Abandoned WIPs
Feb. 4th, 2005 02:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brigdhHey, apparently it's WIP Amnesty weekend! So I'll post some things I don't think I'll ever finish.
I signed up for the Free Verse challenge back... whenever it was. Last spring, I think. The challenge was that you'd get a bit of poetry and, without knowing where it came from or the rest of the poem, you had to write a fic from it. I never did finish the story, but here's the little bit I wrote, plus my prompt:
"Not even I remember the first time, the hitch
In the throat and the moan perhaps, I've seen it
So much, the thrashing in the silk, the fluids,
I compass the course, the distance of spasms."
There were signs. Looking back, I don't understand how I couldn't have known. How I could have woken up, my clothes bloody and torn and only half-on, and not wondered. It wasn't that I couldn't remember. It was that I couldn't even try. If I thought about it, if I tried to recall where I'd spent that night, my mind just... slipped away from it. Turned aside at the edges of memory, distracted by something else, until I forgot that there was anything missing.
It was the woman. She was there- and then she wasn't. A rising crescendo of fear and panic and terror, like a scream that on one could hear, and then the pain, so much pain, I'd never felt pain like that, I hadn't known anyone could feel pain like that, and then it stopped. And she was gone. Nothing. Silence. All those emotions just shut off, like a TV or a radio, but not a person, and I was still standing there, trying vaguely to follow her away, straining for a last glimpse of her, not quite understanding yet what had happened and so reaching out for the soul that should have, should have been there, when in the quiet left by her death I felt the slow twining of his thoughts, and knew that I should have run.
There are moments, sometimes, when I can't bear to be touched, when I can't stand to have another human that close, when even the contact of fingertips is too much. How could I? How could I want-
All that time I thought I was sick. How the hell could I have forgotten? Four years, nearly four years, and I never knew. Four fucking years with that secret inside me, just waiting for him to bring it out, slumbering, unwanted, a cancer waiting to spread. And I never suspected. I had to overhear it to realize I'd been murdered.
***
This next one is the very first fic I started writing for YnM. Wow, does it show. I feel compelled to remind you that none of these have been edited or looked over in any way. This one doesn't even have a name, beyond "Christmas Plot".
The day was windy and overcast. The clouds were so thick and uniform that you couldn't pick one out from the others. The whole sky seemed to be a single sheet of brilliant, cold white. There was no hint of blue anywhere, the only difference in color at all being a slight darkening to gray near the horizon. The sun was hopelessly hidden somewhere behind those layers, its light so diffused that to look anywhere at the sky was to be almost blinded. The snow on the ground was nearly as thick and white as the sky above it, and the people and buildings looked suspended between the two, like drawings on clean paper.
Hisoka shivered and pulled his jacket closer around him. It didn't snow often in Meifu, but it happened from time to time, to please the people who'd enjoyed winter. Hisoka wasn't one of them.
It was December 24, and the snow in Nagasaki was as thick as here above. For the last week, women had been disappearing from the city, only to show up days later, dead and laid out carefully in the snow. Some had had their throats slashed, the blood drained, some had had their hair cut, some were missing their hearts. Each one had held a single rose in a hand, blood-red.
Muraki was a fucking bastard when he thought he was being funny.
Hisoka had seen the crime photos, he'd studied the reports. He had not seen anything in person. Tatsumi had declared himself sick of the doctor's mind games. As soon as the first woman had been found- both her eyes gouged out and replaced with amethysts- he'd confined both Hisoka and Tsuzuki to Meifu. They'd only just begun to return to field work at the time, a few tentative cases meant to adjust them both back to life.
The boredom was driving Hisoka mad. Any paperwork left over from before Kyoto had long since been finished. Tsuzuki's desk was as clean as Hisoka had ever seen it. Of course, he'd been the one who'd cleaned, one day when he was desperate for things to do. Neither of them had anywhere else to go, so they'd both continued to show up at work, day after day, driving their friends insane.
Even Tsuzuki wasn't a comfort. Since Kyoto, since the long days afterwards, they seemed to have found a balance, but it was so delicate. Neither of them had spoken of what they'd promised there, in the middle of black flames and snake coils. Hisoka thought he could almost hear their words hovering, just under the edge of hearing, in every tenuous, surface conversation they'd had since then. He could barely stand to be alone with Tsuzuki now, hovering between the partners they'd once been and what he had expected they'd become. Hisoka almost wished he could call his words that night back. He'd pledged himself to Tsuzuki, promised to follow him even beyond death.
And now what? Now they danced around each other, afraid to say anything meaningful. And being trapped together here for the last week had not helped. Tension was rising, and all the Shinigami could feel it. Even Wakaba had snapped at him yesterday, though she'd apologized after. Watari's experiments seemed to be exploding more violently than usual, and the photos of murdered women hanging around the Guoshoshin as they researched helped no one's nerves. Sometimes Hisoka felt like he could scream.
Or someone could do it for him…
Hisoka paused in the doorway of the Diet Building, stomping snow off of his boots. There was a brief silence following what had sounding like Tsuzuki shouting, and then the everyday murmur of the office rose again. A wave of panic rose in him, and he tried to quash it. Everything was fine. He could feel the calm of the workers around him. But he couldn't help but remember other times he‘d heard Tsuzuki shouting- times when, more than likely, he would show up too late, only to see Shiki swarming the building and destroying whatever stood in their way.
And one time to even see them destroying Tsuzuki himself.
Hisoka hurried through the hallways, forgotten coat still slung around his shoulder, snow slowly melting into his shoes in the warmth of the building. The sight that greeted him when he finally reached the office was enough to make him freeze in the doorway again. Tsuzuki and Tatsumi were fighting.
"This makes eight, Tatsumi," Tsuzuki was saying, emphasizing his words by slapping a file folder against a desk. "Eight! And we're doing nothing!"
"Yes," Tatsumi said calmy, adjusting his glasses with one hand. His voice was perfectly cool, despite the fact that Tsuzuki was all but throwing a fit mere inches away. "We do nothing. The entire case is in the hands of another district."
"What district? Let me just go and talk to them, let me help them look-"
"No. You are to have nothing to do with Muraki."
"They'll never catch him! He could hide forever. You know how clever he is."
"Exactly. That is why you must stay away. He's trying to draw you out, Tsuzuki, and what will we do if he gets you again?"
Tsuzuki looked away, his mouth twisting in defeat as he tried to think of an answer. When he spoke again, all the anger was gone from his voice. "Please, Tatsumi. I can't just stay here and watch, I can't do nothing while he keeps on killing people from my city. I should have been there to protect them..."
"This is not your fault, and do not try to convince me that it is. What good-"
"You're sacrificing innocents to keep me safe!" Tsuzuki suddenly shouted, whirling to glare at Tatsumi, who glared back.
"No. We are not. What good would it do them if you were dead? Think, Tsuzuki. If you had gone and fought him, you would have failed. And Muraki would still be free to commit these murders. Have faith in your co-workers. He will be caught, but your death will help nothing."
"So you want me to sit here and do nothing?" Tsuzuki said, half-sarcastic, half-disbelief.
"Yes."
Tsuzuki held still for a moment, then tossed the folder onto a desk, turning and leaving the room without a word. He shut the door to his office quietly. Tatsumi sighed, and stared after Tsuzuki gently. Cautiously, life in the office resumed, as the various Shinigami turned back to their work and began to talk in quiet voices. Hisoka took a step into the room, wanting to see the folder that Tsuzuki had left behind. His movement caught Tatsumi's eye, and he turned to greet Hisoka.
