Chapter One
I have been a Shinigami for three years at this point. It seems like I’ve been caught in a time warp. Half the days seemed to drag on unending, but now that I look back, I can’t help but think ‘three years? It’s really been three years?’ It feels like yesterday that I was just meeting Tsuzuki for the first time, first wondering why there was a floating chicken (two of them, no less) in our ranks, first learning that there were people who would not condemn me for what and who I was.
Three years isn’t that long, not really, not when you’ve got eternity or close to it.
I told Akimiya once that dying was the best thing that ever happened to me, and that sounds strange, but it’s true. My life was certainly nothing to be thankful for, but my afterlife, though it’s had its definite agonizing moments, has been so wonderful at times that I almost couldn’t believe it.
Tsuzuki alone would be worth dying for. Going through all the fires of hell for.
I consider myself very lucky, which seems odd to me. The first thirteen years of my life were spent in the cold, in the dark, and utterly alone. The three years after that were worse. But now I honestly believe I’m one of the luckiest people in existence. Tsuzuki and I have the kind of love that most people only dream about, read about, or write about. Love unending, eternal devotion.
But now I’m getting sappy. Still, it’s hard not to be sappy when you’re lying in bed with your one true love, yadda yadda yadda. Even harder when you’re burrowed underneath the blankets in perfect warmth and contentment.
We’re never apart anymore. Not really.
Soon after we first met, Tsuzuki learned about my unfortunate habit of ‘synching’ with people. I’m really not sure that’s the right word for it, but I can’t come up with anything else, so it’ll have to do. When he touched me, I could feel his anger, his unhappiness, his pain. It hurt him that I wouldn’t accept him as a partner. Of course, he had a right to be angry at me; I was trying to get into the prohibited library.
But now, whenever he touches me, I feel love, happiness, acceptance. And they aren’t only my own feelings. Physical contact only strengthens the bond between us. Before the blood bind, I could reach out to him with my empathy. Now I don’t need to anymore. He’s always there, a presence in the back of my mind, and he tells me it’s the same for him. I know if something upsets him, or amuses him, or bores him. We can’t share thoughts, but sometimes I think sharing emotions is better.
And of course (I’ve gotten a lot less embarrassed about stuff like this), it certainly adds an interesting dimension . . . er . . . maybe I’m not less embarrassed. But if physical touch increases the sensation of oneness, I’ll let your imagination figure out what it does to the bedroom activities.
It’s amazing . . . just feeling how much he loves me. And knowing that he can feel how much I love him. We’re truly bound now, deeper than the blood bind, deeper than the marriage vows.
One of my favorite things to do these days is sleep in. Lying in bed curled up with him, his skin pressed against mine, his contentment and love mingling with mine . . . it’s almost better than sex. Almost.
So now, lying in bed, I’m feeling his peace and happiness, but there’s a lingering sense of mischief in him. Uh oh. I don’t know what he’s got planned for me, but no good can come of this. We got a week off for our ‘honeymoon’, as Akimiya insisted on calling it, despite the fact that we’ve been living together for almost a year now, and this is the last day. But whatever he’s planning is apparently going to wait, because neither of us feels the need to get up any time soon.
“It’s almost noon, you know,” he says, at length, right into my ear. That’s enough to send a shiver up my spine. So much for getting out of bed.
“Mm hmm,” I reply, snuggling closer.
“Do you want to spend our entire last day of vacation in bed?” he asks innocently.
I roll over so we’re facing, and I can tell there’s a gleam in my eye. Damn it, whatever happened to the time when I was stoic? Ah, well, Tsuzuki tore down the walls that surrounded me, and there’s never been a need to put them back up. “Would you consider it time wasted?”
“Nnnnnno,” he says, even more innocence radiating from him, “but I might have had plans.”
“Yeah, I can feel that,” I say dryly, running my hand through his hair. I love the way it feels between my fingers, but then again, I love everything about him. Yech, listen to me. I’m hopeless. It just took me so long to accept that someone cared for me – to believe that I was worth that care – that I have trouble not being overwhelmed by it.
