Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Anti Nostalgic ❯ Part 2, Chapter 6 (Tsuzuki) ( Chapter 14 )

Title: Anti-Nostalgic (Tsuzuki, Chapter 6)

Author: Elf Asato

Pairings: Tsuzuki/Hisoka, Watari/Hisoka

Warnings: …You don't need any warnings.  You should know what chapter this is!  (Yes, the warning is your lack of need for a warning)

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: …I didn't want to write this.  At.  All.  To delay the pain, I attempted extreme procrastination behavior.  It temporarily worked; I mean, you're reading this now, even if it is severely late, right?  And dammit, I'm not sorry!  This was hard and exhausting to write…  To illustrate and kind of build things, I've sort of pulled certain things about Tsuzuki's childhood out of my ass.  So yeah, it's not true, I don't think.  And Tsuzuki, at a certain point, isn't exactly rational, so if you complain that he starts to not make much sense logically, I will flay you alive for being stupid enough to not realize his emotional and mental stability at said point.  No really, this was so fucking draining to write…

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Anti-Nostalgic

By Elf Asato

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After helping Miki (and getting myself a…drink), I couldn't help but notice that my lovely Hisoka wasn't where I had left him.  I figured, though, that, with his empathy, he may have stepped out to escape the crowd.  That was fine, as long as the reason wasn't because he was unhappy with me.  Growing worried about him, though, I decided to look for him in the bathroom, to see if he was okay since he looked rather ill when we arrived.  I mean, I didn't want my darling to hit his head against the sink or anything…

So…as you can imagine, I was relatively…no, positively…definitely…painfully surprised when I found him…not in the bathroom, puking his guts out like I suddenly felt like doing at the time, but…

…Rather, he was kissing Watari.  My dear friend.

Numbed and nauseas, I stumbled back to our chairs, inadvertently bumping into a woman and spilling her drink into what looked like a new and expensive gown…but I didn't stop to apologize.  I didn't even care, and I didn't even stop to think until I had sat down.

Watari kissing

Hisoka.

My Hisoka.

I had spent nights in absolute ecstasy with him.

I loved him.

He loved me back…

…Right?

Right?

And…in response, I heard a voice not of my own.  I jumped, trembling, as I looked around, realizing after a second that it was simply a memory, though, and nothing more…

         &nb sp;  You think the boy loves you, don't you?

Nothing more than a memory of that bastard's evocative voice.  Words of a fucking liar.  Nothing more than just a memory.  There were no hidden meanings or suggestions behind those words.  They were just that: words, nothing more.  They didn't mean anything.

They didn't mean anything, and they weren't true.

They were just words.  Just a goddamn memory.

And nothing more.

I loved Hisoka, and Hisoka loved me.  We were happy together, blissful, content.  Nothing could stand between us - nothing.

Not Watari.

Not Muraki.

Not anyone.

Anyone.

I could have stormed out, told him that it was over and just left…  But I didn't.  I still had faith.  Hisoka still loved me, and what Muraki said wasn't true.  He's a liar - it was never true.  It couldn't be true.  It wasn't true.

…So I waited for him to come back, which was fairly soon.  I know him; I know everything about him, it feels.  He was nervous about something - I could tell from his body language - but I wasn't about to let him know that I had seen…I had known.

I didn't let him know because there was nothing to know.  Just a simple little thing that could easily be explained, and I trusted Hisoka because I loved him.

I loved Hisoka, and Hisoka loved me.

He loved me.

And that's all there was to know.

I danced with him, and when he trembled, it was because of his empathy.  He doesn't do well in large crowds, you know, and he certainly wasn't trembling because he was nervous or guilty because he had been kissing another or anything.  Hisoka just doesn't do well in large crowds, and that's why he trembled.

And I trembled not because I was scared or mad or anything because I put on a shield and held it all inside, but because he was so beautiful and when you're in the presence of someone that beautiful, you have to tremble because they're beautiful, and you're not, and you don't tremble because you love them, but they don't love you, of course they love you, but you tremble because you love them and they're so beautiful, and they would never do anything to hurt you.

Really.