"Good morning, Kurosaki-kun. I apologize for that. I should have been able to avoid such a spectacle."
Hisoka shook his head, distracted by reaching for the folder. He held it a moment in his hands, closed, as he turned back to Tatsumi. "It's not your fault. Tsuzuki's been spoiling for a fight for a days." He glanced over his shoulder to the closed office door. "Perhaps I should go talk to him..." Hisoka trailed off, not wanting to admit how reluctant he was to do just that, how unsure he was of what to say.
Tatsumi didn't seem to notice his trepidation, though, and just nodded. "Yes." He caught sight of the folder in Hisoka hands and blanched. "Kurosaki-kun, it might be best if you did not take that file with you," he said, holding out his hand for it.
Hisoka frowned in confusion, flipping open the file to see what it was. "Is this the latest victim-"
He cut himself off, staring at the glossy that was paper clipped to the front page. It was a school picture, a girl not more than sixteen, dressed in a tidy public school uniform. She was obviously meant to look like him. Sandy blonde hair, cut almost unfashionably short, large green eyes, pale skin. She even stared at the camera with a serious expression that Hisoka recognized from the mirror. A part of his mind wondered where Muraki had managed to find her even as he flipped to the back of the report, where the crime scene photos and police report where stapled together. He stared at the photos, not quite able to believe that one girl had had that much blood in her, before he tore his eyes away to the written description. She'd been raped. Hisoka closed the folder quickly, looking up to meet Tatsumi's gaze.
"Oh." He said, vaguely proud of how calm his voice sounded. "I... I see." He handed the folder to Tatsumi, then gestured over his shoulder. "I should, I should go see-"
"Hisoka." Tatsumi placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice kind. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that. Either of you. I did try-"
"No. I wouldn't want you to lie to me, or hide things. I'm sure Tsuzuki feels the same way." Hisoka took a step away, Tatsumi's hand falling away. He turned to walk to his office, but paused, looking back over his should. "Tatsumi?"
"Yes?"
"This other department... tell them to kill the bastard."
Tatsumi nodded, his lips clenched in a thin, bloodless smile. Hisoka turned away again, walking to the office he shared with Tsuzuki and opening the door without bothering to knock. He closed the door behind him again, and stood there for a moment, leaning back against the door. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, wishing for a chance to hide away and be alone until he felt ready to come back out.
No such luck. Tsuzuki had turned when the door opened, and was grinning widely at him. "Hisoka! Good morning. Look, Wakaba-chan baked me a whole apple pie! I’ll give you a piece if-"
"Tsuzuki, stop it. I heard the fight."
Tsuzuki paused for a second, and then continued, his puppy tail waging. "Oh, that Tatsumi! He's such a meanie... Hey, Hisoka, would you help me play a trick on him? We could put sugar in-"
"I saw the report on the new victim too."
Tsuzuki turned away to stare down at his desk, all signs of grins or puppiness gone. Hisoka took a cautious step towards him, and almost jumped when Tsuzuki stood up suddenly, brushing past him to go out the door.
"Tsuzuki!"
Tsuzuki stopped and turned to him, lifting one eyebrow curiously. Hisoka was at a loss for words. "Where- where are you going?"
"To Watari's lab. He said his new experiment worked really well, and I want to see it."
"Oh." Hisoka felt like the rung had been pulled out from under him. He was fairly sure this wasn't the way things were supposed to go. "Don't you want to talk?"
"About what?"
Hisoka paused. He didn't really know what should happen next. He cursed mentally, wishing that he'd had at least some experience with comforting people before he'd died. Of course, who would have known that it was a skill one needed in the afterlife?
Hisoka changed his mind. He didn't want to be left alone now. Not that he'd admit that to Tsuzuki. "About... this." Hisoka answered, lamely.
"Oh." Tsuzuki appeared to think about it for a moment. "No, not really." He turned to leave again.
"Wait! I'll come with you." Hisoka heard himself saying as he rushed to Tsuzuki's side.
Tsuzuki didn't move, one eyebrow still arched, on hand still on the doorknob. "I thought you said, 'Watari is a good guy, but his experiments have done more damage than all your Shikis combined. Only an idiot would go to his lab while he’s experimenting.'"
Hisoka blushed. Who knew that Tsuzuki would remember that? "Well, I-"
"'Especially if it's a new experiment.'"
Hisoka crossed his arms and turned away. "Idiot." He felt Tsuzuki follow his movement, turning to peer into Hisoka's face, but he refused to meet his eyes.
"Hisoka," Tsuzuki said, his voice finally serious. "What's wrong?"
Hisoka started to open his mouth to deny anything being wrong, but Tsuzuki cut him off before he could say a word. "No, don't say anything. I should have known." He sighed, reaching out to comb his fingers through Hisoka's hair, then dropping his hand lower to cup Hisoka's cheek. "Hisoka..." he breathed softly.
Hisoka titled his face to better fit in Tsuzuki's hand and lifted his chin, unconscious of his movements. He stared at Tsuzuki, his protests forgotten. Tsuzuki studied him for a moment, neither of them moving, then trailed his hand lower, pausing on Hisoka's shoulder briefly.
Then he poked him in the chest. "You're afraid to be alone!" he crowed.
"What? I... what?"
"Oh, poor Hisoka-chan," Tsuzuki rubbed his chin, pretending to think. "Perhaps the office is too dark. We could get a night-light! That might help." He patted Hisoka on the head, who grabbed his hand and tossed it back at him. Hisoka turned to walk out the door, but Tsuzuki stopped him, holding his arm and forcing him to stay in place. "Don't be ashamed, Hisoka! Many little boys-"
"Let go of me!" Hisoka said, wrenching his arm away.
"No!" Tsuzuki said playfully, grabbing Hisoka around the waist and beginning to tickle him.
Hisoka gasped at him in surprise. He'd never been tickled before, and his body twisted instinctively, trying to avoid Tsuzuki's fingers. He tried to step back, and found himself pressed up against a desk. Hisoka struggled wildly, feeling unsafe and overwhelmed and most definitely not amused, trying for enough breath to shout, or, better yet, enough room to smack Tsuzuki. "Stop it," he managed. "Tsuzuki-" Hisoka got an elbow in and Tsuzuki jerked back, holding his stomach and looking hurt. Hisoka glared at him, taking a deep breath and getting ready to yell.
He never got the chance though, because Tsuzuki suddenly lunged at him again, sending them both to the floor when Hisoka tried to duck and tangled their legs. Hisoka scrambled away as soon as they hit the ground. "You're not funny, idiot. Don't ever touch-"
"I know," Tsuzuki said, sounding genuinely apologetic. He climbed to his knees, and moved a step towards Hisoka, who flinched. Tsuzuki froze. "I'm sorry. I knew. I shouldn't have..." he trailed off, staring at Hisoka with pleading in his eyes. He reached out a hand, then jerked it back himself before Hisoka even had a chance to react. He tore his eyes away and looked at the ground, his voice moving too quickly, like he was gulping air. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But, please..." His voice broke and Hisoka stared, suddenly aware that there were tears in Tsuzuki's eyes. "Please, just for a moment, please, I promise. I just want- I need to be sure you're alright." He crept closer, cautiously, as he spoke, ending less than an inch away. Hisoka could almost feel him trembling as he waited there. He closed the gap between them, throwing his arms around Tsuzuki's neck as he felt arms wind tight around his waist. Tsuzuki buried his face in his hair, murmuring half-formed sentences that Hisoka could barely hear. Most of what he made out sounded like apologies, though for what, Hisoka wasn't sure.
