Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Did you have a fun bonding experience?” Kakyou asked, opening the door to let Fuuma and Tsuzuki in. He had heard Fuuma fumbling for his keys outside, and as he could see them sitting on the kitchen table, figured he should put the teenager out of his misery. Tsuzuki was behind him, peering around for Hisoka.
“Oh, yeah, loads of fun,” Fuuma said, walking inside.
“Hisokaaaa!” Tsuzuki spotted Hisoka on the couch, looking exhausted. He bounded over in his typical Tsuzuki-overdoing-everything manner. “I was sooo worried!” he proclaimed, glomping onto his partner.
Hisoka hugged back with a small smile. It was a distinct relief to see Tsuzuki back to his old self. “I’m okay. Just tired.”
Fuuma looked at Kakyou. “So how’d you do it?”
Kakyou looked tired, but otherwise all right; he’d been puttering in the kitchen when Fuuma arrived. “Well, I just walked into his dream like I would any other, asked him to let me take over, did so, and then kicked Gimpy’s ass.” He sneered slightly. “I really hate her.”
“Good for you,” Fuuma said, glancing over to see Hisoka contentedly being held by Tsuzuki, hiding his face in Tsuzuki’s shirt. “So she was behind it, huh?”
Kakyou nodded. “Something has to be done about her in a serious way. She keeps changing the end. It’s like a kick to the back of my head every time she does it.”
“Well, no one kicks my Kyou,” Fuuma said, thudding into one of the chairs. “But what do you suggest we do about it?”
“Kill her,” Kakyou suggested.
“I can’t,” Fuuma said. “I’d never get into their stupid hideout and past all the stupid Seals.”
“The problem is that it’ll take two people,” Kakyou mused, “no matter who does it.”
“Why two people?” Fuuma asked. “She can’t walk, can she? All we need is a gun.”
Kakyou raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been hanging around Mr. Stone Face too long,” he said, recalling Seishirou’s solution to Muraki. “You can’t just shoot her. She won’t let you. She can pull you into a dream before you get a shot off, and there she makes the rules.”
“In general, Seishirou’s rule of guns is a good one,” Fuuma said. “But you have a point. So what’s your plan?”
“I’m not sure if I have a plan,” Kakyou admitted. “See, the problem is no matter what anyone did she would just pull them into a Dreamscape and I’m the only one who knows how all that works. And yes, I am more powerful than her, but as much as it galls me to admit it, she has more experience. She’s most likely perfected tricks I haven’t even thought of yet.”
“Ano . . .” Fuuma frowned. “Well, if she’s evil, why don’t we just tell the Seals?” He glanced at Tsuzuki, wondering if he could fight Hinoto with any chance of winning, but Tsuzuki didn’t seem to be paying much attention. He was busy hugging Hisoka, and Fuuma wasn’t about to interrupt that.
“Because I really want to kill her?” Kakyou asked jokingly. “No, we could just tell them. Or rather, they can.” He motioned to the Shinigami.
“I think that might be the best plan,” Fuuma said. “I mean, she’s their Dreamgazer.”
“She’s not anybody’s but her own,” Kakyou corrected.
“Well, hell. She’s more theirs than ours.”
Kakyou glanced over at the hugging Shinigami and noted that they weren’t paying any attention in the slightest. Hisoka was still hiding his face against Tsuzuki’s chest, and the older Shinigami had buried his face in Hisoka’s hair. “So what did you and Tsuzuki talk about?” he asked, lowering his voice so they wouldn’t suddenly start listening.
“Ah, I just talked sense into the idiot,” Fuuma said off-handedly. “They’re madly in love, you know.”
Kakyou smiled. “I suspected.”
“He was trying to insist that the kid was better off without him, but I gave him a swift kick to the head.”
“Oh, yeah, because you’ve never done anything like that.” Kakyou poked Fuuma in the chest, highly amused.
“Hey, that only gives me the right to administer the kick,” Fuuma said defensively. “Since I got over myself.”
Kakyou laughed quietly. “I really love you.”
Fuuma smiled and pulled Kakyou onto his lap. “I love you too,” he said, and, totally ignoring their audience, kissed Kakyou thoroughly.
“Umph,” Kakyou said, then melted into it. “We have guests, you know.” There was a slight gleam in his eyes that hinted at the fact that he would rather kick the guests out than get off Fuuma’s lap.
