Thanks to Gengkotsuya and Amethyst Hunter for their help. A big thanks to those who've posted reviews and comments - I appreciate your suggestions and encouragement very much! It gets harder to keep track of a big story, especially one as long as this, so I'm grateful for any opinions and advice. Like a weed, the story just keeps growing and growing...

Please visit my site for a couple of lovely artworks: Carolinegr has done a summery colour crayon artwork of Muraki and his cat; Mikata Lian has done an erotic pencil sketch of Muraki, Tsuzuki and the cat.

In the Hall of Candles, the home of the mysterious Hakushaku, the housekeeping was never finished.

As butler, valet, messenger and all-round dogsbody, Watson had the onerous task of ensuring the premises were in pristine condition. Despite visitors seldom venturing on this hallowed ground, Hakushaku insisted that every room be ready for use at a moment's notice. So each hallway, foyer and reception area had to be swept and vacuumed; rooms filled with opulent furnishings needed to be dusted and aired; heavy curtains pushed aside to let in the sunlight and windows opened to circulate the air.

The candle room required the most attention of all. The size of a ballroom, this windowless room housed the majority of candles in the mansion. Millions of white tapered candles were mounted on wall holders; hung from massive chandeliers; and were scattered on the floor, over the elaborate sweeping staircase, and tucked in the recessed alcoves beneath the ceiling. The new candles were tall and burned brightly, their sides unmarked by dripping wax, their wicks short and neat. The oldest candles were a puddle of wax, their blackened wicks holding the tiniest glow of life.

Watson spent hours in this room every day scraping melted wax from the marble floor. He never touched the candles themselves. Even when candles were snuffed out, he left them as they were for his master to find in the morning. Only Hakushaku was allowed to interfere with the candles. Depending on his whim, he could blow out a brilliant flame or tend the wick of a feeble ember.

Tonight Hakushaku was engrossed in the latest story whipped up by the library caretaker. Alone in the candle room, dressed in a frilly cap and matching apron, Watson quietly scrubbed the wax from the floor. By candlelight his skull-like head was given a warm ambient glow, softening the ugliness of crooked teeth and the crumbling tissue covering one eyesocket.

He was the only one present to witness a most unusual event.

At the far end of the room, a plume of flame erupted several feet high to lick the ceiling, as bright as a blowtorch. It came from a single candle at the far end of the room. All the candles flickered and dimmed as one, as if this single flame deprived the entire room of life-giving oxygen. From behind his trembling hands, Watson saw the colour - brilliant white with a centre of deep violet.

He stumbled to his feet and ran for help.

He found Hakushaku lounging in the library. His white mask hovered over a book clasped between wrist-length white gloves.

"Hakushaku-sama..." he croaked between gasps.

"Watson?" The book lowered a fraction. "I hope this is important. I gave orders not to be disturbed."

Watson bowed. "Forgive me...but one of the candles...there's a fire..."

The book snapped shut and swooped down to the chair. "Show me."

They entered down the staircase; Hakushaku silent except for the brush of his glove against the bannister, Watson hopping down one step at a time to keep up with him.

The brilliant flame was gone. Warm light from the millions of candles illuminated the room.

"But I saw it, Hakushaku-sama."

"Which one was it?"

Watson pointed at the mantelpiece. "Somewhere here, Hakushaku-sama."

Hakushaku inspected the candles on the mantelpiece. His mask reflected the firelight, giving it a cast of burnished gold. "Watson, you disturbed me at a most inopportune time. I was reading a most exciting scene in my latest novel."

"Forgive me, Hakushaku-sama."

"An excellent swashbuckling seafaring adventure no less. Having been rescued from an island of man-eating savages, the beautiful heroine was about to show her gratitude to the dashing and handsome pirate in the privacy of his quarters." Hakushaku's sigh made the flames flicker a little. "So grateful she was, too."

Watson kept a tactful silence.

"Watson, it would annoy me a great deal if I were summoned here for a trivial matter. You do understand, don't you?"

Watson wished he could make himself smaller than he already was. "Yes, Hakushaku-sama."

"Very good. You have served me well in the past..." Hakushaku's mask moved closer to the mantelpiece. "And I see you continue to do so." His gloved hands reached out to pick up a candle - a little wider than the rest and only an inch high. A pool of melted wax surrounded the thin violet-white flame burning in the centre. "Is this it?"

"Yes, Hakushaku-sama! The same colour, but the flame was bigger, much bigger."

"I believe you, Watson. A most unusual and beautiful colour, ne? I never thought I'd see the day." Hakushaku clicked his tongue in disapproval as he brought it to eye level. "Look at it. The flame is tunnelling through the middle instead of burning out to the edges. It will drown in its wax if it keeps this up. Silly child."

"What should we do, Hakushaku-sama?"

"Let us find another place for it. I'm not sure it will last longer in spite of our efforts, but a different environment may prolong the burn time. Then you must convey an urgent message to EnmaDaiOh."

"I must go tonight, Hakushaku-sama? DaiOh-sama will be resting at this hour--"

"All the more reason to annoy him," Hakushaku replied breezily. "He will want to be informed of this new development."

With a permanent grimace on his face, Watson couldn't look unhappier than he felt at the prospect of visiting EnmaCho's most securely fortified area in the dead of night.

In the lounge room of Muraki's apartment, Tsuzuki faced a dilemma of his own. "Muraki...enough."

"Tsuzuki-san..."

"You got what you wanted."

"Never enough. I have years of deprivation to make up for, ne? Years...and years..."

Hot lips against his throat tickled and burned. Tsuzuki gritted his teeth against the thrill of pleasure, and damned himself for being so receptive to Muraki's touch. He'd only come minutes ago, yet his body stirred with arousal once more.

"Stop!" Tsuzuki yanked at Muraki's hair. "You pervert...maniac..."

"So?" Muraki shoved him against the wall and kissed him.