They held like that for a long time, both still on their knees, their bodies pressed tight together. Hisoka felt too aware of the nearness of Tsuzuki's body, of how strange it was to be that close to another person. Their chests pushed together as they breathed, out of sync with one another and competing for air. He could feel Tsuzuki's emotions, no matter how firmly he held up his walls against them. The effort was making Hisoka vaguely nauseous, but he didn't dare to relax. He could feel tears soaking through his hair, he didn't need to feel the pain behind him. He could hear Tsuzuki's heart beat in his chest below his check. He'd never heard another person's heartbeat before. He didn't like it. You shouldn’t be able to hear as someone else's heart pumped blood through their body. His own heart was beating slower, and the discrepancy between the two was making him lose his concentration. Hisoka tried to pull his check away, but Tsuzuki's arms, tight around him, held him in place. Hisoka swallowed a sudden panic, trying to convince himself that he didn't need to move. He realized that his hands were clenching in Tsuzuki's collar, all his muscles tightening. Hisoka's walls shivered as all his body prepared to fight, and he had to clench them in place to avoid being whirled away into Tsuzuki. He needed to pull away. He was going to scream in a moment. His fingers tensed to the point of cramps, and still Tsuzuki's heart beat away under his cheek, a mindless tattoo that he couldn’t stand. He could hear Tsuzuki still mumbling senselessly and he hated to say it, but he had to pull away now-
"Tsuzuki, please, you have to let go, Tsuzuki-"
He hated himself even more when he felt how quickly Tsuzuki pulled away, a hurt look on his face and his eyes sliding away from Hisoka's gaze. He nodded, as if he knew he'd overstepped his bounds. "I'm sorry," he began as soon as he'd pulled away. "I know you didn't want and I shouldn't have and I won't-"
"Shut up." Hisoka stared desperately at the foot of floor between him and Tsuzuki. "You're babbling." He ached, from wanting to be back in Tsuzuki's arms, from his lungs, working too hard to pull in air, from wanting to stop the pain he saw in Tsuzuki's eyes, from the knowledge that, as much as he wanted it, there was nothing in all the world that could get him to take the step to Tsuzuki right now.
Tsuzuki said nothing, only backed even farther away, and began to rise to his feet. Hisoka realized suddenly why everyone else was so fond of touching. He didn't think he could stand to have Tsuzuki leave right now. He reached out and caught a handful of Tsuzuki's shirt, holding him in place but carefully not touching the skin. Hisoka squeezed his eyes shut. His hand was trembling. He wanted to pull away, to keep himself safe where other's emotions couldn't bleed into him. No. He wanted to touch Tsuzuki, to feel the simple comfort of him. No. He didn't want to feel anyone on him, against him, not when even simple touches always seemed like the echoes of Muraki's hands.
Hisoka cursed his parents, Muraki, whoever had decided that he should be born with empathy. He opened his eyes and noticed his knuckles were white, clenched too tightly in Tsuzuki's shirt. He relaxed his fingers, letting the shirt fall away, and gently placed his hand against Tsuzuki's cheek. A deep breath, and then he brought their faces together, foreheads and noses bumping. Tsuzuki didn't move, didn't say a word, but Hisoka could feel some of his tension slid away simply from the nearness, and his own slid away in response. Tsuzuki was so passive before him that he let go of his panic, able for a moment to simply be normal.
Tsuzuki sighed. "Another one died this morning," he said, so softly that Hisoka was sure he wouldn't have been able to hear him if he'd been any farther away.
"It wasn't me."
Tsuzuki nodded, his nose sliding briefly against Hisoka's cheek. "She looked so much like you. It was a message."
"I'm fine, Tsuzuki. Muraki didn't do anything to me."
"It's what he'll do if I don't go to him."
"He won't. He can't."
"They lived in my city. Mine. I'm the one responsible for protecting them, and I couldn't save a single one."
"Our city. We’re partners."
"Our city. It's happening in our city. And we're letting them die so we can stay safe." Hisoka could smell the tears, hot and salty. Tsuzuki pulled away suddenly, leaving Hisoka feeling strangely cold. "You're still wearing your coat."
Hisoka glanced down, as though Tsuzuki would be wrong. "Oh." He said stupidly, feeling like the flow of the conversation had left him behind. He shrugged out of it, folding it over in his arms. They both sat for a moment, silent, before Hisoka began to feel awkward. He motioned towards the door, thinking of the coat rack out in the main office, and moved to climb to his feet. "I should-"
In the same second, Tsuzuki moved forward, trying to take the coat from Hisoka. "I could-"
They both froze again, waiting for the other to start. Tsuzuki leaned forward abruptly, as though what he would say was vitally important. "I would never let..." he stopped.
Hisoka nodded. "I know. It's alright. I understand." He was so close, he could feel Tsuzuki's breath on his face.
The door opened and Watari peered in. Hisoka and Tsuzuki both jerked back guiltily. Hisoka didn't know whether to glare at Watari or thank him. Watari just stared at the both of them, still on the floor, before apparently decided that he didn't care. "You'd better come out here. There's been... a complication."
***
This last one is a sequel to Summer's Day. It's been sitting on my harddrive for ever, and while I'm sort of fond of the opening, I have no idea where I wanted it to go after here.
They were still more than a mile from the hotel when the storm broke out. A flash of lightening so bright that it seemed to illuminate all the world in a strange, fluorescent glow for one second, a crack of thunder loud enough to rattle windows in their panes, and the heavens themselves opened up. It had been dark and overcast all day, heavy clouds the color of dirty steel looming over the city and looking close enough to touch. They'd blocked out the sun, turning day to night a few hours ahead of schedule.
Hisoka lifted a hand to eyes, trying to see through the sudden sheets of water. It was raining so hard that the drops bounced off the ground in a mist and drove right through his jacket and shirt to skin, drenching him thoroughly in seconds. He'd been hoping they would finish the case and be back in Meifu before the rain started. Not so lucky. A complication no one had foreseen- who knew the girl had a secret boyfriend? -and not only would they not make it back to Meifu tonight, but tomorrow wasn't looking good either.
By his side, Tsuzuki came to stop, staring up at the sky as if he could figure out how to make the storm stop. Hisoka let his own steps slow, figuring that he couldn't get any wetter than he already was. His feet squished in their shoes and he sighed. Did water ruin sneakers? Maybe they'd dry in a weird shape...
"Heh," Tsuzuki laughed suddenly, turning to Hisoka with a guilty look on his face. "Maybe I did spend a little too long at the bakery."
"Ya think?" Hisoka said dryly, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning his own face up to the sky. He had to close his eyes against the onslaught of water. It was pouring, the rain falling almost hard enough to hurt, every drop stinging, but at least the water was warm instead of cold.
"But wasn't it worth it? Wasn't it the best apple pie you'd ever had?"
"You ate mine."
"Oh. Yeah," Tsuzuki paused as if he would say something else, but if he did it was drowned out by a roll of thunder. He visibly slumped, seeming to grow smaller as he lost his enthusiasm. He wandered aimlessly to a nearby railing and leaned against it, his back to Hisoka. They'd been caught in a large square, the concrete of the sidewalk only serving to create the perfect place for ankle-deep puddles. No benches, and the only trees were a few small, leafless ones on the other side. Lightening flashed again and Hisoka decided that it was probably best that they weren't near any trees. And, of course, no shelter from rain.
