On a beautiful day in September, a blissfully golden-blue day touched with the smell of ripening, a day into which even a person like Muraki was unwilling to bring unpleasantness and on which a person like Tatsumi was willing to forgo work, Tsuzuki Asato reached a certain critical mass, and began a great and unprovoked disturbance. Following before the fact, shockwaves followed every thread that spun from him, tugging at the hearts at the other ends. A hundred hands trembled, and then those thin connections snapped, and the effect on them was over. In the Judgement Bureau gymnasium, Kurosaki Hisoka convulsed, then swung his bow over his shoulder and began to run. Hijiri's bow dropped from suddenly shaking fingers, and his violin reached the ground barely more gently. He stared at his hands, then suddenly knew what it meant, and ran. The invisible Count started upright in the Hall of Candles. A tall beaker full of threateningly green fluid slipped from Watari's grasp, but by the time it hit the floor he had pelted from the room. Muraki Kazutaka found himself unable to hold his butane lighter firmly enough to bring flame to cigarette, and hesitated, and then he, too, dropped his shaking hand and turned to follow the disturbance to its source.

Tatsumi Seiichiro had been there all along. "Tsuzuki," he said firmly, himself surprised at his continued calm. His shadow stood starkly still behind him, cowering from the intensity of terribly white light before him. "Tsuzuki, get hold of yourself."

Tsuzuki looked up from the growing crater behind Tatsumi's desk. His face was wild, but his purple eyes remained his own. "…hurts…" he told Tatsumi thinly. He flinched as his own expansion threw up another questing tongue of brightness. Tatsumi thought for a moment that Tsuzuki was developing a thin look, like a cellophane angel. A transparent angel, crouched like a beast.

"Tsuzuki!" He exclaimed, cursing himself for not being able to express his concern more clearly. Tsuzuki seemed solid again now, but for that moment…

"…hurts a lot…'sumi…" Tsuzuki's eyes crinkled at the edges, and he unwrapped one arm – his left – from self-containment to raise it as if in benediction. "Tatsumi…d'you think…aah!" The hand fell. Tsuzuki caught Tatsumi's eyes again. "Hisoka!" he commanded, and then everything escaped.

Believe it or not, this came about because the summary of someone else's fanfic got me thinking about bows, and I needed an excuse to bring up Hijiri's and Hisoka's in one paragraph. So that desire co-opted an old 'let's-play-with-the-idea-of-Tsuzui's-supposed-demon-blood' craze, and we were off.