Tatsumi sighed restlessly under his covers. The peaceful quietness of his house would only last so long, and so this brief moment of respite should be enjoyed. Unfortunately, with the other occupant over an hour late, Tatsumi was having trouble sleeping.

Tsuzuki, for the first week he had been living in Tatsumi�s house, had always followed him home. Tatsumi never berated him for that, and actually enjoyed the attention. However, once when he had been working late he retuned home to find Tsuzuki camping out on his from step. The purple-eyed male even had a fire, marshmallows and a tent staked up.

It was then that Tatsumi discovered that Tsuzuki didn�t have a key. Ever helpful (probably feeling guilty from sticking Tsuzuki in a broom closet) Tatsumi had surrendered his spare key. And then Tsuzuki went back to the habits he had acquired when he had been living alone.

These days, Tsuzuki was staying out late doing things that Tatsumi was too afraid to imagine. Even with the salary cut he had gotten out of his already cut salary, Tsuzuki still found places that accepted payment in single yen coins. Just yesterday Tsuzuki had stumbled in Tatsumi�s house, singing a bar song that had made Tatsumi blush with an intensity never felt before, and then collapsed in a drunken stupor on Tatsumi�s kitchen tiles.

Tatsumi sighed in defeat as he shifted in his futon to face the one next to him. It still hadn�t been made from when Tsuzuki had stumbled out of it just that morning. The blankets were forlornly strewn across the futon, the pillow in the center of it; the futon itself looked cold, and for all practical reasons shouted the fact that Tsuzuki wasn�t where he should be.

Tatsumi picked his watch up from the pillow, and moved so the moonlight could stream in on it. Sighing, Tatsumi diligently returned it to its place and tried to find a comfortable spot in his warm futon.

Though he was worried, he was also tired. Tatsumi knew that being tired during the workday was like asking someone to fire him. Unfortunately one can only focus on sleep for only so long before they got bored to death. However, being bored was far more preferable to the horrid images that popped into his mind when he though of where Tsuzuki might have run off to.

The door slamming shut jerked Tatsumi out of not only the daze he had been in, but also the futon he had been resting on. As he waited in the eerily silent house, he summoned a shadow to twist about his outstretched arm in anticipation of some psycho killer stumbling through his bedroom door. If he strained his ears, he could hear heavy feet plod towards his room. As door to Tatsumi�s room groaned as it slowly opened, he got ready to pounce.

Tsuzuki, who was barely sober enough to walk, stumbled in. Tatsumi nearly collapsed from relief.

Tsuzuki, ignoring Tatsumi, nearly tripped on his bedding, before fishing out a discarded shirt of disputed ownership, and disappeared out the door. A few minutes later Tsuzuki returned, wearing only a shirt and boxers, before dumping the clothes he had been wearing at the foot of the futon, collapsing on top of the blankets, and ignoring the pained look Tatsumi was giving him.

Tatsumi waited, but Tsuzuki didn�t seem to want to move from his sprawled out position on top of the blankets with his pillow under his stomach. While letting out a sigh of one who has suffered too long for this, Tatsumi moved over to Tsuzuki�s bed.

He wasn�t exactly gentle when he yanked the pillow out from under Tsuzuki, nor was he kind when he tugged Tsuzuki�s head up enough to slip the pillow underneath it. But when he tried to pull the blankets out from an unresisting Tsuzuki, they were as hard to move as if Tsuzuki had simply dumped a load of bricks on them. Tatsumi gave up and settled for wrapping the thick covers around Tsuzuki. Somewhat satisfied with his work, Tatsumi returned to his own futon. Now that he knew Tsuzuki was relatively safe, he could sleep peacefully.

�Tatsumi?� Tsuzuki�s voice brought Tatsumi attention back to the drunken shinigami. �Are you awake?� Tsuzuki slurred, shifting in his cocoon.

�Yes.�

�Did you leave me any food?� Tsuzuki asked hopefully.

�If you had come home earlier then you might have been able to eat dinner with me.� Tatsumi informed Tsuzuki. �By the way, where were you?� Tatsumi asked, hoping Tsuzuki didn�t catch any inflection of concern.

�Bathhouse.� Tsuzuki shifted, snuggling deeper into his covers.

�A bathhouse?� Tatsumi asked. Well, it did make sense in an odd sort of way. Tsuzuki was clean, if sloppy, and he didn�t spend enough time at Tatsumi�s house to do anything besides the morning chores. Besides, if Tatsumi referenced to his list of prices (list?), bathhouses were cheap . . .

�It had a bar too.� Tsuzuki belatedly added, interrupting Tatsumi�s train of thoughts. �Maybe I had a little too much to drink.� He admitted around a large belch.

Though Tatsumi agreed with him, he didn�t say anything. Instead he was forming a new money-saving plan. �Next time, shall I join you?� Tatsumi asked, eagerly anticipating his water bill going down.

�You wouldn�t,� Tsuzuki yawned and seemed to find a better position that was not facing Tatsumi. �-Wouldn�t like it.� Tatsumi waited for Tsuzuki to elaborate, but the only sound to emerge from the opposite side of the room was steady breathing.

�Why not?� Tatsumi finally asked suspiciously.

�Hnnm?� Tsuzuki asked blearily. All the alcohol he had consumed at the bathhouse wasn�t doing wonders for his already tired body.

�Why would I not like the bathhouse?� Tatsumi asked firmly while watching the other man warily.

Tsuzuki shifted again so most of his face lighted by the beam of moonlight Tatsumi�s window offered. �It�s an adult place.�

Tatsumi stared at Tsuzuki in shock.

***

Hiding in his office, Terazuma shamelessly listened in on Chief Konoe�s and Tatsumi�s conversation they were having in the hallway. They were discussing Tatsumi�s favorite topic, Tsuzuki.

�The broom closet is not a satisfactory place for a shinigami of our department to work!� The chief informed the secretary.

�Unfortunately the only free spaces were the broom closet and the hallway.� Tatsumi replied firmly. �I would think you would find it more problematic if Tsuzuki-san was spread out on the floor in front of our offices.�

�What�s wrong with his office?� Konoe asked exasperated.

�Do you remember the reports we received from the various sections? The lengthy reports? I suppose we could return them to your office.� Tatsumi�s glasses glinted as he smiled secretively.

As predicted, Konoe went pale. �I see your point.� He condescended. Terazuma nearly burst out of his office to hug Tatsumi. Tsuzuki was stuck in the broom closet!

�However,� Konoe interjected into Terazuma�s thoughts. �Tsuzuki needs his own workspace. Just yesterday he was in my office begging for a light bulb.�

�There are no free offices.� Tatsumi replied. �There is nothing that we can do to give Tsuzuki-san his own office.�

�Then stick him with someone.� Konoe suggested. �Do you really need all that space for your office?� He asked Tatsumi.

Tatsumi nearly laughed. �I suppose that would be possible.� He admitted. �Though I am amazed.�

Konoe, who had been about to leave, turned back, �Why?� He asked suspiciously.

Tatsumi only smiled back. �I am amazed that you would trust Tsuzuki-san to be around the department bills.� He admitted innocently. �Considering his sloppiness, I would personally keep him far away.�

�Fine,� Konoe bit out. �Kurosaki-kun doesn�t have enough space in his office . . .� He thought for a moment. �Watari?� He suggested.

Tatsumi considered this for a moment. �Assuming the fact that they would be able to get work done together,� He began, �Tsuzuki-san would probably become Watari-san�s test subject.�

�Alright.� Konoe though. �Who would Tsuzuki be able to work with?� He asked speculatively.

Tatsumi adjusted his glasses, and smiled darkly. �I do believe that Terazuma-san has a bit too much space. Though I was planning on cutting his budget, I suppose if we put him and Tsuzuki-san together, our situation will work out.� Terazuma, who was still listening, couldn�t help but hear this.

To say Tatsumi and Konoe were surprised when Terazuma tore down his door was an understatement. To say Konoe was outraged at being casually shoved aside as Terazuma lunged towards Tatsumi was closer to the truth.

