The Sun Will Rise

Author: Trans

Pairing: TsuzukixHisoka

Warning: This will be a lot of angst, conflicting love, shounen-ai. All the usual good stuff. This will also contain SPOILERS for the Gensoukai arc

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei

AN: Last chapter. Big sigh of relief… Info about the sequel will be after the prologue/teaser for the sequel.

Chapter 25

Hisoka knew it had worked. Tsuzuki’s power burned through him, making reality snap, like fine wires being plucked. Every lost memory was relived in excruciating detail, one after another. Years of abuse----and that night under the red moon----then finally death--release.

The overwhelming horror was only shadowed by pain. It seared through raw nerves, devouring Hisoka’s body and then his very soul, marking it with old scars resurfacing. He wanted to scream and beg for it to end, but he couldn’t control his body, rigid like a bow string and lanced through the middle with too much power.

He had thought…he had thought that nothing could have been worse than his false life. It was but a farce with the spell restraining him. Anything would have been better--he thought naively--only to be proven wrong. He had been so wrong.

Nothing could have hurt more. Memories hurt. He didn’t want to remember every detail of the life he had hated. He didn’t want it, only now, it was too late to turn back. Such a fool he was to think he could have been happy in any life.

They barreled down on him, a light like a blinding sun stopping time for one brief second. He regretted, but had no choice but to surrender, because denial didn’t change the truth.

He was hated. His parents hadn’t loved him, not even once. Those days of being loathed, of continual failure, of the basement…not once did he feel love. His family had despised him for merely existing. The pain and self-disgust had been trained into him day after day. His life had been a struggle, and now he could remember every second of those sixteen years of hell.

He could remember Muraki, that demon in white, and his vile touch...His excruciatingly long death, where he endured more pain than he’d ever experienced in all his years combined, throbbed under his skin with its memory. Not only had Muraki taken and destroyed his body, but he had marked his soul. Terror came with every memory, and Hisoka knew why he would wish it all away.

Then, when he thought his past would incinerate him, and he wouldn’t survive his first few breaths with the spell broken, the last two years as a shinigami began to return. Tsuzuki. It was a calming balm to those other gruesome memories. Somehow he managed to surface from all his tormented fears.

Tsuzuki, Tsuzuki, Tsuzuki…he repeated in his head, trying to retain the reason why he had to remember. Because Tsuzuki was his home, and he would do anything-- suffer through anything…

Tsuzuki.

That was right…Tsuzuki.

Hisoka clung onto those memories above all, and clawed his way back into consciousness.

He could hear himself gasping for air, his shoulder blades drawn sharp against stone. His neck was cold and clammy, a throb starting at its base and radiating out through the back of his skull. Crumpled, and half wondering if he hadn’t been ripped limb for limb, Hisoka deemed it useless to move. His world was still spinning in a brilliant whirl of sounds and smells. Dirt and dust were fresh in his nostrils, and his stomach turned sickeningly.

A groan issued from his lips, heard as more than the sound of the rushing sea currently residing in his head. From faraway he could vaguely hear what sounded like someone shouting down a well. The noise was barely detectable, distorted in sundered echoes, that bounced like needles. Wincing, Hisoka tried to draw his hands over his ears defensively.

His muscles didn’t respond well, twitching sluggishly, and his attempt only made the sound louder as his mind came into awareness.

“Bon?!”

He knew he recognized that voice…from somewhere. His breath stopped in his throat as he blinked his eyes open. The sudden light that assaulted his sight made him cringe, instantly regretting it. Trying again, he squinted at the sky above him.

The night was slipping away into brighter pinks and oranges--the sun had risen.

“Bon?!” A face was hovering over him then, blocking out the morning light, only a blur at first. “Bon? Are you alright?” Ah…only one person called him that. Hisoka tried to focus on the image of Watari watching him anxiously, but it was distorted with dark spots entering his vision. Why was Watari here again…?

“Tsuzuki!!” His hazy vision instantly became clear when he heard someone shout the name from across the ruins. It was Tatsumi. Tatsumi and Watari were here…

Some sagacity returning to him, Hisoka took in Watari’s lab attire, and hoped that that meant he’d made it back to his real life. The sun was rising into the sky…and they must have managed to break the spell. “Tsuzuki…” he gasped, his lungs feeling like they’d caved in on themselves. Rolling onto his side, straining against his protesting muscles, Hisoka shuffled, or more precisely dragged, himself towards where he saw Tatsumi squatting.

Pieces of gravel dug into his palms and knees as he crawled forward. Large boulders were piled across the cracked foundation, making the trip even more arduous. He wasn’t sure how much energy he had to draw on, or how long he could keep his eyesight from being consumed by darkness, but he was determined to get to Tsuzuki first. Even if he was on the verge of passing out, he had to be assured of one thing.

“Tsuzuki!” he hissed, drawing close enough to see that Tsuzuki was lying unconscious. Dust and stray pebbles littered his wrinkled suit, making his face appear slightly grimy in the morning light. He was so deathly pale…

Watari was following his struggled pace closely, saying something that he couldn’t quite translate in his disoriented state, but guessed it was something akin to a plea to stop moving around. Blood was dripping into his eyes, and the burn somewhere on is forehead convinced him that a piece of falling rubble must have hit him.

Tatsumi was kneeling besides Tsuzuki’s limp body, but his eyes were trained on Hisoka, who knew he looked pitiful at the moment. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the critical stare, or feel embarrassed about the panic that must have been painted clearly on his face. All that mattered was that he get to Tsuzuki before he passed out cold. Tsuzuki was more important than some semblance of pride. Right now he was frantic, and there was no hiding that.

“Tsuzuki! Damn it!” Fisting Tsuzuki’s suit, he pulled himself half on top of the brunette, so that their faces were level. It was getting difficult to move even his own weight, and he knew his energy was dwindling away by the second.

“Kurosaki--” Tatsumi’s hand touched his shoulder, but Hisoka threw it off with a growl.