“We could be having sex right now and they wouldn’t notice,” Fuuma pointed out, at which point Tsuzuki looked up and gave him a rather offended look. Fuuma shrugged and decided to give the Shinigami privacy to talk over some things. He scooped Kakyou up, putting the Dreamgazer over his shoulder in the grog-has-woman pose. “Hey, guys, we’re gonna let you talk this out. If you need us for anything, we’ll be in the bedroom. Knock first.”
Hisoka and Tsuzuki both stared at them. Tsuzuki was blushing faintly. Kakyou was already beginning to work his fingers under the waistband of Fuuma’s pants in back, with a stupid I’m-about-to-get-some smirk on his face. Fuuma carried him into the bedroom and kicked the door shut.
“They have no shame, do they,” Hisoka said wonderingly. His voice was calm, but shook very slightly. Hardly anyone would have noticed.
“None at all,” Tsuzuki said. He, in fact, was hardly anyone. He ran a comforting hand through Hisoka’s hair. “Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean really okay?”
Hisoka took a deep breath, trying vainly to keep hold of himself. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m really . . . oh God.” He swallowed hard, unable to talk around the lump in his throat. Until now, he hadn’t realized exactly how bad an effect the dream had had on him. He hid his face in Tsuzuki’s shirt again.
Tsuzuki kissed the top of his head, trying to both make up for their argument and surrender at the same time. “Just relax,” he said softly. “No one will think badly of you if you cry, you know.”
“No one except me.” Hisoka’s voice was muffled in Tsuzuki’s shirt. He was still trying not to cry, and absolutely disgusted with himself.
“Why would you think that?” Tsuzuki asked, hugging him tighter. “You’re allowed.”
“I don’t know . . .” Hisoka’s voice trailed off. “Because I’m a wimp and I whine too much and I-I’ll never find anyone who really c-cares for me and . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence. In fact, he bit it off with some force, sniffling and now feeling even more stupid.
“I care for you,” Tsuzuki said quietly. “And you may whine, but I mope, and I’ve been doing it for a hundred years. You still have a lot of time to make up for it. Just let it go.”
“But . . . but you said . . .” Hisoka shut his eyes tightly. They had started to sting. “But you’re mad at me and . . .”
Tsuzuki gave up on waiting for Hisoka to work his way back to coherency. “Yeah, I was mad at you, but I was being stupid. I’m not mad at you now.” Another tight hug. “I was wrong. Now stop bottling yourself up before you explode.”
Hisoka managed not to cry, but chose to babble instead. “But I-I was locked into when I was little and my mother kept me in that awful place and I couldn’t get out and I was so scared but I didn’t remember anything that had happened afterwards, it was like I was eight years old again and it was scary . . .”
“You’re not there now,” Tsuzuki said. He was running out of comforting words. He’d never had a very large repertoire. “Your mother can’t do that to you anymore.”
“But it was so real . . .” Hisoka gave up and let the tears fall. Some distant corner of his brain still felt stupid, but it was only Tsuzuki there, and he’d never been afraid of showing his emotions in front of Tsuzuki.
“You’re safe now.” Tsuzuki just held him, gently smoothing his hair.
Hisoka abandoned all semblance of dignity and sobbed into Tsuzuki’s shirt, too miserable and tired to even realize that he was going to feel like both an idiot and a wuss when he came to his senses. Tsuzuki just kept hugging him, making comforting noises, waiting for the tears to stop.
Eventually, Hisoka wore himself out. His tears slowed to sniffles.
“Feeling a little better?” Tsuzuki asked.
“Aa . . .” Hisoka’s voice was hoarse.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Tsuzuki asked hesitantly.
“I don’t know,” Hisoka said, at some length.
“Well, you don’t have to,” Tsuzuki said, giving him a tight squeeze. “But if you think it’ll help, I’d be happy to listen.”
“I sorta feel better,” Hisoka said. He looked almost dazed. “I’ve never cried about my parents before.”
“Well, then you were due the chance,” Tsuzuki said comfortingly.
“Don’t know why,” Hisoka said faintly. “It shouldn’t bother me anymore. It’s been years . . .”
“Just because it’s been years doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt anymore.” That was a fact Tsuzuki knew all too well. Eighty years hadn’t taken the sting out of Takeshi’s death. He hadn’t even stopped having the nightmares until years afterwards. Actually, they had stopped when he met Hisoka. An omen, to be sure.
“Why do I care?” Hisoka mumbled. “They . . . they didn’t . . .”
