Though I really do enjoy torturing the various characters, Yami no Matsuei isn't mine. For that matter, neither is Alice in Wonderland.

As for any OOC, you try to do a crossover with Yami no Matsuei and Alice in Wonderland and see how in character you can keep everyone!

This is set before the Kyoto Arc, and contains spoilers for the Queen Camellia Arc

Warning: If my wording sounds a little weird, blame it on Lewis Carroll.

Muraki vs. Wonderland: Will Our Psycho Doctor go Insane?

Written by The Webmaster ([email protected])



Muraki watched the street through narrow eyes as he sipped his tea. The fine summer day that could only happen once every millennium, though surprisingly frequent in cartoon shows, was a bit too disgustingly bright for one who wasn't wearing sunglasses.

Of course Muraki couldn't miss the dark figure hurrying past him. As it wasn't as bright as nearly everything else around him, it was a balm to his sore eyes. The fact that it was Tsuzuki only increased its loveliness. Carefully setting his tea cup on a convenient table, Muraki strode briskly after the lone shinigami.

Tsuzuki paused near an alley, leaning against a wall to catch his breath. "Late," he gasped. "I'm late . . . late . . ." Before Muraki could reach out to touch him Tsuzuki abruptly pushed himself away from the wall and stumbled into the alley. Undaunted, Muraki hurried after him.

The empty alley was not encouraging.

As far as Muraki could tell, Tsuzuki hadn't noticed him and therefore shouldn't be hiding in the trash. Still, there was no predicting what the purple-eyed man might do when Muraki wasn't controlling the events. Needlessly straightening his pristine trench coat, Muraki stepped into the alleyway.

The world suddenly twisted around Muraki, the trash and walls writhing as if they were alive. This surprised Muraki enough to force him to take a step back, and the world settled back where it belonged.

Muraki pressed his lips, observing the alleyway intently. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. Looking into it, one could only see enough reeking piles of trash to discourage anyone from willingly entering it. The fact that there was nothing to warrant the reaction Muraki had just observed was quite unsettling.

Still, it was no illusion that Tsuzuki had gone this way . . .

Steeling his breath Muraki stepped forward, and watched the world around him writhe and flicker.

Another step, and not only did world start squirming around him, there also appeared to be a shadowy form before him.

Another step and the world became a wet painting with the paint running down the canvas.

Another step and the shadowy form grew into an archway.

Another step and he was nearly inside the pitch-black archway.

Another step, and he was lost.

Despite the fact that he could only feel the floor beneath his feet, Muraki blindly continued forward. The sound of the floor echoing hollowly with each foot fall was surprisingly comforting. Suddenly a bright light flashed before him, and then there was no floor.

***

Sakura petals fell from the sky as rain, fluttering around him. One landed on his glasses, abruptly startling Muraki out of his daze. He found that he was lying on a soft, sakura petal strewn ground, with no damage from his apparent fall.

Shaking some of the petals out from his hair, Muraki glanced around at the scenery. He appeared to be in a grove of sakura trees, but a little beyond was a large white building. Muraki quickly stood, brushed some of the petals off his once pristine coat, and strolled towards the white building.

Though he supposed he could go around the building and use the front, there was a convenient door placed before him. As Muraki didn't see a reason as to not use the door, he simply opened it, and sauntered in.

He found himself in a long, narrow passageway lit by candles. Giving it a suspicious look, Muraki slowly moved forward, disquietly eyeing the walls.

Another turn, and suddenly he was in a well lit hallway, with modern lights adorning the ceiling and doors on either side of the walls. Curiously, Muraki turned, only to see that behind him was more of the hallway. Muraki blinked suspiciously before turning again and heading forward.

He noticed that the doors had nameplates on them. The first one on his left said `Chief Konoe', and on his right said, `Tatsumi Seiichirou'. Uncharacteristically hesitant, Muraki tried the `Chief Konoe' door knob. It was as unmovable as if it had been welded shut.

"Locked;" a voice from behind him chirped. Muraki whirled, only to find a little owl fluttering before him. "Locked, locked, locked-"

Irritably, Muraki batted at it.