***

Watari patted his friend awkwardly on the head. Tsuzuki, who had wrapped his arms around the blonde shinigami, was still sobbing uncontrollably into Watari�s chest.

�Don�t worry,� Watari tried to comfort him. �Tatsumi can�t keep you in that horrible place forever.� He pointed out. �Just wait until he calms down enough to think rationally.�

Tsuzuki looked up from where he had been using Watari�s lab coat as a tissue. �Are you sure?� He asked desolately. Watari smiled and nodded. Tsuzuki managed a weak smile, and then blew his nose on Watari�s coat. Not noticing Watari�s look of disgust, Tsuzuki stood.

He struck a dramatic pose, one arm raised before him in a fist, the other one behind him in a claw. He stared with passion at the corner of Watari�s lab where a few spiders survived (somehow) Tatsumi�s cleaning sprees.

�You�re right Watari!� Tsuzuki shouted dramatically. 003 hid itself in Watari�s hair and quivered. �I can do this! We�ve not only helped old women cross the street, and conducted an investigation in a mall during a clearance sale; we�ve cleaned a gas station bathroom!� Tsuzuki and Watari shuddered at the thought of doing something like that again. (Tatsumi was not happy when they spent half the department budget on sake and candy) �We can both face the rest of today in a broom closet!� Tsuzuki determinedly strode towards the door.

�That�s right Tsuzuki!� Watari clapped Tsuzuki on the back. �Go get them! (There�s no �we� in this one.)�

It was then that the two shinigami heard a loud scream of horror, and then a loud crash. They both sprinted out of Watari�s lab and towards the noise.

When they reached the hallway outside Tatsumi�s office, they both stopped in shock at the scene they had run into. Terazuma was currently trying to break free of Konoe to attack Tatsumi, who was watching the two men in shock.

�Terazuma!� Tatsumi exclaimed in an outraged voice. �Please desist in your attempts to injure me!�

Watari ran to help Konoe restrain the struggling shinigami. Tsuzuki ran so that he was slightly in front of Tatsumi.

�Terazuma! What�s going on?� Tsuzuki asked plaintively. Terazuma glared at Tsuzuki with an intensity that nearly matched the one he had been giving Tatsumi. Tsuzuki, who was used to being glared at by Terazuma, watched him unperturbed.

�Do you have any idea what that . . . man is trying to do?� Terazuma demanded, jerking his head at Tatsumi. Tsuzuki shook his head.

After Terazuma told him, Tsuzuki simply stood there in shock. Terazuma snarled at Tsuzuki to either get out of his way, or do something about their situation. Tsuzuki responded by rolling his eyes to the back of his head and collapsing.

Tatsumi dropped the files he had been holding and catching Tsuzuki just before the purple-eyed shinigami crashed to the cold hard floor. Bills and reports rushed out of the files to flutter around the room.

***

Wakaba was returning from lunch. She was very put out that Terazuma hadn�t joined her, even when she had packed a special lunch for him. They had agreed to meet up at a cute little caf� that she liked. Instead she spent about forty minutes waiting for him to show before he finally had called and told her he had too much work.

Now, back at the Meifu, Wakaba, intending to give him a piece of her mind, turned to the hallway outside his office, getting ready to yell.

�TERA-� Terazuma�s name died on her lips as she observed the scene before her. With Watari and the Chief restraining Terazuma from pouncing on an unconscious Tsuzuki (she didn�t see any reason he�d be after Tatsumi), she could only assume that he had been picking on the poor shinigami again. It was a good thing that Tatsumi was there to protect Tsuzuki as Terazuma was doing a rather good job struggling away from the two able-bodied men restraining him.

�Hajime-chan!� She called out distressed, running towards the struggling trio. �I�m sure what ever Tsuzuki-chan did, he�s really sorry about it!� She tried to console him.

Watari, dodging a blow to his face, managed to grunt, �It�s Tatsumi he�s going for.�

�Tatsumi?�

�That bastard!� Terazuma snarled at Tatsumi. Tatsumi ignored him and was gently shaking Tsuzuki, trying to get him to respond.

Wakaba was very confused. �What�s wrong with Tatsumi?� She asked. �And if it�s Tatsumi, why is Tsuzuki unconscious?� Terazuma only snarled something that was best not heard. Wakaba reached out to pat Terazuma comfortingly, but stopped just in time.

�Why don�t we stop and work this out over tea?� Wakaba offered. Terazuma paused while considering this, throwing Watari and Konoe off balance, before shaking his head and continuing. �Hajime-chan!� Wakaba moaned.

�What�s going on?� A young adolescent voice asked from down the hallway. Tatsumi looked up from Tsuzuki to see Hisoka standing at the end, looking at the spectacle before them in disbelief.

�Kurosaki-kun.� Tatsumi greeted. �Please assist me with Tsuzuki-san. It appears he may not awaken soon. Perhaps he will respond to you.� Hisoka, more worried for Tsuzuki than anything else, slid past the struggling group to crouch next to Tsuzuki.

�What happened?� He asked Tatsumi. Tatsumi, who had given up shaking Tsuzuki, simply held his head off the cold floor.

�I believe he fainted.� Tatsumi replied. �He did not appreciate his new office. I had thought he would be pleased to be out of the broom closet.�

Hisoka was just about to ask where this new office was. However two female voices cut him off. �Hisoka-kun!�

Hisoka went pale, his hands grasping Tsuzuki�s shirt for support. An instant later, he was nearly knocked over as two warm bodies collided with his own.

�Hisoka!� Said a voice near his left ear. �What�s wrong with Tsuzuki?� The voice squealed.

�I don�t know!� Said a voice near his right ear. �What will Hisoka do?�

�Let�s watch!� The owner of the voice near his left ear snuggled up against his shoulder.

Hisoka simply sat there in cold shock. However, this did nothing to deter the two Hokkaido girls.

�Check his pulse!� Saya suggested.

�Make sure he�s breathing!� Yuma tugged worriedly on Hisoka�s arm. �I don�t know what we would do if Tsuzuki died!�

Tatsumi spoke up from Tsuzuki�s side. �Tsuzuki is already dead.� Tatsumi was worriedly brushing the hair out of Tsuzuki�s face, not bothering to watch their reactions.

�No!� Screamed both girls at the same time.

�He can�t be! He had so much to live for!�

�What will we do? What will Hisoka-san do? Poor Hisoka!� With that, both girls sympathetically hugged Hisoka, and then buried their faces in his shirt, sobbing much like Tsuzuki had been doing to Watari.

�He�s dead!� One cried out.

�Tsuzuki�s gone!� The other one chorused.

�Hello!� A voice called out. �We�re here for the department review!� And then two people rounded the bend in the corner, and stopped dead in their tracks.

At least their appearance had stopped other things as well. Terazuma had stopped struggling against Konoe and Watari, and the trio stared at the new comers in shock.

Watari carefully released Terazuma, and shook out his mussed up lab coat (which was still sticky from Tsuzuki�s earlier crying fit).

Wakaba stopped placating Terazuma and turned to the two new comers. Shyly smiling, she gave them a little wave.

The two Hokkaido girls stopped wailing, and though there were still squeaks of half suppressed sobs, they were mostly quiet.

Hisoka, who had been frozen throughout the whole ordeal, didn�t change at all.

Tatsumi looked up from Tsuzuki to regard the scene before him. Mentally sighing, he reminded himself not to let his attention get distracted again.

Konoe straightened his suit and tie. Walking over to the two people, he motioned for them to follow him. �Now, I�m sure we can work something out.� He began. Turning around to catch Tatsumi�s eye, he made a shooing motion. Tatsumi nodded. �Say, why don�t we settle this over some nice sake?�

�Terazuma-san. Wakaba-san.� Tatsumi called out as the chief left. �Please return to your respective offices and remain there for the remainder of the work day.� Before either of the two could object, Tatsumi had turned to the Hokkaido girls.

�Tsuzuki will be alright.� He promised them. They stopped short in mid sob.

