Two days later, Tsuzuki deciphered most of the message by himself. There were some jumbled characters that made little sense. Another anagram. Maybe it was a signature.

Asking Hisoka for help in this unofficial investigation was out of the question. Hisoka didn't need to be reminded of his past again, not when he finally seemed to be ridding himself of the curse at last. So he kept a safe distance from his empathic partner, just in case Hisoka picked up on his chaotic thoughts.

This was between him and Muraki. As long as it was not an official investigation instigated by JuOhCho, then there was no need for Hisoka to be told.

At first, he had decided not to enlist Watari's help either to avoid arousing more suspicions and questions. But with most of the message translated, Tsuzuki saw no harm in showing the remaining fragment to the Shoukanka's resident know-it-all.

Watari was more than willing to assist when Tsuzuki visited his laboratory.

"Of course, I can help you! Sit, sit!" Watari picked up a pile of books from a stool, unsuccessfully tried to find space on his bookshelf for them, then dumped them on the floor.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you--"

"No need to ask such a silly question!" Watari quickly cleared his workbench of equipment, and it all fell to the floor with a loud crash.

"Watari! What are you doing?"

"Never mind. It's just a prototype. I'm just happy to see that you're still talking to me. I honestly didn't mean to upset you the other day. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my work..." He broke off sheepishly and put his hand on Tsuzuki's shoulder. "But that's no excuse. Forgive me, Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki smiled, and meant it. "There's nothing to forgive. Don't worry about it anymore." Everyone was going out of their way to be kind to him at the moment. It felt nice, but it was so embarrassing. "Here is the anagram. I think it may be a name or title."

Watari peered at it. "How fascinating. Where does it come from?"

"I dreamt it." Tsuzuki shrugged. "Maybe my subconscious is telling me I should do more reading."

"Well, you should. That's the only way to learn. Isn't it, 003?"

The little owl perched on Watari's shoulder hooted in agreement.

"But if I read too much, I fall asleep!" Tsuzuki scratched his head and laughed. "I'm better off leaving such details to experts like you."

Watari smiled smugly. "I can't argue with that." He folded the paper and placed it in his lab pocket. "I'll try to get it done by this afternoon."

"There's no rush. Tomorrow will be fine. I'm taking the Gushoshin out for afternoon tea as a goodwill gesture." He winked at Watari. "Maybe if I offer them some delicious treats they will consider lowering the duration of their library ban."

"Then you must offer them the finest sweets from the best confectioners. Once Tatsumi tried to bribe them with cheap substitutes, and they threw it back in his face."

"Really? I didn't know they were so picky." So he'd have to take them somewhere expensive. But did he have the money? His pay packet wasn't exactly bulging with cash. He was still repaying the previous library damages through weekly pay deductions.

"Here." Watari pressed some notes in his hand. "Buy me some kasutera and mizuyokan with the change, okay? Be your most charming and pleasant, and I'm sure they won't hold their stony faces for long. Good luck."

It was a humid summer afternoon in Nagasaki. The sky was overcast, yet sunlight still filtered through the blanket of cloud to cast its grey light on the city. A slight sea breeze from the harbour provided some respite, but it wasn't enough to shift the sweltering heat. Maybe rain--even a thunderstorm--would come later that evening to clear the air. But for now, the only escape from the humidity was to seek the indoor comfort of the nearest air conditioner.

The tea rooms were busy with customers keen to escape from the heat. Flavoured ice teas were being sold with seasonal sweets and jellies. In one such establishment, Tsuzuki and the younger Gushoshin sat at a window table. They each had a glass of iced tea before them, and five dishes of colourful confections on the table.

"This monaka is delicious!" the Gushoshin declared, its mouth full of adzuki bean paste. "Thank you for inviting me out, Tsuzuki-san!"

Tsuzuki rested his chin in a gloved hand and smiled. "You're welcome. Be sure to bring some back for your brother. It's a shame he couldn't come along as well. You both work much too hard."

"There's much to do in the library archives. The database on demon spirits is out of date and requires urgent reconfiguration. We're working around the clock to get it done. We all aren't lazy layabouts like you!"

"Gushoshin! Is that any way to treat the generous host who's footing the bill?"

The bird spirit frowned, undaunted by Tsuzuki's hurt expression. "You aren't doing this to bribe me into terminating your library ban, are you?"