Weakly, he tried to shake Tsuzuki’s shoulder, but it garnered no response. “Tsuzuki!” he cried again, his voice breaking slightly. He was scared. He was afraid that it could have all been an illusion, and Tsuzuki wouldn’t remember a thing about Kamakura or his family. He didn’t want to be alone with those memories! Even worse, Tsuzuki might have been hurt, something having gone terribly wrong and-- “WAKE UP!! D-damn, I don’t have a book to throw at you--Idiot!” His fingers clenched in Tsuzuki’s collar.

His eyes stung, and he was so ridiculously scared. Why wouldn’t he wake up?! Why was he so still? “Tsuzuki…” he moaned, pressing his burning face into Tsuzuki’s chest.

“…‘Soka…?” Tsuzuki’s body spasmed underneath him as he coughed, his name just discernable through the fit.

“Tsuzuki?” Hisoka opened his eyes and stared down at the violet ones blinking skyward. “Tsuzuki…” Hisoka swallowed, his mind spinning. He couldn’t get enough energy together to move from his half-splayed position, and hoped that his weight wasn’t making it difficult for Tsuzuki to breath. “It wasn’t only a dream was it…?” he nearly begged in a whisper. “You remember…?” Tsuzuki’s eyes couldn’t seem to focus on him, and they gave very little recognition to what he was saying. Tsuzuki’s hand lifted shakily and rested against his cheek. Hisoka didn’t move away. “Please, Tsuzuki, tell me you remember.”

“Wha…?”

Becoming more distressed by the second, Hisoka dropped his face so close that he could only see Tsuzuki’s eyes staring back at him. His voice was a low whisper, so that even Tatsumi or Watari wouldn’t know what he was saying. If he was the only one who could remember…If he would be forced to carry that burden alone… “The flowers…What were the flowers that grew on my sister’s grave?”

Tsuzuki didn’t answer, and Hisoka squeezed his eyes shut, his heart sinking deep into his stomach. Somehow it hurt more than having his returned memories. He needed Tsuzuki and…he couldn’t remember…anything? Hisoka wouldn’t cry--he wouldn’t. Hisoka refused to be upset…They were back, that was all that mattered, right? It was enough. Having Tsuzuki was enough.

He would just forget everything from that horrible dream…

“…Forget-me-nots…”

“W-what, what did you say?” Hisoka could barely support his head, Tsuzuki’s palm helping him to keep it up. Their noses were touching, voices faint gasps of air that fanned over each other’s cheeks.

“The flowers…were forget-me-nots…”

“O-oh.” Hisoka felt relief bloom in his chest, making his mouth shift into a small smile. It was so blessedly warm and he accepted it readily. “And the maid…You remember the maid’s name?”

“Maya.”

“Tsuzuki.” It hadn’t been some dream. Tsuzuki remembered too, and he hadn’t been alone. Tsuzuki had been there all along, by his side, as he’d promised. He could have cried he was so relieved. Or maybe he was, because Tsuzuki’s thumb was making a sweeping motion over his cheek, and those purple eyes were shimmering under him. “Tsuzuki…” He didn’t know why he was compelled to say his partner’s name over and over, as if by doing so everything would be ok. It just felt right.

“Hisoka…” Tsuzuki was pulling his hand down, Hisoka’s face falling with it. Their breath mingled precariously for a moment, moist and quick, and Hisoka’s racing thoughts froze. For a second he knew what was going to happen, and knew that the pause was for his sake--Tsuzuki was waiting for him. He stared into Tsuzuki’s meaningful gaze, and leaned into the hand sliding down to hold his chin. In a breath, his lips were pressed gently to Tsuzuki’s.

The thought that they were being watched didn’t enter into his mind. Hisoka was lost in the surreal sensation of the chaste mouth against his, skin smooth and warm. It was perhaps one of the most comforting feelings he’d ever experienced, and his muscles relaxed reflexively, making his body melt into the one below his. Tsuzuki was a solid weight beneath him, full of heat and life, his hand like an anchor. He was home. The kiss was so delightfully like home.

Unable to find any energy to respond, he sighed into the contact. Briefly, he wondered why he couldn’t sense any emotions from the person he was kissing, or from the two men standing besides them, but he let the thought go easily. He was just too tired to think any more. Tilting his head to the side, he let his face slide into the crook of Tsuzuki’s neck, his lips still tingling. He could no longer open his eyes, and his hearing was cutting out like a broken radio signal. Safely in Tsuzuki’s arms, he let himself go.

qpqpqpqpqp

He could hear the ticking of a clock first, insanely slow, and of the same deep ringing of a gong. It pounded in his head evenly spaced, and causing a throb each time. He felt exhausted and stiff, unable to even feel or move his own limbs. He couldn’t think clearly anyway, the noise so loud, that it drowned out all thought.

Hisoka wasn’t sure how long he tolerated the sound, not aware enough to keep track, but after a while he did notice the succession speeding up and raising an octave or two. By the time the tick tock had receded into a faint rhythm, Hisoka was becoming aware of his surroundings.

Hisoka had been in the infirmary enough times to know that that was where he was at. Even without seeing, he knew that the low-grade cotton sheets under his arms would be bleach white, and tucked tightly under the hospital bed mattress. He could feel the thin pillow supporting his neck, and a warm hand resting over his. The room smelled of antiseptic and the kind of burnt coffee that was frequently brewed in the office--only good for keeping you awake, not for taste.

So even before he could open his eyes, or even recall his reason for being there, he knew he was in the infirmary.

He heard the creak of one of the fold-out visitor chairs, and the hand over his shifted a little. It instantly came to his attention that he couldn’t feel anything more than the touch of those fingers. There weren’t any emotions behind them, or any residual traces he could pick up from the room. It was truly silent in his head, empty but for his own thoughts. It was strange and disconcerting, making it seem more imperative that he open his eyes.

However, just like the room, he didn’t need to see, to know who the hand belonged to. Only one person would stay at his bedside. He’d only ever known one person who’d shown any sort of caring towards him. Besides, the fingers were smooth, as they should be from a man who’s main weapon were slips of paper. There weren’t even calluses from their abundant paperwork (mostly because he never did lift his pen much).

He swallowed, trying to get his dry throat to create the words he wanted to say, but all that came was a choked sputtering sound. His eyes were even less responsive, and he wasn’t sure how to articulate that he was indeed awake. It wasn’t hopeless however, because Tsuzuki having apparently heard the noise he’d made, leaned forward over his bed. The chair creaked, and his hand tightened.

