[18 July 2013] Edited, because I notice people are still reading this old, old story, and I'm horrified at the grammar of my old self. -_- Also taken the opportunity to straighten out warnings in Author Notes.
Credits for character design goes to Matsushita Yoko.
This is an AU, so there will be OOC-ness, and timelines are way off. Tsuzuki is his suicidal self, back when he was treated in hospital by Muraki's grandfather (ref. Kyoto Arc), but I replace the doctor with Muraki himself.
Pairings are any two of Tsuzuki-Hisoka-Muraki. (Does it sound perverted, the way I say it? -_-0) Later chapters will have yaoi, the twisted kind with sadistic and demonic flavors, so, uh, yeah.
Italics are thoughts.
A Wing Short of Flying
We are each of us angels with only one wing. And we can only fly embracing each other.
- Luciano de Creschenzo
Prologue: The Room
The pair of eyes fluttered open.
He was so accustomed to that feeling, the turning back from death. He remembered the sensation of fading out, the seemingly endless drifting in nothingness. Then always, always, he was pulled back by invisible hands chaining his consciousness to the accursed body.
He remembered the sensations very well. He was so sick of them.
Waking up was just another interval in his long wait for death, a space for another suicide attempt.
Awareness dawned on him just enough to realize: the walls were not the usual hospital-white.
He turned his head slightly to take in his surroundings. Sunlight was framed in a small window, reflected on the metallic apparatus on the table beside his bed. In the far corner, a boy looked up from his reading, noticing his movement.
The boy hastily crossed the room to attend to his bedside. He came to a halt a few steps away, and was openly staring at him.
Oh, of course. These violet eyes.
He closed his eyes briefly, and the boy started out of his reverie.
"Where… am I?" He asked in hoarse, long unused voice.
"My master's… research lab," the voice that answered him was nervous and hesitant.
"… Lab," he repeated. The boy nodded.
A scientist. So the doctors have given up…or have they?
"How…?" he asked again. "… Hospital…"
The boy looked oddly frightened. He fidgeted, and didn't answer. As the violet eyes kept their gaze on his face, he finally spoke.
"Master will explain to you when he comes back," he said.
A scientist. It must be fascinating for them to study, this body that just won't die.
He turned his gaze back to the ceiling.
"Uh… do you want something to eat? I'm ordered to take care of you while Master is out."
He shook his head. The lack of food didn't kill him anyway.
The boy opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind. He returned to his corner and picked up his book, but didn't read it. His eyes were on him all the time, fear obvious in them. For some reason he knew it was not the fear of him. Rather, the lad feared something would happen to this precious experiment object, and his master would be mad at him.
It was something new. But he ignored it all the same.
The sun had turned red when there was a click on the door, and a man in a white lab coat entered.
The boy stood up instantly. "Master," he said. "The patient..."
The man stopped his report with a signal of his hand, and turned to the bed.
"It's been eight days now, the longest in the record so far," he addressed the man on the bed. "I see you've finally woken up, Tsuzuki-san."
He was not surprised that the scientist knew his name. Certainly they had all of his medical records.
At his silence, the man continued.
"Muraki Kazutaka," he introduced himself. "I've been monitoring your condition since you were admitted to the hospital under Amano-sensei's care, two years ago. The hospital has finally approved my request to keep you here. If you would cooperate, Tsuzuki-san, I'd like to conduct a research on that extraordinary body of yours."
Nothing of that surprised him either. He remained silent, turning over to the window.
The scientist-doctor huffed, apparently giving up trying to get a response. "Boy," he called to his assistant.
"Yes, Master." A quick, trained response.
"Keep watch on Tsuzuki-san. Don't leave this room. You understand?"
He heard the man leaving the room, the boy returning to his corner. He heard them, but the sounds bore no imprint in his mind.
Kyoto Arc said Tsuzuki didn't sleep at all during his eight years in the hospital… but I kinda need him to sleep in this story, so I conveniently ignore that detail. Heh.