Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Corrupt Fruit ❯ Nigauri ( Chapter 36 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Chapter Thirty-Six: Nigauri:
The storm began to slowly uncoil in Hisoka's brain. Kohaku had ravished the boy's soul and left it poisoned. He needed a release; someone had to pay for his heightened misery. First, he had to find the culprit to take it out on.
Hisoka made it back to the main room. Watari had just woken up and was on his computer. The boy watched him with his cold green eyes.
"Watari-san," he spoke up. The blonde scientist didn't turn around from the screen.
"Yes Bon?" he asked. Hisoka felt his own anger slowly burn. He could feel the heat in his hands as he drew them into tight fists at his sides.
"Where's Tsuzuki?" he asked as he drew in slow breaths.
"Hm?" Watari asked, glancing behind him. The boy could feel the blood running in his pale fists.
"I need to talk to him now," he replied in a slow rhythm.
"Oh, he and Kimoto-san left a couple of hours ago," Watari brushed off without really noticing the storm brewing behind him. The boy’s nostrils flared as his anger drowned in a sea of red.
"Where?" he hissed.
"They left a note somewhere, hang on," Watari looked around for it. The burning began to increase inch by inch. Tick. Tick. Tick.
"Ah, here it is!" Watari said. "Dear guys, went out for the weekend for extra work. Be back soon, Tsuzuki and Anna." Hisoka gritted his teeth. Lies, all lies; they were on a date this weekend, he just knew it. The burn went up another notch.
"Does it say where?" Hisoka asked in a gall-filled tone.
"No," Watari said. "But I'm assuming downtown Kyoto." The boy finally calmed himself down as he released his fists.
"Thank you," he forced himself to say. The young Shinigami walked out the door. Watari looked up this time.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I need to talk to Tsuzuki!" Hisoka shouted. The door slid shut and Watari sat, blinking.
"Okay…" he said.
Hisoka stopped in his tracks outside. The color drained from his complex. What am I doing? This wasn't like him. Sure, Hisoka didn't hate Anna, but Tsuzuki spent more time with her lately; a little bit too much in the boy's opinion. The thought of being shut out made his stomach turn. He felt like Tsuzuki treated him like an after-thought. Hisoka shook his head. Where was all of this coming from? Tsuzuki did care about him. It didn't feel that though; he seemed to care about Anna more.
No! He cares about us equally.
You sure about that?
Yeah…no… I don't know.
Hisoka dropped his head. This was the third trip. Sure, Tsuzuki and Anna were in love. What was the problem? He and Tsuzuki were still friends. However, that wasn't satisfying enough.
Anna got to enjoy Tsuzuki in ways he couldn't. His partner's eyes would never shine for him. Tsuzuki would never smile for him like he did with Anna. No kisses and caresses for Hisoka. She even enjoyed Tsuzuki on a more intimate level, one that was far out of the boy's reach. Anna became the wall between the boys in Hisoka's mind. She was a parasite draining everything from the bond he had with Tsuzuki.
See? Anna is your rival to be taken out of the equation.
Hisoka shook his head. This was going out of portion now. Tsuzuki is happy for a change and not the fake kind either. What right did Hisoka have to destroy it?
But what about you?
Hisoka froze at that question. His heart became heavy. What did he do to deserve this cold outside? Hisoka sighed and looked up at the sky.
This isn't me. I don't know what I'm doing, he thought. Hisoka shuddered in this confusing place. The lump in his throat became coal. I think I'm going to be sick, he thought. His heart twisted in more pain as his head began to ache from the confusion as well.
Come on! Why put yourself though this? There is an easier way to do this.
How?
You know how.
Hisoka shook his head. No!
Oh, but you must.
The boy violently began to shake. I don't want to hurt anybody!
A sound similar to laughter ripped through his head. You have to or enjoy your misery.
A spark snapped in the boy's brain. The fire in his gut burned in a slow, cold heat. I should at least talk to him, Hisoka thought. Yes. That shouldn't hurt, right? He walked further into the trap.
Dance, my little pet, Kohaku thought as he watched the boy walk away. Dance on my strings.