Tsuzuki clenched his jaw shut. Sharp teeth bit his lips until they parted. Muraki's tongue slithered inside his mouth, curled against his palate and tongue. Repulsed, Tsuzuki shook his head.

Muraki growled. He grasped Tsuzuki's head so he couldn't move away and angled his jaw up to deepen the kiss.

Tsuzuki wanted to gag. With his jaw forced apart, he couldn't bite Muraki back. He tried to bar entry with his tongue instead, but it was a losing battle. The insistent wet caress of Muraki's tongue disgusted him yet made him shiver - he could taste the metallic flavour of blood mixed with the musky bitterness of his own semen.

Saliva filled his mouth. The taste was changing during their kiss. The bitterness dissolved into a tantalising sweetness. Muraki's tongue continued to slide against his, encouraging him to reciprocate. Tsuzuki swallowed once, then a second time. The sweetness lingered on the back of his tongue, rich and heady like fine liqueur. Tentatively he caressed Muraki's tongue with his own, curious in spite of himself.

"Now you understand. No wonder demons and shikigami and humans alike are attracted to you." Muraki's breathing was ragged as he kissed Tsuzuki's forehead. "Your body and blood are truly delicious."

Tsuzuki licked his lips, a little dazed himself. "Is that what I taste like?"

Muraki nodded. "You are the source of the richest nectar, the last remaining fruit in this barren wasteland." He lowered his head to nuzzle Tsuzuki's ear. "There is much pleasure to be found in release - especially for one who has gone without for so long. Now we must capitalise on this breakthrough. For so long I have waited--"

"No." Tsuzuki put some space between them. "We need to talk. The yakuza, your covenant - tell me what's going on."

"The seal is cracking - there is no turning back. We will tear off the blindfold and cast away the chains. You cannot hide any longer." He tugged at the silver bracelet as if it chafed him. "I will prove my worthiness this time."

"Leave it on." Tsuzuki grasped his wrist, pressing the cold metal into his flesh. "You need the bracelet's Metal energy...and Water too..." He pushed past Muraki and stumbled to the coffee table. The motion-sensitive lights lit up the room, making him blink.

On the floor, the cat scrabbled with the lighter. When it skidded under the table, it dived after it.

Tsuzuki picked up the box with the mother-of-pearl cufflinks. "Put these on."

Muraki frowned at it.

Tsuzuki tore the wrapping off. "The bracelet isn't enough. You're losing Water and Metal energy--"

"Wrong," Muraki said flatly. He twisted the bracelet, uneasy with its weight. "You summoned Water on your own. All I did was nourish the Water within you to remind you of the legacy you have long forgotten."

Muraki's subdued tone made Tsuzuki uneasy. "But the elements I work best with are Fire and Earth. I chose them when I began training to be a shinigami. Water isn't one of my elements."

"Who told you such a lie?"

"It's not a lie. I've never undergone training in using Water."

Muraki shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and draped it over the back of the sofa. "Do you not have Water type shikigami under your command? Are you not compatible with shikigami from all four elements?" He removed his shoulder holster then loosened his bow tie.

"Well, yes...but that's because I befriended them first. To summon a shikigami you need more than energy compatibility. So many people fall into the trap of thinking they must defeat a shikigami in battle to prove their strength. But shikigami have feelings. You have to forge a bond, establish mutual trust with them. It's all about building a friendship."

"A friendship?" Muraki drawled mockingly. "How nice."

"Say what you like. It's worked for me." Tsuzuki pulled out the cufflinks. "Here. I want you to wear these."

Muraki picked them up and casually threw them in the cat's direction. It yowled and scrambled up on the sofa.

"Muraki!"

"I already told you - I don't need it."

Tsuzuki swore to himself as he bent down to look for them. "You're the most ungrateful, pig-headed..." One cufflink was under the sofa, the other next to the lighter. When he picked it up, the cat pounced on the lighter and hissed loudly to stake its claim.

"Building a friendship?" Muraki sneered. He went to the window. "An idea worthy of a naive simpleton. Of all the ways to prove oneself--"

He caught sight of Tsuzuki and the cat in the window's reflection. Squatting on the floor, Tsuzuki waved one of the cufflinks above the creature's head. When it hissed and reared up to scratch him, Tsuzuki lifted his hand out of reach.

Muraki stroked his chin, his expression thoughtful. He turned around. "Tsuzuki-san, if you are so fond of childish games, I will do my best to indulge you. Come to me."

Tsuzuki stood up. "Shut up and wear the cufflinks." He strode to Muraki and held them out again. "I'm trying to help you. You're Metal and Water deficient thanks to your stupid demonic covenant."

"I am deficient because you partake freely of me yet hoard your essence like a miser!" He yanked Tsuzuki close. "You mistreat me with your cruelty and carelessness, therefore you bear equal responsibility for my condition!" He began to pull at Tsuzuki's tie.

"Dammit Muraki!" Tsuzuki wrenched at roving hands. The cufflinks fell to the floor. "Is this all you think about?"

Muraki dragged his jacket from his shoulder. "First we must unveil your illuminating brilliance." His mouth burned as he bit into the side of Tsuzuki's throat.

"No." Fear coiled within Tsuzuki. Muraki was the light bearer, not him.

"I offer my wretched body in humble worship." He pulled Tsuzuki with him to the window with its view of the Nagasaki. "Let everyone in the city bear witness to your true form."

"Shut up! You keep talking the same garbage..." Burning pain sizzled down Tsuzuki's shoulder blades. So much for orgasm ending this torment - another of Muraki's many lies. "We have to break the covenant! Tell me the demon's name!"

"You are the source of life..." Muraki pushed him against the window, "...that brings light into the world."

"I need the name!" He shoved uselessly at Muraki's chest. He recalled his fuda double, pinned in the same position three nights ago, and its helpless submission to Muraki's lust. It was a foreshadowing of his surrender tonight - and every night he came to Nagasaki. All his resolve and willpower kept crumbling to dust.

"Reveal yourself to me, and you will remember." Muraki seized his wrists and pinned them against the cold glass. His false eye lit up behind his silver bangs. "Look and find the answer you seek."