Tsuzuki's railing overlooked the sea. Hisoka couldn't see it from where he stood, but he could hear it, the waves crashing angrily against the rocks below. He could barely see Tsuzuki, in fact. The rain was so thick that the man was nothing more than a dark blur surrounded by the uniform gray of the rain and the sky and the mist that was beginning to spring up.
Hisoka waited a moment longer, expecting Tsuzuki to whirl around at any moment, laughing and demanding that they wait out the storm in a restaurant or complaining about how wet he must be getting, but he seemed content to simply stand there and look out at the water. Hisoka fidgeted, aware that he'd gone from staring at the sky to staring at the indistinct form of Tsuzuki. He was still uncomfortable at moments like these, when Tsuzuki suddenly proved beyond a doubt that the smiles and the desserts were no more than a front for a depression that lay far deeper. Hisoka wanted to comfort him, wanted badly to be able to make Tsuzuki smile, a real smile, one that actually made it to his eyes and out to where Hisoka could feel it.
But Hisoka had never been very good at talking to people. "C'mon. There’s no point in just standing out here."
Tsuzuki shrugged. "The hotel roof probably leaks anyways. You know Tatsumi..."
"Yeah, well, it's got to be drier than standing right underneath the worst of the storm." Hisoka moved next to Tsuzuki, slouching against the railing to study his partner out of the corner of his eye. The moment stretched out without a reply, without a single movement from Tsuzuki. Hisoka made up his mind that he had to break the silence. "Why don't you want to go back to the hotel?"
Tsuzuki turned to him and quickly kissed him. Hisoka startled back and blushed, not sure whether he was angrier at Tsuzuki for surprising him or himself for pulling away. "Aren't you supposed to take me to the hotel before you attack me?" His voice came out harsher than he'd intended, and he wished the words back as soon as they left his mouth.
Tsuzuki hardly seemed to notice, though, his melancholy gone as quickly as it had appeared. "I did not 'attack' you."
"Whatever."
"You didn't seem to mind last night."
"Shut up!" Hisoka looked away, sure his cheeks were bright red. "Jesus Christ, Tsuzuki. Crude much?"
Tsuzuki shrugged, pleased with himself and smiling smugly. He took advantage of the fact that Hisoka was looking away to slide in front of him and trap him between his arms and the railing. He stole another kiss just as Hisoka shoved him away. "Tsuzuki, stop it," he hissed. "We're in the middle of a city!"
Tsuzuki had locked his hands around the railing, and Hisoka's shove had barely rocked him back a step. "No," he whispered in Hisoka's ear, his voice low and seductive. "We're in the middle of a storm. Only idiots would be out in weather like this."
"Idiots like you," Hisoka muttered, trying to keep Tsuzuki from licking his jaw. Tsuzuki stepped back quickly, as if he'd been slapped, and Hisoka could have bitten his tongue. Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around himself and tilted his face to the sky, the rain running off his chin.
He sighed. "Hisoka, did you ever watch TV when you couldn't sleep? And they would play those old black-and-white movies, the romantic movies, late at night when no one else was awake. Whenever it rains, I think of them."
Hisoka's laugh caught in his throat. God, Tsuzuki was serious. He grabbed Tsuzuki by the collar of his trench coat and dragged him down so he could shove their heads together. "You. Are. A sap."
Tsuzuki closed his eyes, not quick enough to hide a look of pain. "I know."
"A huge. Romantic. Sap."
"Look, you don't have to-"
"I love you." Tsuzuki's eyes snapped back open in surprise, and he certainly would have said something, if Hisoka hadn't kissed him right then. Tsuzuki still tasted like apple pie- sugar and cinnamon and fresh fruit- and it was too tempting not to try and taste it all, to not swipe every corner of his mouth. His arms slowly settled around Hisoka's back as Tsuzuki finally started to respond, made tentative and shy by the seriousness of the situation.
Hisoka's hands loosed from the cloth of Tsuzuki's collar as it became apparent that he wasn't going to go anywhere, slipping one arm around his neck and using his other hand to cup Tsuzuki's face. He liked this, liked the feel of Tsuzuki's cheek under his palm and the way his jaw dipped a little as he moved to kiss Hisoka in just that way. Even if he never saw Tsuzuki again- which was a thought Hisoka didn't even want to consider- he could draw him, or sculpt him out marble and clay. He knew just how his hand fit against Tsuzuki's face, the way his fingers fell across his temple and the base of his thumb rested right at the corner of his lips, and he would never confuse a single part of it, never mistake it for another's. This was Tsuzuki's face, and he would always know it, as long as he could touch the smallest part of it. Hisoka liked that knowledge, better than something out of books or investigation meetings, just the simple knowledge that this was Tsuzuki. And no one else.
Hisoka liked kissing with his eyes open, too. Tsuzuki teased him about it; said it made him feel like he was being stared at. Of course, he was. Hisoka hadn't bothered to explain it to him, but he needed that, needed to see Tsuzuki even when he was so close he was nothing more than a blur of purple and buttermilk.
Tsuzuki was leaning into him harder now, pressing him into the railing behind his back. Their clothes were so wet that they were hardly a barrier between their skin, and Tsuzuki felt so warm, even through the rain. Hisoka caught his lower lip and rolled it between his teeth, biting lightly. He felt Tsuzuki shiver, just a little, but it made him grin, to know he had this much of an effect on him. He kissed the corner of his lips and made a little line of kisses down to his chin before pulling back.
"Like that?" Hisoka said, still panting a little, twineing his fingers through the hair of Tsuzuki's neck.
Tsuzuki let his arms loosen a little from around Hisoka, standing back far enough to talk. One hand dropped to Hisoka's hip, and his fingers curled around a belt loop of his jeans, holding him in place. "Almost."
Hisoka snorted. "What do you mean, 'almost'? What was wrong with it?"
"Well, if this was really one of those romantic movies, you'd be blonder. And you’d be a woman."
Hisoka could feel his mouth drop open. "What?"
"And we wouldn't be in Japan. We'd be someplace exotic, like America. Or France."
"Why am I the woman?"
"Japan just doesn't have that exotic ring to it, you know?" Tsuzuki tilted his head at Hisoka, looking genuinely curious.
"I am not the woman."
"Of course not, dear." Tsuzuki tried to ruffle his hair, but Hisoka dodged his hand.
"Don't call me that!" He shoved at Tsuzuki hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps and poked him in the chest. "Tell me you don't think I'm the woman."
"Ow," Tsuuzki whined, clutching at his chest like he was greviously wounded. "No, I don't think you're the woman. Women are nicer."
"Good." Hisoka crossed his arms. "Now, what's wrong with Japan?"
"It's not romantic."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"I'm not going to argue about this."
"But it's not! Listen," Tsuzuki suddenly drew himself up straighter, adopting a pose. He tilted an imaginary hat and began to speak in voice deeper than normal. "Remember kid, we'll always have Nagasaki." He pulled Hisoka quickly to him and tried to dip him into a kiss. Hisoka was having none of it, though, and tried to step away just as Tsuzuki tried to dip him, the end result being something like Tsuzuki throwing Hisoka to the ground and getting pulled along with him.