“Hisoka…? Can you hear me?” frustrated at his body’s utter lack of consideration for the situation, he tried to speak again. It resulted in a rather dry and painful cough. He could have really used some water, and Hisoka wondered just how long he’d gone without drinking. Sure a shikigami couldn’t die from lack of food or dehydration, but it didn’t keep them from getting hungry or thirsty. “Could you try squeezing my hand…?”

Irritated, Hisoka thought that it should have been obvious that if he didn’t have the energy to open his eyes or talk, then he wouldn’t be able to move his hand. Another minute of silence passed, and then he felt Tsuzuki’s fingers (presumably his free hand) brushing his bangs from his eyes. The touch was light and ticklish, and Hisoka’s muscled involuntarily twitched against the action. The result was favorable however, because it gave him back some of his baser facial functions, such as blinking.

If his throat was dry and unpleasant, it was nothing compared to the state of his eyes. Not only were they blurred and slightly filmy, but his eyelashes were gummed together in such a fashion that he wondered if that might not have been what had kept them from opening in the first place. On the list of quickly noticed discomforts, he recognized how dirty he felt instantly, and then followed the thought up with the revelation that he was in one of those flimsy hospital gowns that he despised.

After about thirty seconds of blinking profusely, his eyes cleared up, and he could make out Tsuzuki’s face, smiling down at him in relief. It would have been assuring if it weren’t for the fact that he wanted to shower for about three hours, and not come out until he was clean and had somehow forgotten everything about the last month--which hadn’t existed.

“Hisoka…are you there?” Tsuzuki asked worriedly. He realized that he hadn’t responded for over a minute.

He opened his mouth and tried once more to form some sort of reply from his vocal cords. Hisoka coughed harder this time, turning his head into his pillow, and clutching at his sheets. His throat felt raw, and he closed his eyes against the sting. He heard movement, and then a hand was sliding under his hair, and tipping his head up off the pillow. Opening his eyes again, and much more easily this time, he saw Tsuzuki offering a glass of water to his lips.

Hisoka didn’t like not being able to take the glass himself, but he knew that he would just end up making a fool of himself by dropping it or something, and really he was just too thirsty to put up much of a fight. Sulkily, he parted his lips and drank all the water in one long greedy swallow.

“Is that better?” Tsuzuki asked hopefully.

“Thanks,” Hisoka croaked. His throat seemed pacified for the time being, and his head was beginning to clear. “What happened? How long have I been out…?”

Tsuzuki pulled his chair closer to the side of the bed, and sat back down. Casually, he wrapped his hand back around Hisoka’s, not noticing how the teen’s eyes darted down to the conjoined appendages. “Almost ten days now. We…were really starting to worry if you’d ever wake up. Of course Watari said that everything was alright, but…”

Hisoka could see the weariness in Tsuzuki’s face now. He knew his partner had probably worried over him needlessly the whole time. Tsuzuki had a way of neglecting himself in the name of others, no matter how much it wasn’t his problem or fault. But Hisoka could only see those tired lines, not feel them like he usually did. There wasn’t one hint of Tsuzuki’s emotions. Tsuzuki’s hand was touching his but... “Why…can’t I sense anything?”

“Just a little backlash. It should be temporary.” Hisoka was startled by the sudden voice, just now entering through the open door. Watari walked in holding a clipboard and sporting a smile. “It’s good to see that you’re awake. I thought I was going to have to drug Tsuzuki’s cupcakes again just to detach him from your bedside.”

Hisoka ignored the attempt at humor, although it confirmed his suspicions about Tsuzuki’s health. “Backlash?”

“You overexerted your empathy. You burnt out all your reserves. Tsuzuki told me how you broke the spell, and it will a take while to recover from something like that.” Watari stood on the other side of his bed, checking his IV and the pulse at his wrist.

“How long…?” Hisoka tried to discreetly take his hand back from Tsuzuki’s, but it didn’t work. The grip was held firmly, and Hisoka refused the sideways glance needed to see Tsuzuki’s expression. Instead, he focused on Watari’s lab coat.

“A week or two at most. You’re lucky. You could have done some real damage forcing yourself like that, especially under the circumstances.”

The circumstances…The spell. Hisoka had idiotically gotten himself into the spell, wishing that Muraki never existed and that he hadn’t been born with his empathy, because then his parents would love him. He cringed internally at how horrifically stupid he’d been.

“I didn’t have much of a choice…,” he muttered defensively.

“Of course,” Watari readily agreed in his same cheerful tone. “If it weren’t for your empathy, I doubt you would have been able to break it at all. So we’ll take a little recklessness as a good thing, shall we?”

Did that make him lucky? He’d never liked his empathy, doing no more training on the ability than what was needed to get it under his control. But it had made the difference…It was the only reason they’d even been aware of the spell.

A spell which was supposed to take away his empathy…

“How was I still able to use my empathy? Under the spell I wasn’t supposed…to have it.” Hisoka wasn’t sure how much Tsuzuki had told Watari, but he knew that Tsuzuki had seen what had happened after the demon had been summoned--just what he’d wished for.

That other reality had been so believable…He would have never known a thing was wrong if it hadn’t been for his empathetic ability returning after he’d met Tsuzuki. But why was he able to defy the spell like that? It had been an accidental touch. He hadn’t even been trying…

Watari hoisted himself onto the foot of the bed, leaning back on his hands. “You should read up on your own gifts Bon,” Watari said animatedly. “It’s a really rare ability just like being a Kagetsukai. I mean there are ways to emulate it, but people are very rarely born with the real thing.” Watari made it sound like he was so special, but it wasn’t like his empathy was a blessing. On the contrary, he’d always hated being born a…freak. “Someone naturally born with say, an empathetic or telepathic ability usually has a strong amount of latent psychic power. It’s easier for them to pick up other abilities, whereas a normal person would have to work years to get to the most basic of levels.”

“So the spell didn’t work because his empathy was too strong…?” Tsuzuki asked when it seemed Watari was straying from the original question.