The little owl let out a squeak as Muraki's hand collided with it, and then collided with the `Tatsumi Seiichirou' door. Feathers were loosened as it picked itself up and continued to flutter around Muraki, this time well out of arm's reach.

"Irritable bird," Muraki growled at it. "What is it?"

"Is it?" the owl repeated.

Muraki glowered at it. "If my Asato-chan was here," he mused darkly. "She would eat well today."

The owl squeaked, quivered in mid-air, and fluttered off. Muraki, oddly pleased, turned to continue in the direction he had been going.

He paused, disorientated at the dark figure of Tsuzuki's back that had seemingly materialized during his confrontation with the owl. Muraki glanced around, wondering where Tsuzuki had come from. His eyes focused on the door with the word `restroom' written on it, and then he understood. Smiling slyly, Muraki sauntered towards the oblivious shinigami.

"Tsuzu-" he began with relish.

"Hisoka!" without turning around Tsuzuki abruptly cut him off. "Good, there you are. Could you grab the document from my office?"

"Tsuzuki-" Muraki tried again.

"Thanks!" Tsuzuki called out over his shoulder at Muraki as he hurried off toward the double doors at the end of the hallway.

Though Muraki would truthfully enjoy following the hapless shinigami, the thought of several shinigami lying in wait beyond the double doors made him pause. No, it would not be good to try to seduce Tsuzuki with an audience.

Muraki smiled as another thought entered his mind. Turning, he ambled towards the doors behind him, carefully watching the names.

Ah, yes, there it was, the door with `Tsuzuki Asato' printed on it. The fact that it was unlocked only heightened Muraki's glee as he entered the room.

Muraki blinked at the little old man who was sitting on the desk. As the little old man's overgrown eyebrows covered his eyes, Muraki doubted the little old man even knew he was present. However, when the little old man jumped up and ran over to Muraki, Muraki quickly changed his mind.

The little old man began to pat him in indecent places, mumbling something incoherent. With a well placed kick, Muraki sent the little old man flying through Tsuzuki's window. Smoothing out his wrinkled coat, Muraki looked around Tsuzuki's unkempt office. As he was having difficulties being in such a dirty place, Muraki decided to try to find an escape route.

He exited Tsuzuki's office, and quickly strode down the hallway. He paused before an open door to his right, and glanced in.

Surrounded by comfortable looking chairs was a large table with a big cake in the center. A man was in the corner, puffing furiously on a cigarette. Before Muraki could move away, the man noticed him.

"Hey, you!" the man called out. "Are you the newbie?"

"Excuse me?" Muraki asked darkly. "Am I new to what?"

"The Meifu Bureau?" the man growled in an annoyed voice. "Are you slow or something?"

Muraki had to take a deep breath before he could speak. "No, I am not," he growled back.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Really?" The man puffed on his cigarette, continuing before Muraki could answer. "So, who's your partner?"

"As I am not dead and, therefore, not a member of your bureau, I have no partner." Muraki replied as if speaking to a slow child.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Did you fall and hit you head when you died?" he asked innocently. "If you are not dead, what are you doing here?"

"I do apologize, but that is not of your concern," Muraki replied darkly.

The man gave him a perturbed look. "You sound like Tatsumi." he accused suspiciously. "Is this some twisted joke of his?" The man flicked his cigarette on the floor near Muraki's foot.

"Well then, Mr. Alive," the man growled at him. "Why don't you go back to your own world of living?" Before Muraki could say anything, the man brushed past him and out the door. After surveying the room one last time, Muraki exited the room.

As he turned to continue down the hallway, the floor beneath Muraki's left foot moved. Muraki jumped back, frantically searching the floor.

A little zombie with a face that looked like it was melting turned to him and bowed before scurrying towards a door near the end of the hallway. It knocked on the door, and after a loud crashing noise, a blonde man poked his head out, glanced around quickly, shrugged, and closed the door. The little zombie wasn't deterred though, and knocked again. This time as the door was flung open, the little zombie managed to grab the edge of the blonde man's coat and yank it hard.

"Oh, sorry Watson," the blonde man called out. "I didn't see you down there!" Watson, the zombie, held out a card. "This is an invitation to a tea party?" the blonde man eyed it intently. "Thank you," he told Watson, stepping back in while pulling the door closed.