�Really?�

�Are you sure?�

�Yes.� Tatsumi replied. �Please wait in the common room.� Tatsumi looked at Hisoka, who was starting to recover from the contact from Yuma and Saya. �Kurosaki-san, Watari-san, please move Tsuzuki into the medical center. Once he awakens, you may return home for the remainder of the day.�

No one had moved. Tatsumi sighed, and suddenly gave them his scariest look. �Now.� He said in a tone that broke no augments. Everyone moved as if he had threatened to dock the monthly paycheck (though Terazuma took the time to flip Tatsumi the bird). Soon, Tatsumi was alone in the hallway.

Tatsumi carefully started picking up the reports and bills off the floor, wincing as he noticed several supported dirt smudges.

***

Terazuma glared at Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki glared back, and slid an arm around his pastry protectively. Terazuma extinguished his cigar threateningly. Tsuzuki wrinkled his nose in disgust, but only clutched at his prize more fervently.

�Hajime-chan! Tsuzuki-chan!� Wakaba leaned into the room and smiled happily at the two.

Terazuma grunted in acknowledgment, but Tsuzuki, his pastries momentarily forgotten, smiled and waved. �Wakaba-chan!� He called out across the office. �How�s it going?� He asked.

Wakaba smiled and walked up to the two men. �I finally managed to get those reports done. Tatsumi sure is pushing us hard!� She sighed and shook her head wistfully. Tsuzuki nodded in agreement, his eyes going watery at the thought of the unfinished reports he still had to do. Terazuma glared at the space in front of him and grumbled something in agreement.

Wakaba proffered a small basket. �I had some time this morning, so I baked a little something for you, Hajime-chan.� She said happily. Terazuma managed a weak smile, accepting the basket. Lifting it up, he inhaled the rich aroma and sighed in appreciation.

Tsuzuki also sighed. �Ah, Wakaba-chan,� He shook his head. �Tatsumi won�t let me into his kitchen to cook.� He informed her regretfully. He inhaled the aroma wafting from the basket again.

�Good.� Terazuma called out from his side. Wakaba, after sampling one of Tsuzuki�s biscuits at an office party, was secretly agreeing with Terazuma.

�Um, yes, what a shame.� She agreed weakly with Tsuzuki.

Terazuma found his cake fork and started in on the delectable food. Wakaba happily smiled at him until she noticed Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki was staring at the cake with the expression of a starving puppy that had been kicked too many times.

�Hajime-chan!� She snapped out under her breath. Terazuma, the bit of cake in front of his mouth, stopped and looked at her in shock. Wakaba jerked her head towards Tsuzuki. Terazuma, knowing what this was leading to, shook his head emphatically. He didn�t quite suppress a yelp when she kicked him under the table.

Grinding his teeth, Terazuma pulled back his lips in what could have been a smile. �Sempai . . .� He struggled as he said that. �Would you care to-� He gave Wakaba a �Do I have to?� look. She nodded, no longer smiling. �-Share this with me?� He spat out in what sounded more like a threat than an invitation.

Either not getting the threat, or considering himself safe as long as Wakaba was there, Tsuzuki nodded emphatically. Terazuma handed Tsuzuki the fork with the decent sized chunk on it. Wakaba kicked him again. Sighing in defeat, Terazuma slid the basket over to Tsuzuki.

�Oh, guess what?� She asked happily. With bits of Terazuma�s cake on his face, Tsuzuki looked up. Terazuma, who had been looking at his desk dejectedly, also looked at her curiously. �Look what I got in the mail today!� She waved an envelope in front of them too fast for either man to make out what it said.

Tsuzuki said something unintelligible around Terazuma�s cake. Only a look from Wakaba kept Terazuma from hitting him over the head. �What is it?� Terazuma asked her while glaring at Tsuzuki.

�I won!� She cried out happily.

Tsuzuki tried to say something again. Again, it didn�t come out as any sound a human could make.

�What?� Terazuma asked again in exasperation.

�I can compete in the annual Christmas Meal Contest!� Terazuma gave her a puzzled look. Tsuzuki blinked, finally swallowed the mass of caked, and smiled brightly.

�Oh really!� Tsuzuki grasped Wakaba�s hands. �Tatsumi tried to enter that last year, but he didn�t get beyond the selecting process.�

Terazuma glared at Tsuzuki for interrupting Wakaba. �Process?� He asked Wakaba.

�You have to send in a recipe of your own to the Gourmet Committee, and if it�s really good, they�ll let you compete!� Wakaba informed Terazuma excitedly. �It�s a four day contest. First day, you have to prepare a breakfast, next lunch, then dinner, and finally desert!�

�I watched last year. Someone made some Apple Pie.� Tsuzuki, forgetting about his rivalry with Terazuma, wrapped an arm around his archrival�s shoulders, drooling at the thought of pie. �And it was brown, and had whipped cream, and chocolate, and apples, and ice cream, and a flaky pie crust and-� Tsuzuki sighed hungrily, drooling on Terazuma�s shoulder.

�GET OFF!� Terazuma shoved Tsuzuki hard, causing the purple-eyed man to crash to the floor.

�Hajime!� Wakaba exclaimed. Terazuma trying to wipe the excess drool off his shoulder simply shrugged.

Rubbing his shoulder, Tsuzuki pulled himself back into the chair. �Oh, wait!� He jumped off of the chair, knocking it over. �If you got one, maybe Tatsumi-� Tsuzuki cut himself off as he turned and rushed out of the office leaving a bewildered Terazuma and Wakaba behind.

***

It was a good thing that Tatsumi�s door was ever so slightly ajar. When Tsuzuki ran into it, instead of breaking down the door simply banged open. Tsuzuki, who was momentarily stunned from running into the door, tripped over the doorstop and landed on his face just before Tatsumi�s desk.

Tatsumi blinked at the dark figure that lay sprawled out on the space before his desk in pure shock. Hurrying around his desk (and silently cursing it for getting in his way) Tatsumi knelt by Tsuzuki�s prone figure.

�Tsuzuki-san, are you-� Tsuzuki jumped up, slamming his head in Tatsumi�s. Tatsumi jerked away an instant too late, and found himself holding his aching teeth. Tsuzuki moaned, holding his aching head.

Shaking his head experimentally (and ignoring the rattling sound), Tsuzuki finally managed to look up at Tatsumi.

�Did you get it?� He asked breathlessly.

Tatsumi furrowed his brow. �Did I get what?� He asked.

�The mail! The mail!�

Tatsumi glanced over to the unopened pile of letters on his desk. �Yes, Tsuzuki-san. I got the mail. May I assume that you came here for a reason other than to ascertain that?�

At that moment Wakaba came in. �Tatsumi-san!� She called out joyously. �Did you get it?� Tatsumi gestured at the table. Wakaba followed his arm. �But did you get �it�?� She asked emphatically.

�What are the two of you talking about?� Tatsumi asked frustrated. Wakaba waved her acceptance letter at him.

At once recognizing it, Tatsumi spun and rushed the few inches to his desk. He shuffled through the envelopes frantically, bills sliding off on to the floor just before Tsuzuki.

�Here it is!� Tatsumi was not one for bursts of emotions. After he held the envelope aloft, he seemed to calm down.

�Did you get in?� Tsuzuki asked, jumping up and down. �It may not be like last year.� He said. �Or the year before.� He added. �Or before that one, and that one . . .� Tsuzuki trailed off as he counted how many years the contest had been running, and how long Tatsumi had been rejected. Tsuzuki proffered fingers before Tatsumi. �It�s only been twenty times.� He promised the blue-eyed shinigami. �This time�s going to be different, I just know it!�

Tatsumi winced, nodded, and tore open the envelope. While Tsuzuki and Wakaba watched in anticipation, Tatsumi read the letter, nodded to himself, and folded it closed again. He discarded the envelope and placed the letter on the corner of his desk, well out of the reach of either of the two other shinigami. Retreating to the other side of the desk, Tatsumi dug out his account book, and proceeded to flip through the pages rapidly, his mind already back in work mode.

�Tatsumi!� Tsuzuki whined at him. �Don�t keep us in suspense!� He leaned over Tatsumi�s desk, reaching for the letter. Tatsumi quickly snatched it out of Tsuzuki�s reach.

