05-Oct-2004
Title: Degrees of Separation
Chapter: 11
Authors: bonnejeanne and Laekin
Series: Chaotic Alliance
Fandom: Yami no Matsuei
Archived at: Currently at Love and Gundams and will also be at Katcom: http://katcom.squidkitty.org/
Pairings: Muraki x Watari, Tatsumi x Watari, Muraki x Oriya
Genre: Drama, Dark Angst, Psychological mindgames.
Rating for this Chapter: PG-13
CMA: Not intended for under-age readers.
Spoilers: None in this section.
Disclaimer: These characters are not ours. We seek no money from this endeavor, just having a bit of fun in the sandbox.
Feedback: positive feedback welcome
bonnejeanne@yahoo.com and/or seregill@aol.com.
Warnings and Author's Notes by Laekin:
Greetings! Well bonnejeanne and I ride again!!!! This time in the Yami no Matsuei universe. The following fic was collaborated on between us with Bonnejeanne handling Muraki, Tatsumi and a special guest star to be revealed later. I am responsible for Watari and Oriya.
Like "The Doll" this is a very dark fiction. It is psychologically complex, it deals with difficult situations as well as complex issues and it will not be to everybody's tastes. We ask, respectfully, that if you do not feel you can see Muraki as a three-dimensional character who is tragic in his own way, you pass over this fic. No need to explain why, we understand! Some may find the content, the emotions and the implications disturbing. If you are one of those who can be disturbed by such things, you've been warned. Any after effects are not our responsibility.
Bonne's Note: Muraki Friendly Fic, so skip if that's not your thing, no hard feelings.
Degrees of Separation: Part Eleven
The first thing that penetrated Watari's deep restful sleep were dreams. At first the images were memories from the highly stressful day - the man in black, and then images of the face and eyes of the angry man in Enma's entrance hall. In the dream, however, the man stopped, and began cursing at Watari, claiming that he was the cause of some kind of failure, and then his neck elongated and suddenly he made as if to sink viper's fangs into Watari's throat.
In the dream, however, the fangs were deflected by something around his neck. Something that became warm and then hot, but it protected him. Warm... so warm... tingling with energy....
And then Watari realized he was awake, and the midnight black of Tatsumi's room was being illuminated by a soft red glow that originated below his own chin.
It was not normal fare for a shinigami to dream of death... being already dead, and while at first Watari accepted the dream as the manifestation of a very long, confusing day, as it continued, he began to shift and mutter against Tatsumi's shoulder. Then as the dream got more disturbing, the attack... the warmth on his neck... for a moment Watari was uncertain of what was reality and what was fantasy until he realized his eyes were open and the comforting, complete darkness he was used to in Tatsumi's room was being filled by the soft red glow.
A soft red glow which was coming from him... from his neck... from the marks on his neck.
Sitting up abruptly, Watari reached a hand up to his throat, his mind racing to come fully awake to deal with the change in the marks around his neck.
He felt nothing but his own skin under his fingers, and a slight tingle when his fingertips encountered the symbols.
In his mind, however, he heard thoughts in the form of a familiar voice.
/Come outside. Come out under the moon and the trees. I'm waiting for you./
Watari's heart slammed up into his chest and he took a shuddering breath. He knew the voice, he couldn't dismiss the voice, it made him tremble with awareness, shivering where once he'd been warm.
~Take as many lovers as you wish... so long as you come when I want you.~
The scientist couldn't dismiss those words and beyond that, how in the hell was *he* here... in Meifu? Turning, leaning over Tatsumi to press a kiss to the corner of the shadow-master's mouth, Watari nuzzled his face against his shinigami lover's cheek, reaching up with a hand to cradle the other side of Tatsumi's features, whispering to an ear, "I have... I'll...I have to go."
Then, Watari was moving, rolling out of the bed, bare feet hitting the floor, stubbing his toe as he made his way around the bed, trying not to curse out loud as he fumbled for the door, lead by the light softly glowing around his neck.
Watari was moving so quickly, was so flustered and the room was so dark apart from the soft red glow, that he never noticed the dark red ribbon that had encircled his lover's eyes, blocking him from awareness of the light and drawing just enough of his energy to keep him in a sleeping state. There was no answer to Watari's hurried words.
Watari probably looked rather silly as he emerged from Tatsumi's apartment, dressed only in pale blue pajama bottoms which were too large for him, threatening to trip him up as he took off at a run down the hall towards the garden. His blond hair was almost what one would call artfully tangled, if one didn't have to endure what it would take to brush it out, and he'd forgotten his glasses, so he was rather blind, but he knew these hallways by heart and had no problem navigating them, even in the dark.
