. It can tear a rampaging demon to smithereens or blow up all of EnmaCho. Again." The last word was spoken with heavy irony. "Come to think of it, the Shoukanka has every reason to be terrified of me and my powers. Don't waste your time worrying about my welfare."

"Concern cannot be turned on and off like a tap! We worry because we care. To dismiss our feelings as if they don't matter is an act of selfishness unworthy of you."

Tsuzuki's shoulders slumped as if he'd been physically struck. "You're right. I'm sorry." The words came easily to his lips. After all, he'd spent his entire existence repeating those words.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for taking your life away. I'm sorry for failing to protect your life. I'm sorry for forgetting to buy kasutera in Nagasaki. I'm sorry for overdrawing my expenses. I'm sorry for failing this assignment. I'm sorry for letting loose the shikigami and setting EnmaCho on fire while I was having a nervous breakdown...

"I'm sorry, too," Tatsumi said. "I didn't mean to speak so harshly."

Tsuzuki watched as sakura petals fell on the table. "Do you see how fragile these flowers are? A brief gust of wind, and they all fall down. I crushed many of them underfoot when I came to sit out here." He picked one up and crushed it in his fist. When he opened his fingers, it was crumpled beyond recognition. "See? Like everything I touch, it falls to pieces."

"Please, Tsuzuki. Don't torture yourself like this. Don't dwell in the past."

Tsuzuki clenched his hand into a fist again. "As long as I work here, I will always be in danger of hurting someone."

"It doesn't make us care any less, Tsuzuki. We know you do your best--"

Tsuzuki pulled off his glasses, suddenly impatient. "But don't you get it? My best isn't good enough! Your accounts are in the red because of me. The Gushoshin want to banish me for eternity--"

"Three hundred years. We've persuaded them to accept a reduced sentence."

"--and then there's Hisoka. As much as he is attached to me, he doesn't realise how vulnerable he is to my feelings. If I so much as even think about a fierce emotion in his presence, his brain short-circuits!" Tsuzuki looked away, but not before Tatsumi glimpsed the pain in his eyes. "My emotional shielding is limited at best. I don't know how long I can confine myself from his empathic powers."

"Why didn't you come to me? You know I am here for you." Tatsumi reached up to touch his cheek. "Physical objects are not the only things that can be sheltered in shadows."

"I know." Tsuzuki closed his eyes, drawn in spite of himself. He could feel the pull of Tatsumi's shadow magic, whispering promises of shelter and security. The shadows dimmed traumatic memories, obscured the horror of nightmares, blunted the edges of pain. This was the comfort Tatsumi had offered him before when they were partners, and again in Kyoto: a temporary peace from the voices of self-recrimination.

"Come closer." Tatsumi leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. He gently turned Tsuzuki's face towards him. "Let me help you. Let my power be your power."

Tsuzuki could feel the shadows lapping at the edges of his consciousness. Already he could feel his frustration and anger receding. What had he and Tatsumi been arguing about? It seemed so unimportant now. It was so much easier to forget. Tatsumi would take care of everything. Painful nightmares and memories wrapped in shadows no longer had the power to wound.

It was the perfect anaesthetic for his conscience. Until it wore off again...or the nightmares returned.

He opened his eyes, and gently pried Tatsumi's fingers from his face. "Thank you for the offer, Tatsumi."

"Tsuzuki?" Tatsumi blinked, surprised. "Don't you want...?"

He clasped Tatsumi's hands, a small gesture to ease the rejection. "Light will always illuminate darkness. This time there is no escape."

"What...what are you talking about?"

"Muraki." Tsuzuki lowered his voice, but there was no hiding the shame and loathing infused in the three syllables.

"Muraki? There hasn't been a case involving him for months. We've had no reports--"

"He knows he no longer has to kill to catch my attention." Tsuzuki let go and slumped back in his chair. "I've been having dreams...visions of him."

"Kyoto was a particularly difficult case. It's inevitable that you will have nightmares." Tatsumi reached out to touch him again. "If you'd just let me help, I can ease the memories for you."

"But this is different. It's as if he's communicating with me. He...he tells me new information--"

"Or maybe that's what you'd like to believe." Tatsumi's voice was flat as he withdrew his hands. His expression, once warm, was now a blank mask.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You still feel guilt over what happened in Kyoto. Maybe in making up these dreams of him, you can salve your conscience by imagining he is still alive and well." His blue eyes, sharp and clear, bored into Tsuzuki's. "But surely you must see the absurdity of it! How is he, a human, able to manipulate your dreams? And why? Why would he suddenly want to communicate with you?"