Piercing rays of light blinded him, so bright he felt they stabbed into his brain. Not again. He had to resist. He had to fight.

Tsuzuki scrunched his eyes shut. He cast the vanishing spell.

Muraki overbalanced and hit the window with a thud.

Tsuzuki repositioned himself on the other side the room, cloaked by invisibility. He felt no triumph - only the heart-pounding relief at a narrow escape.

Muraki hissed and whirled around. "You coward!" His furious gaze scoured the room. "You resort to trickery once more. All your life and afterlife you've been running - a century's worth of cowardice! Even after our last encounter in Kyoto, you cower in fear like a child!" He yanked off his tie, unhooked his cummerbund, and ripped at the buttons of his dress shirt.

Tsuzuki looked away, hands clenched in fists.

"Did you not resist my attempt to crush your spirit with guilt? Did you not choose to acknowledge your past and accept your destiny?" He pulled the shirt off to reveal the scars curling around his waist and torso. "Behold the evidence - the power of Metal! You shed my blood! You purified me of sin by your own hand--"

"I didn't purify anything!" Tsuzuki paced to the other side of the room when Muraki looked his way. "You never listened to me! I tried to talk to you, and you never listened! All I wanted was for you to stop killing other people!" He hugged himself, frustrated and guilt-ridden. "You left me no choice."

Muraki looked around, trying to track Tsuzuki's voice. "You brought me new life. I was led through the cold valley of death into the warmth of your life-giving spirit."

"I'm a God of Death. I kill people - I don't save them."

"There's a first time for everything, ne? Perhaps a career change is in order."

Tsuzuki stopped pacing to stare at him. How often had he wished he could extend life - give people the opportunity to fulfil their hopes and dreams? But that wasn't the task EnmaCho had given him. Sometimes Tsuzuki knew he could work around the rules. For those who faced terminal illness, he could extend lifespan a little by appealing to Hakushaku's mercy and tolerating his lecherous advances. But in the case of sudden violent death, he could do nothing.

What use was an extension, anyway? Merely a temporary reprieve before the jaws of death devoured them whole. A spark of false hope before the flame was finally snuffed out.

Like the false hope Muraki was giving him now.

Muraki waited near the coffee table, his gaze darting about for any sign of Tsuzuki's presence. When nothing happened, he lifted his head and combed his silver hair off his brow with a restless hand.

Hidden by the invisibility spell, Tsuzuki positioned himself behind Muraki. Without a corporeal form to block the light, the lamplight flowed through him to shine over Muraki's shoulder blades and back. The scratches marking his spine were now healing scabs. Further down, they intersected with the thick scars around his narrow waist before disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers.

Tsuzuki studied them with narrowed eyes. More than human. Less than demon. Still desirable in spite of his mortal frailty.

A demon sharing the body of a human host. It was unheard of, without precedent. But a demon too weak to take proper possession may be forced to settle for this curious symbiosis. And a human like Muraki, raging at his human shortcomings, would jump at the chance to share in a demon's knowledge and power.

"I am going to take a bath. I tire of being the Oni in our game of Onigokko. You do not play by the rules." Muraki looked over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You're supposed to stop running once I've caught you."

Tsuzuki couldn't believe it.

Muraki turned around. "When you have finished with your vaudeville tricks, you are welcome to join me." He sauntered past the cat playing with the lighter. In the kitchen he took out two pillar candles, a box of matches, a bottle of red wine, a small waiter's corkscrew and a single wineglass. He carried them into the bathroom and left the door wide open.

Tsuzuki didn't move. His heart thumped in his chest. No human could see through the cloaking spell. Hell, it was good enough to fool a shinigami. It had fooled Muraki before.

It was coincidence Muraki looked his way. A lucky guess, nothing more. It had to be.

Tsuzuki sank into the sofa. Torn wrapping and boxes were strewn on the coffee table. Quietly he began to tidy up the mess. He packed the cufflinks back in its box and placed it next to the parcel containing the pen. He picked up the velvet gloves he tossed aside before. The metal clasps contained no magic. He placed them back on the table.

Inside the bathroom, he could hear Muraki taking a shower.

If Muraki spoke truth, then feeding him would also feed the demon within him. His powers would grow, along with his ability to wreak chaos and destruction.

That was the last thing Tsuzuki wanted. But he couldn't sit by and do nothing while Muraki suffered.

Neither could he deny the pleasure he found in satisfying Muraki's hunger. He enjoyed it very much. Too much.

Tsuzuki shook his head. Pleasurable or not, he shouldn't have given in. Muraki hinted that their sexual encounters involved energy transfer, so too much of this could drain Tsuzuki's own power. Tsuzuki didn't feel weak now, but perhaps he would notice effects later. More importantly, their encounters distracted him from his own goal: to break the demonic covenant.

But how? He still had no name to summon the demon forth. And what would be Muraki's fate if he succeeded? More importantly, what would be his fate if he failed?

Tsuzuki interlaced his fingers in front of him. Failure wasn't an option.

He thought of the case involving Hijiri and Saagatanus. Burning the cursed violin lured Saagatanus out, for it was the instrument the demon used to lure mortals into a contract.

The cat jumped on the table. It dropped the lighter from its mouth and meowed loudly at the empty space Tsuzuki occupied.

There was no obvious instrument in this case - only a pyrophilic cat that could see through cloaking spells, and a sex-crazed human with a glowing artificial eye. The eye Muraki preferred to keep hidden beneath his hair.

The eye! Could that be the instrument?

Tsuzuki pressed his fingers to his lips. But when he gouged it out aboard the Queen Camellia, no furious demon emerged seeking vengeance. Muraki was already under contract at the time, wasn't he? He said the contract became a covenant after the Kyoto incident. So the eye couldn't be it - although it was of demonic significance.

Tsuzuki rested his forehead in his hands. He still didn't know when Muraki first encountered the demon, or his reasons for entering into the contract. He knew nothing about how Muraki acquired the false eye...or the significance of his name written on it.