Watson was about to scuttle away, when he suddenly stopped. Muraki, from his vantage point in the middle of the hall, could see quite clearly what the problem was. When the blonde man had closed the door, Watson's coat had gotten shut into the frame. The little zombie yanked at it, but his coat would not pull free of the door.

Feeling uncharacteristically kind, Muraki moved forward towards the little zombie. He paused to look at sign on the door. `Chemistry Laboratory' was the only clue he had as to what laid within. Opening it, and letting Watson free, Muraki curiously entered the room.

The chemistry laboratory was made up of tables with unlabeled fluids in various beakers. In the center of the room, the blonde man from before was crouched over a rather large pot. Muraki couldn't tell if he was taking something out, or putting something in. In a shadow created by a cabinet of more chemical substances, was a tall, dark man that Muraki could hardly make out. The only reason Muraki noticed him was by light that reflected off his hair tassles every time the man shifted.

"Hey," said the man in the middle of the room. "Who are you?" Muraki opened his mouth to reply, but the man continued before he had a chance. "I'm Watari, the resident chemist!" Suddenly the blonde man stood, threw his head back, and started laughing manically, the lights glinting off his glasses.

"Anyways," Watari said, returning to normal. "Could you watch the pot for me?" he asked hopefully.

"I do apologize, but I am quite busy and cannot-"

"Thanks!" Watari picked up the pot and chucked it at Muraki. Muraki threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the missile. Miraculously, the pot was undamaged, and rolled on its side to the corner where the other man lurked.

Ignoring the pot, Watari hurried past him, and dogged out the door before Muraki could stop him.

Muraki sighed dejectedly. "And where to now?" he asked himself.

"That depends," the man from the shadowy corner slowly stalked out. "Where do you want to go?"

Muraki was taken back on how well this man resembled Oriya. The only differences were that neither had Oriya's hair been that long, nor had Oriya ever glared at him with quite the intensity as the man before him.

Just as Muraki was deciding that the glower might not have been from annoyance, but the man's natural expression, the man spoke. "Little shinigami," he began steadfastly. "I am not a shikigami who will calmly wait for an answer that will take you an hour to give."

Deciding that it might not be a good idea to get angry at a shikigami, Muraki drew a deep breath before speaking. "Would you tell me the way to this Tea Party?" he asked, grinding his teeth.

The man helpfully pointed at the door. Muraki waited expectantly. "Go right, and across from the common room is the exit. Go to the Castle of the Candles."

"Thank you." Muraki was proud of the manners he had grown up with, and was not about to abandon them just because of one rude man. Turning, he headed back the way he had come from.

***

Once again he came to the open door, and was about to turn away from it when high pitched voices emitting from the room beyond the open door caught his attention. Somewhat curious, he pushed open the door and strode into it.

Muraki knew he should be somewhat thankful that the brat was asleep. If he was awake, Muraki would have been found out, and it would have been very hard for him to escape with Tsuzuki. However, it was difficult not to laugh at the sight of Hisoka wrapped up in pink ribbons.

Two girls on either side of him were chatting in annoyingly high pitched voices. When Muraki entered the room, they looked up and waved.

"Hello, are you new?" the girl with short hair asked.

"You must be overwhelmed," the girl with long hair commented.

Muraki watched the two girls intently before answering. "Yes, I am quite overwhelmed," he lied flawlessly. The two girls motioned for him to sit, and he did so.

"Who's your partner?" the girl with long hair asked quietly. Muraki shook his head, letting the long graceful strands of silver hair slide across his face.

"I do apologize, but as of yet, I have none." he replied.

"Unassigned?" the girl with short hair asked loudly, almost waking up the boy between them. "Feel lucky, soon you'll have a partner and you'll have to work!"

"Maybe Tsuzuki-san will be his partner," the girl with long hair commented.

"Yeah, Hisoka-kun will be with us!" the girl with short hair hugged the unconscious shinigami. "And we can all live in Hokkaido, and visit the pink house!"

Though under normal circumstances, Muraki would have no objections to being Tsuzuki's `partner', he'd rather have Tsuzuki all for himself while he was alive instead of keeping the purple-eyed shinigami away from his companions. "What a pleasant thought," Muraki commented delicately.