"No, no, no! I'd never dream of it!" Inwardly Tsuzuki cursed the Gushoshin's uncanny intuition. Three hundred years without the library was a long time. He reached over to take a delicately crafted namagashi. "So what's wrong with the demon database? It's worked fine for previous cases, hasn't it?"

"There has been much upheaval in the command structure serving under Grand Duke Ashitarote. Some high-ranking demons have been demoted, others have mysteriously disappeared...and worse of all, no one in the demon world keeps track of them! There's no official record to speak of except for the one in the library. If we can't keep track of them, the database will become obsolete. Chief Konoe is counting on us to get it completed. My brother is working on it as we speak."

Tsuzuki sipped his tea and sighed. "I wish you luck, but it's going to be difficult. You know as well as I do that demons thrive on secrecy. Most demons don't want to be identified, let alone located. Just do your best."

The Gushoshin grabbed a sweet jelly yokan and bit into it. "We will."

Tsuzuki looked out the window, but his mind was elsewhere. What he had said was true: demons guarded their names fiercely. Knowing the name of a demon was an important weapon, for it gave one with the magical skill and knowledge the information needed to summon, bind or destroy it.

But Muraki had flaunted the signature imprinted on his eye, challenging him to identify the name. Only a demon of incredible arrogance or power would consider revealing itself in such a blatant manner.

Which category did Muraki's demon fall into?

"Hey, Tsuzuki-san! Aren't you eating? You haven't even touched your namagashi yet."

Tsuzuki picked up his fork and slowly cut a piece. "I ate earlier." His ravenous craving for sweets had deserted him today. He wasn't hungry...at least not for food.

Muraki hadn't come to him for the past three nights.

"That's never stopped you before." The Gushoshin's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Are you all right, Tsuzuki-san?"

"I'm fine." Tsuzuki placed the piece in his mouth and smiled. He chewed it slowly, allowing the sweetness to linger on his tongue. His mind vaguely registered the sensation as pleasurable, but he felt no excitement or joy in eating. When he swallowed, it lodged in his throat as a thick choking lump.

In his dreams, he'd waited in the barren rose garden in the moonlight, yelling Muraki's name until his throat was raw. Waited...and waited.

He downed the rest of his iced tea in one gulp.

The Gushoshin looked down at his empty plate. "Tsuzuki-san, when you grabbed me in the library you said something about a dream. You thought I was...someone else..."

Tsuzuki tensed, leather-clad fingers tightening over the frosted glass. "Did you tell anyone?"

"No."

"Thank you." He carefully released the glass and picked up the fork again. "It's something I prefer to keep secret. Please don't tell anyone about it."

"Okay." The bird spirit studied him gravely. "But even if I say nothing, others may still find out. Hisoka-san has strong empathic abilities--"

"I've learnt some simple techniques from Tatsumi to shield my emotions." Tsuzuki began methodically cutting his cake into small pieces. "Hisoka doesn't know, and I want to keep it that way. I don't want him to be reminded of the past. He needs to focus on the future ahead of him."

"Yes, I agree. He needs to move on. But maybe it's time you followed your own advice too."

Tsuzuki looked at him in surprise, then flashed a sheepish smile. "Point taken, Gushoshin. I guess I worry too much for my own good."

"It's not like you to worry so much. And remember, Hisoka-san is your partner and friend. If you hide yourself from him for too long, he will be sure to suspect something."

"You may be right." Tsuzuki ate another piece. "But the dreams have disappeared. There isn't much to hide now."

Except for the nameless ache that gnawed within his gut, slowly driving him mad. The hunger no sweet, however exquisite, could satisfy.

Tsuzuki held out a plate of dainty suiko. "Please feel free to eat more."

"Ahhh!" The bird's eyes lit up. "Thank you!"

Two hours and many sweets later, they left with boxes full of cakes and sweets. Tsuzuki had bought kasutera and mizuyokan for Watari, and the Gushoshin had plenty of leftover sweets for his brother.

"What if Chief Konoe catches us with all this food?" Gushoshin asked, carrying the boxes in his arms. "Do we have enough kasutera to spare for him?"

