Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Yami no Kenzoku ❯ Chapter Ten ( Chapter 10 )

Notes: Here I am, working on this again, even if I don't really want to because I've been feeling my writing is lacking. Thanks much to the reviewer that informed me of Watari's dialect. When I finish this story completely and go through to make all of my changes I'll be sure to change 'bouya' to 'bon' to go along with his background.

This is the point of the story where it begins to dip into the current happenings of the manga. I'm not following the manga exactly, but I do take a few recently introduced characters and use them. But don't read this and expect it to be a carbon copy of the manga. I have my own ideas about a few things, so I'm just putting them into here.

With that mind, I do try to be accurate about Japan and all of its very, very complicated areas. I did some searching and came up with the exact locations of these places and where they are in references to the Chos, so hopefully, everything is accurate.

Another random note . . . Tsuzuki's reaction to a certain someone is exactly that of Watari's. I thought it was cute so I kept it.

Enjoy and all that, and please keep giving feedback.

--translation/place name notes--

bokken - wooden sword for practicing kata

wakizashi - short sword (between 10 and 12 inches)

kyudo - Japanese archery (remember from chapter 1)

Kanto region - the EnmaCho district of Japan (this is the region Tokyo is in)

Kamakura - a city in the Kanagawa Province

Inamuragasaki - a cape in Kamakura, with Mt. Fuji and Enoshima Island in sight

Shichirigahama - a beach that extends between the capes of Inamuragasaki and Koyurugisaki

Danna(-sama) - meaning master (of a house)

Yami no Kenzoku

Chapter Nine

Hisoka had made a habit of waking up at seven every morning to be able to spend an hour or two in the practice room without interruption from any of the other shinigami. It was not that he minded their presence, but he found it difficult to concentrate on his techniques when other people were around. Especially when that person happened to be Konoe. He understood that the man was supposedly a great swordsman and a skilled martial artist on top of that, but some of the 'pointers' he liked to give (rather, that he /always/ gave) were so absurd Hisoka had to wonder.

Fortunately, he had just finished up and was putting his sword - a wakizashi; he had retired from practicing with the bokken long ago - away when someone else came into the practice room. He looked up from his weapon to find that it was Terazuma, bow and quiver of arrows in hand, with Kaiki following not far after him. Hisoka was surprised that Terazuma was awake this early. Unless he was expected at the agency before nine in the morning, he wouldn't wake up until well after noon, and spent his hours in the practice room between one and two in the afternoon.

"'morning," Hisoka greeted.

Admittedly, he had come a far way from the person he had once been when he had come to EnmaCho. While he was still reclusive and chose to keep more to himself than in the company of others, he had at least become a more civil person, and that was not even with those he had known for his year as a shinigami. With perfect strangers, he could be civil and polite, something that had once been a difficult for him to do.

"Good morning," Kai returned with a smile. He, unlike Hisoka, had been able to settle into the life of a shinigami far easier, as well as adapt to the people around him without trouble. Hisoka supposed that it was his empathy that had made it more difficult for him than Kai.

Terazuma did not say a word of greeting, but gave a slight head of his head to acknowledge Hisoka. Hisoka wasn't offended. Anyone that knew Terazuma could see why he was the way he was. While his behavior could be communicated as rude, it was more that he had never been properly introduced in his life to social situations. They made him uncomfortable, and his way of coping was to be aloof and at times quick-tempered and sarcastic.

"What're you doing?" Hisoka asked, stepping down into the practice room from putting up his weapon. The room was a perfect square, with a surrounding walkway elevated around the center of the room by two steps. It was on the walls around the room that the weapons were arranged on pegs and hooks and in cases.

"Terazuma-san is going to be teaching me kyudo," Kai explained. "We're starting today."

Hisoka raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Kai seemed embarrassed that Hisoka was expressing interest, if the faint blush on his cheeks was any indication. "Yeah . . . I've been wanting to learn for awhile now. Who knows, it might come in handy someday. What about you? Why up so early?"

"I'm always up this early," Hisoka replied. He gestured to the far wall, where he had placed his wakizashi. "Practicing," he explained.