He snickers. “Mou, Hisoka . . . you don’t trust me?”
“Not when you’ve got that look in your eyes, I don’t.”
He bounces out of bed. As usual, the loss of the contact hits me hard. After spending a night wrapped in his embrace, the sudden absence of that warmth and emotion usually knocks me for a loop. I’m used to it by now, but it always takes me a second to adjust. Right, must not stare at Tsuzuki getting dressed. Right. “C’mon!”
I reluctantly climb out of the warm nest of blankets and search for my clothes. I can’t find them, and I remember with a sudden blush that we weren’t in the bedroom when I took them off. Whoops. I get out some from the closet and pull them on. Then Tsuzuki is tugging on my arm.
There’s a cake in the center of the table, which might not necessarily be odd, given Tsuzuki’s eating habits, but the candles in the center of it are already burning. And they haven’t been for long. I blink at it. “Happy birthday!” Tsuzuki proclaims gleefully.
“It’s not my birthday,” I reply automatically. “And how did you get those lit?”
He looks incredibly pleased with himself. “Magic,” he says, with a serious nod. “And it is so too your birthday. Or at least the anniversary of your becoming a Shinigami.”
I give him a glance. “So it’s my death-day.”
“Uhm . . . if you want to be morbid, yes,” he says, his tone teasing.
“Seriously, how did you get the candles lit?”
“He didn’t,” a new voice says, and I jump about fifty feet in the air. No wonder Tsuzuki chose to get dressed and wait for me to get dressed before leaving the bedroom. Tatsumi is standing in the other room, just as immaculate as ever. And . . . sheesh, so is Akimiya, Rika, and Watari.
“How the hell did you all get in here without me noticing?” I demand, but I already know the answer. My empathy has flickered out. Akimiya, that conniving little punk, hasn’t taken his potion this morning. While I was still in the bedroom, he was far enough away that it didn’t affect me, but I wouldn’t have been able to feel him or the people near him.
Akimiya just smirks, knowing that I know the answer. “C’mon, you didn’t think we’d let you sleep away your birthday, did you?”
“It’s not my birthday,” I repeat, and give Tsuzuki a slight glare. “Did you plan this?”
“Well, someone had to,” Tsuzuki says, sticking his tongue out at me.
Not only is there cake, there’s food. I recognize Rika’s excellent cooking as soon as Tsuzuki piles a plate with food and shoves it at me. Ah well, it’s hard to be angry when I know they’ve just done it for me. And why not celebrate the date of my death as my birthday? Though it might be more appropriate to call it my re-birthday. But I have a feeling that Tsuzuki would just give me a funny look if I said that.
And then it happens again, a sudden wash of dizziness that knocks me clear off my feet. I grab a chair as I fall and wind up sliding to the ground. For a brief moment, the world flickers out. Then I feel myself cradled in Tsuzuki’s arms, his concern flooding through me. “Hisoka?”
“I’m okay . . .” But I’m not. I’m dizzy and the world feels very far away. I look up just in time to see a glance pass between Watari and Tatsumi. A glance of worry? Or understanding? I manage to get to my feet with Tsuzuki’s help, and look at them. “What’s wrong with me?” I ask. “You know, I know you do, I can feel it – ” But I can’t, because I have no empathy. The world fades again and I sag back into Tsuzuki’s arms. He helps me into a chair.
Tatsumi walks over to me. “What’s wrong?”
“Dizzy,” I manage. “World’s fuzzy.” Akimiya and Rika look bewildered.
Tatsumi nods, as if expecting this. “It happens occasionally to Shinigami. It’s kind of like a virus. Maybe you should take a few more days off?”
He’s lying, I know damn well he’s lying, and he knows it too. I’ve never seen anyone have this problem in the entire three years I’ve been here. But with my empathy out because of Akimiya, I can’t say anything. “Aa . . .”
“Dizzy?” Tsuzuki is frowning slightly, and I look back at Tatsumi just in time to see him deliver a warning look. Tsuzuki’s eyes widen, and he momentarily looks stricken, then his face returns to normal. “Oh,” he says, then repeats softly, “Oh.”
