"Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven."
John Milton - Paradise Lost
Back in Muraki's apartment, Tsuzuki pulled on a pair of trousers. His black wings made it impossible to wear a shirt.
"That bastard! I should've known!"
Tsuzuki whirled around. He needed wooden objects to absorb his excess energy. But the decor of Muraki's penthouse suite was modern and minimalist, with furnishings of steel and glass. "He did this to me on purpose!"
Tsuzuki stormed to the kitchen, and yanked open drawers to find chopsticks, wooden spoons, and a chopping board. Within seconds he transformed them into a tangled mess of thick vines and thorny branches. "That liar! He said I could cure others, so why can't I cure myself?"
The cat leapt up on the bench. "Why are you ashamed of the symbol of your power? Why do you fear your true nature?"
"I never wanted this! All I wanted...was to be normal!" Tsuzuki pushed the newly-created plant life aside. His wings remained unchanged, folded high over his shoulders. "When I find Muraki, I'm going to kill him!"
"Kill him?" the cat yowled. "Are you serious?"
"Well, I wish I could! But I need his Metal power to counteract this!"
The cat looked down at its claws. "Once upon a time, Metal energy was plentiful in the material world, along with its active manifestation, Wind. Once upon a time, the four elemental spirits danced, and the world was blessed by their powers."
"The world isn't like that anymore." Tsuzuki pulled one of his wings forward. He splayed the wingtip on the kitchen bench with one hand, and lifted up a meat cleaver with the other.
"Material metal is not enough," the cat warned him. "You mustn't-"
Tsuzuki slammed the blade down, and let out a howl of pain. The excruciating agony of torn muscle and crushed bone sizzled along the length of his wing, and radiated into his shoulder.
He dropped the cleaver and staggered back. The injured wing, partially severed, flapped behind him, splattering blood on the kitchen floor.
The cat lashed its tail. "Stop it! This is sacrilege! You mustn't mutilate yourself! You bear the Fruit of Life!"
Buckled over, Tsuzuki was gasping for breath. He'd been shot, stabbed, torn apart - but this pain was unbearable. "That...was...a bad idea."
The cat leapt down to the floor beside Tsuzuki. "The one you call Muraki is not the only source of Metal energy." It gazed hungrily at the bloody wing, and licked its lips. "Once upon a time, I could have pruned your wings for you."
"But...I thought demons...only used Fire."
The cat lapped at the drops of blood on the floor. "Only because we had no choice after the partition. I chose to live in this reality with borrowed Fire than be captive in Gensoukai." It held up one paw to reveal curved claws of gleaming silver.
"You were...a Metal shikigami?"
"Yes, but I specialised in Wind, the active manifestation of Metal." The cat lashed its tail. "My inherent Metal power is not what it once was, but perhaps I can still help. Do you wish to remain dormant in human form?"
"Yes! I can't go after...Muraki like this! I can't let...anyone else see me..." His black wings trembled above him in agitation.
The cat crouched low on its stomach. With gaze lifted, it crept closer until it was directly beneath the bloody wingtip.
At close range, Tsuzuki could see its eyes. The slitted pupil glowed red, and the grey iris was clouded over with a tinge of aqua green.
He had the strangest feeling he had seen eyes like this before.
With silver teeth bared, the cat sprang up.
"My...body?" Hisoka repeated. "Why?"
"Why not? I still have fond memories of our night together, as I'm sure you do as well." Muraki's voice was low and soothing. "You were beautiful that night with your pale porcelain flesh and limpid green eyes. The finest doll in my collection could not compare to you. And thanks to your position as a Shinigami, you remain just as beautiful now."
"No..." Hisoka wanted to move. He wanted to hurl his attack fuda. He wanted to turn around and run away. But he was rooted to the spot by frozen horror...and there was something hypnotic about Muraki's deep melodic voice.
Muraki smiled and stepped closer. "But you are. No need to be modest. In fact, you look even more beautiful than I recall." He brushed his silver hair from his forehead. His false eye began to glow.
Hisoka couldn't look away. He was mesmerised by that eerie false eye.
"Leave him alone!" Gushoshin Younger squawked. He flew up until he hovered high above Muraki's head. "Leave him alone or I'll attack!"
Muraki cast him a hostile glance. "I'd like to see you try." He raised his hand up. Brilliant white light radiated from his palm.
Gushoshin scrunched his eyes shut. "Don't look at him, Hisoka-san! Close your eyes and run!" He dive-bombed Muraki butt first.
Muraki sidestepped. Gushoshin Younger whooshed past his shoulder and slammed into the grass at Muraki's feet. The next instant he was hoisted up in the air again, held aloft by Muraki's grip around his throat.
"You dare to interrupt us?" Muraki fixed the bird spirit with the white glow emanating from his false eye. "Do you not know the special past he and I share?"
"I don't care about you!" Gushoshin Younger squirmed, talons scrabbling wildly in mid-air, eyes still shut. "Hisoka-san, wake up!"
Hisoka blinked. Someone was calling him. A dim corner of his mind knew there was something important he needed to do.
"I cursed him, and yet I saved him." Muraki brought Gushoshin closer, exposing him to the full glare of the white light. "I saved him from a fate worse than death. He comes from a family line that has been condemned to suffer horribly for the sins of their forefathers. Why, I understand at the time of his death, his own father rejoiced in the knowledge he would be spared the wretched fate of succeeding him as heir."
The hypnotic allure of Muraki's voice tugged Hisoka back into the trance. In his mind's eye, he saw the stern face of his father - always critical, always disapproving of his sickly son with the freakish ability to sense the emotions of others.