Kai nodded, to indicate that he understood, but did not give a response. Terazuma was beginning to explain the fine points of kyudo to him, and he dedicated his attention to the older shinigami and his instructions. Hisoka took a seat at the far end of the dojo to watch. He doubted that he would interrupt them in any way, and Terazuma did not seem to mind his presence for that matter. He simply continued with his instructions, Kai listening obediently and nodding his head at appropriate moments.

Before an hour was over Terazuma had Kai shooting for his first time. Like all amateurs, he was nothing impressive to behold, but as time went on and Terazuma pointed out his mistakes, Kai began to get the hang of it. That was, his arrows actually started to hit the target, rather than sailing up to the roof, or embedding themselves in the walls. Hisoka was glad that he sat behind them; otherwise he could have easily suffered a wound in a very uncomfortable place.

Certain that Kaiki was not going to kill himself or someone else with his wayward arrows, Terazuma left him to continue with his practice shots and came to sit down beside Hisoka. He slipped out a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it up. If Hisoka was not already dead, he might have complained about it, but circumstances being what they were, the worse effect he suffered was having to smell the heavy scent of tobacco, something he had never been able to tolerate.

"Kai's not bad for a beginner," he said offhandedly.

"Nope," Terazuma agreed. "But I don't think he's a beginner." Terazuma lifted a hand and gestured to Kai. "His form is too precise. I didn't even explain to him the right stances to take. He just knew and did it."

"He does have amnesia," Hisoka replied thoughtfully. "He could have practiced kyudo before."

"And what? He retained it to memory somehow?"

Hisoka shrugged. "He may not remember having learned kyudo, but what he learned has to have stayed with him somehow. That's how he can do this. It's like second nature to him."

Terazuma folded his arms over his knees and leaned forward against them. He chewed on the end of his cigarette, the same way a person would chew on a stick of gum. Hisoka had noticed it was something he did when he was actually, for once, giving careful consideration to something rather than acting on blind impulses, like he oftentimes did.

"Not even Kachou knows where he came from," he murmured.

Hisoka frowned. "Why does it matter? He's just Kai."

"He's just a guy we don't know a thing about," Terazuma corrected. "How can we /not/ assume that he wasn't the shy kid he's cracked up to be?" Dark eyes flicked to Hisoka. "Don't get me wrong. I like Kai. But I've learned trusting people blindly can be the death of you."

"Terazuma-san . . ."

"Well." Terazuma stood and stretched out his arms behind his back, giving a great yawn as he did. "That's just what I think. Even if he was in the mafia or a murderer or whatever, I don't care. He's just Kai."

Hisoka smiled. "Aa."

"Na, Kai, careful!" Terazuma called, turning away from the younger shinigami. "You're going to shoot Kachou in the ass."

Kai blinked and turned around. Not thinking, he released his arrow, sending it sailing straight over the target and dangerously close to piercing Konoe, who had been approaching from the other direction. Hisoka blinked. Neither he nor Kai would have noticed the approach of the chief, but with his heightened senses, Terazuma had known long before either of them that he was coming.

"I-I'm sorry, Kachou!" Kai exclaimed. "I didn't see you!"

Konoe's hardened features relaxed in a smile. "Aa, Shinori-kun. Don't worry. It just missed." He glanced over his shoulder; the arrow was embedded into the wall he stood along, perhaps a centimeter at most from his rear end. He let out an audible sigh of relief. "Ah . . . /just/ missed . . ."

Overcoming his close shave, Konoe stepped down into the practice room, striding across it toward Hisoka. "Just who I was looking for," he said, coming to a stop before the young shinigami.

"Yes sir?"

"There has been a minor change in the schedule," Konoe said. "You and Tsuzuki will not be working together for a brief period of time."

Hisoka frowned slightly. "May I ask why?"

"Ah . . . he is being sent on assignment in the Kanto region with Tatsumi. An investigation came up that we thought he would be useful working on."

"And I wouldn't?" Hisoka asked, feeling slightly insulted that Konoe did not seem to think him capable enough to be sent on assignment outside of his own region.

"Tatsumi and I agreed that it would be better if you were not involved."

Hisoka could not think of a response. He was sure there was some valid reason that they did not want him working on whatever case Tsuzuki had been given, but he could not help but feel insulted that they had purposefully singled him out from anyone else.