"See? That wasn't romantic at all!" Tsuzuki said, kneeling above Hisoka.
"You dropped me! Get off!"
***
I signed up for the Free Verse challenge back... whenever it was. Last spring, I think. The challenge was that you'd get a bit of poetry and, without knowing where it came from or the rest of the poem, you had to write a fic from it. I never did finish the story, but here's the little bit I wrote, plus my prompt:
"Not even I remember the first time, the hitch
In the throat and the moan perhaps, I've seen it
So much, the thrashing in the silk, the fluids,
I compass the course, the distance of spasms."
There were signs. Looking back, I don't understand how I couldn't have known. How I could have woken up, my clothes bloody and torn and only half-on, and not wondered. It wasn't that I couldn't remember. It was that I couldn't even try. If I thought about it, if I tried to recall where I'd spent that night, my mind just... slipped away from it. Turned aside at the edges of memory, distracted by something else, until I forgot that there was anything missing.
It was the woman. She was there- and then she wasn't. A rising crescendo of fear and panic and terror, like a scream that on one could hear, and then the pain, so much pain, I'd never felt pain like that, I hadn't known anyone could feel pain like that, and then it stopped. And she was gone. Nothing. Silence. All those emotions just shut off, like a TV or a radio, but not a person, and I was still standing there, trying vaguely to follow her away, straining for a last glimpse of her, not quite understanding yet what had happened and so reaching out for the soul that should have, should have been there, when in the quiet left by her death I felt the slow twining of his thoughts, and knew that I should have run.
There are moments, sometimes, when I can't bear to be touched, when I can't stand to have another human that close, when even the contact of fingertips is too much. How could I? How could I want-
All that time I thought I was sick. How the hell could I have forgotten? Four years, nearly four years, and I never knew. Four fucking years with that secret inside me, just waiting for him to bring it out, slumbering, unwanted, a cancer waiting to spread. And I never suspected. I had to overhear it to realize I'd been murdered.
This next one is the very first fic I started writing for YnM. Wow, does it show. I feel compelled to remind you that none of these have been edited or looked over in any way. This one doesn't even have a name, beyond "Christmas Plot".
The day was windy and overcast. The clouds were so thick and uniform that you couldn't pick one out from the others. The whole sky seemed to be a single sheet of brilliant, cold white. There was no hint of blue anywhere, the only difference in color at all being a slight darkening to gray near the horizon. The sun was hopelessly hidden somewhere behind those layers, its light so diffused that to look anywhere at the sky was to be almost blinded. The snow on the ground was nearly as thick and white as the sky above it, and the people and buildings looked suspended between the two, like drawings on clean paper.
Hisoka shivered and pulled his jacket closer around him. It didn't snow often in Meifu, but it happened from time to time, to please the people who'd enjoyed winter. Hisoka wasn't one of them.
It was December 24, and the snow in Nagasaki was as thick as here above. For the last week, women had been disappearing from the city, only to show up days later, dead and laid out carefully in the snow. Some had had their throats slashed, the blood drained, some had had their hair cut, some were missing their hearts. Each one had held a single rose in a hand, blood-red.
Muraki was a fucking bastard when he thought he was being funny.
Hisoka had seen the crime photos, he'd studied the reports. He had not seen anything in person. Tatsumi had declared himself sick of the doctor's mind games. As soon as the first woman had been found- both her eyes gouged out and replaced with amethysts- he'd confined both Hisoka and Tsuzuki to Meifu. They'd only just begun to return to field work at the time, a few tentative cases meant to adjust them both back to life.
The boredom was driving Hisoka mad. Any paperwork left over from before Kyoto had long since been finished. Tsuzuki's desk was as clean as Hisoka had ever seen it. Of course, he'd been the one who'd cleaned, one day when he was desperate for things to do. Neither of them had anywhere else to go, so they'd both continued to show up at work, day after day, driving their friends insane.
Even Tsuzuki wasn't a comfort. Since Kyoto, since the long days afterwards, they seemed to have found a balance, but it was so delicate. Neither of them had spoken of what they'd promised there, in the middle of black flames and snake coils. Hisoka thought he could almost hear their words hovering, just under the edge of hearing, in every tenuous, surface conversation they'd had since then. He could barely stand to be alone with Tsuzuki now, hovering between the partners they'd once been and what he had expected they'd become. Hisoka almost wished he could call his words that night back. He'd pledged himself to Tsuzuki, promised to follow him even beyond death.
And now what? Now they danced around each other, afraid to say anything meaningful. And being trapped together here for the last week had not helped. Tension was rising, and all the Shinigami could feel it. Even Wakaba had snapped at him yesterday, though she'd apologized after. Watari's experiments seemed to be exploding more violently than usual, and the photos of murdered women hanging around the Guoshoshin as they researched helped no one's nerves. Sometimes Hisoka felt like he could scream.
Or someone could do it for him…
Hisoka paused in the doorway of the Diet Building, stomping snow off of his boots. There was a brief silence following what had sounding like Tsuzuki shouting, and then the everyday murmur of the office rose again. A wave of panic rose in him, and he tried to quash it. Everything was fine. He could feel the calm of the workers around him. But he couldn't help but remember other times he‘d heard Tsuzuki shouting- times when, more than likely, he would show up too late, only to see Shiki swarming the building and destroying whatever stood in their way.
And one time to even see them destroying Tsuzuki himself.
Hisoka hurried through the hallways, forgotten coat still slung around his shoulder, snow slowly melting into his shoes in the warmth of the building. The sight that greeted him when he finally reached the office was enough to make him freeze in the doorway again. Tsuzuki and Tatsumi were fighting.
"This makes eight, Tatsumi," Tsuzuki was saying, emphasizing his words by slapping a file folder against a desk. "Eight! And we're doing nothing!"
"Yes," Tatsumi said calmy, adjusting his glasses with one hand. His voice was perfectly cool, despite the fact that Tsuzuki was all but throwing a fit mere inches away. "We do nothing. The entire case is in the hands of another district."
"What district? Let me just go and talk to them, let me help them look-"
"No. You are to have nothing to do with Muraki."
"They'll never catch him! He could hide forever. You know how clever he is."
"Exactly. That is why you must stay away. He's trying to draw you out, Tsuzuki, and what will we do if he gets you again?"
Tsuzuki looked away, his mouth twisting in defeat as he tried to think of an answer. When he spoke again, all the anger was gone from his voice. "Please, Tatsumi. I can't just stay here and watch, I can't do nothing while he keeps on killing people from my city. I should have been there to protect them..."
"This is not your fault, and do not try to convince me that it is. What good-"
"You're sacrificing innocents to keep me safe!" Tsuzuki suddenly shouted, whirling to glare at Tatsumi, who glared back.
"No. We are not. What good would it do them if you were dead? Think, Tsuzuki. If you had gone and fought him, you would have failed. And Muraki would still be free to commit these murders. Have faith in your co-workers. He will be caught, but your death will help nothing."
"So you want me to sit here and do nothing?" Tsuzuki said, half-sarcastic, half-disbelief.
"Yes."
Tsuzuki held still for a moment, then tossed the folder onto a desk, turning and leaving the room without a word. He shut the door to his office quietly. Tatsumi sighed, and stared after Tsuzuki gently. Cautiously, life in the office resumed, as the various Shinigami turned back to their work and began to talk in quiet voices. Hisoka took a step into the room, wanting to see the folder that Tsuzuki had left behind. His movement caught Tatsumi's eye, and he turned to greet Hisoka.