“Because they were your parents,” Tsuzuki said. “They were supposed to love you. It’s okay to feel hurt.” He wiped the last of Hisoka’s tears off his face with a gentle thumb.
“But I-I was just a freak,” Hisoka said. “There was no reason to love a freak like me.”
Tsuzuki stared at him for a second, remembering when he had said very similar words to Takeshi. He had gotten angry, angry at the world for treating his beloved Tsuzuki like this. Tsuzuki knew that it hadn’t been the right way to comfort him. Maybe his having Hisoka was karma -- but in a different way. Maybe it was his chance to make things right. So he kissed his forehead and said the words that no one had ever said to him. “You were just different. You still deserve love. You have something special, but that doesn’t mean that you should be punished for it.”
“But . . . if I deserve love . . . then why doesn’t anyone . . .” Hisoka stopped, turning red. “No. Never mind. I’ll just . . . go.” He started to stand up, pulling free from Tsuzuki’s arms.
“No.” Tsuzuki caught him and pulled him back down onto the sofa. “People do love you. Your friends love you. I love you.” He stated it firmly, with no hesitation.
Hisoka settled back into his arms, but he didn’t look pleased about it. “Oh, sure,” he said bitterly. “Now you say it.”
Tsuzuki wilted. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I should have said it earlier. And I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you. I’m sorry.”
“Like I’d suddenly believe you,” Hisoka said, though, curiously enough, he was still making no real effort to escape Tsuzuki’s embrace. “You’re just trying to make me feel better. You don’t really love me. There’s nothing here worth loving.”
“You can be angry with me if you want,” Tsuzuki said. “You’re right; I do want you to feel better. But you are worth loving. I just . . . never said it. Partly because I was afraid for you, and partly because I was too . . . too stupid to get over myself.”
Hisoka drooped against him. “I’m not angry with you. I just don’t know how to believe it.”
“Well, believe this,” Tsuzuki said with a slight smile. “I’m an idiot and I love you.”
“But . . .” Hisoka stared at him, fresh tears running down his cheeks. “Oh God,” he said, realizing that he was crying and burying his face in Tsuzuki’s shoulder.
Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around Hisoka’s shoulders. “But what?”
“But you deserve so much better than me . . .” It was a good thing Fuuma wasn’t in the room at that moment. He might have throttled them both.
“And I think you deserve better than me,” Tsuzuki said with a shrug. “Maybe we can settle for each other, before Fuuma kills us both.”
“Settle?” Hisoka asked incredulously. “God, I would never settle for you . . .” He was trying desperately not to start crying again.
Tsuzuki wiped the tears off Hisoka’s face. “I’m sorry I upset you,” he said. He didn’t really care about settling or not settling as long as Hisoka stopped arguing.
“It’s not your fault . . . it isn’t your fault at all . . . why do you always think it is?”
“Because a lot of the time it is,” Tsuzuki said. “And I was being an idiot.”
“It’s not like I was being brilliant either.”
“Well, maybe not,” Tsuzuki admitted. “But your argument was at least reasonable. Though you were wrong. I do trust you. It’s just that I wasn’t ready to talk about some of the things in my past. It wasn’t you.”
“No . . . I should have understood. It’s not like I’m the most open person in the world.” Hisoka rubbed his eyes. “It’s just that I love you so much that . . . that it hurt when you wouldn’t tell me. It hurt me so much that I didn’t know what to do, so I got angry.”
“It’s all right,” Tsuzuki said. “It’s not like keeping it all in is helping much either. I’m glad that you care enough to want to know.”
“Why don’t you believe that you deserve me?” Hisoka asked quietly.
“I could ask the same of you,” Tsuzuki said gently. “It never really works out with people I love, and I’m just not very good to be around a lot of the time. I just didn’t want to do that to you.”
“Aa . . . but I love being around you,” Hisoka said thoughtfully. “I don’t think you’ll ever do that to me.” Tsuzuki hugged him, and he snuggled into it. “I guess . . . I believe it because everyone I’ve ever met has thought so little of me. My parents called me a monster. They didn’t even come visit me while I was dying in the hospital. And then I was just the baby of the department when I became a Shinigami and I felt like I wasn’t helping you.”
“That’s not true,” Tsuzuki said. “You’ve helped me a lot. I used to think I wasn’t human enough to deserve anything, let alone love. You cured me of that. And we’ll all be babies as long as Tatsumi is around. He does that to people.”
Hisoka smiled. “We really are good for each other. Who’d have thought?”