Perhaps Muraki was right. Perhaps his father had rejoiced at his death - the death of the son he had never loved.
"Shut up, you liar!" Gushoshin Younger squawked, eyes still shut by sheer force of will. "I don't believe you! Ignore him, Hisoka-san! Snap out of it!"
"Save your breath. He can't ignore me. That night I cursed him, I made him my puppet - compliant and obedient to my every whim." Muraki turned to Hisoka. "Why do you frown, boy? Do you still long for the fatherly affection you were denied in your short life?" He tilted Hisoka's jaw up. "Be sad no more. Your master has returned. Submit to me, and rest assured I will give you a night to remember. Pain isn't the only sensation transmitted by the curse, ne?"
The bird spirit opened his eyes to see Muraki looming over Hisoka's lips. "You despicable pervert! At least with Tsuzuki-san you were picking on someone your own size!"
Muraki turned his head. Gushoshin Younger was struck by the full glare of the false eye. His gaze turned blank, and his body went limp.
Muraki tossed the bird spirit over his shoulder. "Now then, where were we?"
Hisoka frowned. There was something important he had to do...something very important...
"Come, my dear puppet." It was mid-afternoon and the park was deserted. There was no one around to witness Muraki lead a dazed Hisoka to the shade of a mature fig tree. "Your body in exchange for your partner's - what could be a fairer deal? Do you agree to abide by my terms?"
What terms? The low hypnotic voice was like a soothing lullaby. The individual words made no sense at all to Hisoka's befuddled mind.
"You want to save Tsuzuki-san, don't you?" With unhurried patience, Muraki began freeing one of Hisoka's arms from the denim jacket.
Hisoka did not resist. He gazed into space as he mulled over Muraki's question. "Yes. Tsuzuki gets into trouble...if I'm not there for him."
"How noble of you." Muraki's hands went still for a moment. "Is it typical for all servants of Enma to be burdened with a tedious saviour complex?"
Hisoka's brow furrowed in thought. An alarm bell went off in his mind, penetrating the foggy stupor. Tsuzuki...
Muraki removed the rest of the jacket, leaving Hisoka in his T-shirt. "I don't know how you managed to wear this on such a warm day. Doesn't that feel better now?" He tossed it to the ground.
Hisoka tried to speak. "Tsuzuki..." he murmured.
"Never mind him. I have no need for him and his tiresome games any longer." Muraki picked up Hisoka's hands. "Now let me see my handiwork - the beautiful reminder of our first night beneath the sakura tree." He turned each arm over, studying the pale forearms.
The skin was unmarked. There was no curse to be seen.
Muraki crouched before him. "What is this? Surely you haven't forgotten your master." Muraki frowned in puzzlement. "Where is my handiwork? Where is the mark of my possession?"
"Where is...Tsuzuki?"
Muraki pulled one sleeve up to Hisoka's shoulder. "I can't believe I spent hours inscribing it on your flesh...only to find the canvas bare." He stood up and roughly pulled Hisoka's T-shirt over his head. "There must be some trace of it here."
Nothing on his chest or abdomen. Nothing on his back. The elaborate curlicues and intertwining red lines were nowhere to be seen.
Muraki shook him by the forearms. His false eye glowed an angry red. "Where is it? Where is the curse?"
Hisoka's gaze remained glazed, but his mouth was compressed in a grim line. Inside, he was wrestling the hypnotic fog with all his might. "Where is...Tsuzuki?" he asked in a louder voice.
The light from Muraki's eye gleamed brighter still. "It's not your place to ask questions, boy. Explain how you rid yourself of the curse."
Hisoka tried to pull away. "I've got to find...Tsuzuki."
Muraki pulled him back. "Silence! Tell me what became of the curse!"
"Tsuzuki...Tsuzuki..." Hisoka repeated it over and over like a mantra. Each time he said it aloud, the fog seemed to recede a little more.
"You think Tsuzuki-san will come to your rescue?" Muraki sneered. He leaned closer to speak in his ear. "Have you noticed how tired and distracted he is lately? Has he been turning up late to work, only to disappear mysteriously in the afternoon? Have you wondered what he's been up to without you following him around like a lost puppy?"
Hisoka went silent. Doubt assailed his mind.
Tsuzuki doesn't want me as a partner anymore.
"You want to see Tsuzuki-san? You want to see the true form of your dear partner?" Muraki's chuckle held malicious glee. "Be careful for what you wish for, boy."
The fog grew thick once more. Hisoka's shoulders slumped, and his arms fell limp.
"There, that's more like it." Reassured of his power, Muraki released him and stood up. "That's how a puppet should be: nice and quiet." He walked around Hisoka, inspecting his bare torso from every angle.
That curse had been his masterpiece - proof of the power granted to him on that fateful night he made a contract with a God of Death. It was inconceivable that his work of art could be eradicated without a trace. The longer he stared at the blank canvas of Hisoka's flesh, the more his outrage grew.
Were the curse marks concealed from view? But how? Surely he as the original spellcaster would be able to sense it regardless? Unless...
His gaze fell to the shadows at Hisoka's feet. It was difficult to tell them apart from the shifting shadows cast by the tree's branches. But his intuition sensed something wasn't right about them.
"Well, well," he murmured. The glow in his false eye winked out. "Has someone else laid a hand on you?"
Hisoka wasn't listening. He was well and truly trapped in the mire of self-doubt.
I'm no use to Tsuzuki. I'm no use to anyone. I was worthless when I was alive, and I'm still worthless in the afterlife.