"Good morning, Kurosaki-kun. I apologize for that. I should have been able to avoid such a spectacle."
Hisoka shook his head, distracted by reaching for the folder. He held it a moment in his hands, closed, as he turned back to Tatsumi. "It's not your fault. Tsuzuki's been spoiling for a fight for a days." He glanced over his shoulder to the closed office door. "Perhaps I should go talk to him..." Hisoka trailed off, not wanting to admit how reluctant he was to do just that, how unsure he was of what to say.
Tatsumi didn't seem to notice his trepidation, though, and just nodded. "Yes." He caught sight of the folder in Hisoka hands and blanched. "Kurosaki-kun, it might be best if you did not take that file with you," he said, holding out his hand for it.
Hisoka frowned in confusion, flipping open the file to see what it was. "Is this the latest victim-"
He cut himself off, staring at the glossy that was paper clipped to the front page. It was a school picture, a girl not more than sixteen, dressed in a tidy public school uniform. She was obviously meant to look like him. Sandy blonde hair, cut almost unfashionably short, large green eyes, pale skin. She even stared at the camera with a serious expression that Hisoka recognized from the mirror. A part of his mind wondered where Muraki had managed to find her even as he flipped to the back of the report, where the crime scene photos and police report where stapled together. He stared at the photos, not quite able to believe that one girl had had that much blood in her, before he tore his eyes away to the written description. She'd been raped. Hisoka closed the folder quickly, looking up to meet Tatsumi's gaze.
"Oh." He said, vaguely proud of how calm his voice sounded. "I... I see." He handed the folder to Tatsumi, then gestured over his shoulder. "I should, I should go see-"
"Hisoka." Tatsumi placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice kind. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that. Either of you. I did try-"
"No. I wouldn't want you to lie to me, or hide things. I'm sure Tsuzuki feels the same way." Hisoka took a step away, Tatsumi's hand falling away. He turned to walk to his office, but paused, looking back over his should. "Tatsumi?"
"Yes?"
"This other department... tell them to kill the bastard."
Tatsumi nodded, his lips clenched in a thin, bloodless smile. Hisoka turned away again, walking to the office he shared with Tsuzuki and opening the door without bothering to knock. He closed the door behind him again, and stood there for a moment, leaning back against the door. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, wishing for a chance to hide away and be alone until he felt ready to come back out.
No such luck. Tsuzuki had turned when the door opened, and was grinning widely at him. "Hisoka! Good morning. Look, Wakaba-chan baked me a whole apple pie! I’ll give you a piece if-"
"Tsuzuki, stop it. I heard the fight."
Tsuzuki paused for a second, and then continued, his puppy tail waging. "Oh, that Tatsumi! He's such a meanie... Hey, Hisoka, would you help me play a trick on him? We could put sugar in-"
"I saw the report on the new victim too."
Tsuzuki turned away to stare down at his desk, all signs of grins or puppiness gone. Hisoka took a cautious step towards him, and almost jumped when Tsuzuki stood up suddenly, brushing past him to go out the door.
"Tsuzuki!"
Tsuzuki stopped and turned to him, lifting one eyebrow curiously. Hisoka was at a loss for words. "Where- where are you going?"
"To Watari's lab. He said his new experiment worked really well, and I want to see it."
"Oh." Hisoka felt like the rung had been pulled out from under him. He was fairly sure this wasn't the way things were supposed to go. "Don't you want to talk?"
"About what?"
Hisoka paused. He didn't really know what should happen next. He cursed mentally, wishing that he'd had at least some experience with comforting people before he'd died. Of course, who would have known that it was a skill one needed in the afterlife?
Hisoka changed his mind. He didn't want to be left alone now. Not that he'd admit that to Tsuzuki. "About... this." Hisoka answered, lamely.
"Oh." Tsuzuki appeared to think about it for a moment. "No, not really." He turned to leave again.
"Wait! I'll come with you." Hisoka heard himself saying as he rushed to Tsuzuki's side.
Tsuzuki didn't move, one eyebrow still arched, on hand still on the doorknob. "I thought you said, 'Watari is a good guy, but his experiments have done more damage than all your Shikis combined. Only an idiot would go to his lab while he’s experimenting.'"
Hisoka blushed. Who knew that Tsuzuki would remember that? "Well, I-"
"'Especially if it's a new experiment.'"
Hisoka crossed his arms and turned away. "Idiot." He felt Tsuzuki follow his movement, turning to peer into Hisoka's face, but he refused to meet his eyes.
"Hisoka," Tsuzuki said, his voice finally serious. "What's wrong?"
Hisoka started to open his mouth to deny anything being wrong, but Tsuzuki cut him off before he could say a word. "No, don't say anything. I should have known." He sighed, reaching out to comb his fingers through Hisoka's hair, then dropping his hand lower to cup Hisoka's cheek. "Hisoka..." he breathed softly.
Hisoka titled his face to better fit in Tsuzuki's hand and lifted his chin, unconscious of his movements. He stared at Tsuzuki, his protests forgotten. Tsuzuki studied him for a moment, neither of them moving, then trailed his hand lower, pausing on Hisoka's shoulder briefly.
Then he poked him in the chest. "You're afraid to be alone!" he crowed.
"What? I... what?"
"Oh, poor Hisoka-chan," Tsuzuki rubbed his chin, pretending to think. "Perhaps the office is too dark. We could get a night-light! That might help." He patted Hisoka on the head, who grabbed his hand and tossed it back at him. Hisoka turned to walk out the door, but Tsuzuki stopped him, holding his arm and forcing him to stay in place. "Don't be ashamed, Hisoka! Many little boys-"
"Let go of me!" Hisoka said, wrenching his arm away.
"No!" Tsuzuki said playfully, grabbing Hisoka around the waist and beginning to tickle him.
Hisoka gasped at him in surprise. He'd never been tickled before, and his body twisted instinctively, trying to avoid Tsuzuki's fingers. He tried to step back, and found himself pressed up against a desk. Hisoka struggled wildly, feeling unsafe and overwhelmed and most definitely not amused, trying for enough breath to shout, or, better yet, enough room to smack Tsuzuki. "Stop it," he managed. "Tsuzuki-" Hisoka got an elbow in and Tsuzuki jerked back, holding his stomach and looking hurt. Hisoka glared at him, taking a deep breath and getting ready to yell.
He never got the chance though, because Tsuzuki suddenly lunged at him again, sending them both to the floor when Hisoka tried to duck and tangled their legs. Hisoka scrambled away as soon as they hit the ground. "You're not funny, idiot. Don't ever touch-"
"I know," Tsuzuki said, sounding genuinely apologetic. He climbed to his knees, and moved a step towards Hisoka, who flinched. Tsuzuki froze. "I'm sorry. I knew. I shouldn't have..." he trailed off, staring at Hisoka with pleading in his eyes. He reached out a hand, then jerked it back himself before Hisoka even had a chance to react. He tore his eyes away and looked at the ground, his voice moving too quickly, like he was gulping air. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But, please..." His voice broke and Hisoka stared, suddenly aware that there were tears in Tsuzuki's eyes. "Please, just for a moment, please, I promise. I just want- I need to be sure you're alright." He crept closer, cautiously, as he spoke, ending less than an inch away. Hisoka could almost feel him trembling as he waited there. He closed the gap between them, throwing his arms around Tsuzuki's neck as he felt arms wind tight around his waist. Tsuzuki buried his face in his hair, murmuring half-formed sentences that Hisoka could barely hear. Most of what he made out sounded like apologies, though for what, Hisoka wasn't sure.