“Not quite,” the scientist responded. “The reason gifts like these are so rare, is because they are bonded to a soul. Only a certain number of souls contain these abilities, and they are reborn with them as they are reincarnated. Consequently, while magic can work on the person, it can only affect a soul to a certain extent without destroying it. Your soul is pure energy, conserved as it is moved from one form to another. It is like a record of all your experiences from all your lives combined. Information can be added, but it is near impossible to take away.” Watari continued, ignoring the silence of the other two. “Besides trying to suppress your empathy with the strong energy of the spell, there wasn’t much that could be have done to actually get rid of it.”

Hisoka recalled when he’d been locked in the basement, his mother crying shrilly that he wasn’t her child. She would accuse him of being a demon over and over, an imposter that had killed her baby, and he could remember the feelings of hatred and fear that would smother him each night. Would it have been any different if they had known? Would they have accepted him if they’d known that he was born that way, and not a demon? Would they…have been as kind as they were under that spell…?

“Hisoka?” Tsuzuki asked concerned. He watched his own fists clench in the bed sheets, and tried not to let his thoughts show.

“What about the souls?” he asked, thinking of all the names on that list. “Were they…destroyed?”

Watari let out a sigh and Hisoka could feel a guilty tremble across Tsuzuki’s palm. If he’d had his empathy he was sure he’d be drowning in his partner’s guilt and despair. “There weren’t any traces of them left. It was only you two when we arrived. If the demon consumed them, then there isn’t anything we can do.”

A weighty feeling settled into Hisoka’s limbs as he thought of the bright glow that had been in that basin. It had been their job to save those people. All those names, and not one had survived. They had failed--no, he had failed. It was their first big case since Kyoto, and it was his mistake that had cost them those souls. He hadn’t been strong enough to prevent the summons, or to protect them. It had been his stupid thoughts that had made a mess of things in the end, and now all those people were gone.

Trying to keep himself from getting lost in his own darkening thoughts, he asked quietly, “What about the girl? Did she at least survive?”

Tsuzuki and Watari exchanged looks. “Like I said Bon, it was only you two when Tatsumi and I got there. Whoever committed the summoning ritual was long gone.” There was a pause, where Watari seemed to debate on whether or not to continue. “Since the souls are no longer considered ‘missing,’ there isn’t a case to pursue. It has been ordered closed.”

“What?” Hisoka finally looked directly at Tsuzuki’s face. It didn’t show any surprise, so he figured that he must have already been told beforehand.

“That is the way it works. Since the souls no longer exist…then there no longer is a case,” Tsuzuki said slowly in a pained manner.

“But what about the Demon? Or the girl?”

“We don’t know who the girl is, but she is still alive, and is meant to be for a long while. Her ‘contract’ with the demon is complete, so there is no reason for us to get involved. It doesn’t fall under a shinigami’s jurisdiction,” Watari said.

“The demon then?” Hisoka asked impatiently.

“Wananokami,” Watari informed him. “From what I could dig up, he’s been around for a while. Since the first great war in fact. He is probably a deserter of Ashitarote’s army. Of course, it has never been made official just who is no longer under his graces. That means that Wananokami is protected by treaty between Meifu and Makai.”

“There is a treaty?”

“Yeah,” Tsuzuki said. “But it doesn’t do a lot to protect humans.”

“If it did, do you think we would have so many cases involving demons?” Watari waved his hand. “It was the only way to end the war between the four realms. It left a lot to be desired, but overall it leaves things less bloody.”

“But Wananokami ate those souls. How can that not be a problem?” Hisoka couldn’t understand why the case was over just like that.

“Not that it isn’t a problem…It is just that it was part of the contract the girl made when she cast the spell to summon him. Since all the terms of this inherent contract were met, there weren’t any laws that were broken.”

“But…”

“When Saagatanasu tried to kill Hijiri for example, that was a breech in contract. If you’ll recall, the real case was to retrieve the cursed violin. The only reason we were allowed to get involved with Hijiri is because Saagatanasu was trying to kill him. If it hadn’t been for that, we probably would have hit a road block just like now.” Watari gave him a sympathetic look. “It happens sometimes.”

It happens? No big deal? So after everything that had happened, all those people gone, that life that he would forever be haunted with…he was supposed to just let it go? Since when had innocent people become pawns that could be written off under some neglectful laws? Hisoka couldn’t just say it was ok. It wasn’t. He had been…toyed with and now--now he couldn’t even get justice.

“So that’s it?” he asked emotionlessly.

“I’m afraid so.” Watari observed his cold silence for minute before hopping off the bed. “Why don’t I leave you two kids alone. There are a few things in the lab that shouldn’t be left unattended for too long…”

It was an excuse, and a poorly executed one, not that Hisoka cared.

Tsuzuki’s hand tightened on his to the point that it was starting to hurt a little, but Hisoka again refused to look at him. He was ashamed of everything that had happened--that Tsuzuki had been there to witness it all. Now he just wished he could forget everything, but it seemed an impossible task. The last place he wanted to be at the moment was alone in a room with Tsuzuki.

“I’m sorry.” Tsuzuki broke the silence when it became apparent that he was being ignored.

“What are you sorry for?” Hisoka asked with only a hint of bitterness.

“If I had been quicker…attacked the demon before he’d consumed the souls…” Tsuzuki continued with a dejected note, “I should have done something, but instead you had to go through all that…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It was so like Tsuzuki to blame himself. As if the whole world’s problems were because of his existence…Hisoka couldn’t understand how one person could take on so much guilt.

“But I was there, and I allowed the spell to happen. You could have been hurt, or worse…I--” His hand was shaking.

“It was my fault Tsuzuki. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Hisoka closed his eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault! I knew that I was the only one who could stop the summons…but I hesitated and I let you--”

“It was me. I should have been able to take care of myself at the very least. I was too weak to do anything about the girl, and then that wish. Damn it! And now we can’t even do anything, and that girl is still out there, and so is that demon!”

“‘Soka…” Maybe it was a good thing that he couldn’t feel any emotions other than his own, because those were strong enough to make his eyes sting and his fists clench. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to handle the emotions Tsuzuki’s voice was promising. “You were tricked…The spell--”

“I WAS WEAK!” Hisoka couldn’t contain the boiling anger that was building under his skin. His eyes snapped open in a glare. “None of it should have happened! I was right there when the demon ate those souls and I did nothing! And it was because of me that we got stuck in that nightmare--”

“--It wasn’t--”

“Real!” Hisoka spat.

