Out of the corner of his eye, Tsuzuki saw Muraki and his cat disappear. He waited until he was sure Muraki was gone before speaking.
"Genbu! What kind of answer was that? Whose side are you on anyway?"
Genbu halted his ponderous trudging steps. "As God of Earth and Guardian of Wisdom, I answered your question. Do not hold me responsible if the reply is not to your liking." His sinuous neck swung around, and he fixed Tsuzuki with a piercing gaze. "You should know better than most the dangers of putting a god to the test."
"I didn't mean to test you!" Tsuzuki marched up to the formidable snake-tortoise. "But how was I to know? You never told me anything about Wood shikigami!"
Genbu turned away, head held high. "You never asked me until now."
"How do you expect me to ask about something I was never told about?" Tsuzuki threw back. "Excuse me for not being an all-knowing God like yourself!"
"Very well." Genbu curled his neck in a regal arch as he stared down at Tsuzuki. "You are excused."
Tsuzuki gritted his teeth. He should've known Genbu's thick hide was impervious to sarcasm. "Do you realise what you've done? Do you? You've given him more ammunition for his schemes!"
"I know," Genbu rumbled.
"Really? So you agree with Muraki? You think I should let him awaken that 'thing' inside me - my true nature, as he calls it? That's all he's after, you know." Tsuzuki began marching in angry circles. "This parasite lurking inside me that revels in chaos and destruction...he wants it for himself! But I won't let it out...not again, and not for him! If you saw for itself what it could do..."
"I know." Genbu's deep voice was little more than a subsonic murmur.
"All my life I've tried to keep it hidden. I'd attempt suicide to silence the voices...anything to dull the hunger inside." He traced the many scars over his right wrist. "Demon. Monster. Those were the names they called me."
A single teardrop fell to the rocky ground at Tsuzuki's feet.
Startled, Tsuzuki looked up. Genbu's reptilian face remained immobile, but beneath his hooded eyes was the glitter of golden tears.
"It was the same for us," he rasped. "Why do you think we abandoned the rich material world for the virtual Gensoukai?"
"You mean...you suffered the same taunts as well?"
"Long ago you assumed flesh to live among the plants you loved. You gave up immortality for the neverending cycle of death and rebirth. Some of us doubted you would ever return. Some even forgot your very name. But we of the Divine Four always remembered - for you were the first to summon us at the dawn of time."
Tsuzuki was so stunned by Genbu's expression it took several moments for realisation to dawn. "So this thing inside me...was never demonic at all?" A heavy burden inside him was lifting, slowly but surely. "But everyone told me I was a monster, an ogre...everyone but my mother and sister..."
Genbu did not answer. His eyes, firmly fixed on his master, were overflowing.
"What is it?" Tsuzuki rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand. He was about to weep as well, but not with grief. "Is the thought of someone like me being one of you so appalling?" he joked weakly.
Genbu shook his head. He lowered his head down in a reverent bow, then twined his serpentine neck over Tsuzuki's shoulders.
Blessed by their mingled tears, the rocky volcanic ground came to life. Where once had been acidic soil was now covered with a fine green lawn of grass shoots.
In the bedroom of his Nagasaki apartment, Muraki lounged on his bed in his yukata. With a lit cigarette in one hand, he watched the sun rise over the mountains surrounding Nagasaki. With his other hand, he idly stroked the grey cat that dozed in his lap.
"Moonlight is lost in sunlight," the cat mewed. "He will not return until nightfall."
"He will come." Muraki's tone held conviction without a trace of doubt. "When he realises the truth, he will come again...and again." Thin lips curled in a seductive smile. "I'll make sure of it."
The cat lashed Muraki's arm with its tail. "You give up too much of your essence to please him."
"I'm fine, I assure you. When we were alone in the hot spring, Tsuzuki-san demonstrated how my body is acquiring Metal characteristics. I survived a bath in water hot enough to burn without a mark." He idly bent one knee up to demonstrate. "My power is growing even faster than I imagined."
The cat was unimpressed. "You risk using up your remaining physical Metal reserves. The more your power manifests itself beyond your control, the more your intake must be."
Muraki shrugged. "It's a risk I'm willing to take." He took a long drag from his cigarette.
"You must take in more nourishment. Engaging in pointless debates about the method of feeding is a sign of ingratitude."
"The way I conduct my feeding sessions with Tsuzuki-san is my business. You are here to bear witness, not act as therapist, ne?"
The cat lifted its head to glare back at Muraki. "I too have a stake in your quest. There is little spiritual energy to be found in the blood of a corpse."
"Oh ye of little faith," Muraki retorted. He placed the cigarette to his lips, then removed one of the ruby studs. It was coated with sticky blood. "Taste for yourself."
The cat scrabbled furiously at Muraki's hand until he let it go. Using both paws, it caught the earring before it could fall from the bed and began licking it clean.
Muraki held his hand up to the light. No scratches or cuts from the feline's sharp claws. He had cast no spell to protect himself. He carried no barrier fuda on his person. His Metallic ability was no longer a power to be channeled when needed - as Tsuzuki-san had foretold, it was now an intrinsic part of his very being.
"Man of steel," he murmured to himself. He liked the sound of it.
He reclined back against the pillows, and took another drag from his cigarette. With eyes slitted against the glare, he watched the sunrise.
Two more nights before the full moon. Two long nights. After so many nights of frustrations and setbacks, his patience was wearing a little thin. How long would Tsuzuki continue to deny his true nature? Would the words from the God of Earth be able to break through his stubborn scepticism? It was difficult to say. For all his egotism, Muraki knew only too well that the shikigami had no reason to assist an outsider like him. Their loyalty was first and foremost to their master. If their master chose to remain in ignorant darkness, then they would faithfully fulfil his wishes regardless of the consequences.
And where would that leave him? Would all his plans come to naught? Would he be left a ranting fool, deserted by the one he sought to worship? Saagatanus's mocking last words came unbidden to mind:
He does not...acknowledge you. Could this be...a false prophet? A traitor...
Traitor was a charge he readily accepted. Once he summoned demons with samples of his tainted blood to hear their stories. But the Shion University fire had been his road to Damascus. After seeing the light, there was no going back. So he had switched his allegiance to pursue a higher god.
But a false prophet?
Muraki exhaled smoke from flared nostrils. He would make Tsuzuki acknowledge him - before human and demon, before his fellow shinigami, before the great Enma himself if he had to. Anything to silence the critics.
He loves you in the same way he loves all things great and small, friend and foe, material and immaterial. His capacity to give love is great indeed.
The memory of Genbu's words made Muraki curl his lower lip in disgust. To be treated exactly the same as everyone else...what was the point in being loved like that after all the trials he had endured? He lifted his hand to take another drag of his cigarette, and froze.
He and the cat were no longer alone.
Tsuzuki's long silhouette leaned against the window, his slim physique accentuated by the sharp planes of a suit jacket. Against the glare of the morning sun, it was difficult to make out the expression on his face. His elongated shadow, narrow and still, fell across the white bedsheets.
Startled, the cat looked up as well.
Tsuzuki approached the bed, arms folded. His manner was brisk, business-like. "You must be tired, both of you." Instead of his usual black suit, he was dressed in the charcoal grey morning suit ensemble Muraki had given him the night before. In the crook of one elbow, he carried the ebony cane. The only item missing was the purple bow tie - instead, Tsuzuki had left his shirt open at the collar.
"Indeed." Muraki stubbed the cigarette in the nearby ashtray. Much as it pleased him to see Tsuzuki wearing the outfit, he wasn't sure he liked seeing Tsuzuki so fully dressed.
Conscious of Muraki's keen scrutiny, Tsuzuki pulled at the coat to make it straight. "I owe you an apology, don't I?"
