Chapter Eight
Hisoka sat up in bed, reading a book while listening to the bustle of the people around him. The infirmary was hardly quiet as other co-workers and Shinigami frequently dropped in with get-well wishes and gifts.
Wakaba had come by and stayed with him for about half and hour or so, asking him to try her latest brownies. Terazuma came along as well, giving him an awkward pat on the head and telling him to get well soon or a certain slacker would never get anything done. The conspicuous glare he shot at Tsuzuki left no doubt at all as to who that slacker was.
Yuma and Saya came with their usual confessions of undying love; Watari came in for his daily check-up, Konoe-kachou to see how he was doing, Tatsumi to remind him to get enough rest.
Some of them came more than once. Hisoka was getting headaches from all of the attention, especially from Yuma and Saya, who seemed to think that he looked adorably cute in a hospital gown.
But he didn’t mind, they were all sincerely concerned about him, and even if he wouldn’t admit it, he liked it. It warmed him up inside.
They came and went, and through it all, Tsuzuki stayed by his side.
The other Shinigami sat by the side of the bed doing paperwork, because Tatsumi couldn’t stand the idea of actually letting somebody sit around doing nothing. He had wanted to drag Tsuzuki away from the infirmary and send him back to the office, saying that Hisoka was most unlikely to disappear within the duration of a few hours, but puppy-dog eyes and a reminder of the phrase, “Your happiness is my happiness,” made him relent. Tsuzuki was infinitely happy until Tatsumi retaliated by sending him mountains of paperwork. Tsuzuki was about to whine till Tatsumi gave in, but the ultimatum, “Finish it or you’re going back to work,” cut off any further complaints.
Night finally fell, and with it came silence after all the employees of Enmacho stopped by to say goodbyes.
That left only him and Tsuzuki in the infirmary, with Tsuzuki still struggling through the piles of documents that didn’t look any smaller after a day of the Shinigami’s labour. Tsuzuki had never been proficient in handling paperwork; Hisoka usually had to help him through it.
Tsuzuki’s frustration and aggravation hummed through their bond, and Hisoka was just going to tell him to get done with the whining and start working already when Tsuzuki dumped all the files back onto the side table and stood up.
“I’m hungry…what do you want, Hisoka?”
Hisoka raised an eyebrow. “You don’t deserve to be hungry,” he said while giving the heaps of unfinished paperwork a pointed look.
Tsuzuki wilted. Hisoka did not only see the puppy-ears and tail hanging miserably; he could feel the man’s dejection.
It wasn’t feeling in the way his empathy allowed him to; it wasn’t overwhelming, nor was it intrusive.
He felt it as a part of him, a part that he accepted as himself.
Nobody knew about their bond. Everybody had bombarded Tsuzuki and him with questions; they all wanted to know how Tsuzuki had brought him back.
Tsuzuki had merely said, “I called, and he answered.”
It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie.
Their bond was something private, something that others did not need to know.
Watari was surprised at Hisoka’s rate of recovery. The blonde scientist was particularly fascinated by the way Hisoka now managed his newly enhanced abilities without major mental breakdowns, and very puzzled as to why Hisoka’s body wasn’t drained by the new demands of his empathy.
Hisoka didn’t tell him that it was because he did not only have his own life force, that the strength from Tsuzuki’s soul was sustaining him as well.
Together, it was enough.
As to why he wasn’t badly affected by others’ emotions, it was because Tsuzuki’s feelings overrode everybody else’s. The warmth and concern the other radiated while they were together were the only emotions that Hisoka could ever sense. This acted as shield that blocked other people’s emotions to a degree that his empathy felt no different from what he originally had.
But Watari didn’t need to know that.
The bond ran two ways. Right now, Tsuzuki knew that he didn’t really mean what he said a moment ago, and was still pestering him on what he wanted for dinner.
Some things just never changed.
Things between them certainly hadn’t. Tsuzuki was still as outwardly idiotic, and he still managed to get on Hisoka’s nerves sometimes.
There was just the addition of the mutual understanding between them. But then, Tsuzuki had always seemed to know what he wanted, so…
Perhaps the only difference was that Hisoka now understood what Tsuzuki truly felt.