Maybe someone was trying to set him up - pin the blame for Muraki's covenant on him, and manipulate Muraki to believe it too. It sounded preposterous to Tsuzuki but he was running out of ideas. Why bring them together? What purpose could it serve?

A memory came to him: Muraki gouging out Saagatanus's eye, and the demon's subsequent destruction.

Without vision...

Eyes mattered to a demon. And Muraki was missing one of his.

The cat sat on the table, tail curled around itself. Its unblinking grey gaze never shifted from Tsuzuki's face.

Tsuzuki lifted his head. He knew what he needed: information about the false eye. There must be medical records in the hospital or clinic that performed the surgery. Maybe Muraki carried a business card of the eye specialist who treated him. Presumably he would need regular follow-up appointments.

He put on his trenchcoat, then cloaked it with the invisibility spell. Muraki's tuxedo jacket lay on the sofa. He took out the wallet from one of the pockets.

It couldn't hurt to search his personal effects for clues.

Two guards flanked the staircase leading up to the entrance of EnmaDaiOh's residence. Each held torches lit by burning flames. From a distance, they looked humanoid.

Holding a small candlestick to guide the way, Watson approached them. Humanoids he could deal with. The animal spirits were the ones he dreaded - it was trickier to avoid claws and teeth than fists and feet.

Up close he saw they weren't quite human - they each possessed the head of a bird, with a hooked beak like a bird of prey. Their shoulders were draped with long red feathers.

Watson's candlestick shook in his hand. He took small comfort in knowing they didn't have wings - at least they couldn't dive-bomb him off the premises.

One guard stepped forward. "Halt! Who goes there?"

"A servant of Hakushaku-sama." Watson put down his candlestick, knelt down and lowered his face to the ground. "Hakushaku-sama sends his warmest greetings to EnmaDaiOh-sama..."

The guard's beady eye rolled in horror. "What is this thing?" he muttered to the other guard.

"Not sure. Might have been an exceptionally ugly dwarf once."

"...he offers his deepest apologies for disturbing EnmaDaiOh-sama at this late hour..."

"Get to the point! What is your business with DaiOh-sama?"

Watson held out the sealed envelope. "I-I bear news of the utmost importance for EnmaDaiOh-sama. It-it is imperative that he receives this letter. Hakushaku-sama wrote it with his own hand..."

The guard snatched it up. "This is ridiculous! If this news is so urgent, why does Hakushaku not deliver it himself?"

"H-Hakushaku-sama...has important duties. He tends the candles..."

"Important duties? Is this the same Hakushaku-sama who does nothing but live off the generosity of DaiOh-sama? The same Hakushaku-sama who gets funding for extravagant renovations while the rest of us get by on a minimum living wage?" He eyed the seal on the back of the envelope, then tossed it to the other guard. "Open it. Let us read this 'urgent' news for ourselves."

Watson ran forward. "No! The letter is for EnmaDaiOh-sama. Only he is allowed to open it!"

The guard kicked him away. "I gave you orders to halt!"

With his disproportionately large head, Watson didn't stand a chance. He tumbled and rolled like a soccer ball along the lawn. Finally he lay gasping on the grass, his head aching but intact. He had experienced worse.

"Are you sure we should open it? It does bear the seal of Hakushaku."

"DaiOh-sama is a busy person. Our job is to protect him, whether it be from frivolous distractions or dangerous threats."

The guard broke the seal and took out a single sheet of paper. He held it to the torchlight.

"'The white rabbit sleeps, and yet he does not sleep.
He has died, and yet he is not dead.
Asleep and dead, he will rise again.'

"That's all. There's no salutation or signature."

The first guard turned on Watson. "Is this a trick? You dare to waste DaiOh-sama's time with nursery rhymes?" He lowered the torch. "You will be punished for this act of contempt! Your master too!"

Watson lifted his head, but the wave of dizziness was too much. The searing heat of the flames warmed what skin remained on his face.

The second guard screamed. The letter burst into flames that quickly spread along his entire arm. Thick black smoke swirled around him, carrying the terrible odour of burning flesh.

Horrified, the first guard rushed to help his comrade.

Watson lurched to his feet, too dazed to wonder at his narrow escape. He fled into the darkness without his candlestick. He'd seen more than enough fire for one night.

Muraki's wallet contained a lot of cash, and nothing else.

There were no credit cards; no business cards - neither his nor those belonging to other people. There were no membership cards either - the employees at the country club recognised him on sight. There wasn't a driver's licence or a hospital ID card. There were no receipts either.

Tsuzuki searched the tuxedo jacket. The apartment keys and car keys were unlabelled. The lighter was sterling silver, and didn't work. The box of cigarettes was simply that.

He unfolded Muraki's glasses and held them to the light. The left was a prescription lens - a greater power than Tsuzuki's own reading glasses. The right contained no power at all.

Presumably Muraki's false eye had 20/20 vision...when he chose to reveal it. He preferred to conceal it most of the time.

Tsuzuki frowned. Concealing the false eye seemed to defeat the purpose of having an eye implant in the first place.

Looking through the rest of Muraki's apartment drew a similar blank. He couldn't find a passport, birth certificate or any identification papers. No travel documents. He couldn't even find a book or magazine. There was no reading material at all. In his wardrobe his coats, suits, shirts and ties were neatly hung on their hangers. All pockets were empty. Even his luggage bag - in new condition - was unlabelled.

Muraki kept his possessions organised neatly. Items were sorted in drawers: ties, belts, underwear, socks. Tsuzuki examined the collection of cufflinks. The pair he had chosen wouldn't look out of place among them.

The grey cat padded after Tsuzuki. It jumped on the chest of drawers and peered inside as well.

"What's wrong with the pair I gave him?" he asked. "How are these any better?"

The cat let out a plaintive meow.

Tsuzuki realised this was one of the few times he and the cat were alone together. "What are you to him? How long have you followed him?"