�Tsuzuki-san, I regret to inform you that once again you will be seated alone in the audience.� Tatsumi told him solemnly. Tsuzuki�s face fell noticeably, and he nodded sullenly. �However,� Tsuzuki jerked his head up at Tatsumi�s voice. �I do hope you will wish me well before I try to use my poor culinary skills to impress the panel of judges.�

Tsuzuki lit up and threw himself across the desk to embrace Tatsumi. Unfortunately Tatsumi�s desk was too big; leaving Tsuzuki sprawled out on its surface. Tatsumi frowned down on him. �Tsuzuki-san, if you will excuse me, I need to get some work done today. Wakaba-san, please take him back to his new office.� Wakaba gave him an encouraging wink, pulling Tsuzuki out of Tatsumi�s office.

***

Tatsumi once again thanked himself for inviting Hisoka along too. As yet another bar distracted Tsuzuki, it was the youngest shinigami who berated him and dragged him after the other two.

Watari clapped Tsuzuki on the back encouragingly. �Don�t worry, after Tatsumi�s finished, we�ll all go to the bar.� Tsuzuki nodded, giving the bar one last longing glance.

�No, you won�t.� Tatsumi promised. �Both of you have had enough alcohol to drown in this morning.� Watari stuck his tongue out at Tatsumi�s back.

�What�s that?� Tsuzuki asked his attention caught by another store.

This time it was Tatsumi who grabbed him. �Tsuzuki-san, no!� He pulled Tsuzuki away from the offending store. �That store is the women�s department!� He chided Tsuzuki while coaxing the man away. �We will arrive at the contest soon.� As Tatsumi didn�t know exactly where the contest would be held, the whole group was relying on Tsuzuki�s directions to get them through the complex. Once again, Tatsumi wondered why they would be holding it in a mall.

�Turn here . . . I think.� Tsuzuki pointed towards the restrooms. Tatsumi hit himself on the head and groaned. Watari proffered the directions the letter had provided, and Hisoka tried to interpret them.

�We were supposed to turn left back there.� The group turned around and walked in the direction Hisoka was pointing.

Actually, Tatsumi wondered how they missed it. It was two double doors with in neon green paint, �Annual Bake Off Contest (contestants enter here)� written across the windows. Slightly perplexed at their inability to notice such things, the group of four shinigami entered the area.

Beyond the doors the room was built like a concert stage where Tatsumi and the contestants would be in full view of everyone from the rows of seats before them.

It turned out that the committee had accepted twice as many contestants as the place could hold, so each person would have to work beside another person. In other words, it was not only a contest to see if you could cook, but also a contest to see if you can keep the other person from sabotaging your culinary masterpiece.

�Don�t worry,� An administrator said when Tatsumi checked in. �The placement was randomly drawn. Tatsumi-san, your station is . . . let me see,� He shuffled through some papers before pointing to a corner. �Right over there.� Tatsumi thanked him and went to unpack his supplies.

�Say, Tatsumi!� Tsuzuki leaned over Tatsumi�s worktable. �The administrators let the audience help the contestants (and sample the food). Can I-�

The blue-eyed secretary got a look of panic about him. �No, really Tsuzuki-san, it is quite alright.� He made a shooing motion towards the bleachers. �I think Watari and Hisoka are waiting for you.� He smiled encouragingly at Tsuzuki.

�Are you sure-�

�Yes.� Tatsumi nodded, trying to protect his cooking supplies from Tsuzuki without really looking like it. �You need not be concerned for me.� He promised the shinigami.

Tsuzuki shrugged and turned around, nearly running into an administrator who was leading someone towards them.

�Here is your space.� He gestured towards the free area next to Tatsumi. Tatsumi ignored them, arranging his bowls and ingredients to a semblance of order. �Good luck, sensei.� The man smiled encouragingly at the new arrival before leaving.

Tatsumi�s new neighbor was turned, watching the administrator leave. Starting to turn, he said, �It appears we will be working together,� Tatsumi instinctively looked up at the sound of a familiar voice. Tsuzuki, who had maneuvered a few feet away from them, twisted around at the sound of a ceramic bowl clattering on the ground.

Tatsumi was staring at his new neighbor in shock, the hand that had been grasping the bowl now clutched at the air. His mouth was twitching between openmouthed surprise and a snarl.

Muraki was far more composed that the secretary. Instead, he simply blinked twice, shook himself, and warily set his supplies on the table. �Tatsumi-san.� He greeted. �You will forgive my manners of course. I must admit, I did not expect to encounter you here.�

�Of course not. Nor did I expect you to enter this contest.� Tatsumi�s face had gone cold and expressionless. Only his eyes had any emotion, and that was the cold fires of hatred.

Tsuzuki was also surprised to see Muraki. �Since when could you cook?� He demanded. Tsuzuki realized his mistake at once as he gained not only Tatsumi�s attention, but the doctor�s as well.

�Tsuzuki-san!� Muraki exclaimed happily, his smile showing more teeth than necessary. �Did you come here to watch?� He asked sweetly. Tsuzuki let out a high-pitched whimper, trying to maneuver away. �Or did you come to make up our date?� Muraki asked huskily, moving towards Tsuzuki.

�Please do not aggravate my coworker.� Tatsumi hissed, stepping between Muraki and Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki shot him a grateful look, hurrying off to the safety of Watari and Hisoka. Muraki gave Tatsumi a look that bode ill. Muraki glanced once at Tsuzuki�s fleeing form, and smiled.

�Of course Tatsumi-san. Do forgive my manners; I did not expect to behave so rudely.� Muraki turned his attention back to their worktable. Tatsumi gave him an evil look, returning to his supplies before Muraki could sabotage them.

Watari once again experienced the sensation of being a human Kleenex. Tsuzuki, wedged safely between him and Hisoka, sniffed fearfully on his lab coat. Hisoka awkwardly patted Tsuzuki on the head.

�Don�t worry, it�s only four days.� Watari promised. �And if anything goes wrong, we�ll know who�s behind it.� Watari narrowed his eyes as he watched the calm white figure of Muraki, and Tatsumi, who was shaking with suppressed rage. �Look, we�re here, Tatsumi�s there, he can�t do anything with out one of us noticing. And the second one of us sees anything suspicious . . .�

Tsuzuki smiled sickly. �I guess so.� Watari grinned and ruffled his hair. Hisoka simply buried his face in his hand and tried to pretend he didn�t know the two men next to him.

***

Tatsumi ground his teeth. �Your eggs are burning.� He informed the silver haired man, not taking his eyes off his hated enemy.

�I believe your pancakes are done.� Muraki said helpfully while matching glares with Tatsumi. His eyed didn�t even flicker towards his eggs.

Tatsumi wrinkled his nose in disgust, but kept his eyes locked on Muraki�s. Grinding their teeth, both men glared at each other while their breakfasts tried to combust.

Suddenly, simultaneously they twirled around and quickly fixed their food. Muraki flipped his bacon and eggs of the skillet, and placed them decoratively around the omelet he had just completed.

Tatsumi had a perfect square of butter on each pancake, and sparingly poured syrup on them. The sausages he had cooked framed the pancakes, and the crushed strawberries he had added gave it an aesthetically pleasing look.

Simultaneously, the two men signaled that they were done. Realizing what they had just done, they glared at each other again.

�I see you barely managed to salvage your eggs.� Tatsumi commented bitterly.

Muraki sneered back. �Why, your pancakes don�t seem to be too horribly burnt.�

While they were sniping at each other, the judge tasted their dishes. �Very good!� He told both of them, startling them. Before they could ask which one he meant, the judge was already meandering away to another table.

Muraki gave Tatsumi a smug look. �He seems to like my breakfast.�

Tatsumi gave Muraki a superior look. �He was over mine when he complemented it.� Ht reminded Muraki.

�Tatsumi!� Both men turned at the sound of Tsuzuki�s voice. �Good job.� Tsuzuki, (having temporarily forgotten about Muraki) smiled at Tatsumi. �I�ll see you later then.� He waved, going towards Watari.

