Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Yami no Kenzoku ❯ Chapter Eight ( Chapter 8 )

Notes: Warnings for general Muraki creepiness. But that doesn't really need much of a warning. And Hisoka nekkidness. But that's not really described and detail. And Tsuzuki doesn't look long enough to appreciate it.

Oh, and I think, because Tsuzuki has been around as a shinigami longer than Terazuma, that's why it's disrespectful when Terazuma attaches even -san or -chan to his name . . . and he's said sempai in reference to Tsuzuki in the manga, so I'm using that. Of course, he's not saying it with any /respect/ but still . . .

I apologize for the briefness of this chapter and uh . . . the odd ending. ^^

Yami no Kenzoku

Chapter Seven

It was a sporadic occasion that Hisoka was able to see Tsuzuki quite like he was at this moment. The carefree, laid-back shinigami he had been partnered with for a year had disappeared and was replaced by that rare person that Hisoka did not know the way he knew Tsuzuki. His eyes had narrowed, his lips had formed a thin line, and he looked in all outward appearances quite like he was about the tear this room to pieces if Muraki stood in their way. The frightening thing was that he /could/ do it if he wanted to.

"I was quite intrigued when this boy came to me." Muraki made a vague gesture of his hand toward Kai, who remained limp in Tsuzuki's arms. His wounds were beginning to heal, but not quickly enough that neither Tsuzuki or Hisoka was any less worried about him.

"He seemed familiar to me, in some way," Muraki continued thoughtfully. "But I couldn't recall having ever known him, much less having killed him. And then he claimed I killed his mother." Muraki gave a shrug of his shoulders. "That could very well be true. I've killed many mothers. But I know him from somewhere else. Of that, I am certain."

"So you thought you'd try to kill him, just for the hell of it?" Hisoka demanded.

Muraki laughed softly. "No, of course not. He was bait, like many of the others I have killed in the past. Bait to lure Tsuzuki-san to me."

The barest flicker of emotion crossed Tsuzuki's face. Muraki smiled in return, knowing that if he wanted to gain any kind of reaction from Tsuzuki, any at all, all he needed to do was mention in an offhand manner all of those people Tsuzuki felt guilt and responsibility over. It was like shoving a knife into an open wound, and it made Hisoka want to break Muraki's nose even more than before.

"What do you want this time, Muraki?" Tsuzuki demanded.

Muraki looked confused by the question. He inclined his head to the side slightly, appearing thoughtful for a moment or two. "What do I want?" he repeated. "I think what I want is what I have always wanted."

Hisoka did not have to be a rocket scientist to know that by that, Muraki meant that it was Tsuzuki that he wanted. Why else would he have used Kai as bait to bring Tsuzuki to him?

"What is between you and I should remain that way," Tsuzuki said quietly. "Whatever you want, I don't want it to involve either of them."

Muraki smiled. "How very admirable of you, Tsuzuki-san. Do you mean to tell me that you will stay with me so long as I allow your friends to go?"

Tsuzuki shrugged slightly, vaguely, and looked away. "You did say we had much to talk about in private," he replied.

Hisoka stared at him. He couldn't be serious. Tsuzuki was not stupid enough to be somewhere with Muraki alone. The gods only knew what the man would do to him . . . but Tsuzuki simply stood there, accepting his fate as it came to him. He really /was/ serious.

"I'm not going anywhere," Hisoka said firmly.

"One of us has to take Kai out of here, and he won't let both of us go with him," Tsuzuki argued. "Take Kai."

Hisoka shook his head. "I already said I'm not going anywhere."

"Now this is amusing," Muraki interrupted. They glanced at him briefly; the same amused smile was playing along his lips. "You know . . . I may be persuaded to take the boy over you, Tsuzuki-san."

"No," Tsuzuki said immediately, but as he was saying the word, Hisoka was asking, "You'd let Tsuzuki and Kai go, right?"

"You've got to be kidding!" Tsuzuki exclaimed, staring at him.

Hisoka did not meet Tsuzuki's gaze, not wanting him to convince him to do otherwise. He knew what he was doing by offering to stay behind. It was like making a pact with the devil. But he would rather that he be the one to stay, not Tsuzuki. What Muraki had done to Tsuzuki . . . he thought it was worse than what Muraki had ever done to him. He didn't want Tsuzuki to be forced through that ever again.