Another meow was his answer.

"Would you like more gifts blessed with Fire?"

The cat tilted its head to one side.

"I can bring them to you. In return, I need names: yours and his."

The feline flattened its ears and let out a vicious hiss.

"Okay. Just his name."

Sharp claws scratched the back of his hand.

"Hey! A simple 'no' is enough!"

The nightstand drawer yielded cartridges of ammunition and three jars of lubricant. Tsuzuki felt a bit ill looking at them. He wasn't sure which thought disturbed him the most: Muraki killing again or using all that lubricant on him.

The kitchen was well stocked with utensils and cutlery, but only contained a few groceries: milk, instant coffee powder, sugar, rice, a few bottles of wine, some miso paste and tofu. He searched the tuxedo jacket one more time. No mobile phone. No address book. Muraki carried nothing that could be used to identify him or trace his whereabouts. He'd checked everywhere - barring a hidden safe - and come up empty.

Well, almost everywhere.

Tsuzuki slowly made his way to the bathroom. He didn't want to invade Muraki's personal privacy. And he wasn't interested in Muraki's offer of a shared bath.

No. Definitely not.

The feline looked at him then the lighter. After a few seconds' indecision, it chose to toy with the lighter.

Tsuzuki steeled himself for what he would find. He couldn't give in to temptation again. He could resist - he knew he could. All he needed was the willpower.

Framed by the open doorway, Muraki towelled his hair. He was completely nude from the chest down.

Tsuzuki turned his back, silently fuming. Didn't he have any sense of modesty? What kind of person paraded nude before guests - visible or not?

The sound of a striking match made Tsuzuki peek. With the towel wrapped around his hips, Muraki lit two candles then turned off the overhead lights. Soft gold light cast a warm glow over the broad planes of his torso, softening the angularity of his features. He turned on the taps of the spa bath.

Curious, Tsuzuki wandered inside. The sunken tub looked spacious for one person, but crowded for two.

Muraki sat on the bath edge and picked up the wine bottle. He flicked a serrated blade from the waiter's corkscrew using one hand. With a swift circular incision, he opened the foil seal, then folded the blade down and flicked two other tools from the same instrument: a coiled wire and a metal lever. He twisted the coil into the cork, placed the lever on the lip of the bottle, and lifted the cork out with a soft pop.

Tsuzuki was envious at his manual dexterity. How easy he made it look. Muraki was as good as a professional sommelier.

Muraki poured himself a small amount of wine. He tested the water temperature with one hand while swirling the glass and taking languid sips with the other.

Quietly Tsuzuki went to the open wine bottle and took a sniff.

Muraki turned his way, one brow lifted.

Tsuzuki froze. He saw Muraki's gaze look right through him at the bottle.

Muraki lowered his head. A slight smile hovered on his lips. He began to place the glass on the vanity unit next to the bottle.

Quickly Tsuzuki sidestepped in the nick in time. A close call.

Muraki adjusted the tub controls. The water bubbled and swirled like a seething cauldron.

Tsuzuki had never seen anything like it. The water of natural hot springs was still and serene. Bubbling water was an indicator of volcanic vents releasing sulphurous gases - popular for sightseeing only. Anyone foolish to dip in such waters would smell like rotten eggs and be scalded to death.

But this bath was fragrant with a hint of invigorating citrus scents. Tsuzuki wondered how it compared to the hot springs.

Muraki seemed satisfied with the bath. He placed the two candles at the far of the tub, then took off his towel and stepped inside. Bubbles covered his entire body, cocooning him in swirling froth. He reclined back to face the two candles. His entire expression was one of unadulterated bliss. Tsuzuki remembered seeing it during their first night: the lifted chin, the closed eyes, the ecstatic concentration during that first exquisite thrust...

Tsuzuki turned away, annoyed at himself. With Muraki oblivious to everything except his own pleasure, this was his chance to search the room.

There was a pure white handkerchief in one of Muraki's trouser pockets, a little creased but unused. The vanity unit contained a mix of toiletries - nothing out of the ordinary. After checking to make sure Muraki's eyes were closed, he slowly opened the single drawer to find soap, toothpaste, electric shaver.

Tsuzuki sat on the edge of the bath, arms folded. Despite his reckless behaviour, Muraki knew how to protect his secrets.

He watched Muraki's face gilded by gold flame. He inhaled the fragrant steam and listened to the soothing sound of bubbling water. For a host with an invisible guest wandering his apartment, Muraki was surprisingly unruffled. But then, Muraki was no ordinary mortal.

Tsuzuki bit his lip. To extract information from Muraki, he needed a plan...something as manipulative and devious as the man himself.

He eyed the two candles, their gold flames tall and still. He cast an illusion spell to make the flames flicker and project his voice.

"Muraki."

As if sensing an imperceptible draft, the flames flickered in the still air.

Muraki opened his eyes at once. His gaze locked on the candle. "Tsuzuki-san? Show yourself and join me."

"Answer my questions, then I will do as you wish."

"You know I dislike conversing with ghosts. You could just as easily interrogate me while you are in the bath--"

"No, I couldn't, and you know it!" Both candle flames wavered wildly.

Muraki stretched out both arms to the candles, his smile wolfish. "Come to me, and I will make you forget these trifling concerns."

"Tell me why the Yakuza are after you. I know you don't want them to find you - you carry no identification to avoid being traced and you brandished a gun when I arrived here. Is this about money? Have they tried to blackmail you - or you them?"

"Blackmail?" Muraki looked affronted at the very idea. "I do not need to resort to such clumsy methods to maintain my living standards. As for being blackmailed, one must first have compromising evidence, ne? A wise person covers his tracks and ensures there is no evidence to find in the first place."

"I suppose you know that better than anyone else." Tsuzuki remembered Muraki's callous manipulation of Tsubaki, and the mayhem he caused aboard the Queen Camellia. "Then why are they after you?"