“Will ramen do?” Tsuzuki asked.
Hisoka nodded uninterestedly. Tsuzuki bounded off happily.
He returned later with not only ramen, but plates of desserts as well.
Hisoka pointed an accusatory finger at the cakes. “Where did you get those?” If Tsuzuki had stolen those from Konoe-Kachou’s private stash, he was going to have Hell to face tomorrow.
Tsuzuki pouted. “Hi-so-kaa…” He knew that Hisoka was thinking of him as a thief. “Wakaba left them.”
“You can’t finish all of that,” he pointed out.
Tsuzuki merely smiled, purple eyes twinkling mischievously. “I will. Or there wouldn’t be any left tomorrow if Watari or Konoe-Kachou sees them.”
“Idiot,” Hisoka muttered.
They ate their dinner in silence after that. Tsuzuki paid very little attention to his proper meal and was a lot more interested in the desserts.
“Hisoka, try this,” he said, handing a cupcake to the boy.
Hisoka shook his head and took up his book again.
“Hisoka…”
“What?” The younger Shinigami’s tone was decidedly grumpy.
“Just try one.”
“Not everyone wants to die from diabetes or heart attacks the way you do.”
“Hi-so-kaaa…”
Hisoka started when the book in his hands was picked away and replaced with the cupcake.
“I told you…”
“I always feel that normal teenagers like sweets. Besides, this isn’t too sweet, you’ll like it.”
Hisoka looked at the cupcake in his hands. “I’m hardly normal.”
Tsuzuki looked at him, violet eyes unfathomable. He wanted to say something to cover up that statement, say something to deny the feelings of resent he had felt when he said that, but he couldn’t. Because of their bond, it was impossible to lie anymore. To hide, maybe, but never to lie.
Tsuzuki smiled softly. Emerald eyes widened in surprise when he was enveloped in a warm hug, physically and emotionally.
“Of course you’re not. No one normal can be as wonderful as you are.”
Hisoka looked up at him speechlessly. He didn’t know if he should yell at the man to let go of him, or…or…
He didn’t know what to do.
“You think too much,” Tsuzuki told him. This time, the elder Shinigami’s eyes were twinkling.
“You don’t have to make yourself think through everything you do. Sometimes…” There was that gentle smile again. He liked it when Tsuzuki smiled at him. Not those false smiles that Tsuzuki gave to prove to the world that he was all right, but the true smiles that were always so rare and precious.
“Sometimes all you have to do is follow your heart.”
“Baka…” Hisoka said softly, “You’re hardly in the position to criticize, you never think.”
But he didn’t tell the other man to let go of him.
He knew that he never wanted Tsuzuki to let go.
Follow his heart…Tsuzuki would understand how he felt.
Tsuzuki laughed softly. “I’m not normal either.”
Hisoka looked at him. True, Tsuzuki’s eyes made him different from other people, but his eyes also made him beautiful.
Hisoka didn’t say anything.
Words just weren’t needed between them anymore.
***
Occasionally, they would go out for walks. The cherry blossoms in Meifu were forever in bloom, since the underworld never experienced any other season but spring.
He would have been able to appreciate the scenery if the pure beauty of the pastel pink blossoms had not been tainted by his own memories of blood and death.
Sometimes they came out because Tsuzuki would get restless after hours of being cooped up in the infirmary with tons of paperwork. Sometimes it was Hisoka who wanted to escape from the sterile walls that frequently greeted him whenever he woke up.
Sometimes Tsuzuki would hold his hand when they walked, sometimes they walked apart.
Whatever it was, they were always together.
This time, they sat together on one of the benches because Hisoka was tired. Tsuzuki was the one who said he wanted a rest, but Hisoka knew it was because of him.
They merely sat in companionable silence. This was something they’ve done many times before, and both of them were comfortable with it.
Tsuzuki was the one who broke the tradition. Raising his head to watch the falling sakura petals, he said softly, “Meifu hasn’t changed at all since I entered. A century…and nothing has changed at all.”
Hisoka turned to face him. When Tsuzuki had said that, he had sensed a faint wave of regret, nostalgia, and strangely…contentment.