His mind was racing, positively racing. He was certain now that the angry man he'd seen was Yatonogami... that the head of Saki held some value for Yatonogami and this also meant the body... Kazutaka Muraki's body, also held some value for Yatonogami. Watari still couldn't quite connect all the dots, but even as part of his mind puzzled on *how* Muraki had gotten to Meifu, another part of his mind was puzzling on what it meant.
Careening through the doors, which led out into the garden, Watari paused, attempting to catch his breath. Though Meifu was always temperate, the cool night air still brushed across the young shinigami's bare chest, causing goosebumps on his fair skin and his nipples to tighten in protest. Wrapping his arms around himself, he padded silently down along the walkway, peering into the fuzzy landscape of the night, searching.
He felt drawn, as if something were leading him, eventually off the paths and across the grass until he stood in a small clearing, nothing over him but the moon, which looked so large it seemed to be half as far from the earth as usual.
Some part of Yutaka Watari's logical, scientific mind fought against the compulsion to go off the path, down across the deep grass to a point in the garden that was hidden from view but which gave one of the clearest views of the night sky. His eyes were drawn upwards, watching the pale moon... watching it bleed red, like the darkest of eclipses, only Watari knew this was no natural phenomenon he was witnessing.
As he stared up at it, the blood red color seemed to seep across the white/grey surface like a stain.
When the moon was wholly covered in red, like a bloody face in the sky, Watari felt the tingle around his neck increase along with the heat. It seemed to spread from his neck across his skin until it covered every inch of his body.
If he could have taken his eyes from the red moon, he would have probably been startled to see glowing runes extending across his whole body, but he could not look down. He could not move, could not tear his eyes away from the spectacle of the moon as it darkened over head and glowed an most unnatural color. He couldn't seem to move any part of his body, though he no longer felt the chill of the night air. In fact he felt wonderfully warm, almost overly warm on those spots where the runes actually painted his skin.
The tingle and the heat slowly localized, until it felt as if someone were standing behind him, holding him, arms wrapped around him.. The sensation became more and more definite and then he felt warm breath against his cheek and a brush of lips.
At first, Watari was thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe he was still dreaming... but such a vivid dream... the way that heavy, solid warmth pressed against his back, the strength of arms he knew, even though he should try everything in his power to forget their embrace... a dream... was he still dreaming?
"Yutaka..."
He heard his name and finally was able to close his eyes. No, not a dream... the arms holding him were Muraki's, the breath caressing his skin...
"Muraki."
The tingle in his skin faded and the warmth too, until it was just the real warmth from the man holding him, and a slight residual pulse around his neck.
"Thank you for bringing me back here, my gatekeeper."
Reality sank back in and Watari shivered in the arms holding him. Opening his eyes, he looked back up at the moon, not bothering to look back over his shoulder at the man behind him. Taking a deep breath, Watari shivered again, before asking in a voice that was a little tense, but also calm.
"Why did you want to come back here?"
There was really no point in railing against Muraki for using him. As the doctor had said that night in the bathtub, Watari had let Muraki do anything he wished to him. It was futile to get angry at a predator for doing what came instinctively.
"Your employer has something that belongs to me," Muraki answered, absently caressing Watari's chest and stomach with a light touch. He leaned close to Watari's neck and sniffed. "Something you've been close to recently."
The young shinigami hooded his eyes and attempted not to react to the touch of the doctor's strong, skillful hands across his naked skin. Instead, his lips twitched and he said, "Saki."
It was an easy conclusion... perhaps one of the first in a long time.
"My brother. I know you didn't realize when you first contacted me that your employer here in the nether world had possession of him. At first I thought you did know, and that was why you tried to make that deal, but I quickly realized you had been kept in ignorance. Enma Daioh," Muraki spoke the name without a trace a respect, "Proposed much the same arrangement. He would return my brother's head to me without interference if I... agreed to play a certain game. I took a while to think it over. I've decided to decline."
The shivers became a distinct tremble as Watari suddenly began to see a pattern... a pattern he wanted desperately not to be witness to. Licking his lips he asked.
"What was the game?"
"To accept him as my employer as well. To give in to death so that he could make a shinigami of me." The slight sneer in his voice was barely detectable.
Muraki's answer brought no relief to Watari's mind, in fact... it made the pattern seem even more clear.
"But..." He began, in a very passionate tone only to stop and falter. He was working a theory from very little linked fact and if he misstepped this time, as he had in the past, the explosion would destroy not just the lab but possibly Meifu itself.