"Most definitely, but you know how you can make up for it." Muraki began untying his yukata, his hungry gaze never leaving Tsuzuki's face.
"I don't just mean last night. I need to apologise for all that's happened since that very night we first met..." Involuntarily Tsuzuki's gaze drifted down pale nude flesh. "By failing to stop you...I..."
Muraki let the yukata slide off his shoulders. "You...?" he prompted helpfully.
The cat leapt up to its customary observation post on the nightstand.
Tsuzuki swore under his breath and turned away. "Enough is enough, Muraki! I've come to make an apology!"
"Then proceed, if you must." Muraki stretched out on his side like a lazy cat, head propped up on one elbow. "You and your elaborate guilt complex," he murmured ruefully.
"I'm here to apologise," Tsuzuki snapped, "for setting in chain the events that have made you what you are now. By failing to stop you sacrificing your eye, I sentenced you to a cursed life - one filled with pain and misery, despair and suffering..." He lowered his head. "A life as hopeless as mine."
"I regret nothing," Muraki countered. "If it wasn't for you, I would have surely killed myself. Meeting you in that park changed everything. You showed me how life can conquer death. You gave me a reason to live. From that day forth, I vowed to worship you and bear witness to your greatness. Regardless of my grandfather's involvement in your care, we were destined to meet, one way or another. It was fate."
"I never told you to kill in my name. I wanted you to be a...a guardian of life!" Tsuzuki twitched one of his shoulders.
The sign Muraki was waiting for - an indication of the energy rising within. "I made sacrifices in your honour, so you would grace me with your presence." He sat up languidly enough, but his gaze glittered in anticipation. "Your back aches, ne? Take off your jacket and let me help."
Tsuzuki shook his head. "But you killed so many! So many innocent people!"
"One was never enough to summon you," Muraki agreed. "The mightier the deity to be honoured, the greater the sacrifice required. Would you have come to me if I had killed only once?"
"Yes, if I'd known! If it could've made a difference, I would have come to you! But the Shoukanka only sends me to investigate when there's a series of suspicious deaths-"
"Your power was sealed, so you were deaf to my prayers. But no longer, ne? The Guardian of Earth has spoken to you." Muraki indicated the cane with a pointed look. "So demonstrate the occult elemental energy that is rightfully yours."
Tsuzuki placed his fingers around the cane's handle and drew it up like a sword. It gradually rippled into life, twisting and coiling like a snake, its polished shaft now ridged with bark. Small branches sprouted from its shaft, followed by small shoots and tiny leaves.
The cat leapt on the bed and scrambled over Muraki's lap to watch, eyes wide as saucers.
"At last," Muraki murmured, equally mesmerised. "My efforts have not been in vain."
Tsuzuki held the cane at arm's length. The sight of the living wood unnerved him. "It doesn't seem a part of me. I don't have any control over it." He tensed as one branch began creeping up his arm.
"It's all right." Muraki held out his hand. "Let me take care of it."
The moment Muraki took hold of the branch it settled into obedient stillness. Holding it in one hand, he slid his long fingers along the length several times. The branch creaked and straightened in his grip. The newly-formed branches withered. The new leaves curled and changed to red-brown hues of autumn, then fell lifelessly on the bedsheets. Caught in the falling debris, the cat shook itself and scampered back to the nightstand. The ridged bark subsided to form polished woodgrain.
Muraki darted a sidelong glance from his work. Much to his satisfaction, Tsuzuki observed the transformation with wide-eyed wonder.
"You cannot expect to master a power you haven't used in decades, ne?" Muraki held the wood out in both hands. It was a lifeless ebony cane again. "In three nights' time when the full moon rises past midnight, Wood energy and all it entails shall be yours."
Tsuzuki took the cane. At once it began to twist and curl to life again. "I don't know if I can wait that long." Suddenly he clutched one shoulder and let the cane drop to the floor. "I'm not sure...if my body can either."
An excruciating spasm of pain made him double forward. Two tufts of black quills erupted from his upper back. Ripping through the material of his shirt and jacket, the sticky blood-stained spikes tore their way free.
"He reveals himself!" the cat yowled. "He has awakened at last!"
"Only in body." Muraki remained where he was, his rapt attention on Tsuzuki's face. In the grip of physical suffering, Tsuzuki was a beautiful sight to behold. "Not yet in soul."
Tsuzuki clenched his jaw against the agony. Droplets of sweat beaded his brow. "You see? I can't wait any longer." He straightened up to look Muraki in the eye. "Just then...you used your Metal energy...to subdue the Wood energy, didn't you?" He attempted to be flippant, yet in his pain he sounded plaintive. "Do you think...you could do the same for me?"
The words were music to Muraki's ears. "You only have to say the word..." He hauled Tsuzuki on the bed. "...and your will is done."
A split second of resistance, and then Tsuzuki was sinking against him eagerly, willingly. He buried his face against Muraki's shoulder. His arms twined around Muraki's neck.
Utter capitulation. Muraki was dizzy with the knowledge of his triumph. A whispered spell against Tsuzuki's ear, and the seams sewn with charmed hair fell away like cobwebs. The fine clothes he'd presented to Tsuzuki were little more than flimsy scraps of cloth, impediments to the perfectly formed body beneath. With the same hands that restored the cane moments ago, Muraki clutched the mass of feathers and pulling them free, handful after bloody handful.
Seated atop his lap, Tsuzuki gasped and writhed against him. His nails curled into Muraki's upper back, a weaker imitation of the pain he felt.
"Shhh. It's all right." Muraki rocked Tsuzuki like a babe. "Now you acknowledge me, ne? Now you know." He plucked the tufts repeatedly with one hand, while caressing the nape of Tsuzuki's neck with the other. "Metal mastering Wood - this is how it should be." Once the quills were gone, he tore the remaining downy fluff with his nails until he reached bare flesh...and further still, scoring the length of Tsuzuki's back with bloody lacerations.
Deep down, he knew it was futile. Tsuzuki would heal, and the cuts would vanish. No evidence of his mastery would remain. But he didn't care. Even if his flesh did heal, he was determined to leave an indelible impression in Tsuzuki's memory.
"Only I can control you," he crooned. "Only I can tame your power. You are mine."
Tsuzuki stiffened, then grasped his arm. "Enough. You've done enough."
"Have I?" Reluctantly Muraki withdrew his hand. "But I must prune you now so you may grow and thrive later."
"Thrive into what?" Tsuzuki scooped up a handful of downy black fluff, his expression one of revulsion. "All these feathers...what use are they?"
Taking hold of Tsuzuki's hand, Muraki rubbed his cheek against the softness. "A manifestation of the elemental energy within you, of course. This is a sign of your reawakened powers." He exhaled deeply, and sent a few feathers fluttering into Tsuzuki's face.
Tsuzuki swatted them away. "Then what's going to happen when the moon is full? Am I going to be covered in feathers like some bird? Will I start laying golden eggs for you too?
Muraki chuckled. Tsuzuki's feistiness was part of his charm. "Not unless you want to." He reached through the remains of Tsuzuki's clothing and took hold of his cock. It twitched and swelled in his grip.
"Don't let me transform. Take this energy from me." Tsuzuki allowed his forehead to lean against Muraki's. "Is this part of your Metal mastery as well? Is this why I can't resist you?"
Muraki chuckled. "Not at all," he whispered against Tsuzuki's cheek. "This is one power that is all my own." He squeezed and stroked the cock from root to crown, setting an urgent demanding tempo. "I must feed. You will nourish me, ne?"
Tsuzuki answered him with a ravenous kiss. His tongue stabbed and lashed the inside of Muraki's mouth, taunting and exciting him in turn. "Don't take long. I'll be late for work..."