I was okay, and Hisoka knew I was okay because I had told him I was okay.  Not verbally, no, but I put on a shield to tell him I was okay, because why wouldn't be okay?  I was okay, just fine.  Even better than that I was great.  Peachy keen.  Beautiful, wonderful, just like Hisoka, and I was okay.  I was completely and absolutely okay, even though beneath my shield I felt all awful and bubbly…

But I didn't feel awful and bubbly because I was okay.

What was there to be unhappy about?

And Hisoka, he's okay, too.  He never thinks of Muraki when he touches me - Muraki's just a liar - that's not why he's trembling; he's okay.  We're okay.

Hisoka doesn't think of Muraki when he touches me.

We are okay, and there's no reason to let him know otherwise.

…Really…

We danced for a little while longer - I desperately tried to cling to hope while putting a cork on my emotions - before he started to look a little pale and suggested that we call it a night.  Once we got back to the hotel room, he immediately began to change the water in the marigold's vase.

That marigold I had given him…it wasn't alive like a real flower, so he didn't have to give it water.  He didn't have to care for it, but he did.  If he didn't love me, he wouldn't have wasted any time on it.  He loves me, so he cares for the glass flower.

But if he had loved me, he wouldn't have kissed Watari, another side of me said.  That's called cheating - infidelity - and it doesn't exactly bode well for a relationship.

He was about to change out of his suit when I had the courage to ask evenly, "Naa…Hisoka?"  I couldn't let him know I was having doubts.  I had to know.

I loved him.  He knew that all too well.  He had to have known that, even if I never told him that I loved him.  I felt it so strongly in so much abundance…so with his empathy he had to know.

So what, was he just too afraid of breaking me to tell me no?

He sat down on the bed as I calmly made my way to his side, trying not to betray anything.  I would not feel anything.  I would not, for if I did, I would never know.

And I had to know.

I wrapped my arms around him, keeping an emotional distance in addition to shields in place, as I gave him a few seconds to think, to gather information like I knew he always did.  Kissing his cheek softly, I put our relationship to the test:

"I love you."

He turned to face me, and at that moment we both knew.

Hisoka didn't love me; he loved Watari, but never me.  It made sense.  The odd behavior between the two before our vacation, on that one assignment…the kiss.

No, it was never me, but Watari.

And at that moment if felt like my heart cracked in two.

I let go of him and paced around the room.  I had to think about the situation objectively, and I couldn't let this nasty, awful, oppressive, yet terribly appealing emotion surface.  I could not.

Because even if Hisoka never loved me, I still loved him.

         &nb sp;  You think the boy loves you, don't you?

Yeah, Muraki, I thought he loved me, but he never did, and you were right, fucking bastard.

He didn't love me.  Even if he wanted to, he never could.  How could he feel anything but unpleasantness when he touched me, the memories of Muraki, of being raped.  And I felt like I had been killing him all this time because I loved him so much.

I loved him, and because of that, I hurt him.

Staring at the wall, I stopped and murmured, "…You could have just told me that you didn't feel the same way."

He could have told me no.  He should have told me no.  Why the hell didn't he? 

And why did he stay when he obviously wanted Watari?  After all, Watari has so much more to offer him.  He's smart, intelligent, and he doesn't have these stupid, fucking, emotional hang-ups, or any reason at all to have the need to conceal a monster inside of him, growing incredibly angry.

Well?

Was it fun?

Was it fun owning my heart and soul entirely, Hisoka?  Was it fun fucking with me?  Was it fun breaking me in the worst, most awful way?

I'm not human, Hisoka, so you shouldn't go around fucking around with me.  I have a monster inside of me, and it gets terribly angry when I'm hurt.

So I ask you, was it fun?

"Tsuzuki, I didn't mean-!" he blurted as I voiced my question.

He has the audacity to look like he's hurt.  He has the audacity to act like he even cared about me.

He doesn't love me - he doesn't fucking care.

And at that moment as I spun around to face the liar before me - I thought I knew him, I really did - I could control it no longer.  He didn't mean anything by fooling me into believing that he loved me, really he didn't.  Just a harmless, innocent joke, just like the ones the kids used to play on Ruka and I.  You know, that harmless, innocent joke that killed her.

All because we weren't normal.

No…no, it wasn't the same.  Hisoka simply broke my heart.  It's not a big deal, really, when you consider the grand scheme of things?  What the hell does it matter that a one Tsuzuki Asato had his heart utterly and completely shattered by a fucking sixteen-year-old kid?  The guy's a pervert for fucking a kid that young, so what the hell does it matter if his heart is crushed?