Taking a deep breath, Watari nodded, in silent acknowledgement of what Muraki was saying and then forced himself to remain perfectly quiet, letting Muraki lead the conversation. It was the only safe move Watari could think to play at the moment.
The next words out of Muraki's lips were surprising, if for no other reason than because they were phrased in the form of a question.
"Will you help me?"
Watari was very still in Muraki's embrace though the doctor could probably feel the rapid beating of the shinigami's heart against his arm as he ask, "With what?"
Muraki chuckled. "With everything. With nothing. I almost said, help me find peace... help me get back my freedom. But when you asked me with what, I realized what your answers to those questions would be. Yes, and no. No matter what you said, it would be yes, and no. And peace is over-rated. So... nevermind."
Those were not words Watari had expected to hear from the doctor and they held him speechless for quite a few moments. In the garden the wind blew softly, making the sakura trees whisper around them and brushing the scientist's bare skin with it's chilly caress, so at odds with the warmth of Muraki's arms.
When he finally broke the silence, it was to ask a question of his own. "I... those might be beyond my ability but it doesn't mean..." Watari stopped and exhaled a slow breath, lowering his head and giving it a bit of a shake.
"What was your reason for coming here, Kazutaka?"
"I've told you that. To get him back."
As an afterthought, Muraki added, "And to tell Emna Daioh what divine orifice he can put something in."
Though there was no noise to accompany the motion, Watari's chest twitched in what could only be termed a choked off chuckle. Then something came to him, another piece of the puzzle clicking into place.
"You... intend on seeing Enma Daioh?"
The way they were standing, Watari would not see the doctor's face, but he heard the softly indrawn breath and the even softer chuckle. It had an edge to it - perhaps meglomaniacal madness, perhaps an insane lust for his own destruction.
"Why... yes. Yes, I think I will do that."
Tension, very mild but unmistakable began to creep through Watari, making his muscles stiffen and he straightened, pulling away from Muraki. Head tilted down, the scientist reached up a hand and bundled up his hair, getting it out of his face, only to let it loose to fall back into his eyes.
"Yes," he said softly, almost as if he were answering someone else, then he took a deep breath and nodded.
"All right. This way."
Watari held out a hand, pointing back towards the building he'd emerged from. He was gnawing on his lower lip, his eyes now focused somewhere on the side of Muraki's ribcage, his expression pensive but also alight with the tentative spark of someone who sees the puzzle beginning to take shape.
The doctor did not immediately trot off in the direction Watari indicated, instead, he studied Watari's expression, coming up to him and lifting his chin with a fingertip. He stared deeply into the shinigami's eyes and his own seemed to expand as they looked down.
"Are you leading me into a trap, Yutaka? Perhaps you have Tsuzuki and your other lover waiting for me, I sense their presence not far."
Watari allowed his chin to be lifted and after a blink he looked Muraki directly in the eyes. After the doctor spoke, the scientist's lips twitched.
"This is our home, Kazutaka, of course you sense their presence not far. As for a trap. I don't *deliberately* lead you towards a trap. I'm actually following an order, from the god you want to speak with." Watari held his arms out to the side, palms up. "But I'm afraid I can't give you any guarantee beyond the fact that I have yet to break my word to you."
Muraki seemed to consider Watari's words. Then he cupped his hand around Watari's face. "You might be surprised how much of a guarantee you *can* give me," he said, his voice low, but with an edge of tension and also of suppressed excitement, running under the deep tones.
Lowering his face, he kissed Watari slowly on the lips, then bent to kiss his neck. As his lips rose a fraction of an inch from the skin, syllables began to pour from his mouth, rolling melodically, softer than speech yet somehow coming out with a power like silent thunder. Watari's neck began to tingle and the tingle spread... across his shoulders, down his arms and chest, down his back, over his waist, then hips and groin, then legs all the way down to his ankles. What he could see of his own skin came alive with the scrolling characters of arcane script.
It was hard to discern if it was the kiss, or the magic that then flowed across his skin which left the shinigami trembling. There was a certain fire in Watari's eyes, testament that he was not at all certain he appreciated what Muraki had done to him, but the young blond held his tongue. At that point, he was starting to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and he wondered who he was going to end up more angry with, Muraki, or Enma Daioh.
Swallowing, eyes locked on Muraki's face if for no other reason then to keep from seeing what was happening on his own body, Watari asked.
"Shall we... continue?"
"Ah, but continue what..." Muraki murmured, licking his ear briefly.
Then he lifted his head and looked beyond Watari. "I suggest a detour. That tiresome boy..."
Even from this distance, Watari could hear Hisoka's enraged and terrified scream.