"Well then, who shall go and who shall stay?" Muraki inquired.

"I'll stay," Hisoka answered.

"No you won't!" Tsuzuki exclaimed. "Hisoka!"

Muraki smiled. "Done."

He snapped his fingers and both Tsuzuki and Kaiki vanished from the room.

What little comfort Hisoka had when faced with Muraki vanished with them. Somehow, when Tsuzuki was there with him, he had been able to not be afraid. But now Tsuzuki was gone and he was honestly terrified of what would happen to him. He knew that he was not the one that Muraki really wanted. Muraki could just use him as bait to bring Tsuzuki back to him . . . Hisoka wouldn't have put that past him.

Muraki was smiling at him. Funny, how long it had taken him to realize that. Hisoka turned warily to face him.

"You must care about him very much," Muraki said, approaching Hisoka slowly, "to give yourself up in his place."

Hisoka did not respond; it was not necessary to. Muraki was upon him now. He took a step backward, knowing that it was in vain the second his back pressed up against the wall. If anything, it was a position all the better for Muraki, and he took advantage of it. Catching Hisoka's wrist in hand, he twisted it up and pinned it against the wall, and then leaned forward very close to him. Hisoka turned his face away; he couldn't stand to look into those eyes any longer than he had to.

"Do you think by doing this he will realize the way you feeling about him?" Muraki asked. His voice was soft in Hisoka's ear; warm breath brushed over the side of his face.

"I don't know that you're talking about," he answered quietly.

"You do love him, don't you?"

Hisoka closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the image of what was happening. Muraki did not seem to notice. He only continued what he was doing, running his lips very gently over Hisoka's bare neck and then his clothed shoulders. Hisoka never answered the question.

"Do you think he will come back?" Muraki asked, pausing in his attentions. He gave a slight shrug and chuckled softly. "Well, who knows. It will be amusing if he does. So I should enjoy my time with you as long as I have it . . ."

If he spoke again, Hisoka did not hear him. He had learned how to block from his mind images that came to him when a flood of someone else's feelings assaulted him; he had as well learned how to block out everything that he did not want to believe was happening. And Muraki touching him, kissing him, speaking to him, all of those were things he did not want to believe.

When he did draw himself back into reality, he did not know how much time had passed. He was no longer pinned against the wall in the dark room; Muraki was supporting his weight above him, looking down at him with that thoughtful 'what shall I do next' expression on his face. His clothing had disappeared. That thought came to him rather numbly. He hoped that didn't mean that Muraki had . . .

No, wait. There was something else. A distant sound of someone at the door. Some door; he wasn't sure what door. He hadn't gained enough of his consciousness back to have a true sense of direction.

"Hisoka! Hisoka!"

Right. Someone was pounding on a door in the distance, and someone was calling his name.

Hisoka blinked several times to clear his vision. Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki was the one that was calling his name. He /had/ come back for him.

"Well, this is unfortunate," Muraki commented above him. "You should be thankful, boy. I'll let you go this night."

And just like that, he was gone. Hisoka hated it when he did that.

A moment later he became aware of the sound of the door being broken down. Tsuzuki called his name another time, his voice drawing steadily closer as he neared the room. Only a second later had he flung the door open and stepped into the candle-lit room.

"Hisoka!"

Hisoka turned his head to the side slightly. The anxious expression on Tsuzuki's face faded away almost immediately and was replaced with a very deep blush and the widening of his eyes. He whipped around and cried, "I didn't see anything! I didn't! I really didn't!"

Hisoka blinked and looked down. Oh yeah, his clothes were gone. This was embarrassing.

He snatched up a blanket around himself, feeling his own blush sweeping over him and coloring him a rather interesting shade of red. Tsuzuki turned around once he was sure that Hisoka had covered himself completely.

"I came too late, didn't I?" Tsuzuki asked softly.

"I don't know," Hisoka answered honestly. "Don't think so. I'm not hurting or anything." It was embarrassing to say, but the truth. If Muraki had actually succeeded in doing anything, he somehow doubted that he would have done it in a very gentle way.