"Forget your 'work.' Your true calling is here with me." Muraki urged Tsuzuki to lie with his back propped up by pillows against the headboard. He left the feathers and dead leaves strewn over the sheets. "For years I have sought in vain to worship and glorify you in the manner you deserve. With my goal in reach, do you intend to cruelly deny me now?" He lay between Tsuzuki's spread-eagled thighs and grasped his erection. With parted lips, he suckled the sensitive crown and slid his tongue along the slit. The taste was richer than the sickly-sweetness he disliked in sweets - this was a complex mix of salty-sweet that lingered on his tongue, yet left a lingering sweetness that left him hungry for more.
He glanced up to observe Tsuzuki's reaction. Tsuzuki was watching him, his violet eyes narrowed slits. His chest rose and fell with his erratic breaths. His thighs were rigid against the sheets. He held one hand to his forehead, as if he wasn't sure whether he wanted to see any more.
"You call...this worship?" High-pitched hysteria edged his husky voice.
"Didn't you know? Your body is my altar." With that, Muraki ran his tongue along the twitching shaft. "I humble myself before it so I may pay homage to you." He lowered his mouth over Tsuzuki's cock once more. He used his tongue to soothe the nervous flesh, while his lips formed an O to create a firm suction.
Delicious. There was no other word to describe it. The sensation of Tsuzuki's cock trembling within the confines of his mouth, while his body writhed helplessly against the mattress...it gave Muraki an exhilarating high like nothing else. He was master over this beautiful body, and the energy-rich essence it contained. Once a remote god who could only be revered from afar, Tsuzuki was now his willing slave, held captive by a combination of skilled technique and insatiable lust.
Above him, he could hear Tsuzuki's soft groans and gasping breaths. Shaking fingers stroked his head, occasionally clenching his hair as the pleasure proved unbearable.
Ignoring the silent protests, Muraki swallowed the cock deep, then allowed the shaft to slide free, along his palate and tongue, past his lips. When only the head remained, he took a deep breathe in, then exhaled and gulped the entire length down again.
"Muraki..." Tsuzuki's fingers tightened in his hair. "Would you worship me so devoutly...if I didn't possess Wood energy?"
Muraki lifted his head, and allowed the cock to slide free from his lips with a soft pop. "Are you planning to donate your powers to someone else?" He shifted Tsuzuki's erection to one side so he could caress the testicles beneath. The way they shyly retracted beneath his touch intrigued him - he held one and gently gave it an experimental tug.
"No...I-I wouldn't know how...stop doing that!"
"Then don't ask irrelevant questions." Muraki sat back on his knees and reached for the lubricant on the nightstand. "You are your power - the two are indivisible."
"But what if I lost my power...or my power was re-sealed again?" Lounging against the pillows, Tsuzuki looked from him to the watching cat. "Then all your efforts to worship me...would come to nothing."
"Blasphemy!" the cat cried, tail lashing. "You dare insult the Light?"
"Hush," Muraki commanded. He didn't want anyone distracting Tsuzuki's attention. "Tsuzuki-san, you are not the same person you were when you first came to me several nights ago. You are finally fulfilling your potential - the same potential your twelve shikigami recognized in you when they chose you as master. There is no going back." He guided Tsuzuki's knees up and warmed the lubricant in his hands as he spoke. "Witness the miracle you performed on my own mortal flesh. My new eye and all my powers...I owe to you." Sliding his fingers over the delicate perineal flesh, he slid them firmly inside Tsuzuki's ass.
Tsuzuki arched back against the pillows, his entire body galvanised by the entry. Utterly helpless - and beautiful for it. "No...not all." He was gasping the words between panting breaths. "The kagetsu spell shrouding your heart...is not mine..."
Muraki twisting his fingers in and out, searching for that sweet spot that would render him speechless. "I am yours. You need me, ne? You need me...and what I can give you."
Tsuzuki shook his head, but his body betrayed him - his muscles squeezed Muraki's fingers, guiding him deeper. "Your kagetsu spell..." he repeated hoarsely.
With devouring mouth and questing hands, Muraki silenced him once and for all. Tsuzuki could never resist the pleasures of the flesh. Even as his hips bucked and his legs scrabbled against the sheets, Tsuzuki gasped and shuddered in obvious enjoyment. His cock slid against Muraki's tongue and palate, oozing its energy-rich bounty as reward...exactly what Muraki sought.
Muraki suckled over and over, equally drunk on Tsuzuki's essence and the glory of absolute sexual dominance. There had been others, many others, he had plundered and used for his own gratification - but none had ever given up so much of themselves as Tsuzuki. His victims had struggled and fought before he had broken them with a combination of seductive skill and brute force - their bodies were lifeless, little more than mannequins. The prostitutes had been compliant and willing, yet their manufactured excitement was merely part of the age-old business transaction.
Tsuzuki was different. Once he could be persuaded to put aside his token resistance - and it was laughable to find how little 'persuading' it took - Tsuzuki responded with a lusty enthusiasm that served only to fuel Muraki's own reckless passion. Undaunted by his ravenous demands, Tsuzuki welcomed it and sought more. Even as he drank from Tsuzuki's cock and finger-fucked his delectable ass, he felt Tsuzuki's hands on his scalp pressing down, forcing him to swallow more...and more. The hard erection filled his mouth, sliding to the back of his throat. The precome flowed faster than he could swallow. It was suffocating, stifling. He couldn't breathe.
Angry, Muraki tried to wrenched his head free. The edge of his teeth slid against the shaft of Tsuzuki's cock as punishment.
"Damn you...Muraki!"
The torrent came without warning, gushing forth with a force that initially made Muraki gag. Semen leaked from his lips, spilling onto Tsuzuki's crotch. Quickly Muraki tried to compensate as best he could, swallowing what he could handle of the rich essence of the final ejaculate. Liquid warmth seeped down his throat, into his stomach. He could feel the energy thrum within him, warming his entire body, making his nerve-endings tingle. When the initial spurts eased, Muraki used his tongue to coax a little more from the waning erection.
Beneath him, Tsuzuki shuddered. He covered his eyes with the back of one hand. "That's it..." he muttered. "I've got...no more to give."
Muraki lifted his head. The world seemed different to what he remembered: the colours around him more vivid, the lines sharper and clearer. He could hear his heart pounding, the blood roaring in his ears. He took a deep breath in, and the cool rush of the air filling his lungs made him dizzy.
He was reborn, invigorated...more alive than ever before. He felt every inch a new man - right down to his cock, painfully erect and in urgent need of release.
Tsuzuki levered himself up on his elbows. His chest still heaved with gasping breaths. "I'm leaving. You've got what you wanted." He brought his legs together and tried to sit up amid the scattered black feathers.
"Hypocrite." Muraki seized his knees and spread them wide. Tsuzuki wasn't getting away that easily. "Don't pretend you were doing me any favours. You wanted me to remove the proof of your power. Deep down you still fear the truth, ne?" He lowered himself against Tsuzuki, crotch to crotch, and began grinding his erection against Tsuzuki's lax genitals.
"Muraki..." Tsuzuki didn't resist, but neither was he welcoming. "I think you might regret this."
"You think?" Muraki taunted. He caught Tsuzuki's mouth in a kiss and pressed him back against the pillows. Pushing his way past parted lips, he stroked his tongue along the length of Tsuzuki's own, offering a taste the essence he'd just imbibed. No one could resist its bewitching allure - even its creator was not immune.
Initial hesitation fell away. Tsuzuki's slick tongue twined around his, seeking more of the addictive flavour. It thrilled Muraki...and excited him beyond measure.
"You're right, Tsuzuki-san. Two more nights...is too long to wait." Muraki hooked Tsuzuki's legs over his shoulders. With trembling fingers he prepared himself with generous amounts of lubricant. "If you won't let me offer the bodies of others as sacrifice, then I'll offer up my own. With this body I shall worship you...and unveil your full glory."