“Fuuma,” Tsuzuki said, returning his smile.
Hisoka rested his head against Tsuzuki’s chest. “Please don’t ever leave me, Tsuzuki.”
“I don’t plan to,” Tsuzuki assured him. He knew better than to make promises he might not be able to keep, but he would do his best.
Hisoka sniffled. “God, I feel so stupid . . .”
“Why?” Tsuzuki asked, lost.
“Because I just can’t stop crying . . .” Hisoka wiped away a few more tears.
Tsuzuki shrugged, still hugging him. “Then you obviously needed to get it out.”
“Dad hated it when I cried,” Hisoka murmured. “He used to call me a baby.”
“Well, he was wrong,” Tsuzuki said firmly. “And you can make up for all the lost time if you want, ‘cause I don’t mind.”
“Sometimes I would cry because I knew nobody cared,” Hisoka said, his fists clenching involuntarily in Tsuzuki’s shirt. “And then if he found out he would . . .” His voice choked and stopped.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Tsuzuki said, kissing the top of his head. “Cry all you want.”
Hisoka let out a single choked sob. “Think I’ve used up my quota of tears for the day,” he said shakily.
“If you’re sure,” Tsuzuki said.
“Aa,” Hisoka replied. “I’m so tired. It was hard to get out of the dream even with Kakyou’s help . . . I feel like I haven’t slept for days.”
“We can go back to the hotel, if you want,” Tsuzuki said. “We’ll order some takeout and then you can get to bed.”
“Can we please?” Hisoka asked, feeling pathetically hopefully. “Shouldn’t we, uh, let them know?”
Tsuzuki tipped his head towards their door. “I think they’re busy,” he said finally. “We can leave them a note.”
~~~~
Seimei had been pacing around the living room for the past half hour, which was the entire amount of time he’d been home from school. Jack was getting dizzy just from watching him. Seishirou had told Seimei that he had, in fact, directed Tsuzuki to Kakyou’s in the late morning, and now Seimei was waiting impatiently to hear back.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when the doorbell rang, and he immediately went to answer it. Hisoka was standing on the front step, looking exhausted, but smiling. Seimei immediately glomped onto him. “Oof,” Hisoka said weakly. “Don’t suffocate me. I’ve had a long day.”
“You’re already dead,” Seimei said, hugging him tighter, then pulling him into the apartment. “I can’t suffocate you.”
“That doesn’t make it any more pleasant for me,” Hisoka grumbled.
Seimei ushered Hisoka into the living room and settled him onto the couch, then sent Jack to his room and retrieved a mug of tea. Seishirou watched all this with amusement; Subaru had left to check on Kamui. “So I take it Kakyou pulled you out okay?” he asked.
“Aa,” Hisoka said. “Though I still don’t feel very well.”
“Well.” Seishirou considered it. “That’s good. That you’re okay, I mean.”
Hisoka half-smiled. “I figured.”
Seishirou stood. “I’ll just go . . . somewhere else. That isn’t here.” With that, he disappeared into his room.
“So what happened?” Seimei asked him anxiously.
“Well,” Hisoka said, “Hinoto trapped me by locking me into my own memories, which pretty much sucked, but Kakyou got in and pulled me out and now I’m very tired.”
“And Tsuzuki didn’t completely tweak out?” Seimei asked. “He seems like the tweaking type.”
“He was upset, but mostly it was me doing the tweaking,” Hisoka admitted.
“So things are all good between you now?” Seimei asked. He was answered with a large grin. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Hisoka reached over and tugged on Seimei’s sleeve. “He was so worried about me that Fuuma managed to get him to admit he was in love with me,” he stated, the grin approaching goofiness level.
“Told ya so,” Seimei said, smiling.
Hisoka leaned back into the cushions, looking quite pleased with himself.
“So if you made up, why are you here? I mean, I appreciate it, but I didn’t expect you to ever pry yourself out of his arms,” Seimei said.
“Well, Tsuzuki said he told Seishirou, and I was pretty sure Seishirou would have told you, so I figured I had better come tell you that I was okay. And Tsuzuki went to give the same news to Tatsumi and Watari.”
“I’m glad everything was cleared up,” Seimei said with a nod.
“How’s your dad doing?” Hisoka asked, not an unreasonable question, given that the last time he’d seen him had been just after Rainbow Bridge.
Seimei leaned over and said quietly, “I found him in bed this morning with Sumeragi-san. I mean, I don’t think they did anything, but . . . I found them in bed together. They were kissing.”