"Are you okay?" Tsuzuki asked, stepping closer into the room.

Hisoka shrugged. "Like I said, I'm not in any pain. Is Kai all right?"

"Don't know. I took him back and immediately came back here . . ." Tsuzuki kept his eyes lowered, despite the fact that Hisoka was, for the most part, completely covered. "To get you," he finished. "Sorry . . . that I didn't come sooner."

"It's okay . . . can you find my clothes, though?"

Tsuzuki attempted to locate his clothing amid the tossed blankets, but eventually came up with nothing. Hisoka supposed that Muraki had undressed him in the back room before bringing him here. He didn't particularly feel like telling Tsuzuki that though. He didn't want him to go away, even if it was only for a few moments.

"Great, I'll just run around naked . . ." Hisoka muttered below his breath.

He noticed that Tsuzuki was not speaking. Looking up, he found the older shinigami unbuttoning his shirt, and a moment later letting it fall down over Hisoka's head.

"That should be fine until we get back to our room," he said quietly.

Hisoka slowly took the offered shirt and slipped his arms through the sleeves. Once it was fully buttoned, he very carefully climbed off the bed, cautious of having something seen that he did not particularly want to be seen. Fortunately, the hem of the shirt fell to his knees, and it was a dark enough shade of blue that nothing could be seen through the material.

He managed to walk a few steps forward before he was grasping Tsuzuki's arm for support. The older shinigami did not seem to mind. Hisoka slipped his arm through Tsuzuki's, and with Tsuzuki holding his hand in his own to balance him, he was able to make it down the long flight of stairs and into the darkened corridor. There, he had regained some sense of full consciousness and could have very well released Tsuzuki, but he kept hold of him. Tsuzuki did not say anything.

The others had gathered outside of their rooms, Hisoka saw as he and Tsuzuki slowly approached. Watari was missing from the group, which most likely meant that he was still with Kaiki. One member had been added to their group in their place, however. Konoe had rejoined them. Apparently Tatsumi had been able to pull some strings to take him out of the game.

"Tsuzuki-san," Tatsumi began, taking a step forward. He did not get very far. Tsuzuki spared him a single look, and the expression in his eyes said everything. Tatsumi gave a slight nod to indicate that he understood, and then guided Tsuzuki and Hisoka into their room.

"Will you two be all right on your own?" he asked once they were in private.

Tsuzuki glanced down at Hisoka. "I think we'll be fine. Ne, Hisoka?"

Hisoka gave a shrug of his shoulders in response. "Yeah, we'll be fine," he echoed, more to reassure Tatsumi that he was not broken than for any other reason. He didn't want Tatsumi to stay with them. The man was a comforting presence, he always had been, but Hisoka did not particularly want to be with anyone but Tsuzuki at this moment.

Fortunately, Tatsumi trusted both of them, and left them alone. Hisoka went immediately into the bathroom and began to strip away Tsuzuki's clothing to take a warm bath. The older shinigami remained outside in the main room, leaning up against the door of the bathroom, to be there if Hisoka needed him but not close enough that Hisoka would feel uncomfortable with his presence.

Hisoka sank gratefully into the deep bath filled to the brim with bubbles. He was certain that Muraki had done nothing to him, and for that reason he was grateful. But he was still shaken by the thought of what /could/ have happened if Tsuzuki had never come for him, like Muraki had said he would not.

What /would/ he do if Tsuzuki did not come for him as often as he did? Tsuzuki had come to rescue him when Muraki had kidnapped him in Nagasaki . . . he had come for him on the Queen Camellia, when the ship was going under and he had been too transfixed by what he had done to Tsubaki to move . . . and he had come when Satsujinsha would have possessed him. He /always/ came. But what would he do if Tsuzuki did not come? Would he be able to make it on his own?

Hisoka snorted softly to himself. No. He'd die. Because he was not as powerful as Tsuzuki, or even on the same level as Tatsumi, or gods, probably even Terazuma. He had nothing compared to them. He would always be weak. He would always need rescuing. Always and forever would be the sixteen-year-old kid that needed someone to hold his hand to walk across the street.

"You don't have to lurk out there, Tsuzuki," he said softly. "Come in."