No, all he had were lies.

As distinct as they were, like the lives of two entirely different people, every detail and memory belonged to him. Neither faded as a dream would, becoming blurred and the emotions dulled. Both were sharp and much too real in his memory.

The last month--which in reality hadn’t happened--wasn’t properly discernable in his mind. He remembered everything in grave detail. Not just from the moment Tsuzuki had arrived at the Kurosaki estate…He could remember bedtimes stories his mother read to him, and birthdays he’d never celebrated.

His mother had never smiled that sweet one he’d been fooled with. No, only that cruel look, cheeks red, and eyes hard--that was real. That demon hadn’t granted all that he’d desired. No, this was hell that he’d been given. To see what he could have had, to actually remember such things…and now know the truth about it all.

Conflicted. Devotion like no other seemed like a joke now that he could remember his mothers real ‘love.’ He hated them. Yes, all he could ever feel in his heart was his loathing for his sorry excuse for parents, but now it was even more sickening with the knowledge of how much he had cared under the spell.

It was all a disgusting lie.

Even the wish couldn’t disguise what his parents really were, what his life was meant to be. He wasn’t meant to be happy. He wasn’t meant to be loved. It was all a joke at his expense, and now he couldn’t get those taunting memories to fade. He had lived that life, as much as he’d like to deny it, and the spell broken or not, he would be cursed with it much as he was with his real one.

His anger seemed at the bursting point, the injustice so strong and repulsive. As always he’d been given the worst of it. He was never given the smallest reprieve. One blow after another, and he was expected to hold it together--because he was supposed to be strong.

He wasn’t so sure half the time. What he wanted to be, and what he actually was, were two different things.

And he made mistakes, suffered, broke, just like the fragile doll Muraki always claimed him to be. He wasn’t above it all; he wasn’t even capable of forgetting. Half the time his past haunted him and tore him down. He wasn’t powerful, not like he wanted to be, and he couldn’t say what he felt half the time. He couldn’t protect what was important to him, or even respond like a normal person when he was confronted the most basic of social interactions. He was a mess.

He couldn’t fight like a proper shinigami could, and he always got himself into dangerous situations that Tsuzuki had to rescue him from. The spell had been his fault--his weakness.

None of that would have happened if hadn’t been for him and…now he was stuck here remembering.

“I let that demon get into my head--you shouldn’t have been there!”

Tsuzuki stiffened. “I’m sorry.”

“STOP saying you are sorry!” Hisoka shook his head, trying to think straight. “You didn’t do anything!” He couldn’t stop shouting, even though his throat was already raw, and his voice was cracking.

“Exactly! I should have been there for you!” When Hisoka made the misjudgment of looking at him, Tsuzuki’s eyes were shining with regret.

Hisoka choked, not liking the feelings that arose after seeing those eyes. “You can’t always protect me.”

“But you are my partner and I should have been able to do something. Instead I…I f-forgot.” Tsuzuki pressed his face into their joined hands, trembling slightly. “I can’t believe I forgot…Without you I don’t know what…”

“Tsuzuki, stop.” Hisoka didn’t want to hear the rest of that sentence. He didn’t deserve nor was he ready for what Tsuzuki wanted to say. “It wasn’t real, so none of that matters.”

Tsuzuki looked at him with wet eyes. “I know it shouldn’t be possible. Even Watari told me that demons don’t have the power to change time. Everything was only an illusion…but--” Another tear escaped from his lashes, sliding down the curve of his cheek. “It felt so real. I didn’t know any better.” Another tear. “You’re the only one who has ever stayed. Without you--under the spell--there was no one. I was alone.”

“Tsuzuki…,” Hisoka said thickly. His throat felt clogged, like a pillow was being pressed over his chest, and his eyes were beginning to blur against his own volition. He didn’t want to cry. He really didn’t want to, but it was so hard when he could see the pain in Tsuzuki’s face. His words made his heart race, and his sight undeniably watery.

“I’m sorry,” Tsuzuki said while sniffling against their hands. “I should be comforting you. I mean, it was worse for you wasn’t it? You had to see…your mom die, and I’m the one crying…”

Hisoka flinched, drawing Tsuzuki’s gaze again. It was remorseful and full of the sort of soft affection that Hisoka could never get used to. “At least we know it wasn’t real. I asked Watari to check. I made sure. You’re mother is still alive, so--”

“And that is supposed to be a good thing?” Hisoka’s voice wavered, and finally he couldn’t keep the moisture in his eyes from falling. Embarrassed to be seen so vulnerable, he yanked his hand away from Tsuzuki and used it to cover his eyes. He didn’t want to see Tsuzuki’s pitying look, or perhaps it would be one of shock because he wished his own mother dead.

“I know the wish was different from reality, but she is your mother…”

“She isn’t!” Hisoka’s shoulders shook, and the palm of his hand became wet where it pressed over his closed eyes. “That woman was never my mother. A mother wouldn’t--” He swallowed, unable to word all the memories that were clamoring in his head.

It was all so confusing. He hated her, he knew he did, but that same devoted love that he’d felt under the spell still tried to trick him. Emotions jumbled together, making the ache in his chest stronger.

Tsuzuki’s hand squeezed over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have assumed--I’m sorry.”

Why did Tsuzuki have to be so kind when his own parents had never showed him one once of love? Why were they never there to comfort him when he cried? How could this man apologize for everything, when he was the one person who was always there for him?

“Stop apologizing,” he told him once again.

“I can’t, not when I know you are still hurting.” Hisoka couldn’t contain his next sob, Tsuzuki’s sincerity, even without his emotions to back it up, much too strong for him. He’d never had someone talk to him like that…like his feelings mattered. That Tsuzuki would be crying over him…

“You can’t change it. I-I couldn’t change it. It’s all in the past. It has already happened…It’s only memories now.”

“Memories hurt the most.” There was something about the way Tsuzuki said those words, and Hisoka knew that he understood him perfectly. Some might give empty comfort, but Hisoka knew that if anyone could, then Tsuzuki would understand the suffering of one’s past.