"YOU!!! You... *can't* be here!!"
Watari was pale to begin with and it was strange to see him go even paler as he heard Hisoka's voice.
"Hisoka." He said the boy's name in a pained whisper, then grabbed at Muraki's elbow.
"Come on, I need to get you to Enma." There was a pause and then Watari chuckled, a sound devoid of all humor. "Words I never expected to say in my after-life time."
Turning, Watari tried to gauge just where the back entrance to the garden was. He had no idea if he could even begin to explain to Hisoka what Muraki was doing there and why Hisoka couldn't try to kill the doctor but he did know he did not have time to try.
In the same direction as the boy's enraged scream had come from, even Watari could feel another silent explosion and a feeling of power being summoned. This time he had no doubt who and what it was - since the runes had come alive on his skin, he suddenly felt attuned to magical energies as never before and he could sense Tsuzuki's magic even from far away.
Taking Watari's hand firmly, Muraki laughed, that note of madness-or-something (deathwish?), running through it. "Better run, Yutaka. Unless you want to see a wonderful battle... As much as it would pain me to, I *have* itched for a long time to have another match of powers with Tsuzuki..."
Watari's mind raced. The last thing he wanted to have to do was protect Muraki against Tsuzuki but he knew he couldn't let Muraki and Tsuzuki mix it up. Not now. Grabbing the doctor's elbow, Watari pulled and pulled hard.
"You don't have *time* to play with Tsuzuki, not tonight."
Watari had no reason to expect that Muraki would in any way cooperate and was already formulating plans B-E in case he needed them.
However he did cooperate. His instruction to Watari to run wasn't an order to run away so he could fight. Rather is was a suggestion that the shinigami lead him quickly, before temptation called him back. Where Watari led, he went, pacing him, even at a run.
The scientist breathed an inwards sigh of relief as Muraki moved with him instead of away from him. Ducking back into the shadows of the garden, Watari lead Muraki quickly along back paths towards a small door which was slightly overgrown with rose vines. Ignoring the thorns on his hands and arms, Watari worked the door open and slipped through, holding the door for Muraki.
Once outside the garden, they were on what looked like a typical street, except for the lack of lamp lights. Taking a half a second to orient himself to the building behind him and where he had to be to get to Enma, Watari turned right and began to jog, down the sidewalk, his bare feet silent on the neatly laid bricks as he led Muraki away from Tsuzuki, Hisoka and the garden.
Half way around the tall wall, when he gauged they were near the right area, Watari stopped and frowned at the stones.
"This, is going to come out of my budget," he muttered before lifting a hand, fingers curled down together, and *pushed* towards the wall, neatly buckling the stone inwards, breaking a *doorway* through.
Knowing his use of power would be a beacon to Tsuzuki, Watari was moving before the last stone fell, leading Muraki through the hole and running back towards the Division building. As he pushed on through a door, back into the building, the scientist was relieved to find his sense of direction hadn't failed him this time -only on Earth did it seem to do that- and he was very close to the ornate hall he'd visited earlier that day.
Walking quickly, but at a more sedate pace, Watari moved towards the reception area of that hall, all the while looking over his shoulder, his expression... pained.
The moment his pace slowed, a white trench coat was flung around his shoulders without a word.
Muraki seemed happy enough to be guided along at such speed, only occasionally throwing momentary, almost dreamy looks back over his shoulder. But the spark that lit his eyes as he returned his gaze forward was far keener and burned with anticipation.
"Thank you." Watari spoke softly, automatically when the heavy trench coat was laid across his chilled skin and perhaps he should have worried about himself when it was the most natural thing in the world to push his arms through the sleeves and wrap the coat, still warm from Muraki's body, around his own.
The scientist made quite a funny looking picture, wearing pajama bottoms which were too big from him, clothes of one lover, and an overcoat which was woefully too big for him, clothes of another lover, but he didn't care, his mind was focused only on getting Muraki to Enma and hopefully getting more of the puzzle put together.
Coming up to the attendant at the desk, Watari bit his lip, then shrugged and with a reckless sort of smile that might have left the attendant wondering about the shinigami's sanity, said, "We're here to see... Enma Daioh. He's expecting us." A quick look over his shoulder and then Watari's eyes came back to the attendant, the smile still in place. "And...hurry."
The attendant, the same stunning woman in stiletto heels, straight skirt and hair in a French twist as earlier in the day, looked at a laptop in front of her. Then she looked up, focusing on Muraki. Her eyes didn't exactly widen, more like they sharpened, and she reached her hand under the edge of her desk in the universal receptionist gesture of tripping the silent alarm. The she got up, picked up her laptop, closed it, and left the desk, and not in the direction of the double doors to the inner chamber.
