Big thanks to Demonprist, SithWitch and Gengkotsuya for beta-reading. Demonprist also gave me some very funny tips on cat behaviour, which I've nabbed for this part.
Thanks too to all who have commented. The insights and speculation, the comments about the direction of the Mu/Tsu relationship, the encouragement...it's really touching. I really appreciate your patience in continuing to read this crazy fic because I write slooooow.
Please check out the new Mu/Tsu artwork on my site: Madness has done a delightful sketch of Muraki with a blushing Tsuzuki, and Gengkotsuya has done a very sexy pencil artwork!
April 1 - minor edit thanks to Madness.
For Tristeta - Maybe a change in position will 'unseal' Tsuzuki. Then again, maybe not.
A garden by night was the perfect place for a romantic assignation or a secluded refuge to be alone with one's thoughts. But without its leaves and flowers, it possessed the grim starkness of a graveyard.
Tsuzuki looked at the garden around him. Row upon row of rose bushes stretched as far as the eye could see, every single one bereft of blossoms or leaves. Their branches were lifted to the dark sky, sharp thorns gleaming in the pale moonlight as they cast grotesque shadows on the ground. The odours of grass and manure filled the air - long-forgotten scents that evoked memories of his childhood. A gust of wind ruffled his hair and trenchcoat, bringing a chill that bit into his skin through the layers of cloth.
He knew this place. This was the place he visited in dreams before he found Muraki in Nagasaki. But Tsuzuki did not hear his seductive drawl against his ear or detect the scent of his cologne. His spiritual sense couldn't detect him at all.
So this was a dream. But why was he dreaming of this place again?
Tsuzuki began to walk between the bushes, doing his best to scan his surroundings for signs of life.
"Muraki?" he called out. "Muraki! What's the meaning of this?"He didn't get an answer. But as he kept walking, he could hear a whimpering sound.
"Is anyone there?"
A gust of wind blew past him, snatching the sound away.
Tsuzuki stopped and turned around, listening hard. Nothing...but his spiritual sense detected something faint ahead.
He quickened his pace. He was getting nearer to it.
"No! Okaasan! Okaasan!" A piercing shriek rent the air.
Tsuzuki broke into a run. He leapt between two rose bushes, uncaring of the thorns ripping his clothing and hands as he pushed them aside.
A young girl dressed in a cotton smock cowered on the grass, arms flung over her head. Before the child knelt a woman dressed in a kimono with long hair falling about her shoulders to her waist. She held a thick rosebush branch studded with thorns in one upraised hand.
"Hey!" Tsuzuki seized the woman's wrist. "What do you think you're doing?"
She let the branch fall to the ground. Her fingers and palm were lined with bloody cuts from the thorns. She looked up at him with flashing dark eyes, her pale oval face contorted with grief. "What do you think, Shinigami?" she spat at him. "I'm doing your work for you!"
The words shocked him, but it was the jolt of recognition that rendered him speechless. He had dealt with many distressed people through his work - people who resented their fate and clung to life. But he would have recognised her anywhere. Her face was as familiar to him as his own. A few less wrinkles around the eyes perhaps, but otherwise the resemblance was uncanny.
Okaasan.
"Do my actions disgust you? Is that why you intervene? But you're not the only one who can take life away! I don't have your grace or finesse, but I can do it too."
"No, Okaasan!" The child lifted her head to reveal tear-streaked cheeks. "I don't want to die!"
Tsuzuki's chest contracted. So little and chubby - she was nothing like the elder sister he remembered. But the eyes and the hair were still the same. This was Ruka - he was sure of it.
"We have no reason to live! My husband is dead thanks to you!" She stood up and glared at Tsuzuki with accusing eyes. "I saw you drain his life force. He was so weak from his injuries - he would have fought you with the strength of a dozen lions if he'd been well. But you chose a time when he was at his weakest in mind and body." She tried to hit Tsuzuki with her fists. "A week was all I wanted! One more week - I know he would have gotten better! One more...week..." Terrible sobs wracked through her body, squeezing the breath from her lungs.
Tsuzuki put his arms around her. There was nothing he could say to ease her pain, so he remained silent. Her tears wet his shirt and throat. Her hair tickled his jaw.
She was painfully thin, all skin and bone in his arms. Beneath his fingers he could feel her shoulder blades and the ridges of her ribs. But she smelled of roses - the flowers she loved best - just as he remembered.
Bittersweet pain filled his heart - grief in knowing he would lose them again, and joy at seeing them after so many years.
Tsuzuki blinked away the tears before they could fall. He tightened his arms around her.
"Don't be sad, Okaasan. Please don't cry anymore," the girl said.
The words roused the woman from her grief. She pushed Tsuzuki away. "Comfort from one such as you...what am I thinking?" She knelt down and opened her arms to her child. "Come here, little one. Do you want to see Otousan?"
"Yes." The girl hugged her back. With the resilience of the very young, she had forgiven her mother without thinking. "I miss Otousan."
She kissed her daughter's forehead. "Let us hope he makes it swift for us." She looked at Tsuzuki. "Kill us. Reunite us as a family once more."
"But I don't want to die, Okaasan." The girl looked from her to Tsuzuki.
"Quiet now. This is the only way we can see him again."
Tsuzuki sat down on the grass, and crossed his legs. He smiled at the child. "How old are you, little one?"
Overcome by shyness, she hid her face against the woman's shoulder.
"What is it to you?" the woman retorted. "Why do you care?"
Tsuzuki placed one hand on the grass and caressed it. Blades of grass slipped through his fingers, gleaming with dew in the moonlight. "I need to know the age of all my victims." A harsh term to describe the people he summoned - but that was how he regarded them. Killing was killing, regardless of the motive or method. "Let me show you something." He closed his fingers around several tufts and pulled them out. Only a few long strands of grass were visible between his fingers. "See? The little blades are much more difficult to pluck. Despite their size, their grip on life is incredibly tenacious. Children are the same."
"My daughter is four years old."
"Only four." Tsuzuki stroked his chin as he sized them both up. "No, I'm afraid it's not possible. I can see her spirit is much too strong for me to extinguish. You don't want to die, do you?" he asked her.
The girl shook her head.
"That decides it," Tsuzuki said cheerily. "If you seek life, I have no authority to take it from you." He gathered his coat about him and stood up. "And if she lives, then as her mother you must live as well. It's your responsibility to look after her and guide her into adulthood." He smiled at the girl again. "I can tell she will be a beautiful young lady one day."
"I wish she'd been born a boy."
