Possible spoilers for episode seven,
but nothing major. A few more about
Tsuzuki's past, but most people know
those anyway. Ah yes...These *are*
Muraki's thoughts, and on Tsuzuki, no
less, so please don't expect a lot of
kind, fluffy things. MurakixTsuzuki, but I wouldn’t call it
yaoi. It’s more
shonen ai in my book, but I guess it
all depends on your point of view.
This story takes place in the middle of
episode seven, or in the third manga
arc.
Most of the dialog is taken directly from the anime, though in one case
I
added a few words to ease transition.
Simple Games
A Yami no Matsuei ficlet by Ginzai
* * * *
Until you feel you're safe and sound
Once you start watching, you keep
watching
Until you’re tied up and your
spellbound”
-My Favorite Headache
* * * *
He trembles beneath me, and I find his
fright amusing. A simple game, ne,
Tsuzuki-san? That's all any of this is...A game set with you and the little
one
and all of these humans as
players...and despite the fact that I set the stage
and manipulated those involved into
participating, not even I know all the
rules.
Your simple appearance changed everything.
I truly did not expect to see you here,
Tsuzuki-san. However, let it not be
said that I am unable to move with the
times, to twist my plans as situations
change. My mother said I was like a cat, always able to land on my
feet. You
remind me of a cat,
Tsuzuki-san...Asato.
Your eyes are wide as I move even
closer, taking in the heady scent of the
sakura and the sea and something else,
hints of the little one and the wine I
gave you still in your system. Roses, from my bouquet, and underneath all
of
that, your flesh gives off the light
fresh smell of tulips. You are an
ikebana
arrangement in yourself,
Tsuzuki-san. Do you even know how to go
about this,
Tsuzuki? Irony fills both our lives, yet I didn’t expect to find it
here. Born
over half a century before me, yet I am
much more practiced in this game than
you.
Games...That was how all of this
started, even before I saw you arguing with the
stupid American guards. A simple game, ne?
"Tsuzuki-san, ne. Why don't we solve this over a game of
poker? But let's make
it more interesting...instead of using
chips we'll use something else to bet
with."
"..Something else?"
"Hai. Perhaps your body would do."
"What are you suggesting?!"
"Game, it's a *game*. Or are you afraid I'd beat you?"
Of course you are. You haven't won against me yet. Have you, Tsuzuki? You
can't.
Oh, you can run, and you can summon your gods, and dispel my monsters,
but you can't win. Not this game. Not when I control everything.
Not when you
still have to know... You are still so ignorant, and yet you don't
question my
abilities or myself. Not even to know how I knew the heart flush
you held in
your hands, my winning cards besting
yours without even seeing them.
You remind me of myself, before my
fall, but ever so much more innocent, more
determined. More repressed. I was
weak, Tsuzuki, but you...you have an inner
strength greater than any I have seen
before. Your weakness is that you don't
want it. You fight it, shuddering away from its eternal nature even more
that
you do my gentle touch. I wonder why. It is something to determine.
Like so
many of your secrets...
I will learn them. You have done something to me, Tsuzuki, had
done it even
before I first saw the grainy black and
white photograph of your tortured visage
secreted away in my grandfather's
files. Something about you drew me
close,
something in the anguished look of your
eyes and I wanted you then. Wanted you
for what you could teach me, with your
mortally immortal body, unable to die,
unable to age. When I saw you for the first time in the
church the feeling
intensified, making me almost unable to
breathe. It hurt...a strange
contraction in my chest as I realized
that I was looking at someone like me, a
being tainted the touch of darkness
that I knew all too well.
The attraction bloomed and it
frightened me with its intensity. By
then I
wanted you in a different way. Not just as an instrument for revenge
against a
man dead, but to taste, to
possess. I swore I wouldn't, swore that
I would
simply look but not interfere. However, when I see you, see your lithe body
and
glowingly bright eyes and strange,
saddened innocence, I can't help myself.
It
is a hard realization for one whose
survival was based on self-control alone,
but you are far more addicting than
wine, Tsuzuki. One look and all I
craved
was a single touch, a touch and all I
craved was a single taste. One taste,
and
than I was lost.
Do they see what I see, looking into
your eyes? Beyond that veneer of light
that fools even yourself, I would
imagine...Making your eighteen-year-old body
look so much older, tricking it and
yourself into forgetting a lost eight
years...You have fascinated more than
one generation of Muraki’s. My
grandfather took such meticulous notes
on you, even before you were lost to us.
He was as obsessed as I am in watching
you. I suppose that it runs in
family.
Do you know what rests behind your
gemstone bright gaze? The darkness that
hides even in the brightest soul? We are both descendents of darkness,
Tsuzuki.
The difference is, I embrace the darkness within me, and it
strengthens me,
heals and protects me. You run from it, hiding in the arms of your
organization. They can't protect you from the darkness, Tsuzuki Asato. No more
than they can protect you from me.
You blushed when I offered you the
roses, did you know that? It makes me
wonder
about the validity of your denials.
My lips touch your neck and you shudder
lightly, bright violet shielding itself
behind a fringe of darkest brown
lashes. You do feel it, don't you? One hand
creeping up to rest on my shoulder, not
pushing away, not struggling, but
trembling to grasp at the fabric of my
jacket. Unwittingly pulling me
closer.
I smirk at that, moving against pale,
pale skin, my smile lost in your hair.
You want this as much as I do, and are
horrified at the thought. My darkness
calling to your own...your own to
mine. Something in you is being pulled
forward by my caress, and until you
know what that is, you can't escape.