�Wait!� Tatsumi called out. �Are you not leaving with me?�

Tsuzuki had the look of a fugitive. He hoped that he masked it quickly enough so Tatsumi didn�t see, but he wasn�t sure. �I was hoping to do something I�ve always wanted to do,� He giggled nervously.

�Oh?� Tatsumi asked darkly. �If you are planning on getting drunk-�

�No, it�s not that!� Tsuzuki reassured him a bit too quickly. �It�s just . . .� Tatsumi nodded encouragingly while Muraki (forgotten by both men) eavesdropped in on their conversation. �I�ve always wanted to . . .� Tsuzuki paused and took a deep breath. �Hit on hot chicks!� The expression of disbelief on Tatsumi�s face was eerily reflected on Muraki�s.

�Excuse me?� Muraki got his voice first. Tsuzuki jumped at the sound of his voice as if just realizing the doctor was there.

�You intend to pursue women?� Tatsumi asked incredulously. Tsuzuki backing away from the two men, nodded emphatically.

�With Watari!� Tsuzuki let out another nervous giggle, avoiding either man�s gaze. �Well, got to go, the really hot chicks might leave,� Tsuzuki twisted around and sprinted away from the two men, running to catch up with Watari. Hisoka was suspiciously nowhere to be found.

�Oh, dear,� Tatsumi remarked flatly. �All this time, Tsuzuki-san was interested in . . . that explains everything.� He hung his shoulders and dejectedly started to clean up his work area.

As he watched Tsuzuki hurry out the room through narrowed eyes, Muraki quickly formulated a plan.

***

Tatsumi was cooking like how he worked. With his glasses flashing in the light every few minutes, he grinned evilly as he brought his miso soup to a boil. Because Tatsumi was snapping at anything that moved (and quite a few things that didn�t), besides laughing maniacally, everyone gave him a wide birth. Once, when an administrator nearly upset his broth, it took both Watari and Tsuzuki to physically restrain him from attacking the poor official.

Muraki was surprisingly quiet, and other than a somewhat worried look every time Tatsumi had an outburst, more or less ignored the shinigami.

�Tatsumi?� Tsuzuki warily crept up to the two men. �Are you feeling better? You�re almost done.� Tsuzuki attempted a smile, which turned to an expression of outright fear as Tatsumi turned to him. The secretary pushed up his glasses, giving Tsuzuki the same dark expression that he wore when he had tried to jump the official an hour ago.

However, before Tatsumi could answer Tsuzuki�s innocent question, Muraki intervened.

�Tsuzuki-san.� Muraki nearly purred, stepping directly in Tsuzuki�s line of sight. �You seem exhausted.� At remembering that Muraki was there, Tsuzuki�s eyes widened until they were nearly the size of Hisoka�s. He whimpered, realizing too late that this foray was not one of his better ideas. Muraki stepped within reaching distance of Tsuzuki, and gently grasped his wrist. �Do you need assistance?� He asked genially.

�T-Tatsumi . . .� Tsuzuki whimpered.

�Tsuzuki-san, that person is not important at this time.� Muraki frowned before leaning forward slightly, stroking Tsuzuki�s cheek. �Do you wish to rest?� He asked, sounding concerned. �If so, as long as you do not mind waiting for a short while, I can provide you with ample space to do so.� Muraki chuckled throatily. Tsuzuki squeezed his eyes shut and shook from pure dread.

�Sensei!� Tatsumi�s voice broke the moment. �Please pay closer attention to your preparations. Your noodles are starting to dissolve in their solution.�

Muraki tore his gaze away from Tsuzuki to his dinner. Seeing that, surprisingly enough, the secretary was not lying, he reluctantly moved away from Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki sighed from relief. �Sankyu, Tatsumi.� He smiled at the other gratefully. Reluctantly Tatsumi returned the smile with a rueful one of his own.

�You should be more careful.� Tatsumi chided Tsuzuki gently. Tsuzuki glanced away and giggled nervously. �With things the way they are,� Tatsumi glanced over at Muraki, who was trying to save his noodles, �You might loose something important to you.�

�I suppose . . .� Tsuzuki wondered why that sounded so familiar.

Sighing in displeasure over Tsuzuki�s state of dress, Tatsumi reached out to straighten Tsuzuki�s collar. �Did you wake up late?� Tatsumi asked him.

�Yeah,� Tsuzuki shrugged as well as he could with Tatsumi trying to tuck the ends of his collar into the right places. �You didn�t wake me up this morning.� He accused.

�I was hoping to let you get some more sleep.� Tatsumi frowned at Tsuzuki�s collar as if he was daring it to move. �It has been a while since your last real vacation, and you seemed a bit tired last night when you came home at midnight.�

�I wonder how that could have happened . . .� Tsuzuki had the look of the hunted again for just an instant. At Tatsumi�s curious look, Tsuzuki hurriedly ran a hand through his hair and looked at the wall just behind Tatsumi�s collar. (Eye-level)

Shaking his head, Tatsumi started to redo Tsuzuki�s tie. �Did you rush out of bed just to watch the contest?� Tatsumi asked, tugging the tie.

�Yes,� Tsuzuki choked out. Much to Tatsumi�s displeasure, he reached up and yanked the tie down, back to the original position. �I wouldn�t miss this for the world.� Tsuzuki rethought that for a moment. �Well . . . if there had been a bakery on the way here, I might have been late . . .�

Pulling up Tsuzuki�s wrist so he could button the cuffs, Tatsumi chuckled slightly. �Please do not worry; I would understand if you were late. Besides, the beginning is probably boring to one who is not a contestant.� As Tatsumi went to work on the next cuff, Tsuzuki managed a shrug. �What do you intend to do tonight?� Tatsumi asked conversationally.

�Um, same as last night, I guess.� Tsuzuki shrugged again.

Tatsumi sighed dejectedly. �I see.�

�Really?� Tsuzuki asked worriedly. If Tatsumi figured out what he had been doing last night . . . wouldn�t he be angry?

�It is your life style. Though I do not believe it to be healthy for you, it is not my place to stand in your way.� Tatsumi tugged experimentally on Tsuzuki�s cuff.

�You mean . . . you don�t mind at all?� Tsuzuki asked, surprised.

Tatsumi gave him a sad smile, noting his head. �If it makes you happy, I will support you in anything you wish to do.�

�Really?� Tsuzuki asked happily. Tatsumi nodded again. �Sankyu Tatsumi!�

Tatsumi forced a cheerful smile. �What ever you wish for, Tsuzuki-san.�

***

After the second day ended, Muraki glanced around warily. Tatsumi had left a few minutes early, so the first part of his plan should go uninterrupted. Spying Tsuzuki heading for the exit, Muraki quickly moved so he could physically block Tsuzuki�s path.

�Tsuzuki-san, did you enjoy yourself today?� Muraki asked, slowly backing Tsuzuki away from the door.

Tsuzuki whimpered and tried to run around the taller man. Muraki countered his moves, still backing him up. After a minute of trying to dodge Muraki, Tsuzuki finally gave on reaching the doors Watari had just left, and focused his attention on Muraki.

Muraki smiled at him. �Please accompany me for a little bit.� Muraki held out his hand. �I wish to show you something.�

Tsuzuki went pale. �What?!�

Muraki gave him a smile that was more tooth than an actual grin. �Come with me, and you will find out.�

Tsuzuki twitched, and turned around to run away. However Muraki grasped his wrist at the last instant and nearly dislocated his shoulder.

Before he could force his mouth to work in a scream, he was being yanked out the building to the parking lot. Just as he was about to call out for help, he found himself stuffed in the back seat of a car. Because he was too busy trying to work the child safety lock, and banging on the tinted windows, he didn�t actually get a good look at his surroundings. Just as he was about to summon Souryu the car door was opened from the outside, and he tumbled out on the pavement.

He pushed him self up, ignoring the hand Muraki held out, and stood warily on the sidewalk.

�Where the-� Tsuzuki started, but cut himself off when Muraki gestured at a sign. Then he silently led the way towards the entrance to the hospital. Wondering why Muraki had just brought them there, Tsuzuki ran to catch up to the silent doctor.

After following Muraki through a maze of hallways, Tsuzuki abruptly found himself in the Maternity Ward.