Tsuzuki blinked. "Why?"
"My husband always wanted a son to carry on the family name. Now his name will die with him."
The girl pulled at her mother's sleeve. "I know how to climb trees like a boy, Okaasan!"
"I know, but it's not the same."
"She may not be able to carry on his name, but she still carries a part of his life force within her. As she grows up, you'll find that she reminds you of him in many ways." He took the girl's chin and lifted it up. "Do you climb many trees?" he asked gently.
"Yes!" the girl said, forgetting her fear for the moment. "And when I fall down, I never cry!"
"For one so young, she has much fortitude." He ruffled her hair. "Don't make the mistake of devaluing your own daughter."
The woman stared at him, eyes wide. "Why is a shinigami being so kind to mortals like us?"
"You both have so much to live for. Your lives are not yet finished. And contrary to superstition we don't kill every person we come across. If we did that, we'd only be creating even more work for ourselves! After all, we need our rest time too." He bowed before them both. "I will leave you both in peace."
"Wait! Before you go - I have a request to make."
"What?"
The woman bowed before him, her face to the ground, long hair cascading over her shoulders to touch his shoes. "Please give me a child."
"Hey!" Tsuzuki stepped back. "I'm a God of Death, remember? I take life away - I don't dispense it out!"
"I don't want any child. I want yours." She lifted her head slowly, her gaze strangely serene in the moonlight. "Please give me your child."
"You mean...my..." Tsuzuki laughed with more than a trace of hysteria. "No, no, no!"
The woman lowered her head. "I knew it was foolish to ask. I know you can never love me, a mortal with a finite lifespan-"
"No, no. It's not that." Tsuzuki covered his mouth and shook his head. And he once thought his dreams of Muraki were shameful... "It's just - it's not possible. It's against Shoukanka rules! Hell, I can't even...even..."
"Can't what?"
"Never mind," he muttered. "Believe me, I'd make a terrible father. I couldn't provide for you - we're paid peanuts. There's a lot of other fine young men...and besides, you still have your daughter!"
"It's not enough." She reached out to grab his arm. "My daughter is more mine than his - I cannot see my husband in her face. But if I had a son...a boy..." For all her frailty, her cracked nails dug into his flesh.
Tsuzuki tried to shake her off. "I'm sorry, but it's impossible. I don't do that kind of thing! I - I'm out of practice-"
"I can climb like a boy!" The girl pulled at her mother's sleeve. "I can run like a boy too!"
The woman ignored her. "A son is all I ask - an ember of life to replace the fierce flame you stole from me." Her eyes were empty blank depths swallowing up the moonlight. "Please let me give birth to your child."
"No! I can't do it! I can't-"
Sharp thorns sprouted from her arms and hands. Her fingers transformed into vine-like tendrils that wound around his wrists and arms.
Tsuzuki pulled himself free, breaking the tendrils in his desperation. Yet more tendrils grew from the stumps - thick wood-like branches studded with thorns. They pressed into his palms when he grabbed them, piercing his flesh as they grew in size. He swore and kicked at them with his feet. A few cracked and creaked from the blows, but new branches grew from the stumps to reach for him again. When he tried to kick them again, more thorny branches sprouted from the ground to curl around his legs.
"What's the meaning of this? What the..." He turned to look at the girl to find a flourishing rosebush in her place, pink buds beginning to bloom. "Dammit! What do you want from me?"
"A child." Leaves grew from the woman's hair, adorning her head like a crown. "Please give me your child." Deep furrows and grooves stretched around her eyes and nose. Her skin became withered as the layers cracked and peeled away to reveal shiny brown bark. "Even if you can never love me-"
The thorns were everywhere, biting into Tsuzuki's shoulders as they engulfed him in their woody embrace. More pressed into his arms, winding around his wrists. Vines curled around his neck, over his mouth and nose. He ripped at them, but more vines grew to replace them. He fumbled blindly for his fuda. He needed to attack it. Fire...
But fire would burn everything...and everyone. Just like last time...
He grimaced as he twisted around. There had to be another way.
"Let me go!" he ground out. "Stop it! Don't make me do this!"
The woman was no more - in her place was a thriving plant as tall as a man, a bizarre mixture of rosebush and grapevine. A thorny branch curled around his head. Sharp spikes dug into his forehead. Blood trickled to his brow.
"Arrrrrggghhhh!"
Red was everywhere. The thorns formed deep scratches as they began to descend down his face. More vines and thorny branches tightened around his arms and legs to form a cocooning prison. He couldn't move. He couldn't see.
He would lose his eyes - his hated purple eyes. Like Saagatanus had lost his...
Tsuzuki screamed. A vitriolic torrent of grief and fury and horror spilled from his lips.
Behind his eyelids, a thread of white spiralled out against a backdrop of red. Twelve pulsing points formed before him, twisting in an empty void - then exploded out into blinding rays of brilliant white light.
Branches splintered around him like matchsticks, then burst into flames as they fell to the ground. The vines slackened their hold. He was free once more, his vision restored.
Torn leaves and rose petals and burning rosebush lay scattered throughout the garden.
The mother and daughter were nowhere to be found.
"Tsuzuki-san."
A warm tongue lapped one of his eyelids. A suffocating warmth settled around him, pressing him down against the mattress.
"Your tears are as sweet as the rest of you. So delicious...but the essence isn't here." The tongue moved to the other eyelid to lap it with soothing strokes. "If only feeding from you were so easy. Then I would torture you until you wept a flood of tears, then drink every drop until I was drunk on your grief."
Tsuzuki opened his eyes. Muraki loomed over him, silver fringe falling into his eyes, his shoulders outlined with morning sunlight. His arms were braced on either side as he held Tsuzuki's wrists against the mattress.
Muraki tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "But there is nothing to be gained in wishing for what cannot be, ne?"
"Muraki..." Tsuzuki's voice was raw. The acrid smell of smoke still lingered in his nostrils. He cleared his throat. "Let go of me before I kill you."
Muraki arched a brow. "Why do you think I'm holding you down?" He indicated one of Tsuzuki's hands with a nod of his head.
His palms and wrists were still encased in velvet, but the fingertips of both gloves were burnt to a cinder, leaving his digits exposed.
"What...what happened?"
"I was going to ask you the same question." Muraki leaned over to tug one of the buckles, and nodded with satisfaction when it held firm. "You woke up kicking and shouting, while your gloves smouldered to a crisp. I had no idea your predilection for violent bedroom antics persisted in sleep as well."