"I'll give him a couple of the ones I bought for Watari. He won't mind." Tsuzuki took out his sunglasses and put them on, then carefully adjusted his black tie so that the knot fitted snugly against his buttoned collar. Dark clouds were rolling in from the horizon. Rain was likely in the evening. "Come on. We might as well do a little sightseeing while we're here. Did you bring your camera?"

The Gushoshin nodded. "But we've been here before, Tsuzuki-san. Haven't we seen all the sights already?"

"There's more to Nagasaki than meets the eye." Tsuzuki began walking briskly along the narrow cobblestone street, his black trench coat flaring behind him. "Let's see as much as we can before sunset!"

"Wait!" The Gushoshin floated after him and settled on his shoulder. "I can't move so fast after eating so much." He looked at Tsuzuki's neat attire. "You're dressed very smartly today. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were going out on a hot date."

"Gushoshin! Are you crazy?" A guilty flush crept over Tsuzuki's cheeks. "I'm not dating anyone...unless you mean yourself." He cast a mischievous look at the bird spirit. "So you're falling for my irresistible charm at long last. Will you consider repealing the three-hundred-year ban from the library for the one you adore?"

"Never! Tsuzuki-san is an idiot!" The Gushoshin bounced up and down on Tsuzuki's shoulder in horror. "I never said I was falling for a useless person like you!"

Tsuzuki laughed. "Okay, okay. My mistake. You should have seen the look on your face! I've never seen you look so horr--" He broke off in mid- sentence, eyes wide, and whirled about.

"What is it?"

Tsuzuki didn't reply. For the fraction of a second, he could have sworn that someone was just behind him, breathing at the nape of his neck. Warm breath over his skin, sending shivers down his spine...

But there was no one behind him. The other passers-by were too far away.

"What's wrong, Tsuzuki-san?"

"Nothing." He took the sunglasses off and placed them on his head. With narrowed eyes he scanned the rest of the street. His ever-reliable spiritual sixth sense wailed one name again and again, reverberating in his mind with the high-pitched intensity of an ambulance siren.

The characters written on his body were a message: Nagasaki Full Moon.

The moon was only in its first quarter phase. It wouldn't reach completion for another eight days. But Muraki was already here. He could feel it. His decision to come early had been vindicated.

"Let's go, Gushoshin. We don't have any time to waste."

So they began searching. They walked along the famous Dutch Slope, with its picturesque cobblestone pathways and ivy-covered walls. They visited Oura Tenshu-do, the beautiful white Catholic church with its single spire reaching for the heavens. Then they went to Chinatown, the Hamanomachi shopping arcades, Mount Inasa with its panoramic views, and the hushed serenity of the Peace Park and Urakami cathedral.

Nothing. No Muraki. Tsuzuki's sixth sense detected nothing. The wailing was muted to a fleeting whisper.

They finally went to Glover Park with its historical Western residential buildings and harbour views. The clouds that had been on the horizon had reached the harbour, casting the sky in a murky shade of yellow-grey.

The Gushoshin pulled his beret over his head. "It's getting dark. Why don't we go back? We can always do the sightseeing another day."

Tsuzuki looked over the city, his arms folded, a frown wrinkling his brow. The lights were visible as twinkling lights, little gems nestled against the mountains and stretching down to the sea. There was a slight breeze stirring his hair and trench coat, but it did little to dispel the stifling humidity.

Nothing. He'd searched and come up empty. But Muraki was definitely here somewhere. His senses never lied.

"I can't go back. Not yet."

"Of course you can. How else are we going to get these sweets back to the Shoukanka?"

Tsuzuki held up one gloved finger. "Hush."

The clouds to the north lit up with a flash of light. Thunder rumbled overhead, its muted roar sounding like a beast awakening from slumber. It would reach the city later tonight.

His sixth sense remained silent. Too silent. It was time to resort to supernatural means.

He withdrew a fuda from his breast pocket. It transformed into a swallow perched on his fingers.

"Help me find Muraki. Show me where he is."

The swallow trilled, then flew away toward the city.

"Muraki? Muraki!" The Gushoshin's eyes popped out of its head. "The insane perverted homicidal Doctor Muraki?"

Tsuzuki lowered the sunglasses to his face. "Do you know of any other?"

"Why are you looking for a crazy man like him? There's no active case involving him at the moment, is there?"

"Not yet."

In his mind, he could see through the eyes of the swallow. It circled over the entire city, moving from harbour to business district in a huge arc, then flew further to the entertainment and shopping arcades. Faster it flew, slicing through the air with the speed of a falling sword...