Hisoka smirked. “So in other words, your father is doing fine.”
“Guess so.”
“That’s good.” Hisoka yawned. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. I’m so tired after everything . . . it was a long day. Okay, so it’s only five o’clock . . . shut up.”
“Call yourself a taxi,” Seimei told him.
“Yeah, good idea.”
~~~~
Kamui had called both Karen and Seiichirou and told them it was an emergency; he had even delayed (though not canceled) his date with Keiichi so the Seals could have a meeting. Yuzuriha made tea and put a plate of cookies on the table. Subaru calmly explained what had happened at Rainbow Bridge (leaving out Seishirou’s blatant death wish) and Hinoto’s involvement. He then went on to add what had happened when Hisoka came to visit.
Tsuzuki had stopped by to see Kamui and explain what Kakyou had said and what exactly had happened to Hisoka. There was really no doubt that Hinoto had done it. The only question remained what to do about it.
By the time Subaru was finished explaining everything, everyone had finished their tea. Arashi poured more in silence.
“So, uh,” Kamui said. “Anyone have any ideas?”
“My suggestion is a bit impossible,” Subaru said, knowing that no one there besides him was callous enough to suggest just killing her. “None of us have the powers necessary to just end her.”
As he’d expected, the others winced.
“I don’t suppose we can just start ignoring everything she says,” Sorata said, without much hope. “Because most of her directions are good. Obviously, or else we would’ve all caught on a long time ago. It’s probably only when she’s nearly positive of the outcome that she’ll risk the false instructions.”
“She was very clever,” Subaru said with a nod. “She picked a situation in which the death of either person would have the desired effect. She expected me to kill Seishirou, and no one would suspect her of complicity for that.” He decided not to point out that he had basically sat there and let himself nearly be killed.
Kamui, who knew that Seishirou’s death would have meant very bad things for Subaru, nodded slightly. Everyone else looked politely not curious.
“And it’d be bad to second guess her all the time, when she often tells the truth,” Karen added.
“But you know,” Yuzuriha chimed in, “if we’d thought about it that day that it happened, wouldn’t we have noticed? It was awfully convenient that everyone else was occupied somewhere.”
Everyone sat in silence for a minute.
“I’m not sure we can get a new Dreamgazer,” Arashi said. “They’re quite hard to come by.”
“Kotori was a Dreamgazer,” Kamui said, a touch of bitterness in his voice.
“I don’t suppose that’s why he . . .?” Seiichirou’s voice trailed off.
“I have no idea.” Kamui pushed his hair out of his face.
Subaru reflected that Fuuma might have killed Kotori because she probably would have seen right through his little act. Not that this was anything he could say to Kamui, of course.
“I think it would be more dangerous to let her keep advising us,” Karen said. “If we’re constantly second-guessing what she says and doubtful about her, it’ll only distract us.”
“So we just ignore her?” Sorata asked.
“We can’t really get rid of her,” Kamui said. “She could do to us what she did to Hisoka. They could go to Kakyou, because the Shinigami are neutral in this, but somehow I doubt he’d be eager to help one of us.”
“I can’t help,” Subaru spoke up. “Going Within and being locked into a dream are two very different things.”
They sat in glum silence.
“This sucks,” Kamui announced.
“Yes,” Subaru said. “Yes, it does.”
~~~~
Tsuzuki was not sure who to expect when he answered the knock at their hotel room door the next day, but it definitely wasn’t the Tree, who bounced into the room with a bigass grin on his face. “Heyya,” he said.
Tsuzuki blinked, then bowed respectfully. “Konnichi wa,” he said, backing up to let him into the room.
“I heard you’d gotten over yourself, so I figured I’d drop in,” the Tree explained, sort of. “You know, check up on you. Hey, Hisoka.”
Hisoka blinked at him. “Um . . . hi.” He was obviously wondering what the hell the Tree was doing in their hotel room.
Tsuzuki opened his mouth, then closed it, sputtering slightly. He gave up and shut the hotel room door.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” the Tree said, plopping onto Tsuzuki’s bed. “I want to hear all about it.”
Tsuzuki finally got a hold on himself, which was a good thing because Hisoka was still staring blankly at the Tree. “I remembered you being a lot nicer,” he said, sitting in one of the uncomfortable hotel room chairs.
“I’m being nice,” the Tree said defensively. “This is about as nice as I get.”