"I reject your offering." Tsuzuki shook his head, his dark hair spilling over the pillow. It only made him look more debauched...and even more desirable. "Save your energy, Muraki. Listen to me for once..."
Muraki knelt forward. He hardly heard a word. His body demanded release above all else, and he wasn't going to deny himself any longer. Grasping Tsuzuki by the hips, Muraki sheathed his cock in the sizzling heat of Tsuzuki's ass.
There was no struggle, no resistance - only the rippling spasms that seemed to welcome him home. The ease of it took his breath away. "My dear Tsuzuki-san..."
Tsuzuki groaned softly, sweetly. "We...we shouldn't be doing this..."
Muraki lowered his head to bite his inner thigh in reproach. He began to rock his hips in a slow steady rhythm, resisting the temptation to go hard and fast. Tsuzuki's body yielded so wholeheartedly, so eagerly, clenching around his cock as he withdrew, then relaxing as he pressed home...it was perfect. Too perfect. He had to clench his teeth and focus on his task to maintain control.
He gazed down at Tsuzuki laid out before him - gasping for breath, pupils dilated with passion, his entire body dewed once again in perspiration. A soft flush bloomed over his cheeks and chest, making his body glow in the morning sunlight. With one hand, he clutched his own cock, stroking it to fullness again.
Restlessly Muraki ran his nails down one trembling thigh. He gazed longingly down at Tsuzuki's cock. "I wish I could do that for you. Even better, I wish I could suck you off...and fuck you at the same time." He punctuated his phrases with steady thrusts of his hips.
Tsuzuki let out a half-chuckle, half-groan. "You are crazy, Muraki Kazutaka."
"You're responsible...for that as well. You've driven me mad...with desire for you." He increased his tempo a fraction, and watched his cock appear and disappear between the cheeks of Tsuzuki's ass. "Are you pleased with your handiwork?"
"Yes...no...ahh..." Tsuzuki trembled and arched against the pillows as one particular thrust found his sensitive prostate. Supporting himself on his arms and shoulders, he lifted his hips to aid Muraki's efforts.
Muraki clenched his jaw. Delicious tremors enclosed his cock, milking him, urging and rewarding him. What uninhibited generosity. What eagerness to please.
His capacity to give love is great indeed.
Again Genbu's words taunted him, incensed him. The thought of Tsuzuki giving anyone the same pleasure made him mad.
He adjusted the angle of lean hips and long legs so his cock slid deeper. "Only I can worship you this way...which is why you must love me the most. No one else can make you come alive...or satisfy you so completely, ne?"
"Mmm..." Watching him through eyes slitted in pleasure, Tsuzuki matched him thrust for thrust. "Maybe..."
Muraki hissed. Tsuzuki's movements were making him lose his train of thought. He bowed his head so Tsuzuki couldn't see his weakness. "Your lascivious body makes a liar out of you. You love it when I fuck you. You love it more than anything else in the world. Say it." He slowed his rhythm a fraction, and focused on making each penetration more deeper, more intimate.
"Muraki!" Tsuzuki arched, his body galvanised by ecstasy. In his stroking hand, his cock was now fully erect, precome oozing from the slit. The warm wet heat of his insides tightened around Muraki's throbbing erection, creating a delicious velvet suction that drew Muraki irresistably to the brink of losing control.
Muraki exhaled sharply. "Say how much you love this...and I'll give you what you want. Say it!" He leaned forward and made one deep thrust to make his point.
Tsuzuki grasped his shoulders. His nails dug in Muraki's flesh like talons. His eyes were screwed shut. Sweat beaded his brow. There was a rustling sound...and a new growth of dark feathers slid out from behind his back and shoulders. These were glossy like a raven's wing, aligned in neat layers that fanned out against the rumpled sheets.
Muraki's jealous anger receded in the face of such ethereal beauty. "At last..." He reached out to touch them reverently. "I've never seen anything so beautiful."
"Remove them," Tsuzuki whispered. "They're disgusting, abhorrent...a mark of the fallen. I don't want to be seen like this." He buried his head against Muraki's shoulder.
"No. This is the mark of the chosen - the one who will rise above all." Muraki thrust deeply again.
"Ohh..." Stymied by the weight of Tsuzuki's body against the mattress, the black feathers quivered and rustled.
Muraki withdrew and tumbled them over so that he lay on his back. A bewildered Tsuzuki found himself on his knees, straddling Muraki's crotch. A crown of feathers adorned each of his shoulders like epaulettes, ruffling up of their own volition.
Muraki's grip was ironclad. There was no escape.
"Muraki, let me go-"
Muraki arched up with his pelvis. His cock slid along the cleft of Tsuzuki's buttocks, searching for entry.
"Please-"
Tsuzuki's twitching muscles gave him away. A slight adjustment to the angle of entry, and Muraki was sheathed once again in that delicious wet heat. This time there was no holding him back. With knees upraised and feet firmly placed on the mattress, Muraki surged and bucked like a wild horse. Impaled atop him, Tsuzuki had little choice but to ride out each of Muraki's ruthless thrusts.
Which he did - like a natural. He rose and fell in perfect counterpoint, lifting himself up as Muraki withdrew, only to drive himself down as Muraki rose up. His hands clutched Muraki's damp torso and ribcage, his thumbs circling hard nipples. His head was lowered, but his violet gaze glittered beneath his fringe of dark hair. With each thrust of Muraki's cock, the feathers multiplied and fanned out behind him.
Muraki was exultant. For years he had sought recognition in vain. He had been forgotten, ignored, rejected and despised by his idol. But in this primitive union of bodies, Tsuzuki was truly his. Perhaps he would never be loved any more than the rest...but it gave Muraki savage satisfaction knowing only he could make Tsuzuki transform.
"Rise!" he growled. The physical toil was beginning to tell on him. The rhythm of his thrusts grew jerky and erratic. Sweat trickled along the length of his torso. "Rise for me!"
Concern flashed in Tsuzuki's expression. "You're overdoing it..."
"Rise!" In a frenzy of motion, Muraki pounded himself into Tsuzuki with a series of fierce driving thrusts that made flesh slap against flesh. Pity was the last thing he wanted. The surge towards climax was building within him, the frustrated ache in his groin a physical manifestation of his own wounded pride. But with each thrust, the ache receded, and the waves of pleasure steadily grew. It washed over the anger and resentment and envy, and briefly replaced it with one single overriding objective.
Union - the fusion of two flawed halves into a perfect whole.
Muraki closed his eyes. He imagined he had wings of his own, long feathered limbs extending from his shoulder blades. He imagined using them to glide on an updraft of pleasure that led to the incinerating heat of the sun itself. Every single muscle in his body was straining for it, reaching higher and higher...
Tsuzuki groaned. Two budding wings fanned out from his back and shoulders, fluttering nervously. He rode Muraki harder than ever, the muscles of his ass squeezing and milking Muraki's erection - urging him to give up its precious reward.
With a groan of his own, Muraki gave in. He emptied his seed with a single thrust, every muscle tense, his entire body as taut as a wire.
Above him, Tsuzuki threw back his head. Two black wings sprouted out and up, powered by new muscle, supported by growing skeletal bone, flexing and extending as joints became active. Each wing extended to its full length, almost two metres above their owner's head. Gleaming black feathers were neatly arrayed - down and covert feathers nearer the bone, long primary feathers fanning out to the tip. Each of them quivered and trembled, so that the wing appeared to shimmer in the sunlight. The sound of their rustling reminded Muraki of tree leaves gripped by a gust of wind.