They held like that for a long time, both still on their knees, their bodies pressed tight together. Hisoka felt too aware of the nearness of Tsuzuki's body, of how strange it was to be that close to another person. Their chests pushed together as they breathed, out of sync with one another and competing for air. He could feel Tsuzuki's emotions, no matter how firmly he held up his walls against them. The effort was making Hisoka vaguely nauseous, but he didn't dare to relax. He could feel tears soaking through his hair, he didn't need to feel the pain behind him. He could hear Tsuzuki's heart beat in his chest below his check. He'd never heard another person's heartbeat before. He didn't like it. You shouldn’t be able to hear as someone else's heart pumped blood through their body. His own heart was beating slower, and the discrepancy between the two was making him lose his concentration. Hisoka tried to pull his check away, but Tsuzuki's arms, tight around him, held him in place. Hisoka swallowed a sudden panic, trying to convince himself that he didn't need to move. He realized that his hands were clenching in Tsuzuki's collar, all his muscles tightening. Hisoka's walls shivered as all his body prepared to fight, and he had to clench them in place to avoid being whirled away into Tsuzuki. He needed to pull away. He was going to scream in a moment. His fingers tensed to the point of cramps, and still Tsuzuki's heart beat away under his cheek, a mindless tattoo that he couldn’t stand. He could hear Tsuzuki still mumbling senselessly and he hated to say it, but he had to pull away now-
"Tsuzuki, please, you have to let go, Tsuzuki-"
He hated himself even more when he felt how quickly Tsuzuki pulled away, a hurt look on his face and his eyes sliding away from Hisoka's gaze. He nodded, as if he knew he'd overstepped his bounds. "I'm sorry," he began as soon as he'd pulled away. "I know you didn't want and I shouldn't have and I won't-"
"Shut up." Hisoka stared desperately at the foot of floor between him and Tsuzuki. "You're babbling." He ached, from wanting to be back in Tsuzuki's arms, from his lungs, working too hard to pull in air, from wanting to stop the pain he saw in Tsuzuki's eyes, from the knowledge that, as much as he wanted it, there was nothing in all the world that could get him to take the step to Tsuzuki right now.
Tsuzuki said nothing, only backed even farther away, and began to rise to his feet. Hisoka realized suddenly why everyone else was so fond of touching. He didn't think he could stand to have Tsuzuki leave right now. He reached out and caught a handful of Tsuzuki's shirt, holding him in place but carefully not touching the skin. Hisoka squeezed his eyes shut. His hand was trembling. He wanted to pull away, to keep himself safe where other's emotions couldn't bleed into him. No. He wanted to touch Tsuzuki, to feel the simple comfort of him. No. He didn't want to feel anyone on him, against him, not when even simple touches always seemed like the echoes of Muraki's hands.
Hisoka cursed his parents, Muraki, whoever had decided that he should be born with empathy. He opened his eyes and noticed his knuckles were white, clenched too tightly in Tsuzuki's shirt. He relaxed his fingers, letting the shirt fall away, and gently placed his hand against Tsuzuki's cheek. A deep breath, and then he brought their faces together, foreheads and noses bumping. Tsuzuki didn't move, didn't say a word, but Hisoka could feel some of his tension slid away simply from the nearness, and his own slid away in response. Tsuzuki was so passive before him that he let go of his panic, able for a moment to simply be normal.
Tsuzuki sighed. "Another one died this morning," he said, so softly that Hisoka was sure he wouldn't have been able to hear him if he'd been any farther away.
"It wasn't me."
Tsuzuki nodded, his nose sliding briefly against Hisoka's cheek. "She looked so much like you. It was a message."
"I'm fine, Tsuzuki. Muraki didn't do anything to me."
"It's what he'll do if I don't go to him."
"He won't. He can't."
"They lived in my city. Mine. I'm the one responsible for protecting them, and I couldn't save a single one."
"Our city. We’re partners."
"Our city. It's happening in our city. And we're letting them die so we can stay safe." Hisoka could smell the tears, hot and salty. Tsuzuki pulled away suddenly, leaving Hisoka feeling strangely cold. "You're still wearing your coat."
Hisoka glanced down, as though Tsuzuki would be wrong. "Oh." He said stupidly, feeling like the flow of the conversation had left him behind. He shrugged out of it, folding it over in his arms. They both sat for a moment, silent, before Hisoka began to feel awkward. He motioned towards the door, thinking of the coat rack out in the main office, and moved to climb to his feet. "I should-"
In the same second, Tsuzuki moved forward, trying to take the coat from Hisoka. "I could-"
They both froze again, waiting for the other to start. Tsuzuki leaned forward abruptly, as though what he would say was vitally important. "I would never let..." he stopped.
Hisoka nodded. "I know. It's alright. I understand." He was so close, he could feel Tsuzuki's breath on his face.
The door opened and Watari peered in. Hisoka and Tsuzuki both jerked back guiltily. Hisoka didn't know whether to glare at Watari or thank him. Watari just stared at the both of them, still on the floor, before apparently decided that he didn't care. "You'd better come out here. There's been... a complication."
This last one is a sequel to Summer's Day. It's been sitting on my harddrive for ever, and while I'm sort of fond of the opening, I have no idea where I wanted it to go after here.
They were still more than a mile from the hotel when the storm broke out. A flash of lightening so bright that it seemed to illuminate all the world in a strange, fluorescent glow for one second, a crack of thunder loud enough to rattle windows in their panes, and the heavens themselves opened up. It had been dark and overcast all day, heavy clouds the color of dirty steel looming over the city and looking close enough to touch. They'd blocked out the sun, turning day to night a few hours ahead of schedule.
Hisoka lifted a hand to eyes, trying to see through the sudden sheets of water. It was raining so hard that the drops bounced off the ground in a mist and drove right through his jacket and shirt to skin, drenching him thoroughly in seconds. He'd been hoping they would finish the case and be back in Meifu before the rain started. Not so lucky. A complication no one had foreseen- who knew the girl had a secret boyfriend? -and not only would they not make it back to Meifu tonight, but tomorrow wasn't looking good either.
By his side, Tsuzuki came to stop, staring up at the sky as if he could figure out how to make the storm stop. Hisoka let his own steps slow, figuring that he couldn't get any wetter than he already was. His feet squished in their shoes and he sighed. Did water ruin sneakers? Maybe they'd dry in a weird shape...
"Heh," Tsuzuki laughed suddenly, turning to Hisoka with a guilty look on his face. "Maybe I did spend a little too long at the bakery."
"Ya think?" Hisoka said dryly, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning his own face up to the sky. He had to close his eyes against the onslaught of water. It was pouring, the rain falling almost hard enough to hurt, every drop stinging, but at least the water was warm instead of cold.
"But wasn't it worth it? Wasn't it the best apple pie you'd ever had?"
"You ate mine."
"Oh. Yeah," Tsuzuki paused as if he would say something else, but if he did it was drowned out by a roll of thunder. He visibly slumped, seeming to grow smaller as he lost his enthusiasm. He wandered aimlessly to a nearby railing and leaned against it, his back to Hisoka. They'd been caught in a large square, the concrete of the sidewalk only serving to create the perfect place for ankle-deep puddles. No benches, and the only trees were a few small, leafless ones on the other side. Lightening flashed again and Hisoka decided that it was probably best that they weren't near any trees. And, of course, no shelter from rain.