He could see Tsuzuki move slightly from his position against the door. He called back, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Tsuzuki slipped into the bathroom a moment later. Under normal circumstances, he would have moved all the way away from Hisoka to sit a safe distance away, but for tonight he remained marginally close. By close, that meant he had not pinned himself against the furthest wall, but was instead seated on a counter not far from the bath where Hisoka was.

"Feel better?" he asked at length.

Hisoka had folded his arms over the edge of the bath and was resting his head against them, eyes closed. He smiled faintly. "Mm-hm. He didn't do anything, Tsuzuki, I'm sure. So I really am okay. I just . . . needed this, I guess."

By this, he meant tranquility and quiet to relax in, to draw himself completely from the state he had put himself into when Muraki had begun showering him with his 'attentions'. It was a difficult thing to do, to completely pull his consciousness away from himself, and it was even more difficult to recover from it quickly.

"I'm glad . . . really glad," Tsuzuki said softly. "If anything happened to you . . . I'd never forgive myself."

"Don't feel bad," Hisoka replied. He didn't want Tsuzuki to begin feeling guilty about what had happened. "Please."

"I'm just worried about you . . . ne, Hisoka."

"Hm?"

Tsuzuki was not looking at him, but tangling around a towel in his hands. "I want to give you one of my shikigami. So I know that way, someone is always looking out for you, and I won't worry as much."

Hisoka stiffened. What Tsuzuki was asking to give him was hard for him to give up. Hisoka knew of the close bond he had with his shikigami. It took a great deal for him to be able to offer one to him. But that did not change the fact that what Tsuzuki wanted to give him was out of pity. It was charity. Hisoka refused to accept any charity.

"I don't want one of your shikigami," he responded. "And I don't want your charity."

Tsuzuki looked up, startled. "It's not charity . . ."

"It is to me," Hisoka said quietly. "Tsuzuki, believe me, I am grateful to you every time that you come to my rescue, but . . . I feel worthless. Like I can't even do a thing to protect myself and I /need/ to depend on others. I don't. I don't need you to give me one of your shikigami. If I should have one, then . . . I'll find one on my own."

"Hisoka . . . it's not that easy . . ."

"I don't want it to be easy. Accepting one of yours is easy. I don't want that. I can do it on my own."

"If you say so," Tsuzuki said in a soft voice.

"Hand me a towel, would you?"

Tsuzuki rummaged around in the cupboards for a moment before coming up with a large white towel. He held it out to Hisoka, careful to keep his eyes averted as the younger shinigami stepped out of the tub and took the offered object. He waited until Hisoka had dried himself completely and wrapped up in the towel before turning back to look at him.

"Sorry," Tsuzuki said. "I didn't mean for it to seem like it was charity."

Hisoka offered him some semblance of a smile. But, "I know," was the only response he gave.

While Hisoka was buttoning one of his over-sized shirts to sleep in, Tsuzuki had already climbed into bed to sleep away the evening's sorrows. Hisoka finished what he was doing and paused a moment, casting an almost nervous glance in Tsuzuki's direction. He knew that he shouldn't ask. But that didn't stop him from crossing the room and coming to stand at Tsuzuki's bedside.

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

Tsuzuki turned and looked at him, an vaguely startled expression on his face. But it faded away with seconds and was replaced with his usual carefree smile. "Sure," he replied, shifting over a bit to make room. "Make yourself comfortable."

He held up a fold of the covers for Hisoka to slide beneath, which the younger shinigami did. He tugged down one of the many pillows and curled up around it, content to be by Tsuzuki's side and nothing more.

"Good?" Tsuzuki asked.

Hisoka opened his eyes and found Tsuzuki looking at him still. He nearly blushed under the gaze.

"Good," he answered. "Good night, Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki smiled. "G'night, Hisoka."

For someone that had spent the evening quite like Hisoka had, Kaiki was of the opinion that he looked far happier than he should have the next morning.

Happy was not quite the word to describe it, he supposed as he poked at the gruel the cooks were attempting to pass off as oatmeal. He simply did not look quite like he had been forced through anything particularly traumatizing the night before. From what Tatsumi had told he and Watari, Kai would have thought that he wouldn't even have come down for breakfast, much less graced any of them with his presence. But he seemed, in all outward appearances, quite fine.