"Don't take it personally, Kurosaki-kun," Konoe interrupted his thoughts. He put a hand on Hisoka's shoulder as some kind of comforting gesture. Hisoka shook him away.

"I'm not," he nearly snapped in reply. Okay, so he was. But Konoe didn't need to know that. "If you'll excuse me, sir," he continued, forcing his voice to be calm and neutral, "I'll be going."

Not waiting for a word of parting from Konoe, Hisoka left the practice room. He knew exactly where he was going. There was only one person that would tell him exactly why he was not suitable for this investigation. Hisoka knew that until he found out why he was not allowed to go with Tsuzuki, he would not be able to drop the matter and get on with his life. He supposed that he might as well get it out of the way now, so that he did not have to dwell on it when Tsuzuki was gone.

Tatsumi was seated in his office, not surprisingly. Hisoka did not bother to knock; simply strode in as though it was his office to do in. Tatsumi looked up from the work seated before him, one eyebrow raised.

"Can I help you with something, Kurosaki-kun?" he asked amiably.

"Why are you working with Tsuzuki on whatever case he's been given in Kanto?" Hisoka asked immediately. He did not have the tolerance for small talk, and neither did Tatsumi. It was better to get to the point for the matter.

"Because you are not," Tatsumi answered.

Hisoka blinked. "What kind of answer is that?"

"The correct one. Perhaps you should ask a more specific question."

Why the hell was he toying with him like this? True, it /was/ like Tatsumi to give very precise, to the point answers, but nothing quite as vague as that, no matter if it were the correct answer or not.

Choosing his words carefully, Hisoka asked, "Why can't I work with him on it?"

"Because of the nature of this investigation, we - that is, Tsuzuki-san, Kachou and I - thought it would be best that you not be involved."

"Well what's the investigation?"

"It is in Kamakura. Does that tell you anything?"

When realization would strike like a ton of bricks, it was a figure of speech. For Hisoka, it was not far from the truth. The mere mention of Kamakura sent a wave of emotions and images washing over him, all so overpowering that he had to reach out to grip Tatsumi's desk for support as his knees began to wobble beneath him.

"Kamakura," he breathed, once he had overcome the moment. "You're going to investigate . . . my family . . .?"

"Yes," Tatsumi answered. "A request to investigate Kurosaki Rui came in. Kachou agreed that it was a case that Tsuzuki-san should be sent on. But he did not want you involved when he learned the nature of the investigation."

"But . . . wouldn't I be of /use/ on a case like that? /I/ know them. I could help . . ."

"You also have a troubled past where your family is concerned. No one wants to force you to relive any of that."

Hisoka was not pacified. True, he did have a troubled past, but he did not think of himself as a person that would fall to pieces is forced to be faced with his family. There were more reasons beyond that, of course . . . he wanted to know /why/ his family was being investigated, for one. For another . . . it was for more of a personal reason that he suddenly had the desire to go. Perhaps he could learn more about the family that had shunned him away and come to terms with what had happened.

"I want to go with you and Tsuzuki," he said, looking Tatsumi straight in the eyes, voice hardened with determination.

At length, Tatsumi asked, "Are you certain, Kurosaki-kun?"

Hisoka nodded. "I think . . . it might be the only way I can accept everything, if I know. Maybe there's a reason why they did what they did."

"And if there is no reason? What will you do if the only reason is what you have always believed it to be?"

It was a kind way of saying 'What will you do if the only reason is because they hated you?' but Hisoka appreciated that Tatsumi was delicate about broaching the topic.

And so what, if that was the only reason for why his parents had locked him away? It had been a year since his death; he believed that he had accepted it at this point in his life. Perhaps not come to terms with it, but he /had/ accepted.

"I'll live," he answered.

". . .very well. I will inform Tsuzuki-san and Kachou."

Though Hisoka had been born in Kamakura in the Kanagawa Province of the Kanto region, he had never been allowed beyond Kamakura, and never far away from his home without being accompanied by a servant or his mother. But despite it being his home, a city he had known well as a child, with Tsuzuki and Tatsumi, it seemed a place completely foreign to him. Places he had once known, he had been to, everything, it all seemed so separate from him. He wondered if that was for the better.

"Hisoka!"