“Nature never changes, and neither do objects, but people do,” he continued, “The people are almost all different.”
“It hurts, sometimes,” he said quietly.
Hisoka gave him a sharp glance. “I thought that I’ve told you that you aren’t the type for philosophy.”
Tsuzuki laughed at that. “I supposed I’m not.”
“Ne, Hisoka, have you ever wished that sometimes it were things that changed instead of people?” A question with a thousand possibilities and meanings. What did Tsuzuki mean? Was it the meaning on the surface of those seemingly simple words, or did Tsuzuki mean to ask him something deeper than that?
Was Tsuzuki asking him if he felt that their surroundings ought to be changed, or…
Or was Tsuzuki asking him if it were they who ought to be changed, that the way things were between them should be different?
Hisoka chose to think about the question in the simple way.
And he found that he couldn’t find the answer to even the simple context of the question.
Hisoka caught a falling petal in his palm and toyed with it. “I…I don’t know.” He really didn’t. People had never meant much to him. In fact, he had always felt that the world would be a much a better place without humans altogether.
At least, until he met Tsuzuki.
Tsuzuki, however, was different. He wanted to be accepted, to be with other humans, to be treated as one. Human lives meant a lot to him. Hisoka wondered why he still wanted to be with other people after the way they treated him. Tsuzuki seemed to be able to forgive almost every injustice that was done unto him.
Hisoka himself had hated the people who abused him. He couldn’t forgive, and he knew he would never forgive. Why should he? No one had ever given him what he deserved. Because of an ability he hadn’t even asked for in the first place, he was despised. It seemed unfair to him. He had done nothing wrong.
In that aspect, like in many other ways, he and Tsuzuki were different.
No one spoke after that.
What had Tsuzuki meant when he asked that question? Maybe he should ask.
But if he did…suddenly Hisoka was afraid of the answer that Tsuzuki might give him.
Did Tsuzuki want to change the way things were between them?
Maybe…maybe Tsuzuki had finally gotten fed up of being saddled with a child who was frequently in need of protection.
Maybe he was tired of being a guardian of an eternal sixteen-year-old.
Maybe, maybe, maybe…
Hisoka knew he wasn’t getting anywhere with this. He could only ask.
Hisoka finally looked up from the petal in his hand and returned the question, “What about you? Do you wish for things to change?”
Tsuzuki smiled. Suddenly turning around to face Hisoka, he tapped the other on the nose, ignoring the death glare that Hisoka gave him.
“Um…as for me…”
Hisoka waited.
“…it depends.” There was that familiar mischievous twinkle in the elder man’s eyes, and the laughter in their bond told Hisoka that Tsuzuki was teasing him on purpose.
“Baka.” There was a certainty in Tsuzuki’s mind when Hisoka had asked him that question. The man knew the answer; he just didn’t want to tell.
“Why should I tell you when you wouldn’t tell me?” Tsuzuki asked childishly. It has always been like that. From time to time, Tsuzuki would display the maturity and experience that still sometimes managed to catch Hisoka unawares, no matter what they’ve been through together. But most of the time he was like this—childish, innocent, and naďve.
“Because I really don’t know, idiot!”
“Mou…”
“You know.” the serious tone in the other’s voice surprised him.
Again that mysterious smile. Tsuzuki’s eyes were no longer childishly innocent. True, the straightforwardness and sincerity were still there, but this time the innocence was buried deep underneath the knowledge that rose to the surface. Tsuzuki’s eyes looked strange on him; they were eyes that had seen too much, knew too much; eyes that spoke of experience, knowledge and wisdom. On Tsuzuki’s youthful face, they looked out of place.
Hisoka turned away; those eyes seemed to be able to read everything in his mind. Tsuzuki always managed to make him forget that the other had in truth already lived for a century, and the sudden reminder of how much older Tsuzuki was, of how much more he knew made Hisoka feel like the ungainly kid that he was.
“You know; you just haven’t realized it yet,” Tsuzuki said.
Hisoka was about to argue that he did not know, when Tsuzuki smiled. It was the kind of smile adults wore when they had a secret.
“You know,” he repeated.