"I wasn't even holding a fuda," Tsuzuki muttered.
"This is more than fuda magic. This is a fissure in the seal that binds you, deeper than the one you showed me yesterday." Muraki took one of Tsuzuki's wrists and brought the fingers to his lips. "Deliberate intent was required for this little display of power." Gently he nuzzled and licked the fingertips with the tip of his tongue.
Tsuzuki watched in fascinated wonder as Muraki closed his lips around the index finger. "Muraki...what..."
Muraki closed his eyes as he began to suck with a slow easy rhythm. His tongue swept over the sensitive fingerpad with gentle strokes. He let his lips glide along the digit to the knuckle to suck it deeper.
Tsuzuki flushed. He never knew fingers could be an erogenous zone. The pleasure was nothing like the intense exquisite sensations of last night, blinding him to everything else - now he could watch Muraki's responses as well. He looked so serene, with his long eyelashes flush against high cheekbones - like a man who had been granted his dearest wish.
Muraki settled himself between Tsuzuki's thighs, his arousal pressing between them as he made himself comfortable. He began to suck with more enthusiasm, using his teeth to scrape the fingertip. His tongue caressed the length of the digit, laving it with strokes that tickled and teased - a tantalising imitation of the way he had sucked Tsuzuki last night.
Languid pleasure stole along the inside of Tsuzuki's wrist, followed by a sizzling heat along his index finger. But even as he registered the new sensation, Muraki dissipated the heat with a swipe of his tongue. His finger became cool, then cold - as if he were burrowing his finger in ice instead of Muraki's mouth.
Beneath his fringe, Muraki's false eye began to glow - four points of red around the iris.
In his dream, there had been twelve points. The last thing he had seen as the thorns pierced his eyes - the same twelve points. The true seal of the demon with whom Muraki made his covenant...
"No!" Tsuzuki pulled his hand free and shoved Muraki away. "My energy is mine!"
Muraki fell back against the sheets, lips still parted, a dazed expression on his face. "You..." His gaze narrowed as he came to his senses. "Look at your hands - this is the outcome of energy unchecked! It must be released if you are to ever master your power!"
Tsuzuki curled his hands into fists. "I don't share my energy!"
"Why did you shed your blood last night?" Muraki's eyes glittered with anger. "Why did you let me believe you cared about my fate?"
"I..." Tsuzuki flushed and turned away. "That was a one-off incident. You were under the delusion I could help, so I had to do something. You haven't been summoned for judgement by JuOhCho yet."
"So you felt pity for me. Is that it?"
Tsuzuki fiddled with the velvet cuff of one glove. He knew this was dangerous territory.
"Answer me!"
"Why should I? You've never cared about my feelings before."
"I have no use for your pity!" Muraki snarled. "If anyone needs pity, it is you for being such an ignorant fool!" He seized Tsuzuki's hand before he could reach for the buckle. "What are you doing? I never gave you permission to remove them."
"They can't serve their purpose anymore." Tsuzuki watched as Muraki took both wrists and held them apart. "Why do you insist that you are mine - then act the same arrogant way you always have? It's a lie and you know it."
"It is no lie. I am yours."
"My what?" Tsuzuki countered. He tried to wrench one wrist free. "My tormentor? My rival?"
"Now that is an interesting question." Muraki's grin was wolfish. "What would you like me to be? Advisor? Guardian? Teacher, perhaps?"
"Don't be ridiculous!"
"Boyfriend, then...or lover." He drawled the last word, as if savouring the syllables. "Our activities together suggest a degree of intimacy-"
"What about a dream master? Are you responsible for the dream I just had?"
Muraki arched a brow. "Why do you ask?" His lips curved in a smirk. "Poor Tsuzuki-san. Did you have a nightmare?"
His mocking amusement incensed Tsuzuki.
"You know damn well I did! You created it so you could unleash my power - that's been your true purpose all along. You want my power for your own twisted goals." He grabbed Muraki by the shoulders. "How dare you invoke the memory of my mother and sister! Leave them out of it!"
"Must you blame me for everything bad that happens to you? Maybe this is a cry from your subconscious - a reminder of your past, of the people whose memory you betrayed in order to become the creature you are now."
Tsuzuki froze, his brows drawn together in a frown. Yesterday he had thought of his family while admiring the tulips at the country club - was his subconscious seeking to redress this by conjuring them in his mind? But why had they turned into monstrous plants? This wasn't how he remembered them. "Shut up! I don't know what you're insinuating, but people aren't plants! You can't just hack them off like flowers from a bush! Every one of them is equal!"
"Equal in what?" Muraki's steely gaze flashed. "In their emotional dependence on others? In the way they desperately search for validation of their meaningless existence?"
"Who are you to judge whose existence is meaningless? You have no right to cast judgement!"
"Why not? That is what you do when you take life away," Muraki sneered. "I merely follow your example."
"Shut up!" Tsuzuki's nails dug into Muraki's flesh as he shook him. "You know nothing of my work! You have no idea of what I do!"
"And you know nothing about being human! You'd rather believe a rose-tinted illusion than recognise the truth-"
Tsuzuki silenced him with a brutal kiss. He bit at the thin lips until they parted, and drank from the wetness within. There was nothing sweet about Muraki's mouth - he was metallic in taste, tangy and bitter yet intoxicating nevertheless. His bare fingers tangled in Muraki's hair, glorying in the feel of the soft silken strands.
Muraki groaned and returned the favour. His tongue lashed against Tsuzuki's as he deepened the kiss. His hands wound around Tsuzuki's waist, fingers possessively splayed across his unmarked back - once again claiming the territory he lacerated the night before. He stroked along the length of his spine, then swept along one hip to dig his nails into the trembling muscle of a taut buttock.
Tsuzuki arched back, his throat exposed, eyes slitted in pleasure. Muraki's nails were as sharp as thorns, but his flesh was warm and sensitive and smooth to touch - supple and human, not gnarled wood. Tsuzuki did his own tests of seductive torture - kneading Muraki's shoulders until they flexed and twitched beneath him, and marking angular shoulder blades with the scrape of his nails.
"Sadist," Muraki teased. "You haven't even fed me yet." He ran the flat of one palm along Tsuzuki's ribcage until his thumb rested against a flat nipple. He rubbed the nub in circles, at first with feather-light touches that made Tsuzuki twitch in frustration, then firm squeezes with thumb and forefinger that made him writhe in pleasure-pain.
