Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Anti Nostalgic ❯ Part 2, Chapter 4 (Tsuzuki) ( Chapter 12 )

Title: Anti-Nostalgic (Tsuzuki, Chapter 4)

Author: Elf Asato

Pairings: Tsuzuki/Hisoka, Watari/Hisoka, Tatsumi/Tsuzuki

Warnings: Language, the "M" word, and probably OOC ^_~

Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei belongs to the great Matsushita-sensei and if I butcher her name, it's out of love. Anti-Nostalgic is a song from Gravitation so that doesn't belong to me, either.

Notes: Writer's block schmiter's block, just torch the damn thing ^^

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Anti-Nostalgic

By Elf Asato

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I'm a big believer of fate. Fate made me who I am, dumped me at the feet of everyone I care about…and those I don't. She brought me to Hisoka, she brought me to you, she brought me here…

She also brought him.

"Bon?"

Watari.

We met him at the poolside the one day we actually decided to go. Like I said, it was fate. It had to have been her. He must have left that cute, plump owl back at the office because it was just him - tanner than any of us, he must have been going to the pool for days - standing there in what was probably belief.

Or maybe that was just my reflection in the water.

Hisoka didn't look too happy and I tried to rake my brain for why. I know he normally doesn't look happy anyway, but I've been around him long enough to sense that sort of stuff. Watari was our friend, even if he had been acting a bit battier than usual as of late. …As far as I remembered, those two had always gotten along well…

What happened?

"Watari!" I exclaimed as I rushed over to our friend, and for a brief second he looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Hey, what are you doing here? Y-you're not on vacation are you? Did you actually ask for days off? Are you staying at this hotel?" I wouldn't blame him if he turned tail and fled at my bombardment of questions.

He blinked a couple of times before erupting into that characteristic, wide smile of his. It was contagious to all but Hisoka, who had acquired some sort of immunity to this disease. As we found a more secluded part of the pool area to sit and talk in, Watari told us everything: he had asked for a few days and amazingly Kachou granted it to him, leaving you and the cute 003 in charge of his area in his absence, but he was clueless that we were staying in the same hotel.

See what I mean by fate?

I was thrilled; how couldn't I be? Watari was there with us! I actually had a drinking buddy now who didn't pass out after a glass of alcohol.

When fate lays her cards like that, you've got to take full advantage of it. With Watari there, we were going to paint the town and a genuine smile on Hisoka's face, hopefully. They'll be friends like nothing was ever wrong, and they'll have a good time.

They will if I have to force them to!

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If you look up into the sky, it's guaranteed that you'll notice how beautiful the sky is, especially at night. Watari's a big stargazer, along with a few of my Shikis, so between everyone I've learned a thing or two about the stars and space.

One: Space is beautiful.

Two: Hisoka is beautiful.

So therefore it makes perfect sense that Hisoka be beautiful when he's spacing out, as he was on our sightseeing trip.

Although he's beautiful then (he's beautiful any time), I tried to get him to snap out of it, to talk to us. Watari was quieter than usual and I felt it was my duty to keep the conversation going. Even just one word from Hisoka would help immensely.

He just told me he was sorry and fell silent again.

And so the conversation died.

We should have held a funeral for it, we really should have.

…Then I saw it again, that same antique store from before: the one that I found our Hisoka flower in, the one that had continued to captivate me. If only you could see the things inside. They're beautiful. They remind me of Hisoka.

I love them.

It was fate again, throwing in her pennies, that prompted me to go in alone. Watari and Hisoka waited on a park bench on the opposite side of the street waiting for me; I felt better knowing that they could at least sit down.

I didn't know what it was about that job that kept me coming. It was like I was in a whole other world again, a world of my own. There were things I recognized and thought I'd never see again, and things that were entirely new to me; whatever the object was, it fascinated me.

I wonder…if I had been born an empath like Hisoka instead of the monster that I am, would I see images of my memories on the walls?

Picking up a figurine of a ballerina in faded pink, I wondered how many people had touched her, how many people had loved her, how many lives had she changed? Something about her made me smile. Perhaps it was the way she stood so pointed on her feet, painting the picture of a song in her motionless dance. Or maybe it was how that faded tiara continued to shine after all the years since her production. It was faded and almost gone, but the glitter was still there, even if you couldn't see it with your eyes.

She made me happy just looking at her.

The second I picked her up, though…I felt something wrong. Her eyes were a curious and unnatural shade of blue - one that's only possible today through those new colored contact lenses. Was that why she was sitting on a shelf in a store rather than on a mantel or dresser of a family who loved her?

Was she just like me?

I set her down on the shelf again, feeling that happiness fade completely. Should I have bought her? Should I have given her a home?

Should I loved her rather than feel a glowing hatred?

"If these objects could talk, what do you think they would say…Tsuzuki-san?"

A definite chill shot up throughout my body, freezing from the tips of my toes to the top of my head; it was so cold. I was scared as anything, but I really tried to hide it; I couldn't expose something like that…to that voice.

"…T-they would ask you what the hell you're doing here…and why the hell you're still alive," I croaked, wincing at my falter and the lack of confidence or aggression in my voice.

"How defensive you are. Why, I'm only alive through the wonder of medicine and technology, although your black snake certainly did a number on the lab and myself. But…contrary to what you may be thinking, I'm not in town to torment you or anyone. I'm only here visiting a dear friend. Nothing more." Everything that I despised dripped from his tone: the tone of a rapist, a murderer, a molester, a liar.

I tried to steel myself as I cautiously turned to face him, but no matter how many times I may do it, I will never fully be able to face that man calmly or without emotion.