"Saya-chan," the girl with short hair said suddenly to the girl with long hair. "Did you get invited to the Hakushaku-sama's Tea Party?"

"No," Saya repeated sadly. "Hakushaku-sama doesn't know me." She tugged on a ribbon in Hisoka's hair. "But Hisoka-kun did. Shall we wake him up?" she asked.

The long haired girl shook her head. "Not yet, I'm sure no one will mind if he's a few minutes late."

It took most of Muraki's self control to not laugh. "Please excuse me," he murmured, rising to a standing position. "But I must go to find Tsuzuki-san. Perhaps you know where he might be?"

"Would he go the Tea Party?" Saya asked the long haired girl.

The long haired girl nodded with obvious relish. "Yes, Tatsumi-san will make him." She laughed suddenly. "Tatsumi's supposed to be in a bad mood today, something about Tsuzuki being very late. Oh dear, I wonder how long it'll take before Tatsumi will have a meltdown at the party, what with Tsuzuki and Hakushaku being in the same room!"

Muraki, somewhat confused, said his goodbyes and exited the room before Hisoka could wake up and recognize him.

He strode through the double doors that he had somehow missed. He suddenly stopped, and eyed the three people who were busily painting the potted flowers.

"Hurry . . . hurry . . . Tatsumi'll be here soon!" one egged on the other two.

"I know!" one of the other two snapped back. "Let's pray that he doesn't notice!"

The last one snorted. "Like that'll happen."

"Excuse me," Muraki began hesitantly. "But may I inquire as to what the three of you are doing?"

The three men jumped and looked around wildly. Figuring that Tatsumi wasn't near, they went back to furiously painting the flowers. "Don't do that!" one called over his shoulder. "You sound just like Tatsumi!"

"We're painting the flowers red," said another one. "I would have thought that to be obvious."

"May I inquire as to why?" Muraki asked annoyed. The three flinched, glared at him, and continued painting.

"We were supposed to order red flowers," one replied. "They're the cheapest. Well, we accidentally got white ones. And if Tatsumi finds out-"

"What is it I am to discover?" a cold voice from behind Muraki asked. Somewhat startled, Muraki whirled to it, to discover a man in a brown suit with brown hair carrying a clipboard. "Well?" Tatsumi asked impatiently.

Muraki turned back towards the three workers to see that they were crowded around the flower pot, shaking as if they were in the middle of an earthquake. "N-nothing!" the middle man replied.

"Please forgive me, but I doubt your honesty." Tatsumi's voice had not improved. "What is it that you are hiding?"

"H-hiding?" the worker on the left gasped. "Why, we're hiding nothing!"

Tatsumi narrowed his eyes and strode past Muraki towards the workers. "Move," he commanded.

"N-no?"

With a sigh Tatsumi stood before the three men and peered over their shoulders. Satisfied, he stepped back and eyed them.

"White roses," Tatsumi said in a clipped tone. "Expensive White Roses. Might I inquire as to what happened to the cheap Red Roses?"

"Err . . ." began one. "Well, there was a slight mix-up in the ordering and-"

"You do understand what this means?" The light flashed off of Tatsumi's glasses as he pushed them up.

"No," all three began at once. "Please, anything but that."

"This must be done," Tatsumi said evilly with relish. "Salary cut!"

Muraki blinked confusedly, but decided it was wise to not to say anything.

"No!" all three said in unison. "Please, anything but that!" Tatsumi started to laugh manically.

"You," Tatsumi suddenly whirled to face Muraki. "You are coming to the Tea Party, are you not?"

Muraki tilted his head as he regarded the brown shinigami before him. He remembered one of the two girls saying that Tsuzuki would be there, and he suddenly smiled predatorily. "Yes, I do believe I am attending this event."

Tatsumi nodded. "Very well, please follow me." With that, the brown shinigami turned and strode off past the three quivering men.

***

"Tatsumi!" Before either man could react, a dark blob abruptly glomped the hapless shinigami. "Save me!"

"Tsuzuki-san," Tatsumi tried to disentangle himself from the dark, quivering figure. "Please remember common courtesy, namely personal space." With one last tug, Tatsumi managed to detach Tsuzuki, and hold him at arm's length. "Tsuzuki-san, you are a grown man," he lectured. "You do not need to hide behind everyone you meet." Tsuzuki's eyes started quivering. "No, no, please don't-" Tatsumi begged.