Muraki observed the glistening wetness at the corner of Hisoka's eyes. His puppet was forlorn and miserable...yet it wasn't his doing.
"Who was it? Who else has touched you? Is he the one who has taken away my curse?" Muraki yanked Hisoka's jaw up. "Is that why you weep? Do you long for his caresses now?"
Hisoka wasn't listening.
"Marked or unmarked, you carry my essence within you. When I take possession of you again, your shinigami body shall awaken once more...and reveal my mark for all to see." Muraki dug his nails into the underside of Hisoka's jaw.
Dark shadows flitted from Hisoka's feet, sliding along his bare skin. They coalesced and circled Muraki's fingers, squeezing with surprising strength.
Stunned, Muraki let go. The shadows dispersed and merged back with the shadows at Hisoka's feet.
"Well, well." Muraki extended a hand towards Hisoka's throat, nails bared. The shadows flew up in anticipation, surrounding Hisoka's neck, shielding his chest. "How fascinating."
There was a sudden rustle overhead. Muraki looked up.
Tsuzuki was perched in the fork of the tree trunk. His black wings were gone. Blood was smeared over his bare chest like tribal war paint. He wore his black trenchcoat draped over his shoulders. Crouched further up the trunk was a sleek black panther with glowing green eyes.
Muraki stared, eyes wide. For the very first time, Tsuzuki's bearing was befitting of a god - a god of war. Torn between bloodthirst and physical lust, he released Hisoka. The moon was not yet full. Tsuzuki was not supposed to awaken in spirit yet...was he?
"Abandon the Light at your peril!" the panther growled in a deep voice. "Glory be to the Light!"
"Silence!" Muraki snapped. "Who gave you permission to feed from him? Tsuzuki-san is mine!"
"You abandoned him!" The panther leapt to the ground, tail lashing. "You abandoned the Light to embrace darkness!" It bent its head and nudged Muraki's hip, pushing him away from Hisoka. "You must not give in to temptation and stray from the path of the Light."
Tsuzuki jumped to the ground. "I've been generous with you. I've allowed you to do as you please. I've put my friendships, my very position in the Shoukanka on the line for you...and this is how you repay me?" He slung off his coat. In place of his black wings were hinged skeletal appendages covered with bloody ragged feathers.
Muraki yanked the panther by the scruff of the neck. "You fed from his flesh! Did you imbibe his essence?"
"Of course not! His body and blood is rich enough! I am not fixated on essence unlike others!" It glared at Muraki a moment longer, daring him to disagree.
Tsuzuki knelt before Hisoka. Much to his relief, the cuts inflicted by Muraki's nails had already healed. He inspected Hisoka's bare skin. The curse marks were completely gone. His spiritual sense detected nothing.
Muraki sighed as he pulled out his cigarette pack and lighter. "It will be near-impossible to conceal you from Duke Ashitarote's surveillance in this form," he told the panther.
The panther rubbed its neck against Muraki's leg. "I only did it because he asked it of me. He is not yet prepared to reveal himself."
Tsuzuki wrapped his trenchcoat around Hisoka's shoulders. "Hisoka, can you hear me? Are you all right?"
Hisoka didn't answer. He didn't have to. His dazed green eyes, glittering with tears, were damning enough.
Tsuzuki busied himself with tying the belt. This was all his fault. He had endangered Hisoka with his selfish and reckless behaviour. He wasn't fit to be Hisoka's partner any longer.
The time for hiding was over.
"I didn't expect much in return from you," Tsuzuki said to Muraki, "since I know what you're like." He dabbed away Hisoka's tears with the sleeve of his coat. "But I had hoped you'd have the decency to leave him out of this."
Muraki took a drag from his cigarette. "All I did was exchange pleasantries. I thought it would be impolite not to reacquaint myself with my puppet for old times' sake."
Tsuzuki shot him a withering glare. "If he's your puppet, then where are his strings?" He turned Hisoka around so Muraki could see. "How can he still be your puppet when he's free of his red strings?"
"So you knew." Muraki's gaze narrowed. "You knew all along. Was it your idea to mask my curse?"
"Your curse hasn't been masked, Muraki. Your curse is gone. Only those who crave energy can sustain a curse on their victim. As you gained energy from me, so your curse eventually disappears. When you unsealed my essence, you gave up your role as a puppet master for good." Tsuzuki carried Hisoka up in his arms, then halted.
Wispy dark shadows rose from the ground to envelop Hisoka. Like pre-dawn mist clinging to mountains, the shadows clung to his clothing and nestled in the folds, covering him in a sheer film of darkness.
A kagetsu spell.
"I suppose that's true," Muraki agreed mildly. "I do not require his spiritual energy any longer." But his gaze was sly and knowing through the haze of cigarette smoke. "But what is this? Perhaps he has swapped one set of strings for another, ne?"
"This isn't a curse! It's a..." A tendril of shadow lingered over Hisoka's cheek, distracting Tsuzuki in mid-sentence.
Muraki sauntered forward for a closer look. "Why, it's positively caressing him." He let out a wry chuckle. "So is this a kagetsu love charm? A shadow seduction spell, perhaps?"
"Shut up!" Tsuzuki whirled around, placing Hisoka out of Muraki's reach. "Tatsumi would never do such a thing!"
"Why not? The boy is cute and attractive, ne? Especially when he is helpless and vulnerable as he is now. I know you've been tempted by his beauty, as I was long ago - and I'm sure your secretary isn't blind to his youthful charms either."