“You’re being nosy,” Tsuzuki said mildly. “Would you like some tea?”
“Can’t drink it. Illusory, you know.”
“Oh. Yes.” Tsuzuki eyed the Tree’s huge smile. “Why are you so pleased with yourself?” It made him quite nervous to see the Tree smiling like that. He fidgeted, like a child under their mother’s watchful eye after having stolen a cookie.
“Hey, I’m always pleased when I find out that one of my hunches was right,” the Tree said casually.
“And which hunch was that?” Tsuzuki said, looking at Hisoka’s confused expression and wondering how he would ever explain all this.
“The hunch that if I didn’t eat you as a midafternoon snack, eventually you’d get it together and be happy,” the Tree clarified. “Took you long enough, but I guess you had to wait for Hisoka here.” He smiled again. It made Tsuzuki want to duck.
“I would have been a bit big for a snack, wouldn’t I?” he asked.
“Semantics,” the Tree said dismissively. “The point is that you were convinced you’d never be happy and I told you that you were wrong. Ha, ha. I win.”
“Yes, you were right,” Tsuzuki said, getting up to get some tea for himself, despite the Tree’s refusal. He poured two mugs and handed one to Hisoka. “Will you stop gloating now?”
“No,” the Tree said. “I make a living gloating. Just ask Seishirou. Anyway, I said it before and I’ll say it again: the people who suffer most are the ones who deserve the most happiness.”
Tsuzuki paused with his mug halfway to his mouth. “I don’t recall you ever having said that.”
“Well, that’s hardly my fault.”
“It would have been over seventy years ago,” Tsuzuki said, shifting uncomfortably. He was really wishing that the Tree would go away. He had explained to Hisoka that he had ‘met’ the Tree on his way out, but he didn’t really want to go into the specifics of it.
“I know that.” The Tree rolled its eyes. “Calm down. What are you so tense about?”
“It was an unpleasant time in my life,” Tsuzuki said, a bit stiffly, “and Hisoka doesn’t know about that particular chapter yet. I’m a bit nervous.”
“Ah, he understands.” The Tree waved vaguely at Hisoka. “You can explain it after I’m gone. I won’t stay. I just wanted to see you two happy together.”
“Very, thank you,” Tsuzuki said. “And I appreciate the concern. I was hardly the best of company at our first meeting.”
“Well, not many of the people I meet are,” the Tree admitted.
“It must be rare for you to meet them again,” Tsuzuki mused.
“It happens on occasion,” the Tree replied. “You’re the first one to become a Shinigami, though, that’s for damn sure.”
“Also your doing,” Tsuzuki pointed out.
“Mine?” the Tree asked innocently. “I don’t recall suggesting anything of the sort.”
“Well, you suggested I stay on this side of things, and there are few ways to do that,” Tsuzuki said.
“True. I’m enjoying the irony. You assigned to this case.”
Tsuzuki laughed slightly. “In the beginning I thought it was someone’s cruel idea of a joke.”
“Hell, it could be. But . . .” the Tree paused thoughtfully. “You’re going to try to save Fuuma, aren’t you?”
Tsuzuki nodded, suddenly serious. “Yes. There’s no reason this tragedy has to play out again. Not if I can stop it.”
“Then I don’t think it’s someone’s idea of a cruel joke,” the Tree said. “I think it’s someone’s idea of giving someone else a second chance.”
“Karmic therapy?” Tsuzuki asked dryly.
“Yeah, or something like that,” the Tree agreed. “The universe does have ways of righting itself when it gets off kilter, you know.”
At this point, Hisoka finally gave up. “. . . um?” he asked. “What are you two talking about?”
The Tree bounced out of its chair. “Well, I’ll be off then,” it said brightly. “Nice seeing you again, Tsuzuki. Good luck!”
“I hope you get root rot and termites,” Tsuzuki replied, just as brightly.
“I’ve been cursed with worse things yet, but none have come to pass,” the Tree said, and disappeared into thin air. Hisoka’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
Tsuzuki sagged into his chair. “He really was nicer the first time I met him,” he mumbled. Never mind that his first meeting with the Tree had been just after his own death, and he had been traumatized almost past the point of speech. He had no idea how long his soul had spent in the Tree’s surprisingly tender care, nursing him back to some semblance of spiritual health. Or at least spiritual coping.