Can
you, Asato?
You're shaking, Asato.
I want more...the clothes that you are
wearing far too much of an impediment to
my hands. I want to touch, to taste, to bury myself in your sweet bright
darkness...To find it and draw it out,
and even the ever-present thoughts of
revenge are lost for the moment. I move upwards, moving to capture your
lips...How would you taste, Asato? Like apple pie, I'd imagine, and I hover for
a moment, thinking about it. Sweet...
Your fingers tense on my shoulder as I
near my goal. You don't trust me, do
you?
I can't say I blame you. I
wonder what it would take to make you trust
me…Probably something I can’t
give. I wait a moment, but your fingers
haven't
yet relaxed themselves, haven't fallen
back into the state they were
before...and they are starting to push.
You are not ready yet, Asato. I can sense your darkness fleeing, lost
again in
the sweltering roll of suppressed
memories. You are coming back to your
senses
and unnerved to find yourself in such a
position. Pushing you any further at
this point would be a mistake...but a
grand one to make. Much as I want this,
want you, want to taste and smell and
lick and touch...To take it too far would
be to lose you all together.
And then some other Muraki would take
you.
I can't allow that.
"Not so fast."
Ah yes...the boy. He had tasted sweet too, Tsuzuki. But he didn't have that
same thrill of darkness that you do.
"I challenge you, Doctor."
A thought...that child, challenging
me? Even in his new Shinigami body, he
can't defeat me. He tried, do you remember? But your feelings are changing; my
pull on your soul vanishing like
shadows as you focus all your attention on your
"rescuer".
Ah, Tsuzuki-san...Much as I would like
to continue this game between us, I have
taken it to its limits this round.
"If I win, you take back your dual
with the dealer."
I turn my head to look at him, glancing
over one shoulder and noting absently
that your hand is slightly unfocused
under the line of my glasses' clarity.
The
boy's pretty features are tight and set
in a hard line. He looked prettier
before, but all in all, he has changed
remarkably little in four years time.
Fear flits behind the anger in his
eyes, and I raise an eyebrow to it. All
this
time and still nervous about me? Such a child. What will be the prize if I
win, little one?
"You...You came to rescue
me?!"
Your voice is delighted, and
that...upsets me, somehow. You act as
though you
hadn't desired my touch a mere moment
before. Be honest with yourself,
Tsuzuki-san.
Still, the rules from before hold. Irritating as the intrusion might be, it is
welcome. After all, it is far better to take you when I can keep you,
rather
than to hold you for only a single
night and have to release you in the morning.
Besides…while force can be fun, I would
much rather you be willing.
I turn my attention back to the
boy. "Alright. I agree to that. After all,”
and this I murmur to you, "They
say anticipation is half the pleasure."
Something inside me laughs as you jerk
back and moan.
I leave you, pulling away from the hand
that still unconsciously clutches me,
and turn to face the little one
again. This game I will lose, for at
this
point, the price of winning is too
high.
I don't mind it, the loss of this
evening's enjoyment, not when I think about
what the future will bring. While I would have enjoyed myself, indeed,
enjoyed
myself a great, great deal, it is the
other game that we play that is more
important. This evening's hand of poker was merely a subset of that other,
all-consuming game, one that we will
begin again tonight. After I allow the
boy
to defeat me, that is.
It is said that anticipation is half
the pleasure, Tsuzuki-san. However, I
grow
tired of this game we
play...Anticipation is well enough, but I have been
waiting for far too long. I am ready for the other half of the
pleasure,
Tsuzuki-san. Are you?
I hope you are, Tsuzuki-san. I don't know how much longer I can wait.
author's notes:
Ne, ne. Muraki’s a pervert, innit he?
I kinda like him regardless…Show’s my
taste. *sweatdrop*
YnM doesn't belong to me, but I love it
anyway. This is my first YnM fic, but
please don't hold that against me. I know the story and characters fairly well
at this point, and their relationships
are fascinating. The odd connection
between Tsuzuki and Muraki makes me
wonder...Having just watched episodes 7-9,
and the all the interaction between
Muraki and Tsuzuki was very interesting.
Muraki definitely wants into Tsuzuki’s
pants. -.-;; But does Tsuzuki want
Muraki? I would say no, but he does spend a suspiciously large amount of
time
chasing after the good doctor, blushes
a good deal when he is around, and seemed
upset when he thought Muraki was
dead. And he does have that certain
deer-in-the-headlights reaction which
makes one wonder… All the same, though,
I
don’t think the two of them will be
hooking up any time soon. At least, I
hope
not, for Tsuzuki’s sake.
Poor Tsuzuki. He is my absolute favorite character in YnM, and he tends to
suffer more than any of the other
characters in the series. He doesn’t
get a
break in my stories either, it would
appear. I guess I just like angst too
much
to let him off the hook. *sweatdrop* Not that I think he has any room
to
complain. Compared to Draco and Seiji he's getting off remarkably
easy. ^_^
Also…as a note of explanation, Muraki
never refers to Hisoka by name, from what
I can tell, in either the manga or the
anime. It’s always ‘little one’ or
‘brat’. Muraki is his last name, by the way. His first is Kazutakai, if I
recall correctly. His grandfather’s first name I don’t
remember, but he was
probably known as Muraki-sensei in the
twenties, just as everyone’s favorite ice
cold bastard is now.
I love the song “My Favorite Headache”,
but I don’t have the foggiest on who
sings it. Kinda embarrassing… ^^;;