Tsuzuki moved over him protectively, draping his arm across Hisoka’s chest and hooking it over his shoulder. A teary face pressed into where his hospital gown met his clavicle, breath stammering. “I wish I could have saved you from all of it.”

Hisoka cried harder, in earnest this time, just like after the Queen Camella had sunk or when he was pulling Tsuzuki back from the brink of death. Part of him felt cornered and he wanted so badly to be able to just throw away his feelings. He didn’t want to be conflicted or upset. He wanted to forget.

Only…he had, and look what that had cost him.

Hisoka pulled his hand from his eyes and placed it over Tsuzuki’s back, instead turning his face into Tsuzuki’s hair, trying to return the gesture. He had almost lost Tsuzuki in that wish. That was why he was here. That was why he chose to remember. The pain of the past would always be there, but the only person who had ever made it worth it was Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki who was clinging to him and crying. Tsuzuki who would sacrifice anything for him in return. Tsuzuki who was the most powerful person he had ever met and yet the most vulnerable at heart. Tsuzuki who he…

Tsuzuki sobbed harder as his embrace was accepted, and whispered, “I love you.”

Hisoka held on tighter.

Antumbra

Prologue/Teaser

Tsuzuki resisted the urge to flip through the report in his right hand. That would be snooping. That would make him nosy. So no matter how much his hand itched to just open it, he knew it would have to be firmly ignored. It wasn’t like the contents could be all that different from the one he’d written (in his left hand), but he was curious none the less.

It took a day after breaking the spell before he’d woken up, and fully aware, asked for Hisoka. His body had ached and his brain had been foggy, but he had still dazedly tried to sit up. Watari had smiled in a placating manner while pushing him gently to lay back down, and opened the curtain that acted as a divider so he could see Hisoka, still sleeping soundly in his own bed.

Hisoka had slept for nine more days after that. Tsuzuki refused to leave his side, and no one dared to persuade him from the notion. He knew it was his own shortcomings that had resulted in Hisoka getting hurt so badly. He guiltily sat at his bedside for days, refusing to do anything else. Tatsumi eventually brought paperwork, ‘as a distraction,’ but they remained in the same stacks they had arrived in. He didn’t want to write his final report. To Tsuzuki, the case wouldn’t be over until Hisoka woke up, and he was safe. Watari would join him sometimes, asking the questions Tsuzuki was willing to answer. And so slowly but surely, he painted a picture of what had occurred.

That was all Tsuzuki could really do. He wasn’t sure what would be saying too much, and betray Hisoka’s confidences. Everything had been so…personal. Tsuzuki understood that he had been allowed to see things that Hisoka hadn’t, and most likely never would, share with anyone.

So Tsuzuki put off writing his report. What he told Watari was enough to hold any pestering at bay, and Hisoka was more than enough of an excuse not to write a single word.

The day that Hisoka finally woke up, it became even more clear how significant the events that had transpired were. Hisoka had been exposed and he was scared and hurt and…angry. And…Tsuzuki just wasn’t adequate enough. How could he be enough to take away any of that?

How could he ever be worth what Hisoka had sacrificed for him?

That question had been plaguing him since his partner had been released from the hospital ward and he still couldn’t come up with an answer.

Somehow he had ended up with his empty report before him, and he finally had no way to back out of writing down something. There were no more excuses, and yet he still had no clue how much he should divulge, and what he should discretely leave out.

Everything that led up to the spell being cast came out relatively easy. It wasn’t too hard to write about following the soul to the clearing, or finding the girl who was casting the summoning spell. The part afterwards, when Hisoka had charged ahead when he himself had hesitated, that was more difficult. He faltered when he described how the souls had been consumed and the spell cast, but he managed to get it out all the same.

Tsuzuki briefly went over the case he and Watari had been given for Rui, and had no problems until he got to the part where they arrived at the Kurosaki estate. He floundered when describing what he had first felt when he Hisoka under the spell. The report would after all be public record and…again it seemed too personal.

He settled on, ‘instinctively drawn towards.’

He left out a lot after that, only centering on the facts he had gleamed from his meetings with Nagare and Hisoka. He didn’t say a word about the boy who brought his mother flowers, or devoted his time tending to her.

Weaving in his and Hisoka’s progressive dreams was difficult. They had all been emotional, and he didn’t want to admit private things like the fact that he loved Hisoka above all else, or that even in his dreams he would watch Hisoka so possessively… He left as much as he could get away with vague, and instead gave details on the state of Rui and Nagare.

He wrote the tale of the Kurosaki curse word for word, all the while wondering if any of it was founded in fact, or if the Demon had created it to add to the illusion of the spell. He couldn’t begin to think about any of it being real. He didn’t want to imagine what Hisoka could have been subjected to if it were true.

Tsuzuki depicted the ghastly story, start to finish, hoping that he was telling enough without hurting Hisoka in any way. He knew that he eluded to some things without really touching on them, but knew that Tatsumi would understand.

The only problem was that if his report deviated too much from what Hisoka had written, then it might cause problems. Had he said too much? Too little?

Tsuzuki’s fingers clenched around the manila folder in agitation. He only had one last chance to take a look before it was all final. Hisoka had left him in charge of bringing the reports to Tatsumi’s office, but if he took a detour to grab a donut…then perhaps he could take a peek…

Shaking himself, Tsuzuki tucked both resolutely under one arm, and marched up to Tatsumi’s office door. It took only one knock before he was called inside.

Tatsumi’s office was the epitome of order and efficiency. The windows were always clean (using daylight was better than wasting electricity), paperwork was filed neatly by chronological order in drawers (for easy access), and his desk only held the bare essentials (reduced clutter was more conducive to work). It was the exact opposite of how Tsuzuki kept his work space, but it represented the secretary’s personality perfectly.

When Tsuzuki entered the office, Tatsumi was already waiting expectantly in his ergonomically friendly chair. “Thank you for knocking. It’s a nice change from your usual barging.”

Tsuzuki wondered if Tatsumi had known he was coming. There wasn’t any papers out in front of him, and his pen was set to the side. He smiled anyway and held up his occupied hand. “I was just bringing in our finished case reports.”