"Ah, my Tsuzuki," said . . . a floating mask and pair of gloves. "Here, let me calm you."

Tatsumi's expression twisted to one of rage, and he shoved Tsuzuki behind him. With that much of a warning, Muraki abruptly found Tsuzuki's quivering body pressed up against his.

"Watari . . . it was so horrible . . ." Tsuzuki sobbed into Muraki's coat.

Although Muraki would have by far preferred it if Tsuzuki had done this knowing it was Muraki before him, the doctor wasn't picky.

"Please do not be frightened," Muraki crooned to Tsuzuki, ignoring the noises of violence around him. "Shall I bring you home and help you to feel better?" Tsuzuki, still crying, nodded into his coat.

"Thanks, Watari."

Muraki had nearly maneuvered Tsuzuki away from the Tea Party, when suddenly Tatsumi pinned Hakushaku to the ground and looked around wildly. "Are you leaving work early?" he snarled at Muraki and Tsuzuki. "Salary Cuts! Both of you!"

Once again, Tsuzuki collapsed into a quivering heap. Thankfully, this time it was quite easy for Muraki to pick up the shinigami and carry him away.

"Wait!" called out an old man near Muraki. "One of them doesn't even work for us!" The old man pointed directly at Muraki. "That one!" Muraki gave him a cold look.

Tatsumi ground his teeth together, glaring at Muraki. Muraki returned his glare with a cold stare.

Tatsumi opened his mouth to say something, when the little zombie tugged at his leg pant. "WHAT is it?" he asked, his voice abruptly returning to a normal tone. Watson tugged on his pant leg again, and whispered something in his ear. Tatsumi abruptly went pale, releasing the Earl.

"This is bad." Tatsumi said severely. "You, please release Tsuzuki- san this instant," he commanded Muraki. "He is a witness to a crime committed not more than five minutes ago."

***

First they had to pry Tsuzuki out of Muraki's arms, which required both Tatsumi and the Oriya look-alike from the chemistry lab.

Tatsumi waving candy under Tsuzuki's nose didn't work, though after a few waves it mysteriously disappeared from Tatsumi's palm, leaving only a glistening spot.

When the mask, who Muraki discovered was Hakushaku-sama himself, offered to kiss Tsuzuki to wake him up, Tatsumi leaned over Tsuzuki protectively. "If he cannot protect his own virtue, I will," Tatsumi growled, glaring first at Hakushaku, then at Muraki for good measure.

It eventually had taken the Oriya look-alike to kick Tsuzuki really hard to get the purple-eyed shinigami to respond.

"Ouch!" Tsuzuki cried out, rubbing his injured upper thigh. "That really hurt!" The Oriya look-alike simply shrugged.

"I am glad you are awake," Tatsumi said gently, and much to Muraki's disquietude, ran his fingers through Tsuzuki's hair. "We can proceed."

"What?" Tsuzuki asked confusedly, glancing from him to the Oriya look-alike to Muraki, and his pallor immediately lost some of its color.

"There has been a theft," Tatsumi informed him gravely, "Committed by Wakaba Kannuki."

"Wakaba-chan?" Tsuzuki asked, his attention returning to Tatsumi. "How . . . why?"

"That is what we are to find out." Tatsumi pulled Tsuzuki to his feet. "Come, you are to be a witness."

***

Muraki was not happy with his new position. Neither was the Oriya look-alike, who glared at him every time the doctor shifted.

Muraki watched Tsuzuki as the purple-eyed man sat on a dais near the feet of Tatsumi. The purple-eyed shinigami swung his feet wildly, glancing about in boredom. Tatsumi sat in a chair next to the old man, and watched the empty field with an intensity the empty field didn't deserve.

Watari walked up to the field, and behind him was a girl with long brown hair and oddly colored eyes. When Watari saw Tsuzuki, he waved at the other man enthusiastically.

"Hey, Tsuzuki, what's up?" Watari shouted across the field.

Tsuzuki shrugged in reply. "Nothing new!" he shouted back. "You?"