His head snapped up to find that Tsuzuki and Tatsumi had gotten far ahead of them. He hastened his steps to catch up with the two older shinigami. It was even stranger, he thought, to be walking these streets when to all of these people, and those that were familiar with the Kurosaki clan, he was dead. Not that he imagined anyone would be able to recognize him. He had been locked away when he was seven years old. None of these people knew what he had looked like when he was sixteen.

Tsuzuki gave a yawn and stretched out his arms above his head. "Hey Tatsum~i, can we stop for lunch? I'm hu~ngry."

"You're never /not/ hungry, Tsuzuki-san," Tatsumi replied. "Wait until it is at least lunchtime."

Tsuzuki leaned over to Hisoka and grumbled in his ear, "Lunchtime to him is eight at night."

"You'll live," Hisoka replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Though it was summertime, as autumn approached the air was beginning to turn chillier, giving justification for he and the other two older shinigami to be dressed not heavily, but warmly.

"You both understand our covers, correct?" Tatsumi asked, glancing briefly at them over his shoulder. He had not missed Tsuzuki's insult, no matter how subtle he had tried to be.

"We're doctors, ne?" Tsuzuki asked. He grinned down at Hisoka. "And Hisoka is posing as your son."

Hisoka shot him a sour look; Tatsumi pursed his lips.

"Correct," he said. "It seems the previous doctor disappeared, and so we will be posing as his replacement."

"Why do they need a doctor anyway?" Tsuzuki inquired. "Is someone sick?"

"That much I don't know. We'll see, I suppose."

Their path through the inner city of Kamakura took them eventually away from residential and commercial areas and closer to the coastline and few mountainous regions. The path winded up into a heavily wooded area that Hisoka recognized almost immediately. This was the path that would lead to his home. It was the path that he had walked every day, when he was allowed to attend public school. Reality of what he was about to approach was finally beginning to seep in.

The house was the same as he remembered. Built in a classic style of Japanese architecture, three stories tall, surrounded by lush growth of trees and vegetation, standing not far from the Inamuragasaki cape and overlooking the coastline of Shichirigahama. Hisoka remembered everything. Nothing had changed.

Tatsumi strode forward without hesitation to ring the bell. Hisoka unconsciously moved to stand behind Tsuzuki. What if they recognized him? Did they even /remember/ him? Or would they know what he looked like, in this sixteen-year-old body? A servant had always been the one to bring him his meals and books; he had not seen his mother and father after he was ten years of age . . . That servant would have been fired by now, he imagined.

"Kamakura is very beautiful," Tsuzuki said conversationally as they waited for the door to be answered. "I've never been before."

"Not everywhere is all it's cracked up to be," Hisoka replied.

Tsuzuki did not have the chance to respond. The door was opened by a servant, a young girl dressed in a kimono that looked rather uncomfortable, as most kimonos were. Considering the wealth of the family, it was not surprising that she was dressed in such a manner. It was only proper.

"May I help you?" she asked, her voice almost timid.

"Ah, my name is Tatsumi Seichirou," Tatsumi said. "I am expected by the master of the house, I believe."

"You are . . . oh! You are the doctor!"

There was a chorus of voices behind her, all echoing her words. Tatsumi and Tsuzuki exchanged glances. These people seemed to be in desperate need of medical aid.

"Please, come in!" the servant said hurriedly, waving them all inside. She bowed stiffly to them. "I am Miya. Thank you very much for coming. Now Rui-sama's condition may improve."

Again, the two older shinigami exchanged glances, while Hisoka seemed to turn a shade paler than what was natural.

"Is this your assistant, sensei?" Miya asked, gesturing to Tsuzuki.

"Ah, I'm Tsuzuki Asato," Tsuzuki said, smiling broadly and offering a hand. "The assistant. And this is, ah . . ." He faltered as he turned to gesture to Hisoka, who was for the most part, hidden behind him.

"Tatsumi Hibiki," Hisoka filled in quickly.

Miya smiled. "Ah, your son, sensei?"

Tatsumi delivered a subtle kick to Tsuzuki's shin to keep him from laughing at his and Hisoka's sudden relations and nodded. "Aa. I would have left him home, but his mother is away visiting family, and I do not trust him to be alone."