Muraki eased his body back onto the mattress. His legs felt like jelly, so he let his knees fall where they pleased. He was utterly spent. But it was worth it to see Tsuzuki like this - his true power unlocked and laid bare for all the world to see. The awareness of his identity and the responsibilities it entailed would follow soon enough.
The wings flapped once, then swept behind his back with a sharp swish of black feathers. A flurry of fluffy black down rained down on Muraki. The cat pawed at the few stray feathers that blew its way.
Tsuzuki came back to himself in degrees. He lowered his head and opened his eyes. He took in the vision of Muraki sprawled beneath him, and the feathers blanketing him. Quickly he dismounted to sit beside him on the bed, face covered in his hands.
To Muraki, he was like a newly fallen angel ashamed of its fate. Absolutely adorable.
"Tsk tsk! There's no hiding now." He tugged Tsuzuki's hands away, a little surprised at the effort required. The climax really had taken a lot out of him. "Don't be ashamed. Take a look at yourself. This is what you truly are."
Tsuzuki's hands slid down to his mouth. Shadows lingered around his fearful eyes, seemingly at odds with the sunlight streaming through the bedroom. "You once accused me...of being inhuman."
"Something other than human," Muraki amended. "Something special. Something far, far superior to mortal humans." Muraki's fingertips brushed the tips of glossy black primary and secondary wing feathers. The entire wing trembled at his touch. "And you are, ne? Just take a look at yourself."
Tsuzuki glanced over his left shoulder, then the right. His hands were clutched nervously together, as if he feared even the briefest contact with the strange appendages. "They look...unnatural...sinister..."
"Unnatural? How can one who can call on Wood to do his bidding consider himself unnatural? You are Nature itself. Your energy sustains and supports all living things. No, these wings are a part of you."
"They remind me of Saagatanus. I first wore them when he took control of my body-"
"Silence!" Muraki seized his hand. "With these hands you defeated him! Do not speak of him again!" He kissed the back of it. "All he did was channel his Fire energy within you. The regeneration cycle was set in motion, and thus your wings sprouted. I did something similar when I channelled my Metal energy within you to generate a Water attack. The damned dog took advantage of your guilt and ignorance by making them sprout, then maligning their divine nature. That is all."
"This isn't a cursed mark? It's not a sign of the damned?" Tsuzuki didn't quite believe - it was there in his troubled expression.
"Not at all." Muraki nibbled Tsuzuki's fingers. His intent was half-amorous, half-serious. His body felt lethargic and heavy, every muscle exhausted. Perhaps he could regain some energy by drawing them from Tsuzuki's fingertips. "These wings are a manifestation of your unleashed power. They are yours, and yours alone."
"Mine," Tsuzuki repeated. He looked at them again, disturbed. He shrugged his shoulders to see if he could make them move - nothing. He extended his arms wide - nothing. He bent his elbows to his sides and quickly flapped his arms up and down like a chicken - still nothing.
Muraki couldn't believe his eyes. It would've been hilarious if the actions weren't so profane. "Enough of that!" He sat up and shook Tsuzuki by the arm. "Are you mocking the sacred symbol of your strength? Are you belittling the majesty of your own powers?"
Tsuzuki was a little startled, yet unrepentant. "No, I want to see if they work - and they don't. If I don't know how they work, these wings can't be mine."
"They are yours! You've forgotten how to use them because you allowed Enma to seal your powers when you were first brought before JuOhCho for judgement all those years ago. That was the only way he could take you, God of Wood, the bearer of Life, and transform you into the finest harbinger of Death!" Muraki winced as a wave of dizziness came over him, but continued anyway. "He knew the four Major shikigami who govern the elements would flock to serve you - sealed or unsealed, they would have no trouble recognising one of their own kind. Hence Suzaku, Souryuu, Byakko and Genbu, the four who once brought life into the world, now effectively serve Enma, through you, to take life away! Tell me why you allow such blasphemy to occur!"
Tsuzuki bowed his head. "JuOhCho decreed that I serve as a shinigami as penance for my sins. I was responsible for the massacre of an entire village: not just men, but women and children as well. You may think you have many deaths to your name, but there are hundreds of people who died cursing mine."
"Really?" Muraki reclined back against the headboard. Sitting up was too tiring for him, but he wanted to hear more. "Do you recall what happened?"
"I...I don't remember well. There was a drought. Crops failed, followed by a famine. Disease spread through our village. My family alone was spared. We were accused of bringing ill fortune onto the village." His black wings twitched and trembled, mirroring his agitation. "They came after us. They murdered my mother, then my sister...and the next thing I remember, they were lying on the ground, every one of them dead. I don't remember how. I don't think I want to remember." He covered his eyes. "Maybe Enma was right to seal me. If sealing my power is the only way to prevent this happening again-"
"Nonsense! Saagatanus still managed to break your seal and use your power against you, ne? Even I managed to manipulate you in Kyoto by planting doubts in your mind - doubts that thrived because of your fear and ignorance. This seal has caused you nothing but needless anguish and pain, for this Wood energy is an integral part of who you are! Your shikigami serve you with unquestioning loyalty because of it! Humans and demons are drawn to you because of it! Without your power, you are little more than a terrified, cowering shadow of your true self! Is that how you want to remain for all eternity?"
Tsuzuki dropped his hand. "I don't know..." The wings dropped down and folded against his back. "I guess not. You won't allow me to remain unchanged in any case. Unsealing me has been your goal the whole time." He regarded Muraki steadily. "Sometimes I wonder which matters the most to you: me or my power?"
"You are your power - they are one and the same," Muraki retorted. "Including these lovely wings. You move them unconsciously, you know. You must learn to use your mind, not your muscles. Come, let me examine them."
Tsuzuki bent his head in concentration. Slowly one wing extended halfway, then swung towards Muraki.
Muraki was entranced. He stroked along the smaller covert and down feathers up to thin muscle and delicate bone. He gently grasped the limb and extended it wide so that the primary and secondary feathers fanned out before him.
"Does it please you?" Tsuzuki asked.
"Very much," Muraki whispered. He stroked the alula feathers that concealed the thumb joint, then back along the limb itself, feeling each and every joint he could find. "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Come, let me examine the other wing."
Tsuzuki obliged. Both his wings were curled forward, the feathers spilling over Muraki's shoulders in a feathery embrace. "Am I more pleasing with them than without them?"
"Indeed you are...much, much more pleasing." Muraki rubbed his cheek against them like a contented cat, then leaned forward to run his lips against the coverlet feathers draping the skeletal frame. Their silken texture entranced him.
So lost was he in tactile bliss he failed to see the tension in Tsuzuki's unhappy face.
Muraki nuzzled the inside of one black wing where it joined Tsuzuki's shoulder blade. He could feel the nervous twitching of delicate muscles. "Ticklish?" He exhaled sharply, and smiled when the feathers ruffled against his face.
"A little." Tsuzuki flapped the wing until Muraki let it go. "I have to go back now."
"Hmmph." Muraki reclined back against the headboard, too weary to fight. "Very well, go back to Meifu. Show off your beautiful wings to them, and see how they receive you. Discover for yourself if they will truly accept you for what you are." He lifted his arms above his head and stretched, a long languorous movement that flaunted his lean physique.
Tsuzuki's stare was longing. His wings lifted slightly behind his back, like a bird eager to take flight.
"Or you could stay here with me." Muraki shifted down the bed so he lounged on the pillows. "Lie with me and shelter me with your wings. Here in my arms you will always find a home. Only I can worship and adore you in the manner you deserve, for I have borne witness to the real you." He gazed up at Tsuzuki through seductive half-closed eyes. "The choice is yours."
Muraki sighed. His eyelids felt so heavy. He was tired, so utterly tired. But he felt confident he had argued his case well. Even if Tsuzuki chose to return to Meifu temporarily, he would come back again soon. Of that, Muraki was certain. They had shared in a communion of blood. Tsuzuki was awakening, and would depend on him more than ever...