It swooped over Shianbashi Street, hovered in mid-air, then trilled again.

"That's it! Let's go, Gushoshin!"

"You haven't answered my question! Why are we chasing Mu--"

They were standing amid the many gourmet restaurants in Shianbashi before he could finish his sentence.

"Tsuzuki-san! Stop being so impulsive. Tell me what you're doing."

"Meddling." Tsuzuki looked around, his heart thudding in his chest. "Didn't you once say it was my speciality?"

"I take it back. Your speciality is stupidity. You must be nuts to think you can chase Muraki by yourself!"

"I have you, don't I? We're working as a pair." His sixth sense was wailing once again, the volume steadily rising. Muraki had to be near.

"You told me we were going out for afternoon tea. You tricked me!"

Out of the corner of one eye, Tsuzuki caught sight of a flash of white. He turned to see a tall man dressed in a white suit walking on the other side of the narrow street.

"Don't, Tsuzuki-san! I'm going to tell Chief Konoe!"

Tsuzuki broke into a run, his coat flaring behind him. Taken by surprise, the GuShoShin tumbled off Tsuzuki's shoulder.

"Hey! Wait up, Tsuzuki-san! I'm still carrying the sweets!"

It had to be Muraki. The height, the build, the silver hair. The narrow waist he had repeatedly stabbed with a scalpel. The broad shoulders he had clawed in the extremity of climax.

"Muraki!"

It was the shorter man beside him who turned first. He had short dark hair streaked with grey, and he seemed several years older than Muraki. He tapped the doctor's shoulder. "Sensei, do you know this man?"

"We know each other well," Tsuzuki replied for him.

At last the man dressed in white turned to face him. Silver hair obscured his right eye. The glasses reflected the neon lights from the restaurant signs, momentarily obscuring his left eye from view. One eyebrow was raised in mild curiosity.

For a man who had suffered multiple stab wounds and major blood loss in Kyoto, Muraki looked incredibly well.

"Do we? I don't believe so." No other voice mixed clinical coolness with seductive menace to such ambiguous effect. "Have we met before?"

"Yes, dammit! Don't play games with me." Tsuzuki pulled his sunglasses off, violet eyes flashing with anger. They were enemies. They had a shared past carved in flesh and blood. How dare Muraki forget?

Muraki's remote gaze raked him from head to foot as if examining a piece of livestock up for auction. When he was done, he lifted one hand to push his glasses up his nose. A sardonic smile curved his lips. "Forgive me. I'm sure I would remember someone as striking as you."

"Maybe this is a former patient of yours," the other man suggested. "You've operated on so many over the years--"

"I'm not a former patient," Tsuzuki snapped dismissively. "Fortunately for me." Tsuzuki could see Muraki grinning now, openly amused. How he longed to destroy the doctor's composure. "This man is not what he seems," he said to Muraki's companion. "On the outside he appears to be a doctor who cares for the welfare of his patients but on the inside he's a ruthless, calculating, cold-blooded--"

"Lover?" Muraki finished helpfully. He pulled Tsuzuki tight against him, imprisoning him with brute force.

Tsuzuki could hardly speak. The merciless grip squeezed the air from his lungs. He was pressed against unyielding muscle and bone from shoulder to hip. A sharp ache of desire passed through him. There was no denying the man's imposing physique or the aura of sexual magnetism he possessed. The dreams, vivid as they were, could never prepare him for dealing with Muraki in the flesh.

Muraki lowered his head so that his lips were close to Tsuzuki's ear. "You know me so well, Tsuzuki-san. But how can you think I am cold-blooded? Allow me to prove you wrong."

Tsuzuki tried to squirm away, but there was no escape from Muraki's hold. He trembled as Muraki nibbled at the sensitive lobe of his ear. The heat of his breath tickled his neck, sending his pulse into overdrive and shivers of delight along his spine. The surrounding people, the restaurants, even the outside world receded into the background. After being deprived of the doctor's taunting presence for three nights, his body now strained to absorb each action Muraki inflicted on him. The cool graze of his teeth and the feather-light caress of his warm lips, the hand sliding from his waist to linger at his hip...Tsuzuki's starving senses welcomed them all.