�What�s going on?� Tsuzuki whined. Muraki turned and gestured for him to stand next to a window.

�Do you see that, Tsuzuki-san?� Muraki asked, sliding a hand up to Tsuzuki�s upper back.

Before them there was a woman giving birth. Tsuzuki glanced around. �Should we be watching this?� He asked nervously.

�Please watch this, Tsuzuki-san.� Muraki requested. �With most intimate relationships with women, men feel the need to procreate. This is the result of such an experience.� Muraki turned slightly to watch Tsuzuki�s reaction. He watched the woman with an expression of pain on his face.

�Some women can be in labor for over a full day. What pain they must feel.� He commented. �And if you are the father of such a child, you will be expected to accompany the woman. Please follow me.� Muraki abruptly turned and walked away.

�But-� When Muraki didn�t slow, Tsuzuki hurried after him. �Why are you showing-?�

Muraki stopped abruptly, forcing Tsuzuki to dodge to the side to avoid running into him. �Do you see this, Tsuzuki-san?�

A nurse was changing dippers. Tsuzuki whimpered again. Muraki turned to slowly entwine his fingers into Tsuzuki�s bangs. �Even after the birth, as a father, you would have more duties. Changing soiled clothing is simply the beginning.� Muraki then gently pulled Tsuzuki away.

When they reached a cafeteria like setting, Muraki motioned for Tsuzuki to sit. �As you can see, there are plenty complications to striking up relationships with women. Every time you and a woman join intimately, you would risk impregnating her. However, men together are different.� Tsuzuki was still blinking, seemingly oblivious to Muraki.

Muraki smiled gently, tracing his fingers across Tsuzuki�s wrist. �Do you not feel more comfortable near men?� He asked gently. �Perhaps that would be better for you. It may be different for other men, but with you and your line of work, it would be nearly impossible to care for a family.� Muraki sighed gently, brushing Tsuzuki�s hair out of his face. �Shall we leave?� Tsuzuki shot up, nodding emphatically. Muraki smiled benignly and led the way out of the hospital.

***

They were in front of a big building. Tsuzuki looked at Muraki quizzically. �Where are we?� He asked.

Muraki smiled back gently. �Please follow me.� Before Tsuzuki could respond, Muraki was already disappearing through the doors. Tsuzuki followed him, and stopped.

The building was a lecture hall, filled with women, making Muraki and Tsuzuki the only people with a Y-chromosome in the room. On top of a podium a woman was standing, giving a lecture that included shady looking men on a projector screen.

�Where are we?� Tsuzuki whispered loudly into Muraki�s ear. Suddenly the back row of women turned to shush him.

Muraki held up a finger to his lips and then pressed it to Tsuzuki�s. He smiled and turned back towards the speaker.

��and as you can see, these men wearing trench coats are quite dangerous.� The speaker concluded. Several women looked back and gave the two men a suspicious look. Tsuzuki glanced down, happy that Tatsumi was still working on sewing his coat back together.

�And now, let�s move on to the �pretty� boys.� The speaker continued, ignoring the two men. �You see a pretty face,� The whole back row of women began glaring at Tsuzuki, who shrunk towards the door under their scrutiny. �You fall in love. Things are all going well, but then what happens?� The speaker by then had noticed the two men, glared at them.

Tsuzuki stepped back towards the door, only to be halted by Muraki.

�Tsuzuki-san.� Muraki gripped his arm almost painfully. �I would have thought you would enjoy listening to a lecture from married women.� He murmured.

�Get me out of here!� Tsuzuki begged. The women shushed him.

�Tsuzuki-san,� Muraki smiled darkly. �I was hoping to stay here to ease my suffering of eating alone tomorrow.�

�How does this �ease your suffering�?� Tsuzuki growled back a bit too loudly. The speaker stopped talking, watching the two men.

Muraki�s smile never wavered. �Tomorrow when I eat alone, I can reminisce about today with you.� He pointed out.

Tsuzuki�s eye twitched as he realized what the doctor was getting at. He glanced at the women, who watching them impatiently gave him the courage (or cowardice) to voice his next question. �And what would happen if tomorrow I would join you?�

Muraki beamed happily at him. �Why then, I would enjoy eating dinner with you.�

Tsuzuki started backing out of the room again. �Well, then, can we leave?� He begged.

Muraki smiled and nodded. �Shall we go?� Tsuzuki nodded emphatically as the doctor led the two of them out of the building.

***

�Good morning, Tsuzuki-san.� Muraki greeted him the next day. Tsuzuki glared at Muraki. By the time the doctor had dropped him off near Tatsumi�s home, it had been dark, and all the bars had been closed. The fact he hadn�t had alcohol in over twenty-four hours grated on his nerves.

�Oh dear,� Muraki said when he got a good look at Tsuzuki. �You look like you are suffering this morning. Perhaps I could assist you.�

�No.� Tsuzuki replied darkly. �No, you won�t.� He growled. Muraki smiled benignly and shrugged helplessly.

�As you will have it, Tsuzuki-san.� He replied. �However, may I say that it is heartening seeing that you managed to arrive here before the contest started?�

�Uh . . .� Tsuzuki glanced around for Tatsumi. The secretary was not at the auditorium yet, leaving him a lone with Muraki.

�You do remember our engagement tonight?� Muraki asked conversationally as he rearranged his supplies.

�Engagement?� Tsuzuki yelled in outraged shock. The few contestants who were there that early decided to give him a wide berth.

�Our dinner engagement to which you agreed to accompany me.� Muraki reminded Tsuzuki gently, idly toying with a spoon he had just placed on the table.

�Oh yeah,� Tsuzuki quickly blocked the images of the lecture �Well . . . do we have to?� He whined.

�Tsuzuki-san, will you back out of a promise simply because events do not go to your preference?� Muraki asked in the same tone Tatsumi used when angry. �I truly had not expected this of you.�

Tsuzuki gritted his teeth. �Okay, okay. Dinner it is.� He watched Muraki suspiciously through his eyelashes. �What is dinner?� He asked warily.

�I was hoping we could eat the food I will cook for the contest.� Muraki replied. �I do hope you will like it.� Tsuzuki managed a grunt of acknowledgement.

�Tsuzuki-san.� Tatsumi said cheerfully from just behind Tsuzuki�s right side. Ignoring Tsuzuki jumping and clutching at his heart, Tatsumi had already turned to the doctor. �Muraki-san,� Tatsumi growled. �Are you continuing to harass my co-worker?

�Tatsumi-san.� Muraki greeted quietly. �Please do not worry. For now Tsuzuki-san is quite safe, and does not require your . . . protection.� Tatsumi glared at Muraki�s knowing look.

�Um, I�ll just be leaving now . . .� Tsuzuki was carefully backing up. As the two men turned to watch him, Tsuzuki quickly whipped around, stumbled over another workbench while running back to the bleachers.

�And now you scare him away.� Muraki remarked quietly.

�It is not me whom Tsuzuki-san fears.� Tatsumi pointed out no louder than Muraki had.

***

�I suppose you will be home late again?� Tatsumi asked. Tsuzuki nodded sadly, trying not to think about what would be happening soon. �Very well, I suppose I shall not leave you dinner?� Tatsumi asked. Tsuzuki, certain that he would not be in the mood for eating when he finally got home, shook his head. �I suppose I will head home now. Please enjoy yourself tonight.� Tsuzuki nodded sickly as Tatsumi left.

Tsuzuki waited, and just as he was going to give up on Muraki ever reappearing, cool hands gently grasped his shoulders. Hair that did not belong to him tickled his cheek as it slid past, and warm breath enveloped his ear. �Thank you for waiting.� Muraki�s lips brushed against Tsuzuki�s ear as he spoke.

Tsuzuki tilted his head away from the doctor, wishing Tatsumi could deal with this for him. Muraki chuckled so softly that Tsuzuki probably wouldn�t have heard it if Muraki hadn�t been breathing into his ear.

�Did you notice what I made?� Muraki asked quietly. Tsuzuki, his head still cranked at an angle, shook his head warily. �I hope you will still enjoy it,� Muraki continued. �I had you in mind when I thought of the recipe.� A gentle tug and Tsuzuki was warily following Muraki out of the auditorium.