For a god without his followers was no god at all.
Tsuzuki looked at the black wings again - twin mounds that peered over each shoulder in silent accusation of his lustful conduct. How was he going to conceal them beneath his clothes? Even when laid against his back, they made him appear like some grotesque humpback. His colleagues in the Shoukanka would know something was amiss. Somehow he had to make them disappear.
He turned back. "Muraki?"
Muraki was fast asleep. His chest rose and fell slowly. The sweat on his body sparkled in the morning sunlight, giving him an ethereal appearance that softened his typical anemic pallor.
"He sacrificed much of his essence to worship you," the cat mewed. "He must rest now so he may recover."
"I...I never wanted him to sacrifice anything. I should've stopped him..." He looked down at Muraki again. "I fear one day he'll give so much that he'll never recover."
"But this is how he brings glory to your name."
Tsuzuki shook his head violently. "I don't want glory! I don't want to be worshipped if Muraki has to make himself ill to do it!" His wings shook and fluttered behind him as well.
The cat cringed before the flurry of black feathers. "So what is the best way for him to gain your favour? What offering would you like instead?"
"His trust. But he won't ever give me that, will he?" Tsuzuki's shoulders slumped, and the wings fell with them. "He values me for my power, that's all."
The cat huddled in a ball. "That is not true. He has spoken of your bountiful generosity and mercy. You are the Tree that bears the Fruit of Life. You will nourish and sustain those who seek sanctuary beneath the canopy of your branches. Through your sheltering leaves, the life-giving Light shines bright."
"Generous? Merciful? I'm nothing of the kind." Tsuzuki leaned over the sleeping Muraki, his face sad. "I've been blind to his advances for years. All his macabre talk about offering me corpses, and now himself - I never understood what he was trying to achieve." He caressed the silver hair resting over the high forehead. "You've worshipped me for so long. You've given me offering after offering, waiting for me to awaken and acknowledge you. Maybe it's time for me to give you something back in return." His fingers stroked a pale cheek, and lingered over bloodless lips.
"The Light is the giver of life," the cat reminded him. "What the Light takes away it will return ten-fold."
The words reverberated in Tsuzuki's mind, taunting him...and promising him. Muraki was weak and vulnerable - he was in no position to resist. He remained Metal-deficient, and needed essence more than ever. As the one who had deprived Muraki of energy, Tsuzuki knew it was his responsibility to make up for Muraki's deficit.
If Muraki's trust would forever be denied to him, then what was the point in proving himself trustworthy? Better to breach that trust and restore Muraki's energy than do nothing and watch Muraki decline into lethargic stupor.
He looked at the cat, his mind made up. "What the Light takes away it will return ten-fold," he repeated. "Remind him of that when he wakes up." He found the jar of lubricant and slowly oiled himself with it.
The cat's eyes widened. "He must be awake to receive nourishment."
"It's my fault that he's too tired to even open his eyes. By nourishing him, I'll rouse him awake...and then he can give me thanks and praise just like you said."
The cat sat up, tail lashing anxiously. "Yes, but he must be awake-"
"I'm trying to help him, believe me. Once I energise him, his blood will be rich in spiritual energy - more than enough for you to take your fill." Tsuzuki lay beside Muraki, then swept his wings forward so Muraki was enveloped in black feathers. "Once I'm done, I assure you he'll be wide awake."
"I know." Reluctantly, the cat lay down. "But he will not be pleased."
Tsuzuki snuggled against Muraki so that they lay facing each other. He nuzzled the aristocratic nose, placed a chaste kiss on his lips, then nibbled the angular chin. Muraki didn't respond, but his lips did curl in the faintest of smiles.
Tsuzuki stroked him gently from shoulder to hip - the way a mother soothes an irritable babe. He nuzzled the graceful long throat and felt the pulse with his lips. The rhythm was thready and fast, barely palpable. A bad sign.
"Wake up, Muraki." He ruffled his wings against the sleeping man. "If you don't need me to re-energise you, then prove it and wake up." The ticklish sensation didn't rouse Muraki one bit.
Slowly Tsuzuki nudged Muraki's legs apart with one knee. The lack of resistance was disturbing. Muraki was limp, his muscles non-existent. His vitality and vigor was gone.
Looming over him, Tsuzuki situated himself between Muraki's thighs. He would never have a better chance.
With his wings extended slightly for balance, Tsuzuki lifted Muraki's knees up. Although his cock was erect, Tsuzuki felt no passion for his self-imposed task, no triumph at being so close to fulfilling his heartfelt wish. His desire felt hollow and empty - driven by little more than physiological imperative.
He lowered himself down, his eyes never leaving Muraki's face. His wings fluttered nervously behind him, in preparation for resistance. If Muraki had enough energy to fight him off, then he would immediately retreat.
Muraki shifted slightly beneath him, and let out a sigh. The fact that he didn't stir was proof of how depleted he was.
Tsuzuki paused, his breath caught in his throat. His cock had twitched and hardened at the involuntary movement. Now it nestled below Muraki's testicles, nudging the cleft of his ass.
A hard mocking voice whispered in Tsuzuki's mind: He'll never forgive you. He'll never forgive you. Remember the grudge he held for his despised half-brother. Deprive him of his control, and he'll never forgive you.
I don't care, he told himself. As long as Muraki remains alive, that's all that matters.
Carefully he eased his way inside. There was an initial resistance to his entry, a certain tightness that made him hesitate despite Muraki's stillness. Was it meant to be so difficult? Tsuzuki changed the angle of his hips to see if it would help - and was rewarded with a sudden slide into the wet warmth of Muraki's ass.
Tsuzuki trembled. It felt good. He was surprised at how good it felt, despite Muraki's lack of involvement. He withdrew slowly, then carefully slid inside a second time. No resistance. A little tendril of physical pleasure unfurled within him.
But emotionally, Tsuzuki felt numb. Muraki wasn't moving, apart from the passive movements of their joined bodies. He showed no sign of enjoyment...or abhorrence. He might as well have been a sex doll.
A horrible idea struck him: Is this what Muraki experienced when he raped Hisoka? But how could he gloat about something so mechanical and empty, an act devoid of any meaning except satiating primitive lust?
Perhaps by doing this, he'd finally sunk to Muraki's level as well. Maybe his altruistic motives were little more than camouflage for his own base desire...
Tsuzuki froze. Even his cock was deflating, disappointed to be surrounded by what amounted to nothing more than a lump of flesh.
On the nightstand, the cat was watching anxiously, tail lashing. "Why don't you continue?"
"I...I don't feel like it."
"Do you prefer to be the one receiving nourish-"
"No, that's not it! I just wish...he'd respond a little..."
Muraki's eyelids flickered. Red light shone dimly from both of his hooded eyes. His face was otherwise blank.
"Muraki, is that you?"
But Tsuzuki knew it wasn't. This was Muraki the zombie - a captive of the kagetsu spell. But why was the spell being activated now?
Muraki turned his head. The eyes opened properly, revealing twin slits of eerie red light.
Like a rabbit caught in the headlights, Tsuzuki waited in dread for Muraki's next move. Invading his mind had triggered a violent response; violating his body would only evoke more of the same.
Muraki's legs tightened around Tsuzuki's torso. The muscles of his ass rippled and flexed, coming to life for the first time.
Tsuzuki gasped. It felt incredible. His wings lifted behind him in surprise. This rippling pleasure was like nothing he had ever felt before...exquisitely sweet, yet intensely unbearable. His cock was hard in an instant, and his body didn't need further encouragement. Mindlessly he rocked his hips in and out, driven by his own craven desires and the hard pressure of Muraki's heels digging into the small of his back, urging him on. He gripped Muraki's thighs for support. His partly unfolded wings made small pumping movements at the wrist and elbow, unconsciously mimicking his thrusts.