“What?” I ask. Now I’m panicking.
“Nothing!” he says quickly, and that forced cheer I got so used to in my first two years of partnership with him is back. “Let’s have cake, ne?” He sprouts ears and tail and goes back to the table. Tatsumi follows him.
“What the hell was that all about?” Akimiya murmurs. He looks just as confused as I feel, and I’m willing to bet he doesn’t know what’s going on.
“I don’t know,” I reply quietly. “I’ll ask Tsuzuki about it tonight, once everyone else is gone. Virus my ass.” But it bothers me. Tatsumi never lies, not without reason. There’s something very wrong here, and I don’t know what it is.
~~~~
“So what was that all about earlier?” I ask Tsuzuki, once everyone else has gone. It seems to me that Watari and Tatsumi were in a bit too much of a hurry to leave, but Akimiya lingered, wanting to be sure I was all right. I all but had to shove him and Rika out the door before I could have any privacy.
“All what?” Tsuzuki asks, finishing off the last of the cake. He takes a forkful of frosting and aims it at my mouth.
I open my lips obediently and nearly choke on the sweetness. I’ve never been fond of sweets as a general rule, though I’ve sort of had to adapt to them, living with Tsuzuki and all. “Tatsumi was lying to me.”
He blinks at me with innocent purple eyes. “Tatsumi doesn’t lie to people.”
“Not generally, no.” But he did now. The words hang in the air, unspoken. Like a wall between us. I hate it, but I force myself to speak the words. “And you know what the truth about this is, but you’re not telling me.”
For a minute I expect him to protest, to deny it. But after a second, he just hangs his head slightly. I think that may be worse. “I can’t,” he says softly. “I can’t tell you yet, and neither can Tatsumi.”
“Tsuzuki, what’s wrong?” I know I shouldn’t press him, but I can’t help it. This is important, I know, but the really important thing is that it’s something that separates us. I don’t like not being able to touch him, afraid of what emotions might flood in. Even both our shields can’t keep all of them out anymore. “Please tell me. Please trust me.”
“It’s not about trust,” he says, staring steadfastly at the floor.
“Then what is it about?”
He looks up at me now, and there’s an agony of indecision in his eyes. “Please,” he says. “Please don’t look at me like that. I would tell you if I could. I will tell you, as soon as I can.” He reaches out and one hand caresses my cheek. Pain, fear, longing. “Please don’t turn away from me for this. It isn’t my choice.”
“Idiot,” I say softly, and lean forward to kiss his forehead. “I’ll never turn away from you.”
He pulls me into a hug. His relief and acceptance of this make me feel slightly better. But underneath it there’s a tinge of something ugly. He’s frightened. Not because I might turn away. He’s not afraid of me – he’s afraid for me. “You’re scared,” I state, the air from my words ruffling his hair, his head cradled against my chest.
“Yes,” he says softly.
“Why? Or can you not tell me that either?”
His arms wrap around my waist, comforting, reassuring. “Not quite yet,” he replies. Then he sits up. “It’s going to be okay,” he says, and there’s such rock solid certainty in his eyes that I don’t question anymore. Tsuzuki would never lie to me, and in any case, I would know if he was. He’s positive that I’m going to be all right, so I want to be positive too. This doesn’t mean I am, but I’ve always been more cynical than him. He has far more faith in me than I have in myself, but I suppose the same can be said the other way around.
“Okay,” I say, knowing that he’s waiting for a reply. A very sweet smile curves his lips, and then he leans forward to kiss me. He’s no longer afraid.
I wish I could say the same for myself.
~~~~
I ignore Tatsumi’s friendly advice to take a couple more days off, mostly because without working I get bored too easily. Especially when Tsuzuki is working. He’s not on constant field duty yet; he bops around from job to job. Tatsumi only sends him out on cases that either need his expertise, or ones that he’s sure Tsuzuki can handle. Usually Tsuzuki ends out with me and Akimiya, but sometimes he goes with Watari or the Gushoshin. He’s the catch-all Shinigami; he does whatever is needed most.