�Do you mind eating out side?� Muraki asked. �I took the liberty of reserving a table so you could enjoy the sunset.� Tsuzuki grunted in a tone that could go either way. Right then, all he wanted to do was eat and run.

Unfortunately the table Muraki had reserved was on the opposite side of the building. By the time they got there, Tsuzuki�s feet hurt, and he felt as if he was going to fall asleep standing. However, his stomach growled at him warningly that if he passed up food, he would pay for it.

The balcony they were on overlooked a local park, and Tsuzuki was positioned so he could see random pedestrians moving around the park. The entrance to the balcony was positioned behind him, giving Muraki a good look at the tall glass windows and the ornate door.

The table had an organic look to it, as if there were rose vines growing up it to flatten out into the surface. The chair Tsuzuki sat in was comfortable, but he refused to relax. Tsuzuki glared across the table at Muraki, who was arranging the meal to a perfection that only Tatsumi could rival.

�Do you mind only eating the main course?� Muraki asked Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki blinked at him confusedly, shrugging indifferently. �Good.� Muraki set the meal on top of the table, directly in front of Tsuzuki�s line of sight. Seeing Tsuzuki�s wide-eyed look, Muraki frowned worriedly. �Do you not like crab?� Muraki asked.

Tsuzuki shook himself. �Crab?� He asked excitedly, not waiting for Muraki�s nod. �You made crab?� His eyes shone as he took in the meal before him.

�Do you not like crab?� Muraki asked again.

�Oh, no, I like it a lot. It�s just that I�m eating with you.� Tsuzuki�s mouth watered as he took in the delicious salty aroma.

Muraki frowned at Tsuzuki, before taking a seat across the table. �I�m glad that you at least like the meal.� Muraki finally spoke. Tsuzuki, who was trying to work the meat out of the shell, nodded happily.

After spending several minutes watching Tsuzuki eat without abandon, Muraki started getting bored. Oh, watching Tsuzuki stuff his face was an interesting learning and all, (his many medical text books said that no one should be able to swallow that much whole) but he had been expecting more from the dinner together than simply eating.

Muraki pressed his lips together as he absently toyed with the rim of his teacup. If Tsuzuki had not told him about his newfound preferences, Muraki would have already been flirting with the purple-eyed shinigami long before they reached the balcony.

And then, something was wrong. Tsuzuki never seemed to be attracted to women before. Then again, as he had not shown a preference for either gender, the discovery was not as surprising as it would have been.

�Tsuzuki-san,� Muraki�s voice halted Tsuzuki while he was halfway shoveling food into his mouth. �May I ask you a question?�

�Like what?� Tsuzuki asked around a mouthful.

Muraki thought for a moment as if searching for the right words. �Since when have you . . . had a preference for women?� He asked after a long wait.

Tsuzuki choked down his mouthful. �What do you mean?� Tsuzuki asked, helping himself to another crab.

Muraki narrowed his eyes at Tsuzuki. �Before, from all the situations you are in, I would have assumed you preferred the company of men.�

Tsuzuki shrugged. �Doesn�t every guy?� He asked. �I keep on hearing stuff from other guys on how lucky I am to be around lots of guys like . . . Watari and . . . okay just Watari.�

Muraki massaged the bridge of his nose with two fingers. �What group of people do you associate with whom tell you this?� Muraki asked warily.

�Just some people from outside the office that are part of the company.� Tsuzuki thought for a moment. �Yeah, just those people. The others don�t really care, so,� Tsuzuki shrugged. �Why?�

�It is just that I . . . never mind.� Muraki absently started to clean his glasses. �Shall we discuss another topic?� He asked.

Tsuzuki�s suspicions suddenly came back in a rush. �Like what?� He asked, giving Muraki a wary look through his bangs.

�Have you been enjoying the past few days?� Muraki asked innocently. Tsuzuki blinked the dying rays of light glinting off his eyes.

�I�ve got nothing to complain about.� He replied warily, not knowing what Muraki could be getting at.

�That is good.� Muraki gave him a tired smile, which lessened the shadows under his brow, making him seem younger. �What do you wish to see done for the last day?� Muraki asked.

Tsuzuki gave him one last suspicious look before launching into thought. �Well, chocolate . . . oh!� Tsuzuki smiled at the mental image. �Some one always makes an apple pie!� Forgetting for a moment that Muraki was sitting across from him, Tsuzuki beamed at the imagined smell of a mouth-watering slice of Apple Pie. �Last time someone did it with whipped cream, chocolate shavings, strawberries . . .� Tsuzuki shook himself out of the wonderland he had created.

�That sounds very . . . nice.� Muraki remarked sickly, envisioning the sugary mass that one would have to stomach to get close to Tsuzuki.

�Since when could you cook?� Tsuzuki suddenly asked around a mouth full. He gave Muraki�s surprised look a dark look of suspicion.

�I learned these skills from our family chef a long time ago.� Muraki replied evenly. Tsuzuki raised an eyebrow, to which Muraki nodded. �My experience has taught me that having skills in more than one area is a desired trait in one such as my self.�

�Why?� Tsuzuki asked confusedly.

Muraki smiled darkly at Tsuzuki. �Do you not appreciate one who can cook?� Muraki asked, nudging Tsuzuki�s food suggestively. �Besides, our chef would not voluntarily add poison to the meal.�

�What!� Suddenly Tsuzuki didn�t know which thing to pay attention to.

Muraki calmly sipped his tea, one hand going under the table to rest on Tsuzuki�s thigh. �I was raised with the ideals that one could not be too careful.� The fingers resting on Tsuzuki�s thigh idly traced his kneecap. �As I have demonstrated in the past, I can withstand most common types of poison.�

Tsuzuki weakly pushed the hand off his kneed, feeling sick.

Muraki smiled at him, and brought his errant hand above the table surface. �Is everything alright, Tsuzuki-san?� He asked, reaching down to run a finger over Tsuzuki�s wrist.

Tsuzuki whimpered.

***

When he woke up, he decided it was better keeping his eyes closed. The fuzzy feeling that seemed to penetrate him from all sides was as warm as the sun on his face. This time, his head was actually on his pillow, which, he discovered, was quite soft and comfortable. Sighing contentedly, Tsuzuki started to roll over.

Wait a minute; something was not right.

Tsuzuki furrowed his brow, and tried to roll over again. He made it halfway between his back and side before once again collapsing on his back.

He knew he should call out for Tatsumi for help. But when Tsuzuki opened his mouth, the quilt pressed between his lips, blocking most of his air intake. When he tried to scream, the only sound he could make was a strange �mmpf�.

Tsuzuki twisted around, struggling to free himself from the confines of his futon. He soon found that when he twisted his head to an anatomically impossible angle, he could breathe freely.

�Tatsumi!� Tsuzuki called out, still struggling. �Tatsumi, help me!� His voice echoed through out the empty house. There, one shoulder was free. �Tatsumi, I�m not joking this time!� Tsuzuki promised.

The silence of the house pressed down around him like a weight.

�Tatsumi!� Tsuzuki�s voice cracked as he screamed even louder, his hand nearly ripping open the futon as it managed to free itself. Quickly, he managed to untangle the top sheet, freeing most of his upper body. �Tatsumi~i!�

By now Tatsumi should have been there to help him, or at least gag him from screaming any more. So, Tsuzuki concluded that Tatsumi wasn�t in the house. But as it was the last day of the contest, he didn�t know where Tatsumi could be.

Tsuzuki struggled to free his legs from the confines of his futon before collapsing from pure exhaustion over Tatsumi�s neat, orderly bed. It was so comfortable that Tsuzuki probably would have fallen asleep like that if there hadn�t been something hard and blocky under his head.

Reluctantly Tsuzuki lifted his head and stared at the hard object that was interrupting his sleep. Sighing, he pressed his face into Tatsumi�s futon. Of course, it would have been Tatsumi�s clock that wouldn�t let him sleep.

Wait a minute . . .