Regardless of whether or not nothing had happened at all, Kai could not rid himself of the feeling of guilt that had settled into his stomach the night before and still had yet to leave him. If he had not gotten it into his head that he had to go and find Muraki, then he would have never ended up in the position he had, and the others would have never had to come searching for him.

But he could not help doing what he had done. Ever since hearing that the man whose name was burned into the flesh of his arm was in this very manor, he had felt almost possessed by a force not his own. In fact, he had not even realized that he /was/ going to look for Muraki until he had found him, and even then, he did not know how he had managed to find the secret corridor and up the stairs to Muraki's chambers. That, as much as guilt over Hisoka, was bothering him, and he did not think he would get over it anytime soon.

He shook his head and forced his mind to focus on what was happening around him. Watari was talking to Tsuzuki, while the others seemed content to listen for the moment. Aside from Terazuma, that was, who was having difficulty with Wakaba nettling him about his smoking, but that was nothing surprising.

From what Watari had told him of his co-workers, Terazuma was unfortunate enough to harbor a shikigami in his body, that often surfaced when he was touched by those of the opposing gender, or when the weather was humid. Only Wakaba was able to take him out of that state, otherwise he was forced to deal with it until the shikigami, Kagankokushungei (whom Watari called Kuro-chan for short), released his body. Fortunately, Terazuma had been able to build up a resistance where Wakaba was concerned, and did not have to worry about the shikigami surfacing when she touched him.

The others . . . he knew very little about Tatsumi aside from his general personality, and that he was one of the very few people in the world that had the art of mastery over shadows. Tsuzuki was almost the same; he knew that he was considered to be the most powerful of the shinigami, what with his ability with fuda and the fact he possessed twelve shikigami of his own, but aside from that Kai knew very little. The same went for Hisoka, whom he knew as an empath, and as a murder of victim, but aside from that, nothing. It didn't seem that any of the shinigami liked to discuss their personal lives.

"Excuse me . . . if I may have your attention."

A servant was standing at the head of room, waving her arms around to catch the attention of all the guests. She did not have to wait long until all attention was directed to her; Watari had explained to Kai that it was during breakfast that announcements of the 'deceased' were made, and a few clues given out in the hopes a guest might solve the mystery.

The servant gave her report, but Kaiki didn't really listen. It seemed like another of the business tycoons staying at the Descartes Manor had disappeared, a 'murder' victim of the game. Since Kai did not think that their purpose as shinigami here any longer was to play the game, he wasn't too interested.

"Hey kiddo, are you okay?" Watari asked suddenly, jabbing him in the side. Kai jumped, startled from his thoughts.

"I-I'm fine," he said quickly.

"Well, you're not eating, is all," Watari replied with a shrug.

Kai looked down at his abandoned bowl of oatmeal. "Not very hungry," he said, and he shoved the dish away from him. "Watari-san--"

"Watari."

". . . Watari. Are we going to stay here?"

Watari glanced at him from the blueprints he had spread out before him; another wacky invention he had come up with the night before. His eyebrows rose above the rims of his glasses.

"Well, sure," he answered. "Why wouldn't we?"

Kai glanced nervously at Tsuzuki and Hisoka. "Well, because of . . . Muraki."

"Oh. That. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. Tatsumi doesn't want us to leave until this game is over. He and Tsuzuki seem to think that our friend the psychotic doctor is going to make it a real blood fest."

Kai paled. "He'd do that?"

"He loves attention."

"Great . . ."

It was Watari's idea, if Tsuzuki recalled correctly, that they all relax from their recent incidents with Muraki by sitting around and playing a game of poker. Tatsumi had politely declined, of course, and Konoe was remaining in hiding since he had been claimed as a 'victim' long ago, and so the other shinigami were seated in the room Watari and Kaiki shared, playing round upon round of poker. They were of course not betting with money; none of them could stand to lose any with how very little the pay was in the Shokan Division, and instead were using cookies. Terazuma was winning.

"I fold," Kai said with a sigh, lying down his hand of cards.

"Me too," Wakaba echoed. "No use trying when we /know/ Hajime-chan will win."

Terazuma smirked slightly at the vague praise, but said nothing.