But this wasn't Muraki. The blank face, the glowing red eyes...who was this creature? Panting against the waves of sensation that threatened to drown what rational thought he had left, Tsuzuki watched Muraki's face for even the slightest flicker of recognition. He didn't want to nourish this zombie. He wanted the old Muraki back, the one he knew best.
"Muraki..." He could barely say the words, so slurred was his voice with arousal. "I know...you're there. Muraki...say something. Ohh..."
Speech was becoming difficult in the grip of physical ecstasy. Despite his expressionless face, this zombified Muraki possessed a lusty physical appetite that took Tsuzuki's breath away. His legs clutched Tsuzuki's waist in a vice-like grip. Those amazingly mobile pelvic muscles never eased their frenzied squeezing. Bemusedly, Tsuzuki realized being on top made little difference, for once again he was helpless in his enjoyment - overtaken by the zombie's avaricious demands. All he wanted to do was thrust over and over like a rutting bull, and achieve the release that was almost within reach.
He shut his eyes so he didn't have to see the glowing red slits. He imagined it was the real Muraki beneath him, permitting him this ultimate intimacy. If only it were true.
If only...
His body didn't have such reservations. The climax was sudden and explosive, a lightning bolt that stunned Tsuzuki to his foundations. He buckled forward and emptied everything he had in one fierce thrust. He threw his wings high behind himself like a parachute, every feather fanned out behind him - reflexively balancing himself so he wouldn't crush Muraki beneath him. A flurry of little downy feathers fell loose and floated around them both.
From the nightstand, the cat stared, mouth agape.
The zombie convulsed. The eyes glowed a burning red. His skin glowed with a slight flush. His lips parted in a grimace that resembled Muraki's typical sneer. Then suddenly his body went limp, and the red light dimmed to darkness.
"Muraki?" Gasping for breath, Tsuzuki eased himself out. "Muraki...are you all right?"
Muraki's eyelids fluttered open. "Tsuzuki-san..." he muttered hoarsely. He looked up, his confused gaze taking in the view of Tsuzuki perched between his legs, glossy black wings spread wide like a billowing silk cape.
Relief swept over Tsuzuki. The Muraki he knew was back. "You're awake! I'm so glad you've regained your energy-"
As if to prove Tsuzuki correct, Muraki jack-knifed to a sitting position and seized Tsuzuki by the throat with both hands. He hauled Tsuzuki up with superhuman ease, like a farmer grasping the broken neck of a freshly killed chicken. Without a word, he hurled a stunned Tsuzuki onto the floor.
Tsuzuki crashed flat onto his back, right next to the discarded wooden cane. The fragile bones of his wings splintered beneath him with a loud crack. The piercing pain along his shoulder blades was instant and agonizing. Blood oozed from the twin sets of lacerations on his throat, courtesy of Muraki's talons.
"What are you doing?" the cat shrieked. "He sheltered you beneath his wings! He gave you sustenance when you descended into the valley of oblivion! He is fulfilling his prophecy as foretold, so why are you-"
Muraki seized the cat by the scruff of its neck. "Silence!" He hurled the cat away as well. It hit the wall then landed awkwardly atop one of Tsuzuki's broken wings.
Tsuzuki hissed. He tried to get himself up on his elbows. Inadvertently he pinned his crushed wings against the ground, triggering a new spasm of excruciating pain. Rolling on his side only trapped one wing against his body, bringing more pain as well.
He had to move. He had to get away. Desperately he began to recite the spell that would return him back to Meifu - until a brutal grip seized his throat once more.
"You will pay." Looming over him, Muraki was cold, calculating, and utterly ruthless. "I vowed never again. Never ever again. I vowed to make Saki pay...and I make the same vow before you." His false eye shone white light.
Tsuzuki lay passively beneath him. He couldn't even lift his arms to defend himself. Simply shrugging his shoulders was too painful. His body was healing slowly - too slowly for him to escape Muraki's wrath.
"You...needed it. Not enough...Metal energy. I activated...regeneration cycle...in you..."
"Liar! All I needed was rest! I would have fed again on my terms when I was ready!" Muraki was becoming agitated in his anger.
"But you did. The part of you protected by the shadow spell...welcomed it. Welcomed me..."
"Liar!" Muraki tightened his grip. "I would never allow it. Never!"
The cat pounced on his hands, claws bared. "He nourished you! Leave him be!"
Muraki shoved it away. "You forget your place!" He glared back at Tsuzuki. "And you as well. I am the one who awakened you, ne? I taunted and tormented you in the same way Metal prunes Wood, for it is in your nature to thrive in adversity. Your growing power, your increasing mastery - you owe everything to me!" He locked his hands around Tsuzuki's throat. "I gave all this to you, and so I can it take away. Metal controls Wood, ne?"
Tsuzuki couldn't breathe. Although his immortal body didn't need oxygen to survive, the pain and fear of suffocation was all too real. Vainly he groped at Muraki's hands without success...and then he fumbled for the ebony cane by his side, and gripped it with all his might.
The inert cane crackled to life. It sprouted branches of hooked thorns that grew towards Muraki like a climbing vine, twining over his arms to prick his flesh, reaching higher for his face. For a few stunned seconds, Muraki simply watched in complete amazement. Then he staggered to his feet, wrestling wildly with the clambering thorn bush. He sent one branch cracking into pieces as he yanked one arm free, only to find another branch biting into his wrist again.
Tsuzuki gingerly sat up, eyes watering, gasping for breath. The cuts on his throat no longer bled.
"Tch!" Muraki snapped off thorn branch after thorn branch. Each time he broke one off, two sprouted to take their place. The cane was now a mass of thorns twining around Muraki's arms. "Such ingratitude! I gave this to you as a gift! You dare use my gift against me?"
"I dare." Tsuzuki clambered to his feet, still clutching the other end of the transformed cane - now the main branch of a thorn bush. Both his wings hung awkwardly down his back - they were so badly fractured he couldn't move them any longer. "Don't assume you can control me simply because you wield Metal."
Muraki glared at him. "I don't assume, Tsuzuki-san. I know." With one vicious snap, he cleaved the thorn bush in two and threw them on the ground.
Tsuzuki was left holding a wooden stump. Somehow it seemed a curiously fitting symbol of their entire relationship.
"Shall I prove it again - using your wings, perhaps? You have no use of them any longer, ne? I placed them on you - and I can tear them from you as well." He stepped towards Tsuzuki, one hand raised menacingly before him.
Tsuzuki channelled his power once more. Hooked thorns grew outwards, reaching for Muraki. "If there's anyone who's ungrateful here, it's you. You wanted me to feed you and nourish you - that's exactly what I did. I gave you my essence, the source of my power." He glanced down at the wood. "You only want me for my power, right? Well, congratulations. Now you've got some of that as well."
Muraki's anger cooled to icy disdain. "If you believe that, you understand nothing at all." Without warning he turned away, pulled on his yukata, then went to the nightstand. "Get out. See how well you can rid yourself of your wings without my incisive assistance." He lit a cigarette with swift, automatic movements. Only an acute observer would have noticed the slight tremor in his hands.
There was a rustle of feathers, then silence.
The next time Muraki dared to turn around, he found his bedroom floor covered in bloody black feathers. Lying atop them was the cat, rolling in the feathers and lapping at the blood.
"Traitor," he muttered from between clenched teeth. "You will pay for this - you and him."
"You told me to observe and not interfere!" the cat yowled back. "Did I not tell you the method of feeding makes no difference?" It lashed its tail and returned to licking the blood.