Bemused, Tsuzuki watched, his chest rising and falling in excitement. Had they been arguing moments before? It was hard to remember - nothing seemed to matter when he fell under the thrall of Muraki's sexual expertise. His nipple ached, acutely sensitised by Muraki's touch. Even the neglected nipple was taut in sympathy.
"See? There are more subtle ways to inflict torture," Muraki muttered. "Ways that leave the flesh unmarked and unbroken." He began to stroke the other nipple gently with his thumb, then less gently with the pinch of his fingertips. When Tsuzuki tried to push his hand away, he wound his free arm around Tsuzuki's waist and pulled him close, their legs tangling together as they faced each other. "Don't fight this. Endurance brings its own rewards." He lowered his head to suck at one nipple.
Tsuzuki couldn't answer. Helplessly he wound his hands around Muraki's neck, his fingers tangling in fine silver hair. The ticklish pleasure of Muraki's lips and tongue, cleverly interspersed with the sharp bite of his teeth...Tsuzuki was left gasping at the miasma of conflicting sensations. Why was Muraki doing this? He was not a woman - his flat breast was only muscle. There was no milk here, no energy from which he could draw sustenance.
No, there was nothing Muraki could gain by toying with him in this way.
Tsuzuki found some comfort in that thought as Muraki nipped the other nipple, then lapped at it with the soothing warmth of his tongue. He reminded himself of it as he shivered, pleasure vibrating along his nerve endings like music from a taut violin string. When Muraki lifted his head to draw breath, Tsuzuki urged him down.
"I thought you wanted me to stop. I was only doing what you wanted."
Tsuzuki wound one leg around Muraki's lean hips. "Don't stop." He pressed his cock against Muraki's groin, and began a rhythmic undulation with his hips, shamelessly rubbing their erections together. "Feel...what you do to me."
"Mmm..." Muraki closed his eyes in an expression of pure bliss. "I feel it...ahh..." He grasped Tsuzuki by the waist, nails marking the flesh they held. He sank his teeth deep in Tsuzuki's shoulder, and sighed as the living muscle flexed and rippled against his lips.
Tsuzuki gasped as he lay on his side, his heart pounding. Saagatanus had marked him like this, his sharp teeth biting this very same spot - crushing muscle and bone with his powerful jaws. Muraki possessed the same demonic hunger - it was only his human form that prevented him from causing the same physical injury. His mouth was smaller, his teeth lacking jagged serrations. His silver hair tickled Tsuzuki's jaw and cheek; his hot breath teased the curve of Tsuzuki's throat. His cock twitched and throbbed, shifting restlessly across Tsuzuki's thighs and groin, a delicious friction that threatened to melt what little control Tsuzuki had left.
In this sea of erotic sensation, the bites and scratches were strangely appropriate - a necessary brake on the escalating waves of sensuality. Their previous encounters had been quick and frenzied, crazed lust-fuelled couplings that only provided temporary relief. Maybe twists of pain to counteract the pleasure would provide a more lasting satiation. The injuries did not matter - he was a Shinigami. He had endured much worse in his work - why not endure it again in his quest for sexual gratification? So he cradled Muraki's head as he bit and sucked until bruises formed on his shoulder. He willingly arched his throat when Muraki traced the graceful lines with his lips and tongue.
A soft whimper left his throat. Pain mixed with pleasure...this was what he deserved.
"Patience," Muraki muttered. "You must be..." He nuzzled the pulse point at his throat, then nipped it with his teeth. "...patient."
Tsuzuki nodded, but this teasing was unbearable - even the pain Muraki inflicted could not distract him from his hunger. His fingers clenched in Muraki's hair, tangling in its silken softness. The man was such a bewitching mix of contrasts: sharp yet soft, brutal yet tender. He tried to explore Muraki's body with his other hand, still partially encased in its glove. His fingertips slid down the satin smoothness of his back, marked by the cuts he'd inflicted during their first liaison, until he reached the scars along the side of his torso. He slid his fingers over them, memorising their path from ribcage across narrow waist to hip - thick intersecting cords of rippled tissue.
Muraki exhaled sharply and a shiver went through him. "Tsuzuki-san..." He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped Tsuzuki's wrist.
Tsuzuki frowned as Muraki guided him to another spot. Even though he was miraculously healed, Muraki did not have the healing powers of a Shinigami. The demon with whom he shared the covenant could not grant the same regenerative power as EnmaDaiOh. He began to stroke them again, this time with delicate feather-light strokes.
"You like touching them, ne?" Muraki whispered, his head resting on the pillow. "This is as it should be. You were the one who gave me my first true taste of steel." His entire body tensed as Tsuzuki drew his fingers along a thick scar line, then relaxed as they moved on. "Do you remember? I had my back to you, which was careless of me. Your first stab was so swift and deep - my flesh may as well have been butter. The tip of the knife emerged over..." Tentatively he touched a stellate scar over his abdomen. "...here, I think."
"It doesn't matter." Tsuzuki pushed his hand away and ran his fingers along the scar. He tried to flatten his palm but the velvet hampered his efforts. Annoyed, he reached for the buckle of one - and jerked back when a small electric charge stung his fingers.
The buckles were charmed - the magic around them was palpable, alive for the first time. A spell...
"What is the meaning of this?"
Muraki's lips tilted at the corners. "You didn't ask me permission. The fabric is immaterial - it is not required for the protective ward to take effect."
Tsuzuki stared at them in disgust. He had put them on yesterday - he didn't sense any spiritual power emanating from them at the time. "When did you place this spell on them?"
"While you were sleeping. As your power grows, such a spell is necessary to prevent any unfortunate mishaps - otherwise you would have woken with the entire hotel burning in flames around you, which isn't quite the sizzling awakening I had in mind for us."
Tsuzuki probed them with his spiritual sense. The buckles were imbued with the same power as barrier fuda, absorbing the energy emitted by his hands. "I don't want my powers restrained. Take them off."
"You are not ready yet. Much as I enjoyed our first night together, I have no intention of re-enacting its farcical conclusion. If I am to be unconscious with you in my bed, let it be from sexual exhaustion, not a knockout spell or spontaneous attack."
Tsuzuki lowered his gaze, incensed with himself. He wouldn't be able to remove them until he returned to Meifu...unless he persuaded Muraki to break the spell.
"But how can I feel you with gloved hands? For two nights, I've been unable to feel your hair, your skin...your scars." A husky note crept into his voice - it wasn't exactly a lie.
Muraki's gaze softened. "You want to touch me so much?"