The Tree had never explained why it had done so. As far as Tsuzuki knew, it had never done it for any of its other victims, though it always sent the soul on intact, despite popular belief. All it fed on was their psychic energy. Sometimes he even left that alone; the way he had for Tsuzuki. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to become a Shinigami; he would have lost all his magic.
For some inexplicable reason, the Tree had just taken a liking to him, that was all that Tsuzuki could figure. If it had its reasons, he doubted he would ever know them.
Hisoka was considering everything that he’d learned thus far about the Tree and Tsuzuki. Finally, he asked, “If you were fed to the Tree, how did you become a Shinigami?”
It was hardly the worst question he could have asked. Tsuzuki breathed a sigh of relief. “He chose not to feed off my power,” he explained. “He just let me go, and after talking to me for a while, he convinced me to not move on. He said that if I waited long enough, I would be happy.”
“Why didn’t he feed off your power?” Hisoka asked curiously. “I’d think with someone as powerful as you . . .”
“I’m not really sure,” Tsuzuki said. “I doubt I’ll ever be sure.”
“What was he talking about . . . when he mentioned the irony?” Hisoka asked, taking a deep breath.
Tsuzuki’s smile faded. “That we . . . that I . . . was assigned to this case.” He knew more was required than that, but decided to wait and see what Hisoka asked first. Of course, given their previous discussions, he wasn’t sure that Hisoka would ask anything. He got up and paced for a minute, then sat on the end of his bed.
Hisoka padded over and sat next to him, though not close enough to touch, in case Tsuzuki wanted or needed a hug. “I got that much. But why is it ironic?”
“Maybe I’m drawn to it. I don’t know.” Tsuzuki shrugged. “But it’s ironic because I was once one of the key players. One of the unfortunate souls to help determine the fate of mankind.”
Hisoka considered this. Then his jaw dropped. “Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “Are you saying that all this has happened before?”
Tsuzuki just nodded.
“Then . . .” The pieces were starting to fall into place, and Hisoka realized why Tsuzuki had been so tense ever since the beginning of this mission. He had known from the start that it was doomed to end in tragedy, no matter what they did. There was no way they could save Fuuma . . . was there? “Then you were . . . the . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, in case he was wrong.
“The Kamui,” Tsuzuki finished for him. “And I did my duty. And afterwards I wanted no more than to die and have done with it.”
Hisoka looked away. “It was Takeshi?”
“My twin star, you mean?”
Hisoka nodded.
“Aa. I loved him.” Tears started to run down Tsuzuki’s cheeks. “And until I had to choose, he loved me too. We didn’t know. How could we have known?”
“God, Tsuzuki . . .” Hisoka didn’t know what to say, so he pulled Tsuzuki into a tight hug. “I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry.”
Tsuzuki allowed himself to be hugged gratefully. “Muraki’s right,” he said softly. “No one normal has these eyes. But that was the only clue we had. And the powers . . . but that just made people fear me. I didn’t want it. I would have given anything to be normal.”
Hisoka was still hugging him, running gentle fingers through his hair. “Can you . . . can you tell me what happened?” he asked hesitantly. “It’s okay if you can’t, but sometimes it really does help to talk about it.” No wonder he had continued to have nightmares for damn near a century, Hisoka realized. He probably would have too.
“I had to make a choice, so obviously I chose to save everyone,” Tsuzuki said, his voice slightly muffled in Hisoka’s shoulder. “Most of all him. I didn’t know he would go the other way.” He took a few deep breaths. He had never, in his entire life and afterlife, told anyone about any of this. All the Seals had died by the Final Day. He had been the only one left. “And then he . . . he changed. He didn’t love me. He was evil. Or maybe he just gave me a convenient illusion like Fuuma is giving Kamui. I’ll never know.”
His voice choked slightly. “I betrayed the only person to ever love me in a world that hated me. If I had known how it would work, I think I would have chosen the other way, and just let him win. And then it was all over. I had nothing. I just wanted to be nothing. I wanted it to end so badly. I tried and tried. I didn’t need to eat or sleep. I don’t know why. I don’t even know how long it was. And no matter what I tried, I just . . . lived.” He shrugged slightly, shifting in Hisoka’s arms. “I guess after a while my name appeared in the Kiseki. But I never showed. To this day I don’t know why the Shinigami noticed, but they did, and had the Sakurazukamori at the time do me the favor.
“He said . . . the Tree said, that is . . . that my soul had gotten trapped. Trapped because I was just in that much pain. That was why I didn’t need to eat. Why I couldn’t die. The Sakurazukamori undid the strings that tied me to this life. In the end, I’m not sure how the Tree convinced me to hang on, but it did.”