Tsuzuki's railing overlooked the sea. Hisoka couldn't see it from where he stood, but he could hear it, the waves crashing angrily against the rocks below. He could barely see Tsuzuki, in fact. The rain was so thick that the man was nothing more than a dark blur surrounded by the uniform gray of the rain and the sky and the mist that was beginning to spring up.
Hisoka waited a moment longer, expecting Tsuzuki to whirl around at any moment, laughing and demanding that they wait out the storm in a restaurant or complaining about how wet he must be getting, but he seemed content to simply stand there and look out at the water. Hisoka fidgeted, aware that he'd gone from staring at the sky to staring at the indistinct form of Tsuzuki. He was still uncomfortable at moments like these, when Tsuzuki suddenly proved beyond a doubt that the smiles and the desserts were no more than a front for a depression that lay far deeper. Hisoka wanted to comfort him, wanted badly to be able to make Tsuzuki smile, a real smile, one that actually made it to his eyes and out to where Hisoka could feel it.
But Hisoka had never been very good at talking to people. "C'mon. There’s no point in just standing out here."
Tsuzuki shrugged. "The hotel roof probably leaks anyways. You know Tatsumi..."
"Yeah, well, it's got to be drier than standing right underneath the worst of the storm." Hisoka moved next to Tsuzuki, slouching against the railing to study his partner out of the corner of his eye. The moment stretched out without a reply, without a single movement from Tsuzuki. Hisoka made up his mind that he had to break the silence. "Why don't you want to go back to the hotel?"
Tsuzuki turned to him and quickly kissed him. Hisoka startled back and blushed, not sure whether he was angrier at Tsuzuki for surprising him or himself for pulling away. "Aren't you supposed to take me to the hotel before you attack me?" His voice came out harsher than he'd intended, and he wished the words back as soon as they left his mouth.
Tsuzuki hardly seemed to notice, though, his melancholy gone as quickly as it had appeared. "I did not 'attack' you."
"Whatever."
"You didn't seem to mind last night."
"Shut up!" Hisoka looked away, sure his cheeks were bright red. "Jesus Christ, Tsuzuki. Crude much?"
Tsuzuki shrugged, pleased with himself and smiling smugly. He took advantage of the fact that Hisoka was looking away to slide in front of him and trap him between his arms and the railing. He stole another kiss just as Hisoka shoved him away. "Tsuzuki, stop it," he hissed. "We're in the middle of a city!"
Tsuzuki had locked his hands around the railing, and Hisoka's shove had barely rocked him back a step. "No," he whispered in Hisoka's ear, his voice low and seductive. "We're in the middle of a storm. Only idiots would be out in weather like this."
"Idiots like you," Hisoka muttered, trying to keep Tsuzuki from licking his jaw. Tsuzuki stepped back quickly, as if he'd been slapped, and Hisoka could have bitten his tongue. Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around himself and tilted his face to the sky, the rain running off his chin.
He sighed. "Hisoka, did you ever watch TV when you couldn't sleep? And they would play those old black-and-white movies, the romantic movies, late at night when no one else was awake. Whenever it rains, I think of them."
Hisoka's laugh caught in his throat. God, Tsuzuki was serious. He grabbed Tsuzuki by the collar of his trench coat and dragged him down so he could shove their heads together. "You. Are. A sap."
Tsuzuki closed his eyes, not quick enough to hide a look of pain. "I know."
"A huge. Romantic. Sap."
"Look, you don't have to-"
"I love you." Tsuzuki's eyes snapped back open in surprise, and he certainly would have said something, if Hisoka hadn't kissed him right then. Tsuzuki still tasted like apple pie- sugar and cinnamon and fresh fruit- and it was too tempting not to try and taste it all, to not swipe every corner of his mouth. His arms slowly settled around Hisoka's back as Tsuzuki finally started to respond, made tentative and shy by the seriousness of the situation.
Hisoka's hands loosed from the cloth of Tsuzuki's collar as it became apparent that he wasn't going to go anywhere, slipping one arm around his neck and using his other hand to cup Tsuzuki's face. He liked this, liked the feel of Tsuzuki's cheek under his palm and the way his jaw dipped a little as he moved to kiss Hisoka in just that way. Even if he never saw Tsuzuki again- which was a thought Hisoka didn't even want to consider- he could draw him, or sculpt him out marble and clay. He knew just how his hand fit against Tsuzuki's face, the way his fingers fell across his temple and the base of his thumb rested right at the corner of his lips, and he would never confuse a single part of it, never mistake it for another's. This was Tsuzuki's face, and he would always know it, as long as he could touch the smallest part of it. Hisoka liked that knowledge, better than something out of books or investigation meetings, just the simple knowledge that this was Tsuzuki. And no one else.
Hisoka liked kissing with his eyes open, too. Tsuzuki teased him about it; said it made him feel like he was being stared at. Of course, he was. Hisoka hadn't bothered to explain it to him, but he needed that, needed to see Tsuzuki even when he was so close he was nothing more than a blur of purple and buttermilk.
Tsuzuki was leaning into him harder now, pressing him into the railing behind his back. Their clothes were so wet that they were hardly a barrier between their skin, and Tsuzuki felt so warm, even through the rain. Hisoka caught his lower lip and rolled it between his teeth, biting lightly. He felt Tsuzuki shiver, just a little, but it made him grin, to know he had this much of an effect on him. He kissed the corner of his lips and made a little line of kisses down to his chin before pulling back.
"Like that?" Hisoka said, still panting a little, twineing his fingers through the hair of Tsuzuki's neck.
Tsuzuki let his arms loosen a little from around Hisoka, standing back far enough to talk. One hand dropped to Hisoka's hip, and his fingers curled around a belt loop of his jeans, holding him in place. "Almost."
Hisoka snorted. "What do you mean, 'almost'? What was wrong with it?"
"Well, if this was really one of those romantic movies, you'd be blonder. And you’d be a woman."
Hisoka could feel his mouth drop open. "What?"
"And we wouldn't be in Japan. We'd be someplace exotic, like America. Or France."
"Why am I the woman?"
"Japan just doesn't have that exotic ring to it, you know?" Tsuzuki tilted his head at Hisoka, looking genuinely curious.
"I am not the woman."
"Of course not, dear." Tsuzuki tried to ruffle his hair, but Hisoka dodged his hand.
"Don't call me that!" He shoved at Tsuzuki hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps and poked him in the chest. "Tell me you don't think I'm the woman."
"Ow," Tsuuzki whined, clutching at his chest like he was greviously wounded. "No, I don't think you're the woman. Women are nicer."
"Good." Hisoka crossed his arms. "Now, what's wrong with Japan?"
"It's not romantic."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"I'm not going to argue about this."
"But it's not! Listen," Tsuzuki suddenly drew himself up straighter, adopting a pose. He tilted an imaginary hat and began to speak in voice deeper than normal. "Remember kid, we'll always have Nagasaki." He pulled Hisoka quickly to him and tried to dip him into a kiss. Hisoka was having none of it, though, and tried to step away just as Tsuzuki tried to dip him, the end result being something like Tsuzuki throwing Hisoka to the ground and getting pulled along with him.
"See? That wasn't romantic at all!" Tsuzuki said, kneeling above Hisoka.
"You dropped me! Get off!"