Hisoka didn’t answer. He leaned back against the bench and closed his eyes, choosing instead to immerse himself in the calm and tranquility of their surroundings, take in the security and comfort that Tsuzuki’s presence offered.
He felt strangely tired. Not mentally tired because of the weird question Tsuzuki set him, but physically tired. He hadn’t felt this way ever since Watari announced he was well on the way to recovery. He wondered why. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t gotten enough rest; he did almost nothing but laze in bed all day long.
“Hisoka…” Strong arms pulled him up from where he was. Hisoka was shocked to find that he was leaning almost all of his weight against his partner. He immediately jerked himself upright, but stumbled before he could even take a step.
He gave an undignified squeak when he was lifted from the ground.
“Put me down, baka!”
Tsuzuki ignored him. The man didn’t even make an effort to answer.
He did answer when Hisoka bit him.
“Ouch!!! Hi-so-kaaa!”
Hisoka didn’t know what came over him. He just wanted Tsuzuki to put him down. He didn’t like being a burden, and he didn’t certainly didn’t want Tsuzuki to think that he was some useless kid that couldn’t even stand on his feet.
“I said put me down!”
“No,” Tsuzuki answered firmly.
“Tsuzuki Asato, if you don’t…”
“There’s nothing wrong with being tired.”
Hisoka couldn’t help looking up at the man when he said that.
“You’ve been through a lot, Hisoka. There’s nothing wrong if you feel exhausted; anybody else would have felt the same.”
Hisoka decided that just for once he would give in to his idiot of his partner. It wasn’t as if he could ever win a physical fight if Tsuzuki put his mind to it, regardless of the countless times when he had whapped his partner for being stupid.
“Sometimes
all you have to do is follow your heart.”
Did he want things to change between them?
Did Tsuzuki want things to change?
// Baka…
//
Hisoka wasn’t even conscious of the fact that he was no longer thinking of Tsuzuki’s question in the simple way, but was thinking of it in its deeper, more profound meaning, the one that held all the weight of those seemingly innocent words.
“Ne,
Hisoka, have you ever wished that sometimes it were things that changed instead
of people?”
// I
wish… //
***
As usual, Tsuzuki stayed the night with him.
It had begun with the other sleeping on the couch, but some way or other, Tsuzuki had progressed to the bed.
It was probably when he had woke up screaming from a nightmare and Tsuzuki had come over to hug him and comfort him.
The comforting lasted throughout the night, because the fear of the nightmare just wouldn’t go away.
After that, they shared the bed through unspoken agreement. Hisoka never offered to let Tsuzuki sleep with him, and Tsuzuki never asked either. They just…did.
The nightmares didn’t completely go away, but they rarely occurred anymore.
“Hisoka…”
“Hn?” Hisoka asked sleepily. The warmth beside him was comforting, and it always managed to lull him to sleep.
Tsuzuki said something that he didn’t quite hear.
Then he heard something.
“You’re never a burden…Hisoka.”
Never a burden…relief flooded into his already drowsy mind.
“And…Hisoka?”
Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around him. Hisoka didn’t protest as he normally would.
“Never a burden…”
Tsuzuki had heard his thoughts just now, and as usual, he said something that would put Hisoka’s fears to rest.
The way a mother or father would.
Hisoka leaned against that embrace. Normally, he would have ignored it, avoided showing any form of affection.
He could feel Tsuzuki’s surprise, and then the gentle gratification and fulfillment that followed.
With their bond, it all became a part of him.
“Hisoka?” Tsuzuki asked again.
“You knew what I meant just now,” the other said softly before resting his head on top of Hisoka’s own.
Hisoka could feel the other’s warm breath tickling the hairs on his nape.
// What
he meant… //
Tsuzuki’s question.
Tsuzuki asked if he wanted to change the way things were between them.
“What
about you? Do you wish for things to change?”
“…it
depends.”
Tsuzuki said that it depends.
Did it…did it depend on his decision?
It was just like Tsuzuki--selfless, patient and considerate.
// What
I wish for… //
Tsuzuki said that he already knew what he wanted; he just hadn’t realized it yet.
What did he want?
What did Tsuzuki want?
Hisoka fell asleep, and this time he dreamed of warm hands, soft words, and caring touches.
// I
want… //
***