"A doctor is always in demand. Colleagues approach you for corridor consultations. Friends and acquaintances solicit your advice at social functions. Even on holiday, it is not uncommon to receive calls seeking your opinion on a particular case." Muraki's brows furrowed together as he eyed the candles. "People identify you with your profession and forget about your underlying humanity. They expect miracles, and are furious when you prove to be fallible."

By the side of the bath, Tsuzuki studied Muraki's sober profile. "So...is that why the Yakuza are after you? Did an operation of yours go wrong?"

"In a manner of speaking." Muraki didn't elaborate.

"Who was the patient? Did this person die?"

"Death is a possible outcome in any operation, especially high-risk procedures on seriously ill patients - it happens to the most senior specialists as well as the junior registrar-in-training. We provide the best care we can, but we cannot predict every eventuality. All patients are informed of the probability of complications when they give consent." He lowered his gaze, his expression grim. "However, some insist on allocating blame when things go wrong. They seek a scapegoat. Perhaps it alleviates their own feelings of helplessness and guilt."

"So what do they want from you? Compensation?"

"Revenge." Muraki smiled cheerfully. "I believe they have orders to execute me. But let us not dwell on such a dreary conversation topic--"

"What? If they're trying to kill you, you should tell the police! You should have bodyguards, some kind of security system--"

"Not at all. Involving the authorities will only draw attention to my own stained hands." He lifted them up so the water trickled through his fingers. "I can handle this situation. All my life I have worked alone. This is no different." He clasped his hands in prayer and bowed his head. "If anything happens to me, you will come to my rescue, ne?"

Tsuzuki's jaw dropped. "Don't involve me in this!" Both flames shook. "This is a problem of your own making! You shouldn't have collaborated with the Yakuza to begin with!"

"For which I am sincerely repentant. I will cease dealing with all criminal elements as you have commanded."

"I'm a shinigami! I'm not your personal bodyguard! I deal with demons and spirits, not thugs and criminals!"

Muraki's brows lifted at the vehemence of the disembodied voice. "Do not question your abilities, Tsuzuki-san. Your experience with demons will serve you well. I have found from experience that demons and criminals share many common traits--"

"No! That's not it!" Tsuzuki pulled his hair. "Why the hell must I bail you out of your shady dealings?"

"Because I am yours."

"Don't say that! You have your own will! I'm not telling you to do anything!"

"Deny it all you wish, but you have seen the evidence of your name and mark." Muraki reclined into the tub and closed his eyes. "It is your responsibility to protect what is yours."

Tsuzuki watched him for a long moment, his impatience growing. Muraki always kept bringing up this ludicrous idea of ownership. How could he calmly speak of himself as property to be owned? Tsuzuki did feel responsible for his predicament, but his sense of obligation only extended so far. Helping Muraki fend off demons was one thing...but dealing with Muraki's human enemies was another.

"You keep calling yourself 'mine.' My what? You never did explain."

"There is not one word that can express what we are to each other. The simplistic titles of 'friend' and 'enemy' are inadequate."

"Whatever you are, Muraki, you're not my friend."

"Neither do I wish to be yours." Disdain edged Muraki's voice. "I seek more than what is permitted by the restrictive bounds of mere friendship." He looked thoughtfully at the flickering flames. "It would be easier for me to demonstrate. See those two candles?"

"Yes."

Muraki scooped up a handful of water. Without shifting his gaze, he threw it over the side of the tub - right into Tsuzuki's face.

"Muraki!"

Water droplets clung to Tsuzuki's invisible form. Caught by the candlelight, they formed a fragmented crystalline cast of his face suspended in mid-air.

Muraki was delighted. "I found you!" Grabbing Tsuzuki by the back of the head, he dunked him face first into the water and pulled him up. "There, that is better! I can see you properly now!"

"Muraki!" Spluttering with fury, Tsuzuki tried to wipe the water from his eyes. "What the hell was that for?"

"I am revealing you to the world! Did you think you can hide from me?" Muraki reached up to pour scoops of water on Tsuzuki's head. "This day I cleanse you with Water! But there is one..."

"You...idiot!" Tsuzuki grabbed him by the throat. "Enough!"

"...whose name I am unworthy to utter..."

"Stop it!"

"Reveal yourself! Why hide like a fugitive?" Muraki splashed more water in Tsuzuki's face, then ran his wet fingers through invisible hair. "Our game of Hide and Seek is over. I win. You must come out - every child knows this rule."

Tsuzuki shimmered into view, his damp hair stuck up at bizarre angles, his narrowed violet eyes glittering slits. Being seated on the tub edge gave him a height advantage - he loomed over Muraki like a crouching panther about to pounce.

"How did you know? How did you know where I was?" He shook Muraki for emphasis. "The invisibility cloak is meant to be foolproof!"

Muraki surged to his feet. Sheets of water fell from his shoulders and arms. Glistening rivulets streamed down his chest. Candlelight gilded every gleaming lineament of his torso with gold. Their positions were reversed - Muraki loomed over Tsuzuki, leaving him clinging to Muraki's neck for support.

With his one true eye, Muraki stared at Tsuzuki with the superciliousness of a deity regarding a lowly worshipper.

Tsuzuki simply gazed up at him, awe-struck. He knew he should let go, yet he couldn't loosen his fingers.

Muraki looked like a magnificent god. Not a God of Death, but a true god beholden to no one. He could have been a god of Water emerging from the waves, or a god of gold Metal rising from his daily ablution.

"Don't you know?" Muraki tilted his head, his expression softening. "A servant must be able to perceive his master behind any spell or charm. How else can he offer proper homage and service?"

"What?"

"Join me and I will reveal all."

Muraki hauled him down. Tsuzuki fell into the bath with a huge splash.

"Muraki! I'm still dressed!"

"You must take off your clothes! Allow me to help you."

Curious about the commotion, the cat went to look. From the doorway, it watched in alarm while the two men grappled with each other. Water spilled from the tub onto the floor, and splashed across the mirror and the vanity unit. When some droplets splattered across the doorway, the cat scrambled away.