Tsuzuki lifted his head and scrutinized the time again. Then his eyes grew wide and he jumped up, struggling free of the last of his futon. His favorite day of the contest was almost over!

***

Watari caught Tsuzuki as he tripped in the door way and almost fell on his face.

�Are you okay?� Watari asked worriedly. Tsuzuki, who was gasping for breath after sprinting for a couple of miles, barely managed a nod.

Watari frowned, unconvinced. Suddenly, he brightened up. �Don�t worry! We�ll just go to another bar and you�ll feel better!�

�B-but the contest . . .� Tsuzuki whined. Watari gave him a surprised look.

�The contest ended a couple of minutes ago.� Watari told him. �Most of the contestants have already left.�

Tsuzuki had a look of horror about him as he gazed at Watari in disbelief. �No, it can�t be! I know I got up late, but . . . I couldn�t have missed it-�

�Tsuzuki-san, you managed to arrive.� Tatsumi noted, walking towards the two men. �I was worried when I could not see you at the beginning of the contest.�

�Tatsumi!� Tsuzuki accused, giving Tatsumi a puppy look. �You didn�t wake me up.�

�As you arrived home late last night, I felt it wise to give you ample opportunity to sleep.� Tatsumi replied evenly. �Please wait with me as the awards are being announced. As I do not know how well I have scored the past four days, I would like to find out how well I managed to do.�

Tsuzuki opened his mouth to sullenly agree to Tatsumi�s request, when suddenly a cool hand slid across his cheek. �Tsuzuki-san, I am happy to see you here today.� Muraki breathed into his ear.

�Muraki-san!� Tatsumi snarled, quickly pulling Tsuzuki away from the doctor. �Please restrain yourself, doctor.� Muraki only sneered back at him dangerously.

�Tsuzuki-san,� Muraki grinned evilly, still locked in a glaring match with Tatsumi. �I made you apple pie.�

Tsuzuki was about to back away with Watari when he stopped. �Apple pie? Really? Where?� He asked excitedly, forgetting about Muraki.

Muraki grinned triumphantly at Tatsumi�s outraged expression. �Right this way.� Muraki abruptly broke off eye contact with Tatsumi and led the way to their workspace.

On it was the most warm, deliciously mouthwatering apple pie ever to grace Tsuzuki�s presence. Tsuzuki didn�t bother to wipe the drool off his chin.

�Tsuzuki-san,� Tatsumi grabbed something from his section of the worktable. �Here, I made you your favorite type of candy.� Tsuzuki looked, and saw that it was true. Wiping the spittle off his chin, he stepped towards Tatsumi.

Muraki inhaled the aroma coming off his apple pie and made a pleased sound. Tsuzuki, hearing that, started back towards the apple pie.

�I made these with the fruity filling you liked.� Tatsumi promised fervently. Tsuzuki started back towards him.

�Who cares about this?� Watari exclaimed. He grasped the back of Tsuzuki�s shirt. �Here, let�s go to that one bar that we went to yesterday.�

�What?� Muraki gave the interloper a strange look. He hadn�t really noticed the blonde shinigami before now.

�Bar?� Tatsumi asked in a dangerous tone. Tsuzuki looked up confusedly.

Watari was downright quivering. �Er . . . yeah . . . lots of chicks seem to like it . . .� He laughed weakly.

�All this time, you and Watari-san were at a bar?� Tatsumi asked Tsuzuki.

�Well, yeah,� Tsuzuki scratched the back of his head.

�You know, you could just ask me-�

�You told me you were trying to seduce women, when you were actually going out to bars?� Tatsumi growled.

�But you said that my lifestyle was okay!� Tsuzuki said emphatically. Then he paused. �I said I was going to seduce women?�

�Yes.� Muraki said from Tsuzuki�s other side. �Though you used more crude language, the meaning was quite clear.�

Tsuzuki flinched back from Muraki. When he realized that he had gone towards Tatsumi, who was shaking from repressed rage, he jerked back. Watari, against his back, more or less vibrated against him. Tsuzuki whimpered pitifully.

�Um, I don�t remember saying that, but okay . . .� Tsuzuki giggled nervously. �Well, there�s nothing wrong with that, and you two didn�t help me by saying you thought I was after chicks.�

�Why did you think I brought you to those places?� Muraki asked looking over Tsuzuki like one would a piece of sizzling steak.

�Um . . .� Tsuzuki looked around for a savior.

�Congratulations!� The four turned to see a judge standing behind them. �You two managed to get into the top three!� He exclaimed.

�We did?� Tatsumi asked, all anger gone.

�Yes.� The judge fished around for an envelope.

�If I may ask, what place did the two of us receive?� Muraki fingered Tsuzuki�s already loose tie.

�You both tied!� The judge replied happily, handing them their envelopes. The two men first stared at the judge in shock, and then glared at each other.

Tatsumi wasted no time into opening his envelope. �I received . . . second place?� Tatsumi blinked at his certificate. �And my prize is a free meal for two at this restaurant . . .?� He sighed dejectedly. �I lost to him.� He glared at Muraki.

Muraki smirked back and opened his envelope. �I also received second place.� Muraki frowned at his certificate.

�Well, I just said you both tied.� The judge replied, exasperated.

�If I may ask,� Muraki began. �Who won this contest?�

�Oh?� The judge flipped through his files. �A . . . Wakaba Kannuki.� He replied.

�Wakaba-san?� Tatsumi adjusted his glasses, and looked across the room where Wakaba and Terazuma were eating cake. �I did not expect this.� He sighed, and then turned back to Tsuzuki. �Shall we . . .� He began.

The area where Tsuzuki and Watari once were was now empty.

***

Tatsumi says:

Before us stands Tatsumi. He is in what appears to be a well-kept office. He leans forward to give the camera a penetrating glare.

�The lesson for today is,� He leans back in his chair so that he is sitting up straight. �Do not attempt to bribe a person.� He smiles evilly. �Throughout this story, Muraki tried to expose Tsuzuki to the worst situations he could find that involved other people. After this, he took Tsuzuki out to dinner, attempting to expose the best situation, that is, with him.�

For a moment, Tatsumi goes into �scary face� mode, but he quickly comes out of it. �As you can see, this did not work.� (Maybe it had something to do with the fact Tsuzuki had lied to them . . .) �As you might be able to tell, I am strongly against bribery.� (Wait a minute here . . .)

Tsuzuki comes in. �Hey, Tatsumi, I put in the paper work for my vacation, but you still gave me an assignment!� He complains.

Tatsumi turns to him, smiling innocently. As Tatsumi and innocent don�t really go all that well together, it looks more like he�s planning on eating Tsuzuki. �Tsuzuki-san, I do apologize for this inconvenience, please let me fix this now.� Tatsumi starts digging through his paper work. �It is a shame though, I had hopped you would accompany us on the company vacation this year.�

Tsuzuki blinks worriedly. �Huh? But I am going on the company vacation. I just have this saved up, and I want to spend it before the year is over. It�s been a while since I�ve gone to the Gensoukai.� He says worriedly.

�And after you come back from your vacation, you will have to do this assignment then, and miss out on the company vacation.� Tatsumi replies gently. As Tsuzuki�s eyes get wider, Tatsumi shakes his pen. �I apologize, but my pen does not seem to be working. Might I borrow one from you?� Tatsumi asks sweetly.

By now Tsuzuki has gone �sheet white�. �Oh, no, that�s okay. I�ll just start on this assignment now . . .�

�Are you certain?� Tatsumi asks gently. �It would be quite simple to delay your-�

�No, no, I�m quite sure, thanks!� Tsuzuki smiles and waves good-bye before he runs out the door.

Tatsumi smiles and with his �not-working� pen, jots down a few notes. �Yes, I do not believe in bribery at all.� He assures the camera. �However black mail, though illegal, is quite a good source of funds.� He smiles, and the camera is turned off.

(Wait, no Touda?)

Author�s notes: Well, it�s interesting what can come out of your head when you�re studying for finals and listening to the theme to Funny Farm.

Please send all �tips� to

Tatsumi Seiichirou
ShoKan Office #2
Juuoucho Enmacho 66666
Meifu

End of Part 4