“I see that.” Tatsumi gave him an appraising look before he continued, “could you please have a seat, Tsuzuki-san? I have something I would like to discuss with you.” Tatsumi motioned towards the empty chair on the opposite side of his desk.

Tsuzuki swallowed. It wasn’t possible that he’d done something wrong already. It hadn’t even been a week since they’d left the infirmary. He’d spent so much time worrying over Hisoka, that he hadn’t restocked his supply of sweets, or had any run-ins with Terazuma that resulted in property damage. Still, Tsuzuki sat down nervously, and squeaked, “I didn’t do it!”

“Is there something you would like to tell me?” Tatsumi asked with raised eyebrows.

“Uh…no…?”

Tatsumi gave him the softest quirk of the lips. “You aren’t in trouble Tsuzuki-san.”

“Oh.” Tsuzuki sighed and relaxed into his chair. “Ok then.” He smiled sheepishly. Tatsumi extended his hand and Tsuzuki gave him the two folders. A wave of both relief and anxiety washed over him. His last chance to read Hisoka’s report and revise his own was now gone, but at least it was finally over. The case was now officially done with.

Tatsumi was silent for a minute as he flipped through the files, an unreadable expression on his face. “These seem to be in order.” Satisfied, he set them down and looked at Tsuzuki gently. “How have you been handling things?”

Tsuzuki hoped that his feelings weren’t obvious. He didn’t like worrying anyone, most especially those he cared about. “I’m doing fine. I’m just glad the case is over,” he said noncommittally.

“From what I understand, you two went through quite the ordeal.”

“It was…” Tsuzuki didn’t know how he could explain the confusion and emotional turmoil that the spell had caused. “…Complicated.”

“It was a difficult case.” Tatsumi’s gaze became more sincere. “I regret how things turned out. Such a hard case so soon after--”

Tsuzuki held up his hand. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. We are shinigami. It’s our job…” He didn’t want to hear Tatsumi apologize like he did after Kyoto. The man liked to protect him, he knew, but it was another thing to let him feel guilty for something he had no control over.

Tatsumi adjusted his glasses. “Shinigami are often faced with difficult cases,” he agreed. “But I’m glad to finally see you and Kurosaki-kun out of the infirmary.”

“No more glad than I am.” Tsuzuki’s smile turned passive.

“I’ve been assured by Watari-san that there are no lasting affects from the spell.”

Tsuzuki thought that that was a blatant lie. Although they were healed physically, it would be a long time before everything got back to being ‘alright.’ The memories of what had happened would haunt them, and the look that had taken to Hisoka’s eyes when he thought no one was watching… No, they would be affected for a long time, perhaps never forgetting completely.

“He wouldn’t let us leave until he was done poking and prodding us.”

Tatsumi folded his hands together and posed his next question in a delicate fashion. “How has Kurosaki-kun been since returning to work?”

Tsuzuki sank a little in his chair. He didn’t really know what to say. Distant? Distracted? Almost cold? Would he really want to voice how awkward things had become?

It wasn’t as if Hisoka was deliberately cruel or even as standoffish as he was when they’d first become partners, but it was like there was now a barrier between them. It was difficult to hold a conversation, not that Hisoka had talked much before, but the blond had recently taken to clipped tone. It was even harder for him to make eye-contact with his partner, no matter how much he tried to lighten the mood or resort to his usual antics. Everything felt stilted, like they were both trying too hard to act like nothing was wrong, and failing miserably.

Even after confessing his feelings…Even after Hisoka had cried in his arms…

Tsuzuki twisted his hands together. “I don’t know.” Tatsumi waited silently, apparently expecting Tsuzuki to continue. “It’s Hisoka. He’s not very good at talking about how he feels.”

“You know him better than anyone,” Tatsumi pushed. “How do you think he is doing?”

“I’m worried about him.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them. It was true. It was a near constant since the spell had been broken, his worry, only he hadn’t voiced it before now. “He hasn’t been the same since we got back.”

Tatsumi sighed, leaning back in his chair, where he removed his glasses to clean them. There was a length of silence before they were replaced, and Tatsumi finally spoke. “I was afraid that you would tell me something to that affect.” Opening one of the drawers on his desk, Tatsumi withdrew a folder. “This is a summons we received last night.”

Tsuzuki glanced at the folder apprehensively, before accepting it. Confused, and just a little nervous, he opened it. “But this is…” Tsuzuki swallowed, rereading the page in front of him. “I thought this was just part of the spell…Watari said that all of it had only been an illusion…”

“None the less, shinigami are required to go to Kamikura and investigate Kurosaki Rui.”

Tsuzuki froze, realization hitting him. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You can’t possibly mean that you want to send me and Hisoka on this case.”

Tatsumi frowned. “Ideally the case would go to the pair whose area it falls under, but they are currently involved in a case. In fact, you two seem to be the only shinigami that are available. I thought that your knowledge on Kurosaki Rui might be advantageous to the investigation.”

Tsuzuki glanced at the file in his hands, and then promptly shut it. Setting it firmly on the desk, he said, “find someone else.”

“I understand that you just completed a hard case, and if you want more time for recuperation, then a few days could be afforded.”

“No.” Tsuzuki gave him a straight look. “I don’t want Hisoka anywhere near this case.”

Tatsumi paused, and then in a softer manner asked, “considering that the investigation will be taking place on his family, would he not wish to be involved?”

Tsuzuki knew Hisoka. Regardless of what he felt, or any other emotions he had towards his family, Hisoka would think it was his responsibility to accept the case. Even if it would probably only traumatize him more, Hisoka would go to Kamakura out of obligation. Well, Tsuzuki wouldn’t let him. If no one else could see that it would be a terrible idea to send him there, then he would put a stop to it.

“Tatsumi, Hisoka’s family was horrible to him,” Tsuzuki said emphatically. “He has already been through enough, and that spell only made things worse. The last thing he needs is to go back there. I don’t care how, but find someone else.”

“Well…” Tatsumi took back the folder. “Watari-san was here in the office when the invoice was faxed. He shared very much the same views on the subject that you do, and he volunteered for the job. Still, he would need a partner. If you are willing to travel to Kamakura with him--”

“I’m not leaving Hisoka.”