The action of the attendant was not expected and it left Watari standing there blinking, scrambling to catch up. For a brief second he feared he'd made a dreadful mistake... but all the facts, all the evidence supported this particular *theory* that he was to bring Muraki to Enma Daioh.
Muraki chuckled. Then he laughed. Releasing Watari's hand, he walked around the desk and towards the huge doors to the entrance hall.
As he walked, he lifted a hand, fingers spread, and spoke a series of words, and a bolt of purple/white shot across the space and hit the doors. The impact caused a slight tremor but the doors didn't budge. Never pausing, he spoke again, and made another gesture, and then he called out, but his final words were not some kind of spell of power.
"Saki!! SAKI!!! I'm coming, let me in...."
"Shit," Watari said softly under his breath, though he made no move to get between Muraki and the doors.
After all, what could he do? His powers were minute when compared to the wards Enma would have on his own doors. Getting in the way would just get him flattened, either by Enma or Muraki. He did trail, silently behind Muraki, shivering, despite the warmth of the coat now pulled tightly around his half-naked body. Still casting glances behind him, expecting to get caught in the cross-fire of Enma, Muraki and Tsuzuki at any minute, the scientist, normally so confident and bouncy, felt dangerously vulnerable and realized that for all he believed in science, at that moment he was going on faith alone.
As Watari glanced behind him, he happened to catch a glimpse of a man standing in the shadows at one side of the reception area, out of the direct line of sight when they came in. Tall... dressed in a black suit... dark shades.. He seemed completely unruffled in the brief glimpse Watari had of him, his hands clasped across his lap. He even nodded very slightly at Watari.
The young shinigami almost tripped over his own two feet, his brain taking a half second to catch up with the input from his eyes. He blinked towards the man in black, then spun back towards Muraki.
Lifting one slender hand, Watari almost called out for the doctor, when he seemed to realize that Muraki was calling for "Saki" not "Enma." Now positioned somewhat between the two, moving towards Muraki, yet glancing back and forth between the shadows and the doctor, Watari bit his lower lip pensively.
And the doors should not have opened. Watari was right - the wards Enma could place on his own sanctuary were beyond anything a human practitioner - even one as powerful as Muraki - should have been able to budge. But as Muraki kept blasting at them, and walking towards them, almost as if he would hammer them down with his fists if they refused to budge, the man in black lifted the fingers of one hand ever so slightly, and the doors shuddered, and fell open.
The doctor never even paused. He walked through the shivering gates as if expecting nothing else.
Watari was lucky to have caught that very subtle gesture by Enma. Spinning back towards Muraki, he saw the doors fall open, giving the doctor access to the inner sanctuary of the Lord of Hades. Pausing for a beat, the young shinigami exhaled a long breath and pushed his hand through his tousled hair. He encountered a knot but didn't even wince as he pulled it free. Then, with one last glance back towards Enma, Watari jogged a couple of steps, getting closer to Muraki, but not crowding the doctor.
Beyond the doors was not Enma's inner sanctum, but the long entrance hall. Where it had been bustling when Watari had come through before, now it was as empty as the entrance hall to the chamber of the Wizard of Oz.
Muraki strode through it without stopping, head high. The inner doors fell back at the first strike. The doctor should have realized then, but he was in a state of mind that was no longer rational. The closer he got to his brother's head, the more that other voice in his mind seemed to overcome his own thoughts, deafening him to reason and filling his eyes with the lumination of madness.
Some instinct kept Watari quiet as he trailed in the doctor's wake. Arms wrapped around himself, he couldn't see Muraki's eyes to see the lumination in their gray depths but he could see the way the doctor carried himself, the subtle changes in the taller man's muscles and gestures that Watari had learned, in their short acquaintance, to be leery of. The silence of the hall, save for Muraki's footsteps, was deafening and Watari was almost glad when their finally reached their destination, though he sheered off a little, staying to the side of the doorframe where he could watch the entire room.
The inner room was much as Watari had seen it, minus the attendants. The big chair on the dais was there, and again empty. But Muraki never even noticed it. His eyes were fastened on the cylinder, which had been taken out of the crate and placed in the middle of the wide open space in front of the dais.
He stopped, almost sticking to the floor, something like a shudder moving through the doctor's frame.
"SSsssssssaki..."
He took a step, almost springing as if to stride forward and then... stopped again.
It was as if two impulses were joined in battle.