Besides, Tatsumi’s advice was all bullshit anyway. So I’ll go into work. I’m still feeling slightly dazed, but the dizziness is gone for the most part. It’s hard to focus. I hope we don’t have any missions; I don’t think I could handle anything but paperwork.
Tsuzuki and I had a restless night. His nightmares are infrequent now; he usually sleeps through the night without any, and even when he has them, he can wake himself up and it rarely disturbs me. But I was tossing and turning all night, and I know that must have made it hard to sleep for him.
It was right around three o’clock when I first realize what’s really bothering me about this. The dizziness, the lack of ability to focus . . . it’s the same as the beginning of Muraki’s curse. I was vaguely sick for two and a half years, before I got very sick, before I died. But I know that’s not what this is, or else the curse marks would be reacting. They’re not. This isn’t Muraki, whatever it is, or else Tatsumi and Tsuzuki wouldn’t know about it. And if they did, I’m sure they would have told me.
No staff meeting. Good, that means no new cases. I’ll have Akimiya brief me on what I missed while I was on vacation. Get a cup of coffee and a donut. Something feels vaguely wrong, but I don’t really think about it (being half-awake) until I go into the office. “Did you forget to take your potion?” I ask, yawning.
Akimiya blinks at me. “No. Why do you ask?”
I frown at him. “Are you sure? My empathy is all wobbly. I thought maybe you didn’t know that I was going to be back today.”
“Of course I knew you were going to be back today,” he says, looking bewildered. “I mean, that’s why we had your party yesterday, because it was the last day of vacation. I distinctly remember taking it. I had to dump it in my orange juice because it tastes so vile.”
I’m reduced to standing around like an idiot, staring at him. “You’re really sure?”
“I really am. Are you okay?”
“I’m still feeling a little dizzy, but other than that I’m okay. Unless you count the fact that I have no empathy.”
“So go see Watari or Tatsumi.”
“Why, so I can have them tell me it’s all part of a routine virus?” I ask, my voice suddenly bitter. Color me cynical.
He sighs slightly. “Do you know what’s going on?” he finally asks, after a long pause. “Did you ask Tsuzuki?”
“I asked. He said he can’t tell me yet, and to please not be upset.” I slump into my chair. I’m very good at slumping. It’s an acquired skill.
“Oh,” Akimiya finally says.
“So you see why I don’t want to go tell Tatsumi or Watari.”
“Yes, I see. Let’s just hope we don’t get any assignments while you’re like this.”
I’m sure.
~~~~
So, as usual, the gods are laughing at me. You know, if I believe in any real gods, which I don’t, they’d be getting a real kick out of this. Twenty minutes after Akimiya says that, of course Tatsumi walks into the office and hands us an assignment. I hate him.
“I don’t think we can go,” Akimiya says. “Hisoka still isn’t feeling very well from that . . . virus.” There’s enough of a pause in Akimiya’s sentence that Tatsumi knows damn well that he didn’t believe the pretty little story.
Tatsumi looks at me, and I nod slightly. “My empathy is on the fritz,” I admit. “I’m still a little dizzy and just generally feel like crap. I’m not sure going out on a mission is a good idea. Maybe Tsuzuki could go with Akimiya?” I don’t like volunteering Tsuzuki for missions, but I’m not sure I see any other alternative here.
But Tatsumi is shaking his head. “He has a project with the Gushoshin,” he replies. “He’ll be busy.”
“You can’t ask him to go like this,” Akimiya protests, which makes me feel like an invalid or something.
“I’ll be fine,” I snap. “Just give me the file.”
Tatsumi gives me a slightly sympathetic look. I think there might be more behind it than that, but if so, I don’t know what. “You won’t have to leave until tomorrow. Maybe you’ll be feeling better by then.”
“I don’t know,” I reply coolly. “Maybe you can tell me how long this ‘virus’ usually lasts?”
Tatsumi sighs slightly. “It should be gone within a week,” he says quietly, and I know he’s telling the truth. Now if I only knew what caused it and how to get rid of it. And, you know, all the billion other things that no one is telling me.