"I said shut up!" Jealousy reared its ugly head, robbing Tsuzuki of rational thought. Those evening lessons to teach Hisoka kagetsu magic were an ideal pretext for an after-hours affair. Once Hisoka's mind was lulled by the cloaking shadows, Tatsumi would have the freedom to do whatever he liked...and Hisoka would be powerless to resist. Instead of stroking Hisoka with evanescent shadows, Tatsumi could caress him with his bare hands...
"As God of Wood, you have the capacity to wield the same control over shadows too." Muraki's voice was low and conspiratorial. "Just as Wind is the active Yang corollary of Metal, so Shadow is the Yang corollary of Wood. When you awaken on the full moon, you'll be able to do everything the secretary can - plus much, much more. You can take your place as kagetsu master - the fitting title for one who wields Wood energy, the energy of life."
"So you say."
"Indeed I do. I've been trying to tell you for the past five nights." Muraki walked around to face him. "Accept your destiny, and everything could be yours in less than three days' time." He gestured at Hisoka with his cigarette. "You could dispel the secretary's spell with a mere wave of your hand...or manipulate the shadows yourself to make him yours."
Tsuzuki studied the restless shadows as they flickered and trembled over the dazed Hisoka. Kagetsu power his? It defied belief. But neither was he immune to temptation, and the idea of making Hisoka his was a long-held fantasy.
"He's so cute in his sleep, isn't he? Innocent and untouched - like a bud before it blooms. And I suppose on some level he still is, you know. His sensual nature remains locked inside him - just waiting for you to awaken it with your gentle touch."
Once his prickly defences were breached, Hisoka wouldn't fight or resist. Hisoka would accept him being on top...especially once the shadows kept him bound and helpless.
Tsuzuki clamped down on the traitorous idea. He wouldn't do that to Hisoka. He refused to use Hisoka to slake his lust...and he couldn't believe Tatsumi would've done such a thing either. "What about you? Don't you mind?"
"Not at all." Muraki took another drag from his cigarette. "You long to take charge during our couplings, ne? I'm simply suggesting a convenient outlet for you when you're in the mood to be on top."
"A convenient outlet," Tsuzuki repeated flatly.
"Take it from me, Tsuzuki-san." Muraki began to saunter off. "With his shorter stature and slighter build, the boy would be ideal for the task. As the one who broke him in, I can vouch for-"
"What if he's not the one I want? What then?"
Muraki didn't turn around. "Then feel free to choose from this world and the next once the moon is full." He seized the indignant panther by the scruff of its neck. "You will have all the worlds in your grasp by then."
"Do not abandon the Light! The Light must be worshipped and glorified!"
"I've done my fair share of worshipping." Muraki dragged the big cat behind him. "There are times even a god requires solitude from his worshippers."
The panther hissed and growled its displeasure.
Tsuzuki watched him go, then looked down at the shadows nestled around Hisoka. This wasn't a love charm. It was a small protective spell to guard the bearer from harm - the kagetsu equivalent of an activated barrier fuda.
Hisoka would never have agreed to such a spell - his fierce pride would never have allowed it. Tatsumi must have cast it in secret when Hisoka was otherwise occupied in practising his kagetsu mind techniques. He would've had to keep it discreet and inconspicuous to avoid attracting Hisoka's attention.
Yet despite its shadowy origins, the motivation for Tatsumi's spell was crystal clear.
You don't trust me, do you, Tatsumi? You don't trust me to keep Hisoka safe during an assignment.
He laid Hisoka down among the leaves and grass, then reached inside his black trenchcoat for an illusion fuda.
Hisoka's lips parted slightly. Soft and pale pink, and all too tempting to kiss.
Maybe you're right.
Tsuzuki picked up Hisoka's hand. He watched the charmed shadows nestling in the fold of Hisoka's clothing, quivering restlessly. Carefully he turned the hand over to expose the inner wrist, brought it to his lips in a chaste kiss, and suddenly nipped the flesh hard.
The shadows flew up to push him back, but they were too late. A small bleeding cut was formed.
Tsuzuki felt the sweet intoxicating taste explode in his mouth and go straight to his head, making him giddy. Quickly he spat it out, then pressed the paper charm against the cut. When enough blood had been absorbed by the fuda, he held it between the index and middle finger of one hand and began reciting the spell.
Hisoka huddled himself into a ball on the ground. He was naked, alone. A harsh spotlight shone down on him from above, blinding him. The sound of his own voice echoed out of the surrounding darkness:
Useless. You're useless, useless.
He looked down at his bent knees. Glowing red lines marked his skin, winding its way over the contours of his flesh. Slowly he extended his arms. The same red lines curled over his hands, around his wrists, along the length of both arms, down his torso.
A deep sardonic voice echoed around him, overlaid with his own: I engraved this curse on your body so it would penetrate your flesh to your very bones. Even if you're reduced to a single cell, my curse shall remain.
Hisoka blocked his ears to no avail.
Do you consider yourself useless, boy? Then allow me to give you a purpose. You shall be my little puppet...and these lovely red lines shall be your strings, ne?
"No, I'm not! I'm not your puppet!"
But you are, from your emerald green eyes to every inch of your ivory skin. I've owned many fine dolls, but none dance at my command like you. So come to me, little puppet.
"I won't! I'm not going anywhere!"
But you must be lonely there on your own: neglected, unloved. I know exactly how you feel. Come here. Let me hold you once more. In my arms, you'll rediscover your true purpose-
Hisoka could feel his cheeks flush with shame. His skin tingled and burned. "Shut up! Shut up and leave me alone!"
-as my dear little puppet.
Hisoka scrunched his eyes shut. He refused to cry. Crying would be the ultimate humiliation. But Muraki knew just how to zero in on his greatest weakness: the fragile self-esteem he went to such pains to hide beneath his guise of prickly aloofness.