He lapsed into silence, letting Hisoka hold him. Hisoka just sat there, slightly stunned, tears running slowly down his cheeks. He had no idea what to say, or if there was anything he could say that would help. “I’m so glad it did,” he finally managed, his voice choked. “Because if it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have you now . . . I’m sorry, I’m sorry about all this . . .” he hugged him tighter, burying his face in Tsuzuki’s hair.
“I suppose the point was that good people like you got to live,” Tsuzuki said thoughtfully. “But for a while it was hard to see that in the face of everything else.”
“Do you regret it?” Hisoka asked quietly.
“Saving everyone, no.” He shrugged again. “But if I had the chance to choose again, I might have chosen Fuuma’s path. I mean, I wouldn’t give you up for anything, but . . . maybe I would have done it differently.”
“Oh.” Hisoka said nothing else. He was trying to scrape his self-esteem off the bottom of his shoes. Hearing that from Tsuzuki really wasn’t what he had needed.
“But you know, maybe he didn’t love me,” Tsuzuki said thoughtfully. “Or not enough.” He shook his head slightly. “I can always keep guessing about how it might have been different, but Fuuma said something really important.”
“What was that?”
“He said that we had to be grateful to be here or it wasn’t worth it.” Tsuzuki turned to face Hisoka, brushing his hair out of his face. “Back then, he made life bearable. But you . . . you make me grateful to be here.”
Hisoka nearly melted. He reached out and wiped the last few tears off Tsuzuki’s cheeks. “I’m glad.” He kissed Tsuzuki’s forehead. “I’m so glad.” Tsuzuki was smiling. Really, genuinely smiling.
“Maybe I . . . could make you happy?” Hisoka suggested hesitantly. “Someday?”
“Yeah, I really think you can,” Tsuzuki said, hugging him. “And maybe not that far away. I’m sorry I’m such a moper.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” Hisoka kissed his forehead again. “I love you just the way you are.”
“I love you too,” Tsuzuki murmured.
“You know . . . I think we can save Fuuma,” Hisoka mused. Surely they wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t some way to prevent this tragedy. “I think we can make things right.”
Tsuzuki perked up slightly. “I hope so. He has so much to live for.”
Hisoka nodded. “So . . .” He was still trying to get everything clear in his head. A timeline would help, if nothing else. “Why did it happen before? Or again, I suppose. Do you know?”
“I think it’s just the universe’s way of keeping the balance between humans and the earth,” Tsuzuki said. “A way of finding out if there’s something worth saving each time. Tatsumi would probably know.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Hisoka said.
“Seems terribly unfair, though,” Tsuzuki said, thinking of Takeshi, thinking of Fuuma and Kakyou. What right did Fate have to destine someone to die? What kind of question was ‘is the world saving enough for some poor kid to kill his most cherished person in order to save it?’
“Well. It is.”
“Though maybe it’s less unfair this time,” Tsuzuki said thoughtfully. “If Fuuma can make it through, he has someone else to love. Even though he had to give up Kamui. And Kamui has Keiichi now.” He paused. “I was convinced, in some irrational way, that this was all proof that I didn’t deserve anyone.”
“I think the Tree was right,” Hisoka said softly. “The people who suffer the most are the ones who deserve happiness the most.”
“They’re also usually the ones convinced they don’t deserve it,” Tsuzuki pointed out.
“I guess that makes us perfect for each other, ne?” Hisoka asked with a smile.
Tsuzuki nodded, and snuggled into his arms. “Makes me wonder about Kakyou, though,” he said. “He seems so happy with Fuuma.”
“I don’t know, but I don’t think his parents treated him very well,” Hisoka said. “He was really angry at Hinoto for locking me into that dream.”
“She didn’t used to be like that,” Tsuzuki said quietly.
Hisoka blinked at him. “You knew her?”
Tsuzuki nodded. “She was a powerful Dreamgazer even then. Though I never got along with her very well.”
“Well, I can’t imagine anyone liking her,” Hisoka said dryly. “But that’s just me.”
“She was very fond of issuing orders and she, without fail, knew best,” Tsuzuki said. “But she wasn’t evil then. She wasn’t . . . cruel.”
“Maybe you should talk to her,” Hisoka suggested. “There must be some explanation.”
“I hope so,” Tsuzuki said quietly. “I don’t want to sit back and watch all this happen again.”