Hisoka glared.

"I understand," Miya said, her ever-present smile not fading. "Teenagers these days, hm? Come this way, please, doctors. I will introduce you to the master of the house."

The shinigami followed Miya as she began to lead them through the house. Hisoka still remembered everything from when he was a child. None of this he had ever seen after he was seven, as he had spent his days hidden in the cellar, but even after so many years he remembered. It did not seem that anything had changed.

"Hey," Tsuzuki whispered, nudging him in the side and breaking him from his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

Hisoka nodded; he /was/ fine. His walls to block out his empathy kept him from reliving any bad memories or sensing feelings from anyone, and even as he walked through the place he had once called home, he felt perfectly at ease. Perhaps it was because it was a place he knew so well. Or maybe it was just because he had accepted his past. He doubted it was the latter, but it would have been nice if it was true.

That was, until he heard the voice of his father.

"Thank you for coming, Sensei."

He looked up. Dressed in a kimono beneath a yukata, standing before them in the frame of the study, was his father. But he did not recognize the name. His eyes were hidden to him, wrapped up in white gauze that prevented any of them from knowing his appearance. His hands were bandaged as well, Hisoka realized. And beneath his clothing, who knew . . .

This was his father. And he didn't remember him at all.

"I am Kurosaki Nagare."

Tatsumi introduced himself and Tsuzuki, and then brought Hisoka out from his hiding place to introduce him as well, as Tatsumi Hibiki. Hisoka felt a wave of relief wash over him; the man could not see him, and therefore, could not recognize him. Not that he thought that he /would/ if he could see, he thought somewhat bitterly.

"Well, doctors, if you will follow me . . ."

Nagare made a vague gesture with his hand for them to join him. He began walking the corridors, his pace slow as he sensed his way, but without an difficulty despite the lack of his eyesight. Miya walked with him, to insure that he made it safely. The shinigami followed obediently.

"Hazama-sensei was Rui's previous physician," he explained as they twisted through the corridors and rooms. "He was one of the very few people that was able to help her condition, but a recent accident cost his life. We have been looking for a successor since. Because of the location of this mountain village, we had feared that . . . well, no matter. Thank you again for coming, sensei."

"Nagare-sama," Tatsumi spoke up, speaking respectfully for this man was the master of a clan, "though we are Hazama-sensei's successors, we know nothing of the patient. Are there any records of the doctor's that we may see?"

Nagare paused. "There are no records. They were stolen on the day of that man's death."

"Stolen?" Tatsumi repeated, surprised. "By whom?"

". . . that is not a matter to inquire into, sensei," Nagare said softly. "It would be better if you keep focused on your own work."

Tatsumi and Tsuzuki exchanged glances. Something was amiss. Hisoka sensed it as well. There was something that Nagare was hiding from them, something about Hazama that he did not want them to know. Perhaps the man's death had not been so accidental as Nagare seemed to want them to believe.

"Um . . . sensei," Miya spoke up timidly, "would it be possible for you to look at Danna-sama's eyes?"

"Miya," Nagare said quickly, his voice sharp and reprimanding. The girl flinched.

"Are your eyes not well, Nagare-sama?" Tatsumi asked.

Nagare made a vague gesture with his hand. "It is an affliction from several years past," he said, lifting his hands to his face and beginning to unwind the gauze. Hisoka moved to stand behind Tsuzuki unknowingly.

The last piece of gauze fell away to reveal his eyes. Narrowed, the color of yellow, and pupils slit like those of a snake, they were the oddest pair of eyes that any of the shinigami had ever seen.

"We have tried many remedies, but none seem to work," Nagare explained. "Ah . . . your son, sensei?"

Tatsumi glanced down to Hisoka. The younger shinigami sucked in a sharp breath; did he recognize him?

"Yes, Nagare-sama?" Tatsumi asked.

Nagare continued to look at Hisoka for a moment, then shook his head. "I thought for a moment that I recognized him from somewhere. But I have never seen him before. Come, this way. I will take you to my wife."

Tatsumi followed as Nagare and Miya began to continue on their path down the hall, but Tsuzuki remained behind. Kneeling down, he picked up a small object in his hand, which he held up to the light to get a better look at.

"What is it?" Hisoka asked, turning to him.