After all, there's just something about Muraki that sparks something deep within you.

He stood there before me and even had the audacity to smile.

How I hated that smile.

"Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Muraki," I tried to growl, to sound ferocious…so intimidating that he would be blasted to tiny bits just from fear… But unfortunately he neither blew up into bits nor fled. That bastard continued his calm smile tinged with his ever-present amusement that…positively infuriated me.

The world's a fucking joke, isn't it now?

"Whether you choose to believe it or not, that's what I'm here doing," he replied simply, taking his creepy eyes off me and onto the ballerina figurine. A long, cold finger reached out to stroke her pale body, almost distantly. "If you must know, though, I did not browse in here just to find you. In fact, you had escaped my notice until I saw you just now."

It was ridiculous, but my guard slackened a little at his words. The logical side of me protested violently, but the curious side - the one that killed the cat - asked, "Well then what did you come into this store for?"

His eyes never left the figurine. "…A friend of mine is feeling under the weather…so I've only dropped in to buy her a present…and I think she would enjoy this little ballerina girl. Since we were children she had always told me she wanted to be one, but unfortunately she was never able to make her dream come true. …This figurine would be a nice present for her, don't you think?" Muraki never waited for an answer - the thoughts of others were irrelevant to him and I even harbored little doubt that he probably crushed that poor girl's dreams - and instead picked the ballerina up and studied her more closely in his pale hands. It felt as if my blood ran cold as he mused, "Oh…this girl is much like you, isn't she Tsuzuki-san? That shade of blue is unnatural for any human and it's a wonder that its brilliance has survived a century. Don't you think it's rather extraordinary? …Perhaps that's why she's here, all alone in a lonely store, instead of in the warmth and comfort of a loving family…"

I stiffened considerably, but remained silent. He was toying with me - I knew he was… I would not allow him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to me. I would not…

He continued on, without any help from me, "They say that the eyes are the window to the soul. That certainly seems true, doesn't it Tsuzuki-san? I mean…take that boy for example. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green I had ever seen…and he certainly has a beautiful soul, doesn't he? To feel the emotions of others. Someone like that surely must be pure in soul…but there's much we could say about his body, now isn't there?"

I couldn't contain it.

"Don't you dare talk about Hisoka or his body," I seethed, inflamed as I tried to keep calm, "…ever."

Muraki only smiled. "Protective of the boy, aren't you? You've…seen his scars, haven't you now?"

"Yeah, I saw them. I saw them fully the night we made love, but they're faint and painless now. You don't have the control you used to have over him anymore," I spat idiotically, blind of exactly whom I was talking to.

Telling Muraki that I made love to Hisoka…

…Nice, Asato.

He took his eyes off the ballerina, gluing them onto me with an incredibly amused expression, and I flushed, unsure of whom I was angry with more, him or myself. "…You think the boy loves you, don't you? Making 'love' with you. You really think that, don't you? You honestly think…that after what I put him through…that he never thinks of me when you touch him? What I did to him…is not something he could ever forget, I'll have you know. Those scars…every day when he changes, when he bathes…he sees those scars and thinks of me, regardless of who he may be with at the time."

I desperately tried to argue with him, but he wouldn't allow it.

"He may be with you now, but not for long. Imagine what I did to him…now do you think you could honestly cope with sexuality after that? Imagine how much it torments him on the inside…mimicking with you the actions I did to him. He won't stay with you for long. He'll move on to others, unable to even face you after a while. And then from there he'll just keep moving, unable to be with anyone for long - like a vagrant he'll be. You think I don't know what happens? He doesn't love you. He can't love anyone anymore…" And after that he even had the audacity to smile and bid me a polite farewell as he took the figurine to the checkout counter.

…After all those…lies. They were lies. He was toying with me, trying to ruin my relationship with Hisoka…but I knewit wasn't true because I loved Hisoka and Hisoka loved me!

Right…?

The rest of the day I tried to put Muraki's words out of mind. It wasn't like he said. Why? Because Hisoka loved me. All those reassuring smiles…those soft eyes… Yes, he definitely loved and cared about me.

Take that, Muraki!

Love, love, love… That's what was between Hisoka and I.

As we walked Watari back to his hotel room, I remembered the dance… It was tomorrow night, after all. Would Hisoka still pull through…?

Of course - he loves me, after all.

…But then again…he ditch me for another partner…

A kiss from Hisoka dispelled all those evil doubts, though, and replaced with it a newly burning confidence. In the hall, I reminded him of the dance…which he seemed to have forgotten, but it was no matter.

"Do you still want to dance with me?"

"…Of course. I love you, don't I?"

You have no idea what that did to me. I was ecstatic. We had to practice just so everyone could see how beautiful he was dancing with me.

Also…because I'm fairly sure that Hisoka would be quite embarrassed if he fell flat on his face. He might never dance with me again…

Once we were back in the hotel room, I tried to find an appropriate station, but there's not really any that play ballroom-style music anymore. It's a shame. I had to settle for a light classical jazz station. Hisoka didn't seem to mind, though, so that was all right. I turned to him and smiled…

…And perhaps it's my imagination, but it looked as if he was absolutely melting in my gaze. It made me feel special that I could affect him like that. "Take my hand," I instructed, holding him close to me. He did so…and it was a perfect fit.

Perfect.

I felt his heart beating quickly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek to dispel any doubts.

Don't be nervous, my love… I will protect and defend you…

…Always.

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~End of Part 1, Chapter 4~

Sorry if this chapter isn't as good as it could be. I'm bulldozing through this as if writer's block never existed ^_~ But anyway, I don't know how to write Muraki, so please forgive me if his characterization is a bit off!

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