Tsuzuki nodded. He brushed the silver strands from Muraki's forehead, and traced the graceful arch of his brow. "Each time you touch me, I long to touch you back." He touched the high prominence of his cheekbone, the curve of his earlobe, the angle of his jaw. "Each kiss, each bite, each scratch you inflict - I long to do it all to you." His nails curled into the soft skin beneath Muraki's jaw. "Please...take off the gloves. Let me feel what you feel."
Muraki kissed the fingertips. "You plead so prettily with your beseeching violet eyes. Now I understand how you manipulate others to do your bidding." Suddenly he pushed Tsuzuki on his back and rolled on top. "Tell me then, what do you long for when you feel me inside you?" He rocked his hips against Tsuzuki's. "What do you long for...when you let me fuck you?"
"I...I long..." Tsuzuki moaned at the exquisite friction. His legs parted to accommodate Muraki's thrusts.
With elbows resting on either side to support his weight, Muraki gazed down at him, powerful shoulders hunched. "You long...for what?" He began to move faster, harder. "Tell me."
"Ahh..." Jolts of pleasure emanated from the friction, rippling along Tsuzuki's overwrought senses. He grasped Muraki by the shoulders, and rocked in time with him.
"I want...an answer." Muraki ground his hips against Tsuzuki, cock against cock.
Tsuzuki shook his head. Thinking of a coherent reply was impossible. He trembled as Muraki slid his cock between his thighs, the slick head rubbing against his balls and the delicate perineal flesh. "Please..." His nails curled into the broad shoulder blades, now damp with sweat - a small punishment in exchange for this exquisite torture.
"Answer me."
Tsuzuki lifted his head to bury his lips against the pale shoulder, biting and kissing - a wordless answer of his own. He attacked one nipple with the same ferocity when Muraki reached for the bottle of lotion on the nightstand, deliberately mimicking Muraki's earlier actions.
"You are...a fast learner," Muraki murmured. He kissed Tsuzuki hard, biting his lips in retaliation. "But you are in danger...of presuming too much." He slid his lubricated fingers between them. "Lift your hips. I will show you what your body truly wants."
Tsuzuki gasped as Muraki prepared him. His cock ached, stiffening in response to Muraki's seductive massaging strokes.
"I brought this from the bathroom. I planned to wake you like this - your body singing with the pleasure of my possession - but you ruined my plans with your little fire display." He watched Tsuzuki's helpless reaction with clinical detachment. "See? You want me inside you - there is no need to be ashamed."
Tsuzuki couldn't speak. He gripped the rumpled sheets as Muraki's touch wove a different spell over him. A hoarse cry left his lips as jolts of pleasure vibrated through his body.
"So responsive...a single touch sets you alight." Muraki withdrew his fingers, his own breathing unsteady, his gaze remote. "Now tell me what you want. Tell me what you long for."
"You..." The word left him as a rasp. "I want you in me...and around me. I want everything, Muraki."
"Really?" Muraki's glittering gaze moved over him, lingering with insolent intent over his parted thighs and untended erection. "Look at yourself!"
"Please...don't be afraid..." Tsuzuki held out his arms. "Let me show you...as you showed me. If you want to feed-"
"Quiet." Muraki seized one wrist and yanked him to a sitting position. When Tsuzuki tried to embrace him, he shook him off and pulled him to one of the wooden bedposts at the end of the bed. "Get on your knees. Hold this."
It wasn't quite what Tsuzuki wanted, but the rough urgency of Muraki's voice echoed Tsuzuki's own lust, compelling him to obey. His physical need was too immediate. They could continue their argument later, but the hunger within him clamoured for fulfilment now.
Muraki knelt behind him, between his legs. Grasping Tsuzuki around the chest and hip, he slid his cock along the cleft of Tsuzuki's ass.
Tsuzuki shut his eyes and rested against Muraki's torso. "Mmm..."
"Now tell me what you want," Muraki growled against his ear. He stroked Tsuzuki from chest to hip with one hand, moulding the shifting muscles beneath his palms. The other hand rested on his hip, nails scratching as he tried to restrain Tsuzuki's movements.
So close. Tsuzuki whimpered, his head half-lolling on Muraki's shoulder, grateful for the supporting weight. His muscles twitched as Muraki slid tantalisingly close to entering him. "I already told you."
"But right now - this very minute - you want me to fuck you, ne?" Muraki's voice was husky and thick, his breath hot against Tsuzuki's ear. "Your body pleads for my touch well enough." He exhaled sharply as Tsuzuki ground himself against him. "Maybe too well. I've never met anyone so insatiable...so perfectly attuned to my own appetites." He tilted Tsuzuki's hips forward, and slid slowly inside.
So hard, so hot...
So perfect.
Tsuzuki trembled, his muscles relaxing around Muraki, welcoming him deeper. His face was flushed, lips parted. Sweat dewed his brow and across his chest. His fingers clutched the carved wooden post like a lifeline, and a growl left his throat as Muraki found his prostate. A sizzling jolt of ecstasy went off inside him, making his cock arrow up to attention."There," Muraki whispered against his ear. He remained where he was, his erection buried to the hilt. "Remember this - how good this feels." He pressed biting kisses along Tsuzuki's sweat-damp neck. "This is how we are meant to be together, ne?"
Tsuzuki wasn't in a position to disagree. His muscles rippled along Muraki's length, impatient to make up for what it was denied last night. His entire body was as taut as a bow - his thighs tensed in anticipation, his shoulders hunched as he clung to the varnished post. He was grateful for its cool unyielding surface - a welcome contrast to the furnace-heat of Muraki's body enveloping him from behind, and filling him from within.
The grey cat, which had been patiently watching from the nightstand, leapt to the floor. With tail twitching, it prowled to the center of the room where the sunlight fell on the carpet. It lay down in a patch of sunlight, directly in their range of vision.
Sunlight...morning. Distractedly, Tsuzuki glanced at his right wrist. He wasn't wearing his watch - he remembered he removed it the night before. The incision was gone - his colleagues at Meifu would see nothing when he returned to work.
His secret was safe. And - for the moment - so was his nemesis.
Muraki squeezed Tsuzuki's nipple, bringing his attention to more immediate needs. "Focus on me. Focus on this." He twisted his hips slightly, setting off another twinge of pleasure inside him. "Are you ready for more, Tsuzuki-san?"
Tsuzuki swallowed and rubbed his cheek againt Muraki's, a wordless plea of his own.
"Let's do it."