Maybe it was true. Maybe that was all he was good for. His mother had rejected him, afraid of his uncanny empathic insight. His father had ignored him, leaving it to other clan members to train him in the samurai arts. He had never felt wanted by anyone as a child.
Do not mourn, boy. I know how you feel, for your wretched life is an echo of mine. I won't reject you. I won't turn you away. I still have a use for you. So come here. Come to me. Come...
At least Muraki wanted him. At least Muraki had a use for him.
A new voice spoke out of the darkness. It was low, strained - as if the speaker was holding back strong emotion: Please...
Hisoka's head jerked up.
Please take care of him for me, Kurosaki-kun.
Hisoka swallowed hard. "Tatsumi-san?"
I couldn't bear to be with him. It broke me completely. I was too weak. But not you, Kurosaki-kun. Not you.
Hisoka rubbed his eyes and sat up, his curse marks and nudity forgotten. Behind the warmth of Tatsumi's voice, there was something else - a terrible sadness. He squinted against the light. "Tatsumi-san, is that you?"
I ran away from him - far, far away. After me, he's had countless partners desert him - until now. You are his partner now. So please take care of him.
"I...I've tried, Tatsumi-san. I've tried, but I'm nothing but a nuisance to him."
Please stay by his side. Please do your best to support him.
"But my best isn't good enough! Look, I do my best to make sure he doesn't get hurt, while he does his best to make sure I don't get hurt...which means we just tiptoe around each other and get nowhere!"
Please do your best, Kurosaki-kun. Your kind heart and empathic abilities enable you to understand him better than the rest of us.
"What use was that when he summoned Touda? He became so depressed he wanted to destroy himself and there was nothing I could do to stop him! I couldn't change his mind..."
Flickering red lights lit up the darkness. They multiplied around him, growing stronger and brighter. Dark smoke billowed around him. The acrid smell of charcoal assailed his nostrils - and with it, the memory of that horrific laboratory fire.
Hisoka closed his eyes, remembering. "I never told anyone this...but he wasn't sad or upset in that inferno as he waited to die. Although he had tears running down his face, he had a blissful smile on his face - a real smile, not the fake smile he normally wears. Honestly, I'd never seen him so...so happy."
A warm coat was draped around his shoulders. "You care for him very much, don't you, Kurosaki-kun?"
The voice no longer echoed around him - it was right in front of him.
Hisoka opened his eyes. The flames were gone. Tatsumi knelt before him in the circle of light. He was dressed as usual minus his jacket: neatly pressed brown vest and suit trousers, crisp white shirt, striped blue tie perfectly straight. The metal rims of his glasses gleamed, obscuring his eyes. The wispy strands of brown hair falling over his forehead were the only softening feature in his brisk, business-like appearance.
Hisoka flushed and clutched the jacket around him. "I...I do, Tatsumi-san. Tsuzuki...he's the family I never had. He made me feel welcome and helped me find a home in the Shoukanka. He's done so much for me...but I couldn't do anything for him when it mattered the most. All I could do was join him in Touda's flames, because I couldn't imagine life as a Shinigami without him. I failed him...and I failed you too."
Tatsumi leaned forward, his piercing blue gaze intent. "Is he the main reason you've accepted a tenure as shinigami for so long?"
"Well..." Tatsumi's dignified manner always managed to fill him with awe. "Yes, I suppose so."
Tatsumi lowered his gaze. "I see." His expression remained serene, yet Hisoka had the feeling he was disappointed with the answer.
"It's...it's my job to look after him, like you said...and Tsuzuki can be a real idiot at times."
Tatsumi's gaze remained downcast, but a rueful smile hovered over his lips. "How true, Kurosaki-kun."
Hisoka couldn't help noticing what long eyelashes Tatsumi had. When Tatsumi caught him staring, Hisoka flushed and looked down. He saw that the curse marks were no longer visible on his arms and legs.
"I have a new favour to ask of you, Kurosaki-kun. There is something else I'd like you to look after for me."
Tatsumi held out his hands. Between them was a miniature rosebush with a single white rosebud.
Hisoka peered down at it. "It's...beautiful." He was too entranced with it to notice the tender look Tatsumi gave him.
"It is, isn't it?"
Hisoka cupped the rosebud with his hands. It radiated a faint glow. "Where did you get it?"
"When it first came to us many years ago, it was suffering from a severe case of blight: its foliage was spotted, its buds dying before it could bloom. With a great deal of care and attention, it's gradually started to grow and thrive once more."
"Really? But it's still so small and fragile."
"Only on the outside, Kurosaki-kun." Tatsumi's warm gaze never left Hisoka's down-bent head. "The few spotted leaves left will be shed in time. Will you take good care of it for me?"
"All right, I'll do my best." Hisoka frowned when he noticed it wasn't a pot plant - it was planted firmly in the ground. "So I can't take it with me?"
"No, but you can take time out each day to tend to it, can't you?"
"Oh...of course, Tatsumi-san." Hisoka was too embarrassed with himself to notice the gentleness in Tatsumi's voice. "But I'm not familiar with growing roses...and I'm not sure where we are."
Tatsumi slid his glasses up his nose. "When you figure out where this rose grows, you'll know how best to give it the care and attention it needs."
Hisoka blinked. For a fleeting moment, Tatsumi didn't look like Tatsumi at all. There was a sly glint in his eye that seemed out of character...and then Tatsumi was standing up, brisk and business-like once more.
"Until we meet again, Kurosaki-kun." With those parting words, he melted into the darkness.