It doesn't.

It doesn't.

"Of course you didn't," I responded, trying to regain control.  "Why should you?"

What, when you have Watari, why the hell should you care about me?  You didn't mean anything after all.  It's okay to screw with Tsuzuki's heart, really it is.  People have been doing it for a century, so why should you be any different, Hisoka?

"Tsuzuki."

Really, he's no different than those kids…

"No, no, no," I said with a wave of my hand, my calm and almost blithe tone inversely proportional to what I felt threatening to seize control inside of me.  "You couldn't have known if you were really in love or not anyway.  You're just sixteen.  What do you know about love anyway?"

And that's where I angered him.  "Tsuzuki, just because I'm stuck at the eternal age of sixteen means absolutely nothing when it comes to love!" he said, his voice almost raising, as he stood up.  "And besides, this isn't entirely my fault!  You're to blame as well-"

Oh what, I'm to blame for having my heart shattered?!  I'm to blame for putting up with his childish insolence and indecisiveness?  I'm to blame because he can't make up his mind?

"I'm to blame for loving you in the first place."

"You're to blame for forcing your emotions on me!" he raised his voice angrily.  "How can I tell my true emotions when yours keeps masking them?!"

And at that I froze.

Hisoka never loved me, but rather, it was his empathy reflecting off my own horrendously strong emotions.

…He only thought he loved me because I loved him.

It wasn't a cruel joke or indecisiveness on his part.

He thought he did, but he didn't.

And it was because of me.

         &nb sp;  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?

Because of me he had to relive his moments with Muraki, relive that bastard touching him in a mockery of what love should be.

That's…that's exactly what we did, Hisoka.

It's exactly the same.

"But…" he began in a soft, comforting voice that pained my ears just by hearing its sweetness.  I hated it.  I hated it in the worst way if only because I loved it so much.  "There were times when my emotions were my own.  When I genuinely loved you without your help."

…But there were times when he genuinely loved me…

He genuinely loved me.

It wasn't all me.  If he genuinely loved me…

…Then he genuinely must have loved Watari as well.

"…If you loved me…then why did you kiss him?" I asked sotto voce.  You told me you lovedme, really loved me.

You must not have loved me enough if you had to kiss him.

When he asked "What?" in a meek voice, honestly surprised because he thought I hadn't known…

You thought you could get away with telling me that you loved me and have that be it…

And it pissed me off so damn much.

"Don't act like you don't know," I scoffed, feeling my heart wrench and twist in all sorts of directions I never thought possible.  "I saw you and Watari kissing…"

Empathy my fucking ass.  You knew full well what you were doing the whole time, didn't you?  You're quite the convincing liar, Hisoka, coming from all the emotions you pick up, I'll bet.

But oh, "I suppose that was your empathy getting confused again?"

"Y-yes," he muttered, and I had to heavily restrain the urge to punch something.  "But Tsuzuki-!"

"But what?!"

What, you want to try and tell me that you love me again?  Sweeten me up so that I'll forget about the poison inside of you and myself?

         &nb sp;  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.

So that I'll forget that you never honestly couldlove me?

"…I really was falling for you…even before you told me how you felt."

He…didn't.

I honestly felt like throwing up, passing out, anything.

Anything but this please.

Please.

Don't do this Hisoka.

You're making the monster very angry.

I can't keep it in any longer, Hisoka, please.

I love you, Hisoka, please, stop it.

His green eyes were beautiful, so confused, angry, and hurt…I both loved them and hated them at the same time.  I can't look at him, I can't see him, I can't, I can't I can't I can't - "…Please don't toy with my heart anymore."

"I'm not toying!  I'm serious!"

Shut up.

Just shut up.

I can't listen to your voice anymore, Hisoka, I can't.  The sounds that fall from your beautiful pink lips - please, don't make me hate you, Hisoka, because I can't.  I can't.

On the verge of tears, insanity, anything and everything, I sank to my knees, unable to even hold myself up any longer.

Please…I don't want this.

"I don't care," my voice wavered, "…I…I don't want to love you anymore…please."

Please.

"…Tsuzuki."

Shut up.

            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.

Just shut up.