"Well," Watari shouted hesitantly. "I did get this new potion that afterwards maybe we could put it in Tatsumi's tea and see what it does!"

"That sounds good to me!" Tsuzuki, who was a scant two feet from Tatsumi, called back.

"Salary Cut!" Tatsumi shouted at the two shinigami. Watari and Tsuzuki didn't say anything more to each other.

"Wakaba-san," Tatsumi began imperiously as Watari scampered over to the side of the courtyard. "You are charged with stealing a cake from Hakushaku-sama." Tatsumi gestured at a pedestal. The pedestal was mostly bare, except for a few scant crumbs.

Seeing this, Tatsumi looked around darkly, glaring first at Wakaba, and then settling his gaze on Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki, who had crumbs surrounding his mouth, smiled innocently at Tatsumi before turning back to watch Wakaba. Tatsumi sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"What do you have to say to these charges?" Tatsumi demanded of Wakaba.

"I didn't steal the cake!" Wakaba shouted back. "I was the one who made it!" She glared across the courtyard at Tatsumi. "So how could I steal it?"

"That," Tatsumi hissed back, "Is for the jury to decide." He made a grand gesture at where Muraki, the Oriya look-alike, and the little old man were seated.

"Well," Wakaba sputtered. "Can I at least tell my version of the events?" she asked in exasperation. Tatsumi gestured for her to do so. "I had gotten up early this morning," Wakaba began while walking towards Muraki and the rest of the jury. "Just so I could bake the cake for the Tea Party. After I was done baking it, I brought it so other people could eat it. And then what happens?" At this, Wakaba made an extravagant gesture, smacking the little old man and sending him flying. "Watson suddenly stops me, and here I am surrounded by shinigami who want to imprison me for stealing!" Wakaba moved back to the center of the field.

"Wakaba-san," Tatsumi shuffled through his papers distractedly. "I do apologize, but the court finds you guilty."

"Wait!" Muraki called out annoyed. "Please correct me if I'm wrong, but did you not say that this was for the jury to decide?"

Tatsumi gave him a cold look. "But you have decided that Wakaba-san is guilty." he held up a pen threateningly. "Or you will get a Salary Cut."

"One problem," the Oriya look-alike growled. "We don't work for you." Tatsumi glared at him. The Oriya look-alike glared right back.

"Tsuzuki-san," Tatsumi called out, whirling to face the defenseless shinigami. "If your shikigami refuses to obey, you will get a Salary Cut."

This made Tsuzuki jump up immediately. "Touda," He called out to the Oriya look-alike. "Please agree with Tatsumi."

Touda glared at Tsuzuki for a long moment before speaking. "Guilty." he growled grudgingly.

"And you?" Tatsumi asked, turning to face Muraki. "Might I ask your verdict?" He fingered his pen.

"As I am not even dead," Muraki replied slowly. "You have no hold over me that will intimidate me into giving a verdict either way."

Tatsumi was about to reply, when suddenly a look of surprise flashed across his face. "You . . . are alive?" he asked in a tone of wonder. Muraki gave him a curt nod. "And therefore not part of our paycheck?" Muraki nodded again, wondering what Tatsumi was getting at, and when he could whisk Tsuzuki away.

Tatsumi suddenly smiled a smile that would have frozen the blood in any normal man's veins. However, Muraki was only a little bit perturbed. "Well, then," Tatsumi purred at the doctor. "This situation can be remedied."

Before Muraki could demand to know what the shinigami was talking about, a large blob of a shadow flew towards his face.

***

Muraki painfully forced his eyes open, stretching his arms out to push away the cold shadow that was now engulfing him. The shadow seemed to mold to his hand, providing frustrating resistance. A prickly sensation at his throat nearly sent him into a panic, though his training as a surgeon kept him from screaming aloud. Suddenly the shadow ripped apart, and Muraki found himself on a cold, hard floor.

It took him a moment to realize he was in a freezer. More like a ship's freezer. And the prickly sensation at his throat was . . . roses?

The End

And hence Muraki's revived from the dead, back on the Queen Camellia. And, because he was poisoned, he was on drugs, which counts for the Alice in Wonderland stuff. Sorry for the lack of Tsuzuki, but Alice didn't nab the White Rabbit, did she?





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