~~~~
Tsuzuki is moping. Damn it, I hate it when Tsuzuki mopes. It gives me flashbacks to the earliest stages of our relationship. You know, that part when we were both being idiots and wouldn’t talk to each other. That’s over and done with now, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. But Tsuzuki just sits there at the kitchen table, staring into his mug of tea, moping.
This calls for strategically applied chocolate.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t even look up as I put a plate of cookies down on the table. Okay, time to go to stage two, which is strategically applied me.
It does get his attention as I settle onto his lap and pull him in for a kiss. Then again, if it hadn’t, I would’ve been quite insulted. He’s a bit distracted, melancholy, upset. The emotions filter in through the touch. I can’t quite read what he’s thinking. He’s not afraid, not really, but there’s an edge of concern that I can feel.
Abruptly, he pulls away. And stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
“You were trying to read my mind.” His voice is angry, but more upset. “You were using that to try to find out what’s going on.”
I don’t whether or not I can protest. Or whether or not I should. The ethics of empathy have always been very tricky. “I wasn’t kissing you just to find out how you felt,” I say slowly. “That was just an added side benefit.”
He continues to stare at me. “That wasn’t fair,” he says in a small voice.
I sigh explosively. “Tsuzuki, you know damn well that all I can get from you is how you feel, and that was all I wanted. You were moping and I wanted to make sure you were okay. And don’t talk to me about fair, because it goes two ways. You know just as well how I feel as I know how you feel.”
He looks at the floor. “You’re angry with me,” he says softly.
“I’m angry at whoever is planning this stupid conspiracy to get me killed!” I didn’t mean to say that, and especially didn’t mean to yell it like that. Sometimes I wish I had a time machine. Or at the very least, a rewind-erase button.
“You think I’m in on this?” Now he sounds wounded.
But I can’t let it go. I meet his eyes, unflinching. “Are you?”
He tries to meet my gaze, but his eyes slide to the right as if there’s something very interesting there. “It’s not what you think,” he mumbles. “No one’s trying to get you killed.”
“Then what are they trying to do? Tsuzuki, I can’t go out on a mission like this. I’m dizzy and I’m tired and my empathy is going spastic. It’s not even just dying, it’s gone haywire. The only thing that hasn’t been affected yet is my link with you. But they’re making me go anyway, and why? Because you’re doing some stupid research program with the Gushoshin? It wouldn’t kill them to lose you for a few days.”
“You’re scaring me,” Tsuzuki whispers. His voice is shaking.
“Good,” I snap. “Because I’m scared too.”
Tsuzuki looks down. Looks at the plate of cookies. Then he slowly walks out of the room, and suddenly I feel awful. There’s nothing quite like getting in a fight with the one person you care about most to make you feel like total crap. I watch him go into the living room and sit down on the couch.
“Tsuzuki, I didn’t mean that,” I say, but he knows that I’m lying. An idiot would know I’m lying. He doesn’t reply, and I’m not surprised. “I am scared, but . . . it’s not your fault. I know it isn’t your fault.”
“And if it was?” He looks up at me with fear in his huge purple eyes. “What then?”
“Then I’d want to know why.” My voice is shaking now. “Why all this is happening.” I settle on the couch next to him, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. My fists clench uselessly in my lap. “I’m scared, Tsuzuki. You know I’ll never admit that to anyone but you, but I am. Something’s really wrong.”
His hand rests tentatively on the back of my neck, and when he can feel that I’m not angry anymore, he gently smoothes my hair. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs, and again there’s that certainty in his voice. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” His hand tightens convulsively in my hair. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He’s pulling, and it hurts.
His hand loosens. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice mortified. “I didn’t mean to – ”
I just look at him wearily. It strikes me as rather ironic that he hurt me while promising not to let anyone else. I suppose he’s the only one who’s really capable of hurting me, in the end. “I know,” I say, and rest my head on his shoulder, allowing him to hold me. “Believe me, I know.”
His concern bleeds into me, but it’s tempered now by love and patience. He really won’t let anyone hurt me, and I know it. He’s still afraid, but it’s no longer of what’s going to happen to me.
It’s of what’s going to happen to us.
~~~~
Chapter Two
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