Leaning against the doorjamb, one hand clenched around the frame, Watari's knuckles turned white as he gripped the frame even harder. His eyes were keen as they watched the events unfolding in front of him. Taking a quick breath a couple of times, it wasn't until he saw Muraki speak his brother's name, move forward but then stop and step back that the scientist finally spoke.
"Kazutaka..."
A shudder seemed to move through the doctor in response to Watari's softly spoken word.
"Shut up you stupid bitch!" something hissed with Muraki's voice and the man sprang forward another couple of steps and then stopped again.
Much softer, the same voice said, through stiff lips, "....Yutaka you should... go..."
Watari's lips twitched, but it was a tense gesture. Forcing his now almost numb hand to release the doorframe, the scientist stepped on into the room. He no longer held the coat closed and it hung open along his slender frame, exposing the runes on his skin.
On silent feet, he moved into Enma's inner sanctuary, eyes locked on the picture Muraki and the cylinder made in the center of the room.
"I'm dreadful at following...orders. Always have been," Watari started in a soft tone that was meant for Kazutaka's ears. But then his voice sharpened. "And I certainly don't take orders from *you*." The inflection was subtle but distinct to a close observer as he addressed the 'hiss'.
If his words were heard, either comment, there wasn't any clear reaction. The closer he got to Muraki, the more he could see that some kind of battle was being fought. Muraki's hands opened... then fisted... then opened again. His eyes never wavered from the head floating gently in the cylinder.
Another step... and a stop. Then another.
The young shinigami only took a few steps towards the doctor before he stopped. He was drawn another step, his eyes darting towards the cylinder as he momentarily envisioned jumping forward and trying to smash the damn thing with its gruesome cargo. Watari's limbs twitched with aborted signals to move as he contemplated moving and grabbing Muraki but he didn't do this either.
Though instinct screamed at him to help, Watari stood still knowing that he couldn't interfere in such ways with this battle Muraki fought. It was between Muraki and his demon, and intervention would taint the results. But that didn't mean he was leaving the doctor to fight alone. Even if he couldn't move towards him, nor did he move away.
And suddenly Watari felt something behind him. It wasn't so much a sound or an energy, it was a sense of calm, of density, almost of coolness.
Aware of a... presence behind him, Watari silently hoped he was right in the assumption that it was Enma because he couldn't bring himself to look away from Muraki and Saki.
"Kazutaka..." He whispered the word.
In front of his eyes, just beyond the tableaux of man and cylinder, something moved. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but it caught his eye somehow.
Shadows of the pillars lining the great hall were shifting.
Watari was loath to take his eyes off Muraki and the cylinder for even a second but the movement of the shadows caused his eyes to jump warily around the room before circling back. He stopped his words in his throat, hands fisted at his sides.
The movement, however, caught another gaze. A glittering artificial eye seemed to flash.
The deadlock was suddenly broken as Muraki whirled on Watari.
"YOU..SET..US..UP..."
The doctor's hands drew viciously, making sigils in the air, then in a flinging gesture, as if throwing an attack directly at the scientist.
Power crackled across the space, and shadows leapt up to intercept it but before they could, those large, thin hands gestured again and the bolt was deflected.
Stunned, but unable to cry out in denial of the accusation which issued from his lover's lips, Watari shook his head from side to side. His eyes on Muraki's face, he almost missed the initial motion of the doctor's hands so that when the power suddenly struck towards him, he would have probably been caught by it were it not for the deflection by the same hands which cast the spell.
And then Muraki whirled around again and sprang for the cylinder before anything could intercept him.
His hands spread around the clear container.
The moment his hands touched the cylinder, white-orange power crackled up from the floor through the base of the cylinder itself and spread instantly to Muraki's body, and he screamed.
Bewildered, Watari couldn't move fast enough when Muraki suddenly turned and dove for the cylinder. Eyes widening, the scientist moved to close the distance between himself and Muraki but something held him just shy of the ring of power coming up from the floor.
"ENMA!" The shinigami cried, spinning around to search the room desperately.
Behind him instead of the man in black, he saw other figures.
Tatsumi. A ring of shadows ran around the outside edge of the room as if to contain what happened within.
And Tsuzuki. The same intangible 'wind' that seemed to stir the shadows played with his coat, swirling it around him as he held up his hands in a warding invocation.
And a little behind Tsuzuki, hands around his temples but eyes open and focused, Hisoka. The expression on the boy's face could have been anger, pain, or just terrifically focused concentration.
Watari felt almost sick when he turned and saw Tatsumi, Tsuzuki, Hisoka... his family standing there. He now stood somewhere between them, and Muraki.