Thoroughly confused, Hisoka studied the rosebush once more. Why him? Why trust him again after his failure to care for Tsuzuki? Why not ask someone else in the Shoukanka?
A shrivelled spotted leaf on one of the branches caught his eye. He carefully pulled it off. The white rosebud glowed brighter and brighter, until his entire vision was filled with its radiant glow.
Hisoka squinted and held up his hand against the glare. Late afternoon sunlight peeked through his fingers. He was lying on the ground, fully dressed, surrounded by leaves and grass.
He quickly sat up, then put his hands to his head. He felt dizzy, disoriented. How did he get here? Next to him was a scrunched-up paper charm. A few metres away were Gushoshin Elder and Younger, both asleep on their feet.
Muraki's work.
Hisoka scrambled unsteadily to his feet. Muraki had been here. The last thing he remembered was talking to Muraki...
But Muraki was gone. All he could see was a massive fig tree before him, the biggest he had ever seen. It dwarfed all other trees in the park with its thick trunk and extensive leafy canopy.
How odd. No tree that big had stood there before.
As he approached, he saw Tsuzuki standing at the base of the gnarled trunk. His head was bowed, his shoulders hunched as he pressed his hands against the trunk. He looked as if he was using all his physical strength to push the tree down.
Hisoka ran towards him, almost stumbling over the thick tree roots protruding through the ground. "Tsuzuki!"
Tsuzuki whirled around. "Hisoka!" He dusted his hands. "You're awake at last! Did you have a nice nap?"
"I wasn't napping! I came here looking for you." He noticed the beads of sweat on Tsuzuki's brow. "What were you doing?"
"Nothing much." Tsuzuki smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "How do you feel?"
"Awful. I've got a splitting headache." Hisoka rubbed his forehead. "What happened? Where's Muraki?"
Tsuzuki frowned. "Your hair's a mess. Let me get those leaves out of your hair." He reached a hand out to Hisoka's head.
"Don't change the subject! I can look after my own hair!" Hisoka combed his hair roughly with his fingers. "Where have you been? What did Muraki do to you?"
Tsuzuki let his hand fall. "Don't worry about Muraki. I'll take care of him."
"It's not Muraki I'm worried about!"
"You don't have to worry about me either." Tsuzuki turned away, evading his gaze. "I don't want you to worry about me ever again."
"Then tell me what's going on!" A horrible suspicion dawned on Hisoka. "You haven't just been investigating him, have you? You've been seeing him in secret! You...you idiot! Haven't you learned your lesson? You're allowing him to manipulate you all over again!"
After an eternity, Tsuzuki finally looked at him. His gaze was sad. "Hisoka, you were wrong about me."
"About you being an idiot? I don't think so! You've been an idiot for as long as I've known you, always letting others push you around and never standing up for yourself-"
"I'm not human, Hisoka."
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
Tsuzuki unbuttoned his trenchcoat. He wore no shirt. Rivulets of blood dripping from each shoulder down his chest. "Look." He shrugged off the coat and turned around.
Each shoulder blade was covered with a carpet of bloody black quills.
Hisoka stared, horrified. "What...what is this?"
"A sign that I'm growing in Wood energy." Tsuzuki turned back to face him. "I had no idea I possessed power over Wood because this energy used to be dormant inside me. But now it's been awakened-"
"Wood energy? There's no such thing!"
"I thought so too, until Muraki explained it to me. You see, I-"
"And you believe him, despite all the things he's done, despite the way he drove you to the brink of insanity? How can you be so foolish? You're the biggest idiot I've ever met!"
"Hisoka, please listen to me. These feathers are a sign that I'm not human-"
"No, you listen! We've got to get back to Meifu and show this to Chief Konoe! They look like the start of demon wings - the wings you had when you were possessed by Saagatanus! Muraki must have found a way to reactivate that dog's curse!"
"It's not Saaga's curse," Tsuzuki explained. "Saaga is no more. I annihilated him once and for all."
"Annihilated him? When? How?"
"A few days ago. Muraki summoned him to the land of the living so he and I could do battle-"
"Then this is his doing! He set you up! Don't you get it? Saaga first took possession of you after he injured you in a fight! Muraki must've set up that fight so Saaga could take possession of you again! That's how you got these feathers! It's a sign that Saaga's taking over your body!"
"No, this is different. I don't feel as if I'm being possessed this time-"
"As if you can tell! You're the last person to notice!" Hisoka seized his hand and dragged him away from the tree and towards the dozing Gushoshin. "You may not recall the havoc you wreaked the last time you were possessed, but I do! We've got to get you back to the Shoukanka right now!"
Tsuzuki grimaced. Further explanations would be useless - Hisoka wouldn't let him get a word in edgeways. Much like Tatsumi before him, Hisoka only saw him as a fool in need of protection.
"If I am possessed, then you're endangering yourself by being near me."
"And it wouldn't be the first time," Hisoka retorted.
Tsuzuki stiffened. He deserved that and more for the pain and suffering he'd put Hisoka through. He looked down at Hisoka's hand firmly gripping his own, and came to a firm decision.
He wouldn't endanger Hisoka or any of his Shoukanka colleagues any longer.
Tsuzuki came to a sudden halt and yanked Hisoka towards him. Taken by surprise, Hisoka slammed into Tsuzuki's bare chest.
"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka shoved him away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Tsuzuki seized him by the wrists. "What do you think?" He curled his mouth in a lascivious leer as he pulled Hisoka close. "Do you remember the lovely evening I hacked your delectable body in two?"
Hisoka froze. "Tsuzuki...?"