And he did, sliding out until only the head of his cock remained inside, then slamming forward to fill Tsuzuki completely. Before Tsuzuki could accustom himself to the fullness, Muraki withdrew. Before he could beg, Muraki drove into him. His rhythm was fierce and relentless as he pounded Tsuzuki with an intensity he had never known before.
Pleasure-pain reverberated through Tsuzuki's body, aftershocks emanating from his prostate that left him panting for breath. His ass ached, a dull pain that seemed to heighten the sweetness evoked inside him. Only his grip on the ornate turnings of the bedpost kept him upright - he was jerked back and forth, trapped between the post and Muraki's driving hips in a tug-of-war from which there was no escape.
Not that he wanted to leave. Nothing else made him feel so...alive. So human.
Enslaved by Muraki's ravenous hunger, he had little choice but to endure the near-violent ecstasy.
So Tsuzuki did - again and again. The almost-withdrawal so stark, and the fullness so brutally sweet it took his breath away.
Muraki's hands were just as demanding. One hand remained on his hip to hold him in place, while the other roamed over his heaving chest and pebble-hard nipples, moulding him like a sculptor with clay, seeking to refashion his flesh into a different form.
Keeping up with Muraki was beyond him. With nerve-endings firing shots of pleasure at irregular intervals, there was no room to adapt or adjust. His thighs and biceps trembled with every thrust, flushed and gleaming with sweat in the morning sunlight. His erect cock ached with the most delicious agony as it bobbed in time to Muraki's insistent fucking. Gasping moans left his throat - he was too breathless to speak.
The creak of the wooden frame, the wet sounds of their flesh meeting and separating in intimate ceaseless motion - sounds which said all that needed to be said.
From its seat on the carpet, the cat stood up and let out a plaintive meow.
Muraki growled. He pulled Tsuzuki close, forcing him to recline against his chest. He kept his cock deep inside Tsuzuki, never moving far from his prostate. The stroking was persistent and sure - yet infused with a gentleness that sent waves of liquid pleasure through Tsuzuki's body.
Tsuzuki sighed. He eased his hold over the bedpost. His bones melted against the heat of Muraki's body. He learned to anticipate the rhythm of Muraki's thrusts and to respond with delicious contractions of his own. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, allowing his dark hair to spill over Muraki's shoulder. Against such seductive persuasion, his supernatural powers and shikigami were useless.
"Perfect...so perfect." Muraki's voice was husky and thick, with a trace of wonder. "Your body accommodates my every whim - it's like an extension of my own." He shivered as Tsuzuki squeezed him, and retaliated by biting the side of his neck.
Tsuzuki arched against him, sinuous grace in motion as he writhed against the pain. His muscles rippled around Muraki once more.
The cat stepped closer and meowed again.
"My possession pleases you, ne?" Muraki's nails bit into the slight swell of pectoral muscle, sharp as thorns. "I long to please you so much. It's the only purpose of my existence."
Even through the haze of desire, the words made Tsuzuki uneasy. "Muraki..."
"I sound like a concubine begging for her master," Muraki chuckled without humour. "Ahh...the irony." Muraki gripped Tsuzuki's cock and began to stroke with the same languid pace. "But I mean every word. Please...come for me. Show me your true form."
"Muraki..." Tsuzuki arched his hips into the touch, his cock jerking and lengthening in Muraki's hand. His entire body vibrated with renewed excitement. "Are you...sure..." He broke off with a groan as Muraki's thrusts picked up pace.
"I can't get...enough of you."
Tsuzuki's fingers clenched the ornate turnings of the bedpost once more. Stroked and fucked...he simply didn't have the willpower to resist.
The cat yowled at them, tail lashing in agitation. It clawed the bedpost until it stood on its hind legs.
"Ignore it."
Tsuzuki craned his neck to look at Muraki's face. The grim set of his brow, the flat line of his mouth, the clenched jaw, his pallor - he looked more like a torture victim than a man in the grip of ecstacy. His silver hair shone white in the sunlight.
Baring its fangs, the cat yowled.
"Silence!" Muraki snarled.
The cat hissed, and yowled at Tsuzuki instead.
"Muraki...what is it saying?" He reached one hand up to clasp Muraki's head - his lips were playing with a sensitive spot behind his ear.
"Nothing...of importance."
The cat yowled again and again, its head moving from side to side. The tips of its grey fur caught the sunlight to become pure gleaming white.
"It...it wants us to stop..." He pushed his head against Muraki's cheek, denying him access. His gaze caught sight of the charmed steel buckle, now gleaming white in the sun as well.
The cat, the buckles of the gloves, Muraki himself - all imbued with white light. The same white light from Muraki's eye that appeared in the battle with Saagatanus. And in his dream - the spiral and its twelve points that preceded the garden's destruction...
Immeasurable light...
"No more." Tsuzuki tightened his grip in Muraki's hair. "We must stop."
"Focus on yourself," Muraki muttered. His hand stroked faster along the shaft. "The power within you - let it out."
"Don't." Tsuzuki shook his head, trying to shake off the pleasure. He gripped Muraki's wrist. "You're overreaching yourself."
"I don't care!" Muraki clawed his chest. "I have to do this!"
Tsuzuki hissed. "I said enough!" He swung around to elbow Muraki across the jaw, then scrambled free from the bed. He grabbed his black trenchcoat from the floor to cover himself.
"Tsuzuki-san." Muraki lay sprawled on the bed, chest heaving, jaw clenched, too exhausted to move. "You dare...deny me? You dare...deny your destiny? How long...do you think you can hide?"
Tsuzuki turned away, hugging himself. His chest still bled from the cuts. His cock throbbed at attention. His insides twisted with frustrated desire, sending a wave of nausea through him. The sudden deprivation of Muraki's touch was just short of physical agony. "We can't do this anymore." Awkwardly he pulled on his trousers and shirt, and grabbed his trenchcoat from the floor. In his haste, a couple of fuda fell out. "I have to return to Meifu. I must be late already."
Muraki held out his hand. "Come to bed. I will finish what I started, for better or worse."
The cat hissed at him.
"You be silent!"
Lifting its head high, the creature replied by whipping its tail around and stalking towards Tsuzuki instead.
Tsuzuki buttoned his coat. "Do you remember what you said when it jumped on my back? You said it was thinking of me." He looked down at it. "Maybe this time it was thinking of you."
The feline rubbed its head against Tsuzuki's legs and purred.
Muraki watched, his lip curling in disgust. "Truly you are a traitor."
Tsuzuki stepped away from it and picked up his watch from the nightstand. "You don't mean that. It is not so foolish as to forget the one who has given it shelter and sustenance."