And then suddenly the man in black *was* there. He glanced over the top of his shades and Watari heard a very clear voice in his mind, through the screaming.
/This is our only chance. The rider is strong and does not want to relinquish his mount. If you can help, if you will... do what you can. If we lose, they will both go to the darkest of hells together./
When the man in black appeared, Watari felt a moment's hope... Enma would fix it... Enma could make it all right... but then he heard the voice in his head and felt his heart sink. This was something even beyond Enma. Which he should have anticipated, given the severity of the situation but... he didn't *know* the answer and the scientist in him railed against the idea of an *educated guess*.
Features twisted in torment, when he was released from Enma's *gaze*, Watari's eyes turned towards Muraki. The screaming seemed almost muted beneath the pounding of his own heart as his mind raced through what he knew, what he'd learned, searching for the answer.
The Doll.
The child's desperate attempt to fix the broken doll. The loving way an inexperienced hand had tried to put the delicate pieces of the ceramic back together. The patience of that child... the will of that child...
"Kazutaka..."
Not daring to look behind him, Watari took first one step, then another towards the man clinging to the cylinder. Barefooted, he walked towards the fury of the white-orange power raging up along the sides of the glass and around Muraki's body.
It was a hell of a gamble he took as he stepped close enough to touch the thrown back head, fingers reaching to card through silver hair in a comforting motion.
One of the dolls, finally returning the care gifted them by the child all those years ago.
"Kazutaka..."
He felt the lick of the energy that burned through Muraki's body and souls on his own hands, but as the psychic energy translated into physical pain, the runes on his body flared and... blocked that pain, protecting him.
At this proximity, Watari suddenly realized that the screaming was not coming from Muraki's throat. His mouth was open in pain, but the screaming seemed to come from somewhere else, somewhere between the doctor's contorted body and the cylinder.
As he stroked Muraki's hair, the sound seemed to waver and move closer to the cylinder.
Watari shivered as he realized the origin of the screaming came from between the cylinder and Muraki. Fingers stroking soothingly through soft, silver hair he looked down to meet Muraki's eyes when the doctor looked upwards.
Muraki's eyes rolled up, meeting Watari's for a moment. There was such a storm of emotions there... hate... lust... desire... insanity...
Acceptance.
And then ultimately and always, defiance.
Watari's return gaze was filled with...acceptance...understanding...desire...welcome.
Muraki's hands loosened from their grasp on the cylinder and fell away and the doctor collapsed, as the screaming rose angrily in pitch and volume.
As Muraki collapsed, Watari's arms were there to catch him, exhibiting more strength than was perhaps advertised by the scientist's slender form.
As it rose, the screaming seemed to cut across Watari's spine and it was as much to protect the doctor as to have something to hold onto himself that had the scientist falling back, holding Muraki's head and shoulders sheltered against his own torso.
The screaming crescendoed, and a tearing sound, and sensation, all but rent the room asunder as something intangible passed through the 'glass' into the container.
And then the cylinder cracked, and the fluids drained out, and the object inside began to smolder and blacken, filling the air with a noxious scent.
The man in black stepped around Watari and his burden, and lifted a hand to the blackening thing in the cracked container.
As he did so, something seemed to ooze out of it in a reluctant, resistant way. It was energy, soul energy, but it was darker than any soul Watari had ever seen.
It was not dark enough, or powerful enough, however, to evade Enma's hand.
It was captured and a crystal formed around it, confining it.
Even as it happened, the figure in Watari's arms moved. With Muraki in his arms, Watari didn't have much mobility, but if he could have managed it he would have scooted as far away from the inky ichor that crept towards Enma's commanding hand as he could manage. Its darkness seemed to taint the very air, even to a spirit-sense-dull individual like himself, but as soon as Muraki roused himself, the young shinigami released the doctor, his attention turning towards the man.
Painfully, but forcing past the weakness, Muraki gained his hands and knees and crawled to what was left of the cylinder. He ignored the man in black, aiming a distracted snarl at him as an obstacle, and somehow the doctor crawled up to his knees, reached his hands through the splintered container, partially shredding them, and pulled the blackened, disgusting (and now empty) object that had once been his brother's head from inside.
Lip caught between his teeth, Watari ruthlessly squashed the urge to try to help Muraki over to the blackened head. He'd never seen Muraki crawl, was one of the thoughts that went through his head as he watched his mortal lover reach into the glass, cutting those deft, skillful hands as they reached for the contents of the broken jar.
Cradling the head in his arms, Muraki curled over it protectively.
"Saki."
And then the mad doctor wept himself into oblivion, mourning the death of his only brother.