Muraki grasped the bedside lamp, then reluctantly thought better of it. He picked up one pillow, took careful aim and knocked the cat over with one decisive thump.
In the Hall of Candles, the violet candle exploded into a spectacular torch of billowing flames. It surged up high to scorch the ceiling, then spilled over the top of the open glass chimney of the lamp, licking at the air with greedy tongues of flame for any oxygen it could find.
From a safe distance several metres away, Hakushaku paused in the middle of sipping his cup of morning tea. "Amazing," he commented to no one in particular. "I could've sworn it was on the verge of dying out for good." He rang the servant's bell.
A few seconds later, Watson charged in, fully dressed in fireman's uniform. "Shall I put it out this time, Hakushaku-sama?"
"Not at all, Watson. Someone has gone to a great deal of effort to tend this flame - a great deal of effort." Hakushaku let out a theatrical sigh of regret. "Oh, what I would've given to be a fly on the wall."
Watson couldn't imagine why anyone would want to be a fly or any other insect, so he kept a discreet silence.
"Extinguishing it now when it's burning with such vigor would be like ...well, like stomping on a child's sandcastle or stealing candy from a babe."
"I see," Watson said. "Too easy?"
"Why, yes, and most unsportsmanlike. The child would never forgive me if he discovered I ended the life of his new pet and playmate."
The violet flames curled down to lick experimentally at the table.
"Hmm." Hakushaku tapped the side of his mask thoughtfully. "Then again, neither do I wish to see the Hall of Candles go up in violet flames, no matter how pretty the sight."
Watson nodded eagerly. "Neither do I, Hakushaku-sama."
"Very well then. Clear one of my spare salons of all furnishings, and fireproof it from floor to ceiling. Let's give this greatly-blessed candle a room of its own."
In his apartment, Tsuzuki seized everything wooden he could find. Tables, chairs, cupboards, drawers, even chopsticks and pencils - he touched them all, and tried to channel what Wood energy he had left. Each object he touched took on properties of natural wood - polished surfaces became gnarled and rough, darkened knots formed budding branches. His feathers moulted around him, revealing the fragile skin and muscle beneath. The carpal bones of the digits crumbled, leaving behind the bones of the upper wings. His long graceful wings were nothing more than stubby-looking appendages rising from his shoulder blades.
When the wings refused to shrivel any further, Tsuzuki tore his bedsheets into strips, and wrapped what remained tight against his body. Beneath his clothing of shirt, vest and trenchcoat, there would be little obvious difference apart from a slight broadening of his shoulders. There was a persistent ache across his back that continued to trouble him. Any pain he experienced was usually transitory because of his healing abilities. But this one niggled him, like an itch he couldn't quite scratch.
He thought of Muraki and his long nails. Muraki would've known how to cure this. However, Muraki wasn't going to welcome him back. Muraki never wanted to see him again.
He eyed his sombre reflection in the mirror. Had he been too greedy, too impulsive? Should he have just left Muraki in his stupor and returned to Meifu? No, surely not.
And Muraki's shadow spell - the spell that numbed his heart to painful emotions - had facilitated their coupling. Even if Muraki refused to admit it, the kagetsu magic had risen to the fore to ensure his survival.
But who with kagetsu magic would place a protective spell on Muraki?
Tsuzuki had the uneasy feeling the answer was right here in Meifu.
"Hey, Tsuzuki!" Watari, with 003 preening herself on his shoulder, was bright and cheery as usual in his laboratory. "How are you doing? A bit late again, I see. Busy night?"
"No, nothing of the kind." Tsuzuki laughed at the very idea. "Just woke up late again. So what have you found?"
"Take a look at this!" Watari opened a folder, and laid out several graphs. "This one here - this is a sample of the hair analysis from my sample. See all the bars - the level of minirals are all in the normal range. And here's a sample from 003 - again, all pretty much normal. But look at the results of the sample you gave me." He pointed at a bar graph that consisted of axes, with no bars in sight.
Tsuzuki blinked at it. "I don't see anything."
"Exactly! No mineral readings at all! And the earlier sample from Kyoto isn't much better either. Now mineral testing with hair sampling can be a bit erratic, but to have almost no reading at all..." Watari scratched his head. "It's not compatible with life!"
"Could this be caused by some illness or disease?" Tsuzuki asked.
"Well, not a specific disease. The most common cause of a deficiency in multiple mineral is gross malnutrition." Watari looked at Tsuzuki. "Hey, you're not cooking for him, are you? I don't mean to be rude, but you know that your cooking isn't exactly-"
Tsuzuki flushed in embarrassed anger. "I assure you I'm not cooking for him, Watari!"
"Okay, okay! I was just making sure." Watari began collecting the graphs. "Anyway, the fact remains that he should be at death's door according to these readings. No human can survive with absolutely no mineral elements in their system! It's impossible according to medical science!"
Impossible perhaps, but it confirmed Tsuzuki's suspicions. Feeding the cat alone would not cause such extensive mineral deficiency. Somehow Muraki was converting the minerals himself - the physical Metal in his body - into pure Metal energy to maintain his powers. There was no demon parasite feeding from him; Muraki had simply chosen to cannibalise himself.
Supplying him with Wood essence seemed to regenerate the Metal energy within him...but did it help restore the lost minerals? Maybe it did. Muraki did seem more flushed, more healthy-looking after feeding. But it never lasted long, for Muraki was quick to either flaunt his Metal powers or empty his essence once again into Tsuzuki's willing body.
Tsuzuki frowned. Two steps forward, one step back. No wonder Muraki still looked pale and thin - and remained as sexually rapacious as ever.
"How did you know he'd be so severely mineral deficient?" Watari asked. "To be honest, a sharp-eyed doctor might have picked up on the signs: the pale complexion, the lack of hair pigmentation. But you don't have medical training, do you?"
"No. It was a lucky guess." Tsuzuki reached down to pick up a graph that had slipped to the floor. It was another bar graph with results in the normal range, but a little different to 003's and Watari's results. When he read the name at the top of the page, his heart plummeted.
"Tsuzuki, I tried but I couldn't stop him-"
"Hisoka knows about these tests? Watari, how could you?"
"Bon ambushed me last night! He knew you'd been coming to the lab, and he figured out I was helping you. He's not a fool, Tsuzuki. You're going to have to tell him sooner or later!"
Tsuzuki rubbed his forehead. "You're right. He of all people deserves to know."
"And you need to tell him soon, before others get to him first," Watari warned. "The fact is, there are others out there who are watching us - watching you. You can't expect to conduct secret visits to the land of the living every night and not be noticed."
Tsuzuki lifted his head. "Are you telling me this as a fellow shinigami, or as one with the inside knowledge of the JuOhCho information network?"
Watari chuckled, but his keen dark eyes were intent, almost sly. "Both. There's an old saying: When the cat's away, the mice will play." He shrugged easily. "Your playtime's nearly over, Tsuzuki. The cats have been watching you all this time, and your fellow mice aren't too happy either."
"I see. Thanks for the tip." Tsuzuki didn't try to hide the irony in his voice. "But what does that make you, Watari - a cat or a mouse? Or maybe you're the consummate scientist, observing us all from the safety of your lab."
"Nah, no baffling human subjects for me. Give me the predictability of my experiments any day." He waved his hand over a glistening array of beakers, flasks and coiled tubes laid out on a solid wooden bench.
One good jolt of Wood energy would send that bench heaving - and Watari's glassware tumbling to the floor. The thought of turning that idea into reality was tempting...too tempting.
He rose to his feet and thrust his clenched hands in his trouser pockets. "Then I'll leave you to it. Like you said, it's high time I spoke to Hisoka."
Thanks to Gengkotsuya for her help. A big thanks too for those who've kindly sent in feedback.