Muraki was silent. He looked at Tsuzuki, his eyes narrowed.
Tsuzuki lowered his gaze. The signs had been there all along - but he'd been so busy looking for other possibilities instead of seeing the one that was right in front of him. "Take care of yourself. Eat breakfast, drink lots of water. You should relax while you're on holiday."
"What time will you come to me?" Muraki asked impatiently.
"I don't know. There are some things I need to do first."
Muraki sat up and swung his feet to the floor. "You must come early so we can have dinner. It was remiss of me not to feed you last night."
Tsuzuki flushed. He hadn't felt hungry last night. He had fed in other ways in Muraki's bed. "I...I'll do my best."
Muraki stood up, unashamed in his nudity, his cock still erect. "Good. I will wait for you in my apartment...just like this. We will pick up from where we left off."
Tsuzuki took a couple of steps back. "If I see you like that, I'm going back to Meifu! There is no way we can keep doing this, idiot! You're squandering what energy you have left!"
Muraki shrugged. "If this is to be the death of me, so be it."
"Not if I have anything to do with it. Only JuOhCho through the Kiseki has jurisdiction over human lives. No demon is allowed to take human life in violation of the Kiseki - not even yours."
Muraki suddenly smiled and pulled Tsuzuki into his arms. "So you come to protect me? How adorable of you."
"Muraki! Get off! Get-"
Muraki's mouth silenced the rest of his words. His tongue snaked inside Tsuzuki's mouth, his teeth drew blood. Tsuzuki yanked at his hair until Muraki gave him breathing space.
"Come to bed," he growled against Tsuzuki's forehead. "Your body craves mine - I can feel it."
"Goodbye, Muraki."
"Tsuzuki-san-"
Muraki was left clutching empty air. He sighed. These abrupt disappearances were becoming a bad habit.
The cat scrabbled at one of the fuda, shredding it with its claws.
"Having fun, are we?"
The feline lashed its tail and yowled, then continued scratching. When it was satisfied, it rolled on its back, legs in the air, writhing against the shredded fuda.
Muraki picked up his creased shirt and trousers from the floor. He should have brought a change of clothes. These clothes needed to be laundered before he could wear them again. He wore the yukata instead, then picked up the phone to order dry cleaning and breakfast.
Tsuzuki-san had ordered him to eat. If that was his will, it would be done.
The bloodstains on the other fuda caught his eye. He seized it up, placed it between index and middle finger and waved it in the air. When nothing happened, he inhaled its fragrance. The scent went straight to his head, making him dizzy with its distinctive aroma.
"My beautiful Tsuzuki-san," he murmured.
He crushed the fuda in his fist and brought it to his lips.
Back in his apartment in Meifu, Tsuzuki pressed a Fire attack fuda to the steel buckles. They melted like cheese against the fiery heat.
He pulled them free of the tattered velvet, and cooled them under running water. When he held them in his hands, he felt nothing magical within them. Muraki's spell must have been weak to start with.
He placed them in a drawer with a couple of attack fuda, just in case.
Fine silver hairs clung to the remaining velvet. Tsuzuki placed each strand in a small plastic bag, taking care not to touch the roots.
Watari often boasted about his extensive knowledge of multiple scientific disciplines.
Tsuzuki just hoped tissue histology was one of them.
Hisoka was in the office reading when Tsuzuki turned up for work.
"Good morning, Hisoka! So you found that book Tatsumi recommended?"
"Yeah." Hisoka shut the book. "It's 10 o'clock. I thought you were going to start coming in on time."
"I slept in again." Tsuzuki laughed sheepishly. "I'm getting too old to keep working. Don't let my physical form fool you - inside everything is slowing down. It's a miracle I even find my way here."
Hisoka snorted. "Your sense of direction is atrocious."
Tsuzuki grinned as he glanced at the empty in-tray on Hisoka's desk. "It's so nice to have a lull in our workload." He put his feet up on his empty desk and rested his hands behind his head. "We must enjoy it while it lasts."
"Chief Konoe was here half an hour ago. He was looking for you."
"Oh?" Tsuzuki put his feet down at once. "So we have a new case?"
"I don't think so - he would have said something to me about it."
"I see." He knew this was coming, but he didn't know news travelled so fast between the Demon World and Meifu. "Well, I better go find him. You keep up the reading. Later I want to see a demonstration of what you've learnt so far."
"Tsuzuki?"
"What?"
"If...if there's something troubling you, and you need someone to talk to...then I'm always here." He looked up at Tsuzuki, green eyes wide.
Tsuzuki's smile was wistful. "Thank you, Hisoka."
Hisoka shook his head angrily, refusing to be placated. "Even if you lose track of the time and forget the library rules and get lost travelling to work, at least remember I'm your partner!" He turned away from Tsuzuki to look out the window.
Tsuzuki said nothing for a long moment. He didn't know how to explain his relationship with Muraki - he didn't fully understand it himself. And Muraki's objectives were still clouded in so much mystery and confusion. But he did know that he wanted to spare Hisoka the ugly truth for as long as possible. "I'll do my best to remember that." He squeezed Hisoka's shoulder as he walked past him out the door.
"You're very good at it now."
Tsuzuki turned, on the verge of closing the door. "Good at what?"
"Hiding your feelings. I can't feel anything at all."
Konoe leaned his elbows on the desk, his fingers interlaced in front of him. "Grand Duke Saagatanus is lost to the Demon World. Grand Duke Ashitarote has written a letter demanding an explanation from EnmaDaiOh. All the Cho heads are up in arms about it."
Tsuzuki lounged back in his chair. "Why is a missing demon our problem? Can't Duke Ashitarote maintain discipline over his own subordinates? Maybe Saagatanus has deserted his duties to make a new contract with another victim."
"He isn't missing. What's left of him has been located over the Tsushima Strait and the Korean Peninsula. From the weather conditions, they suspect he met his end in Kyushu."
"So they want us to investigate the loss of a demon, is that it?" Tsuzuki sat up and straightened his shoulders, his hands clenching into fists. "The sheer gall of their request! Have they forgotten how Saaga breached our defence ward to interfere in the lives of Hijiri and the Otonashi family? What he did was unconscionable! Otonashi Kazusa died because of him! She was only a girl, Konoe! Was it her fault she could see the true form of demons?"
Konoe was unmoved. "Did you do it, Tsuzuki?"
"Do what?"
"Are you responsible for what happened to Saagatanus?"
"No." It was true - as far as he was concerned.