Perhaps Muraki's tears surprised Watari a little. He hadn't known what to expect in way of reaction from Muraki but as he watched the doctor weep over his lost sibling, he couldn't help overlaying it with the image of the child aching for the lost opportunity of a companion. Remaining seated on the floor, Watari took his eyes off the doctor only to look at Enma, like a bewildered child will look to its parents. Then, with a glance over his shoulder at the others, Watari settled himself, knees pulled up to his chest, arms around his legs, sitting a silent sentry over the mourning mortal.
Enma looked down, his expression perhaps just a tiny bit regretful.
"Deep fields, shinigami," he said, his low voice rumbling slightly. "Deep fields and tall weeds but you found your way. Mother said you would."
Watari felt a familiar presence behind him and Tatsumi's strong hands rested lightly on his shoulders. And Tsuzuki was there also, along with Hisoka. The green-eyed boy seemed unable to take his eyes from Muraki but his expression was unreadable.
Leaning back towards the hold of those strong hands, yet still sitting upright, Watari looked back up at Enma, his voice a little tight with emotions being held in check.
"But...is it over?" Something in his tone indicated he didn't think it was, even as one might wish the answer to be different.
"No, it's far from over. But this part is. Their souls have been separated. Now it remains to be seen if the man will be able to live that way. A body may even grow to believe it needs the cancer that is killing it, in time. He'll never be the man he would have been otherwise. Some potentials are lost as others take their places. Even I can't predict what will be left.
But with luck... yes even the gods need luck on occasion... with luck the other side may have lost a champion-to-be in the war that is coming."
Three attendants suddenly appeared, carrying a box with thick padded sides. The dark soul crystal Enma held was placed inside and removed.
The young shinigami nodded as Enma spoke, the last pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place, though there were still questions, but maybe they were meant to remain questions. Watari was more than happy to see the crystal being stashed away, hopefully to some place very safe, for he had to admit to harboring a bit of a fear as to what would happen were it released.
Tatsumi squeezed his shoulder gently. "Leave him," he said softly. "He'll be taken care of."
Tatsumi's touch drew large, amber eyes up to his face. The blond's brows furrowed and his lips parted on a breath, quickly followed by another breath and a little shake of his head.
"I... I gave my word, Tatsumi... that I wouldn't abandon him." Watari knew Enma's attendants could care for Muraki, hell, probably better than anything *he* could do but... "he won't know them."
Tatsumi shook his head. "He won't know anything for a while. In the morning you can go and make sure... whatever you need to make sure of. Come back with me for a little while. Bathe, get an hour or two of sleep."
The scientist blinked up at the shadow-master, then looked back towards Muraki, then over to Enma, visibly torn, but his logical mind came to the rescue. Tatsumi was right. For awhile at least Muraki was only going to know his own grief and probably, with a little help from Enma, some sleep afterwards. It wouldn't do anyone any good if one slightly overwhelmed blond shinigami let himself get stupid with exhaustion and reaction.
Nodding, Watari got his legs under him and scrabbled less than gracefully to his feet. He could see the scuffed dark shoes and well-worn sneakers of Tsuzuki and Hisoka but he couldn't quite bring himself to look either of the other two shinigami in the face.
Maybe after he was cleaned up and had had some sleep.
He was roused from his concentration by a young voice.
"We'll sit with him."
When the sentence startled Watari into looking up in spite of himself, Hisoka stared back at him defiantly.
"I said we'll sit with him. And no, I'm not going to try to poke his eye out with a pencil or anything."
The young empath reached out and brushed his fingers lightly over the fading runes on Watari's body. Then he glanced up at the scientist. Something akin to compassion glimmered in his impossibly wide green eyes for a moment before he looked away.
Tsuzuki's hand fell lightly on Hisoka's shoulder.
"That's right, Watari-kun," Tsuzuki said quietly. "We will, until you are able to face the day."
Watari blinked, surprised and perhaps a little ashamed at his own surprise. He'd always known that Hisoka was older and stronger than his years but somehow, in the turmoil, he'd let himself forget that fact along with Tsuzuki's capacity to see more than the violet-eyed shinigami would let on.
Looking back and forth between the two partners, the scientist grinned. "Thank you." Not only for their promise but also for their understanding... perhaps even moreso for the latter as it was infinitely precious.
"Now go to bed, you look disgusting," Hisoka snapped softly, as his hand reached out and twined with Tsuzuki's.
That got a chuckle out of the blond. "Diplomatic as ever, Kid." But there was no denying the genuine affection in his tone.
Yes, Tatsumi's idea of a bath was starting to sound more and more promising by the minute.
TBC