"Looks like a scale," Tsuzuki said. "Like from a snake or something."

"Snakes don't shed scales. They always shed full skins. Come on, let's go before they notice we're gone."

Fortunately, no one seemed to have noticed them lagging behind. They had stopped outside of a door at the far end of the corridor. Tsuzuki thought inwardly that only things people wanted to hide away were kept in rooms at the farthest reaches of the house, but he did not comment. He would mention it to Tatsumi later, but for now he was to be a quiet, obedient assistant and nothing else.

"Sensei . . . before I allow you to examine Rui, I have a request."

Tatsumi looked up at Nagare, an eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

"What you see in this room . . . must not be told to anyone. Do you understand?"

Tatsumi frowned, but nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, Nagare-sama. We understand."

Though Nagare did not appear to be at ease at Tatsumi's promise, there was little else he could do for the sake of his wife. With an inward sigh, he pushed open the door and led them into the dark room beyond.

"Ow! Tats--er, sensei, you stepped on my foot!" Tsuzuki complained.

"You should not walk around in the dark, Tsuzuki-sa-ah, Tsuzuki."

"I will strike a light," Nagare said into the darkness.

There came the sound of a match being struck and the room was illuminate in the dim glow of a candle's flame. Tsuzuki found himself standing at the bedside of a woman. Or a woman was what Tatsumi assumed; the figure was disheveled, unnatural. Tsuzuki was justifiably frightened out of his mind.

"DWAA!! MONSTER!"

Tsuzuki squeaked in terror and proceeded to latch onto Tatsumi. The older shinigami rolled his eyes heavenward.

"Tsuzuki, let go of me."

"That is my wife, sensei," Nagare said, unfazed by Tsuzuki's disrespectful behavior. Perhaps because he too saw what a sight his wife had become.

Hisoka could only remain silent, staring at the twisted, pale shape of a woman. The skin was unnaturally pale and seemed to hang off from her, as though her body weight could not support the amount of it. Dark straggles of hair covered nearly all over her hollow, sunken face. But what was most strikingly wrong and disturbing was her stomach. It looked swollen, but not like that of a pregnant woman. It was almost too unnatural to be that way from pregnancy.

"I will explain elsewhere," Nagare said softly. He blew out the candle and took them away from his wife's chambers.

They were soon seated in an attractive room, well-lit and used for serving tea. But after having seen Rui, none of the shinigami could bring themselves to drink, much less eat anything. Not even Tsuzuki, whose stomach grumbled at the sight of the sweet cakes Miya brought for them.

"Nagare-sama," Tatsumi began, "by looking at your wife, one might assume that she is . . ."

"Pregnant?" Nagare finished. "Yes, according to what Hazama-sensei told me, she is."

"Why is she not in the hospital then?" Tsuzuki spoke up, scratching at the back of his head thoughtfully.

Nagare frowned. "These are not matters that I want to be made public."

"It's just a normal pregnancy, right? Why's it such a big deal if anyone knows?"

"A two-year pregnancy is not what I would call normal."

Tsuzuki, who had dared to take a sip of his tea, proceeded to spit it across the room. "T-two years?!"

"Aa. It would be shameful for our family for such rumors to be spread."

Tsuzuki frowned and set down his cup of tea. "Still, it seems a bit harsh, even if the child is an important heir to the family with your only son being dead . . ."

Hisoka's eyes widened and he whirled on Tsuzuki. Realizing at once what he had said, Tsuzuki's hand flew up to slap over his mouth. Nagare's eyes narrowed.

"How did you . . ."

"A servant mentioned it," Tatsumi covered up quickly. "Nothing more."

Nagare relaxed somewhat. Tsuzuki breathed a sigh of relief, but at the glares Hisoka and Tatsumi had fixated on him, he vowed inwardly that it would be better to keep his mouth shut for the remainder of the day. He might do something even more idiotic, like calling Hisoka by his true name rather than Hibiki. He didn't want to imagine how he would be reprimanded for that one.

"What you mean to ask is why is she locked away like that, when the child she bears may be the heir to this family," Nagare clarified.

He sighed, paused, and took a long sip of his tea.

"That is also why I want no one to know of this. The child she carries . . . is /not/ mine."