"You want that fool back? Surely not." Tsuzuki leaned over him, a devilish glint in his eye. "He's too much of a coward to go after what he wants - unlike me."
Hisoka struggled against him. "Let me go!"
Tsuzuki nuzzled his cheek. Shadows flew from the folds of Hisoka's clothes to cover his face, pressing him back. "You think he hasn't wanted to do this to you too? You're so young, so pliant - who could resist your lovely flesh?" He pushed against the shadows and licked the whorls of Hisoka's ear. "You were excited by the idea of being alone with me, weren't you? Your feigned embarrassment didn't fool me one bit."
"Get away from me!" Hisoka hit at his chest. "You make me sick!"
Tsuzuki kissed him - a hard, brutal kiss that demanded submission. The charmed shadows dispersed, confused by the mix of violence and passion. Hisoka went limp for a stunned second before he wrenched his mouth away. His lower lip was bleeding. His wide green eyes were stricken with horror and disbelief.
Tsuzuki eased his grip on Hisoka's wrists, equally stunned. He'd gone too far.
Hisoka seized advantage of the reprieve. He punched Tsuzuki smack on the jaw.
Tsuzuki staggered backwards and fell flat on the ground. His face throbbed in agony, and blood filled his mouth. For a teenage boy, Hisoka packed a vicious right hook.
"You may have escaped before but I'm going to seal you properly this time, Saagatanus!" Standing over him, Hisoka closed his eyes and placed his hands together, index fingers joined.
Tsuzuki struggled onto his hands and knees. In front of him, he caught sight of a twisted tree root emerging between patches of grass. Dimly he heard Hisoka recite the opening verses of the binding spell, and it filled him with bittersweet pride.
I trained you well, Hisoka. I trained you well.
He gripped the root as tight as he could, and focused his mind in a silent prayer of his own.
Forgive me. The energy I channelled into you...please return it back!
Wood energy coursed up his arm into his shoulder blades, through his body. His upper back was tingling, burning.
Twin bony appendages erupted from each shoulder blade, splattering blood everywhere.
Hisoka opened his eyes. He blinked, but he didn't pause in his prayer for a second.
The appendages arced high into the air, over Tsuzuki's head. Black feathers sprouted from joint to wingtip, row after row extending to form glossy black wings.
Tsuzuki came to his feet, his wings extended up behind him. He could feel the atmospheric pressure around him changing in intensity. A whirlwind formed around him, accompanied by a wall of crackling static electricity. His eyes met Hisoka's through the binding spell's barrier.
"Tell Chief Konoe I refuse to deliver the summons. If DaiOh-sama wants these souls so badly, he can come and collect them himself. This dog has broken free of the leash." Tsuzuki fanned his wings wide, then swept them across in front of him.
Hisoka kept chanting. With each verse, seal upon seal was being laid down over the spiritual binds. Slowly but surely, the spell was working its magic.
The black wings disintegrated into a flurry of black feathers. They were swept into the whirlwind of the binding spell, obscuring Tsuzuki from view.
When Hisoka finished the spell, the black feathers fluttered to the ground. Tsuzuki was gone.
The huge fig tree overhead was dead. Barren of all leaves, it was now a hulking black stump, its outstretched branches forming jagged cracks against the pink-orange glow of sunset.
Muraki sat alone in the waiting room of the intensive care unit, arms folded. The panther had been banished to the penthouse apartment as punishment. He had cast a spiritual barrier around the premises to keep the animal in place.
It felt good to have his magical powers back. He had missed the thrill of casting his own spells. Tsuzuki's essence was indeed the tonic he had needed, and their sexual encounters the ideal method for feeding...until now.
He didn't want a Tsuzuki who remained ignorant of his true nature. But neither did he want a Tsuzuki who insisted on asserting his dominance in bed. As a major shikigami, it was Tsuzuki's prerogative to establish his rule over others. But as the one who awakened him, Muraki sought another fate for himself: a vastly different fate.
Offering the boy as plaything was the best compromise. Tsuzuki obviously found him suitable too - why else spend over an hour with him?
His scheme was going according to plan. Jealousy would be irrational under the circumstances.
Through the one-way observation window, he watched the girl in the isolation room. Keiko's condition remained serious with no improvement. The thread tying her to the material world was tenuous. Despite the return of his own spiritual powers, there was nothing he could do to pull her back to consciousness.
All he could do was delay her soul from its journey to the afterworld. Kill her before she died from natural causes, then imprison her fleeing soul with a powerful barrier spell. It was the same method he had used before in his quest to increase his own spiritual energy.
He felt for the scalpel in his breast pocket. If he could not convince Tsuzuki to save her, then he would be a thorn in Meifu's side once more. Murdering her himself was better than allowing Enma to harvest her soul as he pleased.
A breeze blew through the small room. A little whirlwind of black feathers descended from the ceiling.
Muraki held out his hands to catch them. "Tsuzuki-san..."
Tsuzuki materialised before him. He was shirtless and hunched over, arms clutched around his bloodied shoulders, outstretched black wings cramped by the low ceiling. Slowly he lifted his head. His face was marked with cuts and bruises.
"I told Hisoka the truth. He thinks I'm a demon. He tried to seal me with a binding spell." Tsuzuki's lips were curled in a pained smile. "He didn't do too bad, huh?"
"What happened?" Muraki eyed the black wings suspiciously. "Did you actually allow the boy to-"
"No! I absorbed Wood energy from the fig tree." Tsuzuki wiped his cheek - the abrasions were already healing. "I think I took too much. Once I started, I couldn't stop."