Tsuzuki flailed his arms and legs, splashing water everywhere. His wet shirt clung to his torso. His trenchcoat billowed around him. Jets of water pummelled his body from all directions, alarming him further. "Dammit! You're just making it worse!"

"But I am yours - your wish is my command." Muraki wrenched at Tsuzuki's soaking shirt.

"Then I command you to stop!" Tsuzuki grabbed Muraki's shoulders and shoved him in the water.

Muraki torpedoed up like a playful dolphin, silver hair plastered to his scalp. "Yes! Cleanse me! Replenish me! You alone have the power!"

"You idiot! I command you to--"

Muraki kissed him. Tsuzuki fell back into a recessed seat moulded into the tub wall, his back to the candles. Jets of warm water surged against him from many directions, ticklish and strange...and oddly soothing. Muraki's hands were braced either side of the tub, preventing his escape. His cool wet lips yielded to reveal a fruity sweetness Tsuzuki found delicious.

Tsuzuki came to the bemused conclusion Muraki's spa bath was far better than any public hot spring.

He was getting sidetracked. Muraki's demanding insistence left him eager and trembling, wanting more despite his better judgement. He didn't know what they were to each other, but Muraki was no humble servant. And Tsuzuki knew he wasn't acting the role of a proper master.

Maybe it was time to call Muraki's bluff.

"Enough." Tsuzuki turned his face to one side, his jaw clenched. "You taste different."

"It's the wine." Muraki tilted his head, his lips teasingly close. His breath tickled Tsuzuki's cheek. "Would you like to sample it again?"

"Yes - no! I want a glass." Tsuzuki fought to keep his tone even and authoritative, difficult when Muraki was in such close proximity. "I want you to pour me a glass of wine and leave me alone."

"But where's the fun in that, Tsuzuki-san?" Muraki moved closer to nuzzle his cheek. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose of your little visits? Admit it - you enjoy this as much as I do."

Tsuzuki lifted his hand to shove Muraki's jaw away.

Muraki seized his wrist. "You traitor. You dare use that knockout spell again?"

"You are not to touch me without permission!" Tsuzuki eyed him with the same implacable determination. "If you are mine, you will prove it by obeying my commands."

"I am yours, but neither am I a subservient fool. I reserve the right to refuse commands driven by idiocy, ignorance and cowardice." He glared at Tsuzuki's wet shirtsleeve. "Only a fool takes a bath fully dressed."

"You..." Tsuzuki wrenched his wrist free. "You dragged me in here! This is your fault!"

"You always give contradictory commands! When I offer to undress you, you reject my assistance!"

"That's because I don't need it!" Tsuzuki lifted one hand up, pointed his index finger at his throat, and swung his hand down. With a few murmured words, his upper torso, visible above the frothing water was bare.

Muraki's crestfallen expression was comical. "I never knew undressing a shinigami could be so straightforward...unless your clothes are merely invisible." He reached out to test it.

"I don't recall giving you permission to touch me."

Muraki's hand froze inches from Tsuzuki's bare shoulder. His good eye regarded Tsuzuki with a sharp assessing curiosity. "No, you did not."

"Disobey my orders one more time and I'll join my wet clothes back in Meifu like that." Tsuzuki clicked his fingers to make his point, and the candle flames trembled in time. "Thanks to you, I have extra laundry to do - may as well get started on it sooner rather than later."

Muraki retreated back to sit at the other end of the tub. "Very well. I will obey. I am yours." He reached for the bottle and poured Tsuzuki a glass.

Tsuzuki bent his knees to his chest, doing his best to avoid contact with Muraki's legs. He wasn't fooled by the man's obedience. Muraki played along because it suited his purpose. Ending their evening prematurely would ruin his plans. His deadline - their deadline - was only four nights away.

"This is Penfold's Grange Hermitage, considered one of the world's great red wines. Made from Shiraz blended with a little Cabernet Sauvignon, this vintage has been aged for over twenty years - the time it takes for a human to reach adulthood, but a blink of an eye to an immortal shinigami." Muraki held the glass out to him. "Inhale the bouquet and sip it slowly to appreciate the complex flavours."

Their fingers touched when Tsuzuki took the glass.

"Forgive me." Muraki bowed his head in humble apology. "That was unintentional, I assure you."

"It's fine." Tsuzuki had to pinch himself. He half-expected Muraki to pounce on him the moment he looked away to take a sip.

Carefully he held up the glass so the wine caught the candlelight. The liquid glowed a deep red-purple. He followed Muraki's example by swirling it in the bowl. Keeping his gaze on Muraki, he sniffed it cautiously. The aroma was extremely pleasant: fruity with an extra aroma that reminded him of rich dark chocolate. The flavours on his tongue were an intense mix of ripe fruit and chocolate perfectly balanced by a tannic astringency that lingered long after he had swallowed it down.

Liquid heat uncurled within his stomach - a milder version of the post-orgasmic languor he felt after coming in Muraki's mouth.

Muraki reclined in the bubbling water to watch him. "What do you think of it?"

"Good. Really good." Woefully inadequate a description, but Tsuzuki was still savouring the full-bodied taste. He took another sip.

"I'm glad to know it pleases you. When you have finished..." He raised a brow when Tsuzuki emptied the entire glass in one long swallow.

"Incredible." Tsuzuki blinked, a little dazed as he licked his lips. "I can't remember the last time I had wine this good."

"Probably the Chateau Margaux we shared aboard the Queen Camellia," Muraki murmured. "You won't appreciate any wine properly if you gulp it down."

"I appreciate it enough to want some more." Tsuzuki held out his glass. "You hardly filled the glass last time."

"A wine glass should not be filled to the brim. The purpose of the bowl is to collect the bouquet--"

"Fill it up. That's an order, Muraki."

Anger flared in Muraki's good eye. "Very well."