"You are always so impatient, Tsuzuki-san. I already told you I had business to attend to this evening. Couldn't you wait for me to come to you after dinner?"

It took several seconds for the question to penetrate his consciousness and kick-start his defences. "NOOO! We're not like that, you pervert!" He wrenched himself away, cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

Muraki obliged by releasing his grip. "Forgive me, Norata-san. I usually take great care to keep my personal affairs private. I did not mean to embarrass you with such a vulgar public display, but Tsuzuki-san has such lusty appetites. Satisfying him is a full-time job in itself."

Tsuzuki found refuge in anger. "Shut up! Stop saying such lies, dammit!"

The other man looked nervously from one to the other. "So...so you do know each other after all?"

"Yes." Muraki cast a wicked look at Tsuzuki, who was still fuming with rage. "Intimately."

"Bastard!" Tsuzuki shook a fist at him. "You know it's not like that! Stop lying to everyone!"

"Tsuzuki-san! Tsuzuki-saaan!" The Gushoshin plopped himself on Tsuzuki's shoulder, still carrying the boxes of sweets. "Didn't you hear me calling for help? I was almost trampled back there." He noticed Tsuzuki's fierce gaze and followed it to its target. "Arghh!" He ducked behind Tsuzuki's shoulder in terror. "Let's go back now. I've had enough sightseeing for one day."

Muraki was smiling at them both, his eyes crinkled up at the corners. "I still owe you those roses, ne? If I'd known you were coming tonight, I would have ordered them in advance."

"He looks even more scary when he's happy," the Gushoshin muttered.

The cheerful façade hardened Tsuzuki's resolve. There was no way he was going back. He hadn't come all this way just to let Muraki escape again. He had to decipher the contract written on Muraki's eye.

It was the only reason for him to be here. Shinigami business, nothing else.

"Sensei, would your...guest...like to join us for dinner?"

"That is extremely generous of you, Norata-san," Muraki said. "Tsuzuki-san, are you free to join us for dinner this evening? Norata-san owns a restaurant in this area. We were on our way there when we ran into you."

Deliberately ignoring Muraki, Tsuzuki bowed to the other man. "Thank you for the invitation, sir. Forgive me for being so rude earlier."

"No, not at all. Any friend of Muraki-sensei is a friend of mine. Come, we should get moving before it starts to rain."

The three of them began walking together. Tsuzuki found himself between Norata and Muraki.

"I don't understand why you're eating with him," the bird spirit muttered. "What are you up to now?"

"Hush, Gushoshin. I'll explain later."

"You are fortunate to have Muraki-sensei as a friend," Norata said. "Five years ago, he saved my daughter's life. I have been in his debt ever since."

"This man saved your daughter?"

"She had a leaky heart valve. I replaced it," Muraki explained lightly.

"Sensei, you are too modest. He operated on her at a time when my business was struggling. There was no way I could afford the medical bills, so he waived them all. A man of such kindness and generosity is rare in this materialistic world."

Tsuzuki lowered his gaze and avoided a reply. He did not doubt the man's story. No doubt he performed life-saving actions for his patients in his line of work. But that didn't negate the many crimes he had committed, or the suffering and anguish he had inflicted on others. Good deeds, no matter how noble or self-sacrificing, could never wash away the stain of sin.

Tsuzuki knew this from personal experience.

"I heard that tonight there will be violent thunderstorms and strong winds," Muraki said. "It's best that we do not stay out too late. I wouldn't want Tsuzuki-san to catch a chill."

"Of course, sensei. I will ensure that we are given prompt service."

Tsuzuki fought down his rising temper. He knew the doctor was trying to unsettle him. "You can stop the pretence, Muraki." His voice was soft and low enough to avoid being overheard, yet it held a subtle threat of its own. "If I were you, I'd be concentrating on my own welfare tonight."

Muraki's lips quirked. "That's always my primary concern." He cast a sidelong look at Tsuzuki that lingered a fraction too long to be considered polite. "Most of the time, anyway."

Tsuzuki clenched his jaw and remained silent. There was no point in making another scene in the middle of the street. After the dinner, he would find an opportunity to observe and photograph the eye in close-up. All he had to do was tolerate the doctor's outrageous behaviour for the next few hours. How hard could it be? He'd endured similar situations before.

As long as they were in public company, Muraki would act within the bounds of decorum...more or less.