"This is at it should be." Taking hold of Tsuzuki's hand, Muraki brought it to his lips and licked away the trace of blood. "You hold the power of life and death in your hands, ne?"
Tsuzuki pulled his hand away. Behind him, the black wings folded awkwardly against his back. "I used an illusion fuda to enter Hisoka's mind. I heard the words you used to torment him."
"Really?" Muraki lifted a brow. "And while you were there, did you take the opportunity to enter anything else?"
Tsuzuki looked him straight in the eye. "What do you think?"
Muraki studied his features for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head. "I should've taken advantage of the boy while I had the chance. The opportunity was clearly wasted on you."
Tsuzuki grabbed his shoulder. "If you go anywhere near him, we're through. You got that? I'm not sharing you with anyone."
"Why, Tsuzuki-san, you actually sound jealous! How refreshing indeed." Muraki shook him off. "Does it anger you to see me devote my attentions to another?"
"You know it does." Tsuzuki flushed at the admission, but refused to be ashamed. "Why didn't you tell me your cat familiar was once a shikigami?"
"You never asked. You wouldn't have believed me anyway." Muraki walked over to the observation window.
"So are all demons former shikigami?"
"Indeed they are. Demons are the fallen shikigami who rebelled against Enma's decree and rejected the virtual eden of Gensoukai. Once upon a time, shikigami and humans shared the material world together, until resources grew scarce. Humanity, being confined to physical form, were more vulnerable and soon became a threatened species. So Enma and his finest minds created Gensoukai as a temporary refuge for the shikigami. Once the material world had recovered, he promised the shikigami they would be allowed to return."
"Return here? To the land of the living?"
"Yes. However, not everyone believed him. Some shikigami refused to obey. A prolonged conflict ensued, until an armistice was reached many years later. In exchange for their freedom, the rebel shikigami would be partitioned from the rest. They would forfeit their elemental energy to become the demons we know today - preying on the rich spiritual energy of humans to sustain themselves. The Fire they wield is no longer their own. It is energy they have taken from the souls of humans and other living creatures."
"But why refuse the chance to live in Gensoukai with their powers intact? I've seen it myself, and it's a beautiful place-"
"Is it? As beautiful as your gilded prison in Meifu?"
"But couldn't they see the danger they posed to this world and humanity?"
"Why should humans have precedence over shikigami, apart from serving as Enma's exclusive energy source?" Muraki indicated the row of beds in the unit, each occupied by an ill patient. "Like these ones right here, for example. Each of them would make a tasty morsel for Enma, ne? But Keiko is the youngest, a babe compared to the others. Her youthful untried spirit would be the sweetest to taste. I can see why he'd issue a summons for her first."
"You mean this?" Tsuzuki took out a sheet of paper from the pocket of his trousers. He held it up so Muraki could read the three names on it.
Muraki's gaze narrowed. "You didn't tell me the summons was not for her alone. What will you do with it?"
"It doesn't matter what I do, because Hisoka has a duplicate copy." Tsuzuki crushed it in his fist and focused his mind. He opened his hand to reveal powdered grey ash. "The energy that consumes others within itself, yet can regenerate and bring eternal life. Is this what you meant?" He let the ash fall to the floor.
"Indeed." Muraki looked at the ash, then at him. Surprise mingled with a new respect was there in his gaze. "Your mastery of your power is growing."
"I could do the same to you right here - drain you of your energy until you're nothing more than dust and ashes. It's what you deserve for the things you did to Hisoka." Tsuzuki reached out his hand to touch Muraki's cheek. "You should be trembling in terror of me."
Muraki didn't flinch. "Is that what you want?"
Tsuzuki let his fingertips trace Muraki's unsmiling mouth, then slide under the angular jawbone down to the smooth pale flesh of his throat. "No. Youth may taste sweeter, but I think I prefer the rich flavour of a man in his prime."
A smouldering gleam sparked to life in Muraki's true eye. He seized Tsuzuki's hand and brought it to his lips. "When the full moon rises, everyone will be trembling in terror and awe of you."
"We may not have that long. Enma will send other shinigami to deliver the summons and arrest me for insubordination."
"Then we must do our best to accelerate your development. More frequent feeding sessions are in order, ne?"
Tsuzuki lowered his gaze. Hisoka and the other shinigami would thank him later for his dereliction of duty. He could no longer serve Enma and be a member of the Shoukanka. With his unsealed powers, he was potentially more dangerous than any demon now.
They were better off without him...and so was Muraki. But Muraki needed him and his essence too much.
Tsuzuki only hoped he could energise Muraki with enough power so Muraki could save himself when the time came.
Muraki lifted his jaw. "What is it? Why are you sad?"
"I...I'm not. There's just something I need to do." He took out a barrier fuda and transformed it into a crested white swallow. "Watch over her for me," he said.
The bird trilled in assent. It flew through the glass and perched at the foot of the girl's bed.
Tsuzuki turned to Muraki. "Well?" He held out his hand. "What are we waiting for?"
Muraki smiled took his hand. "Nothing at all."
They dematerialised as one in a whirlwind of black and white feathers.
Notes:
1. Hisoka's flashback sequence quotes dialogue from Demon's Trill (Theria translation) and Storybook arc (Senshigakuen translation).
2. Muraki's mention of Hisoka coming from a cursed family line is a reference from YnM Volume 12 (published in Japan early 2010). It's also found in Theria's Hanayume translations.
3. Thanks so much who have left feedback. If you notice any plot holes or inconsistencies with earlier chapters, please let me know. I try to maintain consistency as best I can, but I find it really hard at times because I am so slow.