Konoe remained silent, waiting.
"How could I harm the Brigade Commander of the Demon World? Have you forgotten the outcome of my encounter with him?" Tsuzuki challenged. "I was the one who was possessed by Saagatanus! I was his 'lamb' - the one who had the 'honour' of bearing his mark. He used me! He used my shikigami!"
You are here to face punishment for your crimes. As you have done to others, so we shall do to you.
Muraki was the first person to give voice - and action - to his long-suppressed feelings. He was the first who seemed to understand the enormity of what Saagatanus had done to him.
Tsuzuki swallowed, ashamed of his outburst. He saw blood ooze from his hand - his nails were digging into his palm. "Sorry."
"I understand, Tsuzuki." Konoe poured tea in his cup, then filled his own. "I haven't forgiven him either. But you must remember you expelled Saagatanus yourself. You thwarted his plans in the end."
Tsuzuki looked into the golden liquid, lost in thought. "Did I? I don't remember how I did it. And Kazusa still died because of her ability to see his true form." A thought occurred to him. "What happened to her? Was Meifu able to utilise her talent? I was hoping we'd see her again at the Shoukanka."
"She had no reason to be a shinigami - there was nothing tying her to the world of the living. JuOhCho decreed that she should pass on."
"So her gift was lost along with her." How odd - JuOhCho were usually keen to take on new personnel with unusual spiritual abilities. Surely Kazusa's gift would have been invaluable in their line of work. Wasn't that the reason Saagatanus had pursued her in the first place - to prevent Meifu from using her to combat other demons? "So Saaga's fear was unfounded. He caused all that chaos and destruction for nothing."
"Tsuzuki, listen. I personally can understand your antipathy for Saagatanus - I share it as well. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted revenge. But as a Shinigami working for EnmaDaiOh, we have no jurisdiction over demons. Our powers are granted to us as instruments of JuOhCho, not for our own-"
"It wasn't me, Chief."
Konoe's gaze was searching. "Are you sure?"
"Much as I'd like to, I can't claim credit for Saaga's destruction." Tsuzuki put the cup down before his trembling fingers gave him away. "If I knew how to obliterate a demon's energy to kingdom come, I would have done it to Saagatanus years ago."
Konoe's craggy features were as hard and unmoving as rock. "You can be honest with me, Tsuzuki."
"My shikigami aren't capable of this. They only transform physical forms to their purest energy - after their attack, Saagatanus would be able to regain his form when he returned to the Demon World. Shikigami do not disperse energy. Increasing the level of entropy in any of the worlds is anathema to them."
"Not even for you? Suzaku violated your command once."
Tsuzuki bowed his head. "Suzaku Nee-san is hot-headed like the Fire she carries within her. But even she wouldn't leave disordered energy in her wake. None of them would. They fear chaos above all else."
"Very well," Konoe said quietly. He sipped his tea. "Then who is responsible? What do I tell EnmaDaiOh and Duke Ashitarote?"
Tsuzuki sipped his tea. "Tell Duke Ashitarote to look among his own kind for the answer."
"His own kind? But this would be in defiance of Duke Ashitarote's authority." Konoe lifted his bushy brows. "This is a serious claim. Do you think this is part of an internal uprising within the demon hierarchy?"
"I don't know, Chief. I'm just speculating."
"Being creatures of energy, demons cannot die as we know it. If demons could destroy each other, they would have incinerated themselves extinct aeons ago through infighting. But this is a first - the closest approximation to death for a demon. No wonder they are in a panic. The letter to EnmaDaiOh indicates how seriously they take this situation - they hardly ever inform us of their affairs. I doubt this is an internal revolt."
Tsuzuki rested his chin in one hand. Konoe's words were true for the demons they had encountered previously. But a demon who attacked with Water and sought sexual favours from a Shinigami instead of a fight...
Trust Muraki to defy the stereotype.
"Maybe there are demons who know how to attack with elements other than Fire."
Konoe frowned. "Demons are Fire-dependent by definition, Tsuzuki. Their hunger for fuel to maintain their flames is what makes them prey on humans." Konoe stroked his chin, a speculative look in his eye. "You know something." It was a statement, not a question.
"I know as much as you do," Tsuzuki replied. "It makes no sense to me either." And I was the one who witnessed it.
"I see." Konoe said. He sipped his tea.
Tsuzuki did the same. "May I ask a question, Chief?"
Konoe paused, his cup held midway from his lips. "Yes, Tsuzuki?"
"Why haven't we conducted a proper investigation into Muraki Kazutaka? He's challenged the JuOhCho proceedings so many times, killed so many people in violation of the Kiseki, and we let him get away with it every time. Why is that?"
"It is not our job to judge our masters, Tsuzuki," Konoe replied curtly.
"But why aren't we looking for the underlying motivation for his actions? It makes no sense!" He looked at Konoe, brow furrowed in concentration. "There's something in his eye - something similar to the contract Hijiri had on his cornea. Could it be he's made some kind of pact-"
"He's a meddling human with an advanced knowledge of demonology, nothing more. He'll receive his judgement like everyone else when the time comes."
"I can't believe you're saying this. You're willing to turn a blind eye-"
"I receive my orders from EnmaDaiOh, just like you." Konoe took another sip of tea. "The tug of the leash only becomes tighter the more one resists."
Tsuzuki covered his mouth, his eyes narrowed. "Chief..."
"You have been given considerable leeway by the administration, Tsuzuki. Your leash remains lax as long as you stay within its reach." His gaze was bleak as he eyed Tsuzuki. "Believe me, you would not want to bring down their wrath."
Had Konoe challenged a summons from JuOhCho...perhaps an order from EnmaDaiOh himself? Tsuzuki never knew - the Chief rarely spoke of his time as an active Shinigami. Like everyone who worked in the Shoukanka, he kept his personal history very much to himself. Tsuzuki had known him for decades, but he knew nothing that mattered about his superior.
Then again, he'd never asked. He was too busy wrestling with his own guilt-ridden past.
"I'll keep that in mind, Chief." Tsuzuki drank the rest of the tea in one gulp, ignoring how it burned his throat. "So, is the Shoukanka going to start investigating demon deaths too?"
"No. If you believe a fellow demon was responsible for this incident, I will pass that statement on to EnmaDaiOh."
Tsuzuki dared to look up. He had been given a reprieve - for the time being. "Thank you, Chief. Is that all?"
"It's best that you forget about Muraki. As long as there are no new suspicious deaths, he is of no interest to us."