A full glass was tricky to swirl, but the aroma was still heady and the flavour remained delicious. Tsuzuki reclined a little against the tub, warmed outside by bubbling water and inside by red wine. It would have been paradise if it wasn't for Muraki watching him across the tub with brooding intent. With his wet hair slicked back to reveal the severe angularity of his face, he looked even more imposing and forbidding than usual.

Even his false eye was revealed, no longer hidden behind the silver curtain of hair. Both upper and lower eyelids were retracted to create that eerie wide diameter. Tsuzuki wondered if the muscles around them were paralysed. He compared it to the true eye - deep set, heavy lidded and slanted with thick lashes - and felt a twinge of sympathy.

The event that led to Muraki's eye loss must have been gruesome.

"What is it? Does something displease you?" Muraki asked.

"No, nothing."

Muraki wasn't fooled. "Do you find me ugly?" Anger hardened his voice. "Does looking at my face disgust you?"

"No!" Tsuzuki's reply was vehement. "I never said that!"

The candle flames behind him suddenly flared, surprising them both.

"Interesting," Muraki murmured. "The flames are synchronised to your speech pattern to trick the observer into thinking they are the source of your voice. A clever distraction technique."

Tsuzuki lifted the spell around the flames with a wave of his hand. "Not clever enough for you. You even saw through my invisibility spell."

"Untrue. I never saw you until you chose to reveal yourself."

"Then how did you know where to throw the water?"

"I am yours. To me, your energy is a warm fire in a cold room. I cannot help but be drawn to you. I must seek you out with every fibre of my being--"

"Okay, that's enough! I get the picture."

Muraki bowed his head, but not quick enough to hide his mischievous grin. "I was only trying to explain."

"How long have you had this ability? You didn't sense me the first night I came here."

"How could I acknowledge you when my own power was weak? For the past three nights you teased and taunted me. Your cruelty nearly drove me to the breaking point."

"I didn't mean to be cruel. And now you've been fed--"

"Only by wearing the guise of your shikigami. Even now you continue to humiliate me." Muraki's voice was edged with bitterness. "But beggars cannot be choosers. Even this is better than nothing." His gaze locked on Tsuzuki's, bold and direct. "You have nourished me. Your essence is now imprinted in my mind. The more you feed me, the more my ability to acknowledge and worship you will improve."

"I don't want to be worshipped!"

Muraki closed his eyes, ignoring him. "I will offer homage and bring glory to your name. In time, I will prove my worth to you."

So Muraki wanted more? This was the last thing Tsuzuki wanted. Silently he damned himself for being so weak. If only there was a spell to turn back time and reverse what happened in the alleyway.

Or even better, reverse Muraki's entire demonic covenant.

Tsuzuki drained his glass and placed it on the side of the tub. He cleared his throat. "You don't have to do all those things for me. All I want are answers to my questions."

"What questions?"

"Let's start with your false eye. How long have you had it? How did you lose your eye in the first place?"

Muraki's brow furrowed in displeasure.

"I'm making this a command, Muraki. Tell me about your eye."

"When I show you the signature, you become angry. When I attempt to remind you, you reject knowledge to embrace forgetfulness." Muraki turned his head to conceal the false eye from view. "You gouged out the implant once, and attempted it again three days ago. Why do you care about it now?"

"Well...why shouldn't I care?" Tsuzuki felt awkward and a little guilty. "If I'm supposed to be responsible for you, I need to know about aspects of your past: the injuries on your body, the enemies you've made. I'm sure the Yakuza aren't the only people after you." He saw Muraki smile warmly at him. "What?"

"I am deeply touched by your concern for my welfare. At last you begin to take your responsibilities seriously."

"I'm not concerned!" Tsuzuki clenched his hands into fists under the water. Even in the confines of a decadent spa bath, Muraki knew how to make him angry. "Look, never mind that. Answer my questions."

Muraki took the empty wine glass. He pressed his lips over the wine residue left on the rim by Tsuzuki's mouth, his eyes shut in bliss. When Tsuzuki shifted and looked away, Muraki smiled and poured wine for himself. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Candles flank your shoulders, bathing your head in a halo of gold light. Your entire face is in shadow, yet your amethyst eyes glitter with an unquenchable fire." Muraki's own febrile gaze moved restlessly over Tsuzuki. "You enjoy giving me orders, ne? Watching another person do your bidding can be a most empowering experience. But it comes with responsibility. It is your duty to protect and preserve those under your command."

"You don't serve me! You don't listen to me half the time! You won't even answer my questions."

Muraki took a sip of wine. "Tsuzuki-san, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be ruler of Meifu? Imagine, just for a moment, having this world and the next in the palm of your hand?" His eyes glittered over the rim of the wine glass. "You need never condemn a mortal to a premature death again. At your command, every human could be given the opportunity to fulfil his or her potential by living a normal lifespan. Who needs the Kiseki to dictate when people die?" He held the glass up in a toast. "You - a being of compassion and mercy - could have ultimate control over all life and all death. Wouldn't that be a more fair and just arrangement?"

Tsuzuki watched the frothy water made up of tiny white bubbles. They tickled and popped against his flesh like Muraki's words: flattering and seductive, but just as insubstantial and vacuous. Tsuzuki's loyalty remained to EnmaDaiOh; he wasn't interested in challenging his authority, let alone attempt a coup. He wasn't conceited enough to believe he could do a better job. For seventy four years he had served as a shinigami. That was not about to change - he was certain of it.

He glanced up to meet Muraki's challenging silver gaze. Puffed with pride, Muraki looked every inch a being who had never once tasted the bitterness of failure or disappointment - equally certain of the success of his outlandish proposal.

It almost hurt to look at him.

"Muraki." Tsuzuki's voice was low and quiet. "Are you serious?"

Muraki smiled once more and offered him the glass. "Are you interested?"

Notes:

1. "Onigokko" - Japanese version of the children's game 'tag.' The person who has to tag everyone else is known as 'oni' or demon.
2. The words of Hakushaku's letter are paraphrased from August Derleth's book "The Trail of Cthulhu."