“It would only be temporary.”

“It doesn’t matter. Hisoka needs me right now. I can’t leave him alone after everything he just went through. His empathy hasn’t even returned yet.” Tsuzuki was determined to get Tatsumi to see things his way.

“You’re concerned, but if you don’t want Hisoka to be on the case, then I’m not sure what you expect me to do--”

“You go!”

Silence. Then, “excuse me?”

Tsuzuki smiled, realizing that not only would this solve their problem, but Watari would be quite pleased with the arrangement as well. “You said that Watari would go, but that he needed a partner. You go. You have field experience.”

“That was decades ago!” Tatsumi seemed flustered. “I haven’t worked a case since we were partners!”

“It’s just like riding a bike! Besides, I’m sure you’ll do a much better job keeping Watari in budget than I did…,” Tsuzuki said, thinking about all the great food they had bought when they’d been sent on the case under the influence of the spell. Now that he thought about everything that had happened, he knew it was for the best that they stayed out of it. Tatsumi and Watari would be fresh, objective eyes. He already knew too much--had seen too much.

“You would be much more of an asset than myself. You know more about the family situation, and could help the case be solved much quicker if you were there.”

“And since I will be unavailable,” Tsuzuki said smoothly, “then you two can read what I wrote in my report, and use that to solve the case!”

“Tsuzuki--”

“I’m not going Tatsumi, and neither is Hisoka.” Tsuzuki couldn’t remember the last time that he’d been so firm with his ex-partner, but he knew that this was important.

A deep, disgruntled sigh. “Alright, I’ll take the case with Watari-san.”

“Thank you.”

Tatsumi studied him for a moment, and his gaze turned sympathetic. “You are a good partner. I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

“I hope so.” Tsuzuki lowered his eyes and prayed that Tatsumi was right.

Tatsumi gave a rueful smile. “That is all then. You are excused. I’m sure your partner is wondering what is taking you so long.”

Tsuzuki stood up and walked to the door. He stopped for a moment and looked over his shoulder. “Tatsumi…” The secretary looked up. “Whatever happens, please try to save her. Even if Hisoka claims not to care, I don’t want him to be hurt if anything happens to his family…”

“I’ll do what I can,” Tatsumi said, and Tsuzuki knew that he, like Hisoka, didn’t like to make promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.

Tsuzuki left Tatsumi’s office with a heavy heart. He knew that this turn of events would only exacerbate Hisoka’s troubles. There was even a chance that Hisoka would be angry if he found out that Tsuzuki had kept them off the case. He hoped that the conversation he’d just held wouldn’t ever come up.

Deep in thought, Tsuzuki wandered into the break room. Nearly all the donuts were gone. All the chocolate covered or cream-filled ones had been eaten, and there were no maple bars. The only ones left were two old fashioned donuts with no glaze. He took one from the plate, but then the last one looked lonely without its partner, so he took it as well. Biting from each in turn, he wondered how things would ever get better. He’d thought that Kyoto was the worst things could get, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Hisoka was being forced to cope with everything that had happened, and there was nothing Tsuzuki could do to help. If asked, the blond denied that anything was wrong at all.

Finishing his donuts, Tsuzuki returned to their shared office space. As usual, it was silent as he entered. Hisoka had long since finished any paperwork, backlogged or otherwise, and he was tidying up his desk.

Tsuzuki gave him a brief glance before sitting down in his own chair. It squeaked as he leaned back, old, and always threatening to finally give out. He still had some work he could be doing, but he was much to preoccupied worrying over Hisoka to focus on any of it.

Instead, he watched Hisoka as subtly as he could, which wasn’t discreet at all. Hisoka gave him a harassed look, huffing as if annoyed, before shoving his face in a book he’d begun reading in the infirmary.

That was how things usually went, but Tsuzuki didn’t mind. He hoped that silence was something that wouldn’t always be between them. He hoped that everything would slowly begin to repair itself.

But…

What if it hadn’t all be lies? Did the demon somehow know the fate of the Kurosaki’s? Was there more to what had happened then everyone believed? Tsuzuki wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to any of those questions.

He’d be there for Hisoka no matter what. If things got worse, he’d make sure that Hisoka had someone to turn to. He’d never let Hisoka forget that he was loved. Even if it took one hundred years, he would wait for the day that Hisoka was ready to accept him. He’d wait for, “I love you.”

“What are you smiling about?” Hisoka asked as he looked up from his book, a testy frown on his face.

“Nothing.” His smile broadened with hope. “Nothing at all.”

AN: So finally it is over… Actually, if it weren’t for school being so hectic this semester, I bet this would have finished up a lot sooner. Anyway, as all of you know by now, this is obviously NOT the end. I never intended for this story to be a stand alone, but in fact started it as the first of a trilogy. That means that I am indeed already working on a sequel.

Now that you have read the teaser/prologue for Antumbra (the name of the sequel), I hope that that entices you to want to read more.

Any questions that you still have and wondered why I didn’t answer them…take them as foreshadowing or something I’ll answer in the sequel. If you are really impatient, you can ask in a review, but I might just tell you to wait anyway.

Also, I will confess that the next story will include some more ‘adult’ subject matter, so the rating is being bumped up to mature. (There will be Tatari as well!)

That is all folks… I hope to ‘see’ you all again soon. There might be a delay before I post the first chapter of Antumbra, but keep an eye out.

Lastly, I would like to say thanks to all my reviewers, new and old, because you really encouraged me throughout this process, and helped me improve my writing immensely. Any future reviewers, thanks as well.

Love to:

Tinker-Bell-Greenleaf (My fabulous beta who really stuck it out with me)

QueenOfHearts3

Sailorlight22

barnacle-mermaid

laustic

YamiHaruko

Mimi

Dakotarox14

jennamarie

The Drowess Nione Ithiliel

Chubby-King-Chocobo

Eria

C

Smexy Kitten

DarkHeart16

Kenshin’s Soul

BigFatWitch

thirdgirl

AiNiDaiSuki

Twinfetish

offshore hope

Syrenka

EternalEnds

Xylia Luna Orion

Maya

Rae and Arakni