Tsuzuki lowered his gaze, suitably chastened. When phrased so bluntly, it sounded stupid to him as well. But his dreams of Muraki before Kyoto were different: romantic dreams involving roses and marriage proposals and ardent declarations of lust, equal parts nightmare and fantasy. They had very little basis in real life.

But these later dreams--and especially the one in the library--required a greater imagination than he possessed. The eye with the double iris...and the dancing characters written in red...

Don't you recognise the signature?

They were clues. Tantalising clues.

"We still have no idea where his powers come from or what has become of him," Tsuzuki began, doing his best to match Tatsumi's impartial tone. "How can a mortal summon spirits for assistance? There must be some demonic force assisting him in his work. It requires further investigation."

Tatsumi shook his head. "Maybe so, but not by you. Your job as a Shinigami involves the investigation of delays in the JuOhCho court proceedings. You have no jurisdiction to pursue him unless Muraki is directly implicated in a current case in Second Block."

"So what are we supposed to do? Sit on our hands until he strikes again?" Tsuzuki stood up, a quick impatient gesture that made him tower over Tatsumi. "If I am indeed the most powerful Shinigami in EnMaCho, then I should be the logical choice to bring him to justice!"

"If you truly believe that, then you've forgotten your place," Tatsumi said icily. "Tsuzuki-san, you are given privileges as a Shinigami by EnmaCho for the purposes of serving the Shoukanka. Your powers are not to be misused for personal gain--or vendettas."

"I'm well aware of my responsibilities." Tsuzuki pulled out two fuda from his breast pocket, took aim and threw them in the air. They formed two serpents that tumbled in the air, spewing fire and smoke until they met the same soggy fate in the lake. He watched the display with clinical detachment, arm still outstretched in mid-throw. "My powers were given to me for a purpose. I owe it to DaiOh-sama to utilise them to my full potential." He dropped his arm and turned to Tatsumi, his lips twisted in a wry smile. "I doubt the destruction of JuOhCho and sending the Shoukanka into debt is a proper use of my powers, huh?"

"No, Tsuzuki-san, it isn't," Tatsumi said slowly. He watched Tsuzuki, standing tall and alone, his lean-muscled figure tense with suppressed energy, as if seeing him for the first time. All that power in desperate need of an outlet...

"I thought so." Tsuzuki folded his arms and returned to his contemplation of the lake. Steam slowly rose from its rippling surface, the remnants of the extinguished spirits. "Muraki is still out there. We know he survived under the protection of some mysterious influence. I have...suspicions...that he owes his power to a demon, most likely via a contract. Surely this matter is worthy of EnmaCho's interest."

"If--and that's a big 'if'--your suspicions have their basis in fact, then we would have to investigate. Do you have any evidence to support your claims?"

"No. It was something I saw...in a vision...or a dream." How lame it sounded, but it was all he had to go on. Were they fragments dropped by his subconscious or a direct link to Muraki himself? He wasn't sure anymore. Whatever it was, he knew he had to find Muraki again. It was time to end their unfinished business once and for all.

And this time, things would be different. He wouldn't let Muraki use his past against him any longer.

But EnMaCho didn't trust him, did they? He was their black sheep, the rogue Shinigami who could turn on them at any moment. He was only fit to play the scapegoat and the butt of jokes...and the occasional display of fuda magic and shikigami power.

He reached for his breast pocket again, but stopped when Tatsumi grasped his wrist.

"You've practised enough for today, Tsuzuki-san."

"I have?"

"Yes. You're going to need your fuda if you're pursuing Muraki, right?"

"Tatsumi..." Tsuzuki's jaw dropped as the words sank in.

Another chance. Tatsumi was giving him another chance!

He clasped Tatsumi's hand in a firm handshake. "Thank you. Thank you!" Overjoyed, he hugged the secretary for good measure.

"For as long as I've known you," Tatsumi murmured, "I never could refuse you anything." He looked at Tsuzuki, his expression grave.

"I promise to do my best not to let you down!" Tsuzuki assured him. He straightened his shoulders and lifted his head with new determination. "This time I'll bring Muraki in once and for all."

xxxxx