"I mean, what am I supposed to do?!" I yelled, clutching my head, unable to get the voice of that fucking murderer out of my head - Imagine how much it torments him on the inside…mimicking with you the actions I did to him - but I couldn't, I couldn't.  It wouldn't leave.  His words wouldn't leave.  Why wouldn't they leave?  I hated them.  I hated him.

I hated him for what he did to us, to you, to me, but oh god, Hisoka, for what he did to you.

"Since I unintentionally forced my emotions onto you…it's like…it's almost like an emotional rape?  Is…is that what it is?  Dammit, I don't even know what to do!  I don't think I've felt this horrible in my life!"

            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.

His voice…his fucking voice it won't stop, why won't it stop?  It won't stop.

            …mimicking with you the actions I did to him.

Please, leave me alone.

Please.

"Tsuzuki, it's not your fault-" his voice - it was heavenly, angelic, yet from the bowels of Hell and kept reverberating, combining with the smoothness of a liar, and it wouldn't stop - comforted gently.

         &nb sp;  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.

It's all my fault.  My fault. I'm killing him, oh gods I'm killing him.  Just because I love him.

I'm killing him because I love him.

"God, I should have seen that you didn't want to be with me!" I yelled, not caring - not caring about anything - no, I cared about Hisoka, but it hurt so…so much…it ached and burned like a knife twisting in my heart.  "…But no…dammit, am I reallythat selfish of a bastard to not even consider you?!"

I should have known, Hisoka, I really should have known.  You could never be with me, we could never be with each other, Hisoka.  Hisoka, Hisoka, I'm sorry.  Oh gods I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

         &nb sp;  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.

I am so sorry.

            He'll move on to others, unable to even face you after a while.

Please…please forgive me, Hisoka.

"Tsuzuki, don't!" Hisoka protested, reaching a hand out as if to touch me, but then he retracted it.  "…You're not - that's not - that's not the way it was!"

         &nb sp;  And then from there he'll just keep moving, unable to be with anyone for long.

Forgive me, Hisoka, I'm so sorry.

         &nb sp;  He doesn't love you. 

Please, please forgive me.

         &nb sp;  He can't love anyone anymore…

I didn't mean to kill you, honestly I didn't.

"I've hurt you without you even realizing it!  Of course this is how it was!" I exclaimed, the monster inside of me threatening to consume everything.  Slamming my fist down onto the small table next to me - I couldn't see, I couldn't see anything anymore - and onto the glass marigold, shattering it.

And the glass flew everywhere, like little speckles of water from a child splashing in the stream.  Or a girl flailing about, drowning because she can't swim.

I heard Hisoka's voice cry out my name, but it was so distant, so faint, that I barely noticed it.

I killed the marigold.

I killed Hisoka.

Hisoka wanted to help me, but I wouldn't let him as my hand, cut from the glass, had already begun to heal.

"…Leave me alone," I sighed, not being able to take it anymore.  I couldn't, I couldn't do it, I couldn't, I couldn't, I'm sorry I couldn't.

I can't live like this.

This monster…

…killed Hisoka.

I'm sorry, Hisoka, I'm sorry.

"Don't you see?"

The monster will eat me whole.

Please forgive me.

"I don't want anything to do with you now!"

I'm sorry, Hisoka.

I left the hotel room, slamming the door on my way out, blindly walking…running down the hall with no idea as to where the hell I was going.

Oh gods, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, Ruka, I'm sorry.

         &nb sp;  He doesn't love you.  He can't love anyone anymore…

         &nb sp;   

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~End of Part 2, Chapter 6~

So, you see what I had to do?  I had to convert what was perceived as an OOC Tsuzuki in Hisoka's bit and change it into an in character Tsuzuki by way of the mental instability.  I even wrote Muraki's dialogue back in chapter four based on what I wanted Tsuzuki to lose it over, so…you can see I've been planning this for a while.  Since Hisoka's chapter six when I had people tell me Tsuzuki was OOC.  The things I do for readers…

And dammit, it was hard!  Exhausting, too.  Honestly, in my entire life, never have I written anything so emotionally draining.  I almost cried when I was finished because I was so relieved.

It goes without question that you'll review, e-mail me, et cetera, telling me if Tsuzuki's still OOC, right?  (And if you think he is, you can just kindly stuff it… :D)

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