Watari and Hisoka had already folded long ago; they knew that whatever they had was nothing compared to what Terazuma had in his hand, and they hadn't even seen what cards he had. But four rounds straight of him lying down a royal flush was good enough cue for anyone to quit playing.

Tsuzuki's eyes flicked from his cards to Terazuma, then to his cards and again to Terazuma. "I'll raise you five," he said finally.

Terazuma raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that /sempai/?"

Tsuzuki glared. "Six then."

Terazuma was quiet for a moment, contemplating his hand as he chewed at the end of his cigarette. Finally, he took six cookies from his pile, and tossed them to the center of the table. Another three followed.

"I see your six and raise you three."

Tsuzuki's eyebrow twitched.

"I see that and raise you . . ." He paused to count all of his cookies. "Five!"

"I'll take that bet."

Both added another five cookies to the growing pile in the center of the table. Tsuzuki's eyebrow continued to twitch; he had expected Terazuma to fold!

"What have you got, sempai?" Terazuma asked.

Tsuzuki fixated another glare on him and was silent for quite a long time. Finally, he threw his cards to the table, face down.

"I fold," he mumbled.

"Tsk," Terazuma said, and he put down his cards.

He had absolutely nothing. A three, a six, a two, a seven, and one jack.

"Wha--! You cheated!" Tsuzuki exclaimed.

"No, I just bluff better than you do," Terazuma replied calmly.

"Don't be a poor sport, Tsuzuki-san," Wakaba said cheerfully, reaching over to pat him on the head. "Losing to Hajime-chan really isn't anything to be ashamed of. He's always been very good at this game."

Terazuma gestured to the pile of cookies he had accumulated. "You can have those, Kannuki. I don't like sweets."

Tsuzuki's eyes widened even further if it was at all possible. "WHA???"

"Here you go, Tsuzuki-san," Wakaba said, and she shoved one of the cookies into his open mouth. Tsuzuki made a face and munched on it without enthusiasm.

Not long after Wakaba had divided up the cookies to give everyone an equal amount so no one would have reason to complain, there came a knock at the door. Watari did not bother to get up an answer it, but simply called for whoever it was to come in by their own free will, tempting their fate by doing so. Which was, in many cases, the truth considering some of the insane inventions Watari could come up with in two seconds, or if he were testing out another of his new potions. The exception to this was Tatsumi, as the inventions seemed to be as terrified of him as everyone else was. And it was Tatsumi that entered the room.

"Lucille has just informed me of a death," he said.

"That's our Tatsumi," Watari said, shaking his head. "No hello. No how are you. Just straight to the point."

"Who was it this time?" Hisoka piped up. He had remained quiet for the majority of the day, but insisted on keeping close to Tsuzuki. So where Tsuzuki went, so did he.

Tatsumi frowned. "Not a 'death'," he said. "A death. One of the guests has been murdered."

This news brought no cocky comments from Watari, much less a reaction from the other shinigami. If anything, they had been expecting this to happen, what with Muraki wandering around like he was. It was only a matter of time until he claimed his first victim.

"Who was it?" Tsuzuki asked finally.

"A man by the name of Sagumo Takahashi," Tatsumi answered. "From what Watari and I learned about the other guests, he is quite a well-known businessman in Tokyo, that does, of course, have a darker side. He dealt often in the selling of drugs on the black market and was a frequent visit to a bordello where he made his business deals."

"Bordello," Hisoka repeated. "Not . . . that one."

Tatsumi shook his head, knowing that Hisoka referred to KoKakuRou. "No, it is a private bordello just outside of Tokyo."

"And Muraki is the one behind it," Tsuzuki said. "I /knew/ this would happen . . . I should have done something to try and prevent it . . ."

"Don't blame yourself, Tsuzuki-san," Tatsumi returned quietly, exerting that very small amount of concern for Tsuzuki he would show in the presence of others. "But now we will have to make a conscious effort to stop him."

"Why is he doing this at all?" Kai spoke up.

"Bait, maybe," Tsuzuki said, with more than a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Attention," Watari suggested.

"He's psychotic," Hisoka added in.

"He's creepy," Wakaba chirped.

"Beats me," Terazuma shrugged.

Kai paled. ". . . . . oh. Okay then. Sorry I asked."